#he looks like an old time hollywood heartthrob

[themaclean]

We Don't Have To Be Friends (2/2) Characters: Cooper Howard/Lucy MacLean. Summary: 4,244 words, Post Season One -- character study with porn. Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't see in the show. ( Ao3 ) > Part One | Part Two <

If Cooper were an honorable man, he wouldn’t have yanked Lucy’s hair like that.

That thought had buried itself deep into the back of his mind as he wound and unwound the stained rag in his hand. He remained on the marked table in the corner of the hotel room, the evening air musty but quiet. Dogmeat had taken to the bathroom when they’d arrived and Lucy…

His brow twitched as he adjusted his shotgun, his thumbnail dug into the etchings on the side.

Fuckin’ Lucy.

His hand flexed at the thought of her soft hair tight in his grip.

If he were half the man he’d been before the bombs fell, he’d never have done it. Never even thought to do it.

But then she’d slung the word ‘family’ around and started making assumptions about his life. Call it gut instinct or benign cruelty, whatever you like, but he needed her to back off. He didn’t have the words to make her back down, as everything became a debate or a conversation like she needed to know every little thing.

Without words, there aren’t many options left.

He yanked her hair to make his point and shoved her away just as quickly. She hadn’t cried or shouted or done much of anything. She just gawked at him like a child who’d never been scolded, and then she shot off to the bathroom.

Lucy hadn't come out of the bathroom yet.

But then the mental math kicked in, of how the world is how it is now, and it’s hard to care much about honor. It’s that back-and-forth of how he could have done much worse and how he’d gone easy on her, really.

He flexed his fingers around the phantom ache in his palm, that whipcrack decision to push into her space. Worse yet, it wasn’t anger or frustration that spurred him on. It was the underlying hunger that held a light hand against the back of his head, pushing him towards the living.

He thought he might bite into her, to savor her, but he hadn’t.

This time, at least.

During his stint as a Hollywood heartthrob, his friends traipsed with whatever starlet they could get their talons into; Cooper loved Barb. Never strayed, never so much as looked at another woman with intent. He’d been the model husband and kept himself trained on Barb.

All for her, everything for her.

He loved her so much he'd been blind to the shit she'd helped make happen within Vault-Tec. That's its own phantom ache, how being a loving husband rippled out to the end of America as he knew it.

But he isn't in the old world. He isn't even married to Barb; he hadn't been since before the bombs dropped. Divorce, alimony, public humiliation, the loss of his status after Vault-Tec caught on that he’d heard too much.

And yet...

After two hundred years, it’s not living anymore; can’t be. You get numb to the tastes and smells of things and nothing is new anymore. There’s no novelty, no experience you haven’t had. Except in how people die, he supposed. But the day-to-day of life for two hundred years became something else a long while ago.

It's pure instinct, doing whatever you think will best serve you in the moment. Everyone you know dies, and you stop attending funerals or even sticking around long enough to see if they leave flowers for the fallen. Not really any flowers anymore, come to think of it.

With enough time, you can forget most people.

Maybe that was what made the empty thoughts so tempting -- the ones that told him to bite down on Lucy's throat and tear her apart. It wasn't like the zombie shit you see in the movies where it's a switch, where you die and come back with a hunger for brains.

That hunger guided him, even now.

“I wanted to apologize.”

Cooper’s jaw ticked to the side, his head twitched to shake out the instinct to growl. “No.” His gaze flicked up from the shotgun to Lucy’s slim silhouette in the cracked bathroom door. 

“You can’t just say no,” Lucy said with a scoff. “Look, I clearly overstepped and upset you. So, I’m sorry if I was prying or pushy. I won’t bring up — that, again.”

Cooper rested his forearms on the edge of the table. The girl had the survival instincts of a goddamn cat curled up in a wheel well in the middle of winter.

“So, I’m sorry. Do you accept my apology?”

“Y’ain’t ever let a thing lie in your life, have you, girl.”

Lucy gave a tight-lipped smile and a slight shrug as if that were a point of pride. “When you’re in a vault, it’s kind of hard to hold a grudge. You have to see people every day and depend on one another, so you — you have to talk it out.”

Cooper’s gaze rolled to the ceiling as he begged for whatever powers above to give him strength. He let the silence sit between them as he clicked his shotgun back into place and ensured a few rounds were ready to go.

He roughly scratched at his neck before he popped his hat back on. His joints clicked and cracked as he got to his feet, the day’s aches setting in. In a few long strides, he set his shotgun on the bedside table.

In all this time, he refused to look at her, even as she implored him with those wide hazel eyes.

“We’ll take shifts,” he said, flat on his back in one heavy thud. He angled his hat over his face, though he could see the door to the room if he tilted his head just right.

“You can’t go to sleep mad.”

Cooper exhaled into the hollow of his hat. “I ain’t mad.”

“You are.” Before Cooper could do much about it, she’d snatched his hat off his face. She stood beside the bed, his hat held hostage as she stared down at him. “I can tell.”

“Yeah, I’m startin’ to get mad; you’re onto something,” Cooper shoved himself onto his elbows, unhappy with her looming over him. He shifted his weight, and his legs snapped out over the edge of the bed. She didn’t have a chance to adjust, now stuck between his knees.

Lucy held his hat high as if he couldn’t stand up and take it back from her. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to have a hostage situation; I just need to know we’re okay.”

“Why’s it so fuckin’ important to you, that we be friends or — or somethin’?”

“Why’s it important..?” Lucy made a raspy noise from the back of her throat as she tried to hold the hat higher. It was pathetic to watch, in all honesty. As if it were something worth bargaining for. “Because it’s about teamwork and caring about each other. And we have to trust each other.”

“Trusting you to keep watch while I sleep is plenty enough to show I trust you,” Cooper said, his tone flat. He wasn’t sure he should trust her now, given how erratic she was being over something as petty as him accepting her apology.

“What if—“ Lucy rolled her lips between her teeth, something painful going on behind her eyes. “What if you decide you don’t need me around and leave me? Then what do I do?”

Cooper caught her hip in the flat of his palm, and his fingers dug into her cotton-clad flesh.

“It happened before, and — and don’t think I forgot how you wouldn’t give me water, and how you sold me for drugs, and — I know there’s going to be a day when we fight and you decide I’m worth more as a bartering chip than as… As someone that you care about.”

“Give me my hat back, darlin’.”

Lucy strained her arm into the air, her gaze fixed down at him. “Just, promise me you aren’t going to hold a grudge and… And that we’re a team, or co-workers, or something.”

Cooper felt his patience hit critical mass as the hand on her hip shifted her weight to pivot her onto the bed. It wasn’t hard to do, to shift his free hand to her throat as he hovered above her.

“Now, darlin’, I hate to say it, but you are bein’ five kinds of hysterical right now.” His grip on her throat wasn’t hard, with most of his weight on his knees and by her hip. His index finger toyed with the hard column of her throat, gentle enough to not hurt her.

Lucy looked strangely relieved by the shift in position. All the prey fear in her eyes had simmered down to something patient and distant. It was like she’d been waiting for him to snap, to turn back into this facet of the man she knew. All the anticipation fizzled out to a stern word and a hand on her throat.

“All I said was,” Cooper adjusted, a deep breath taken for the sake of softness. “Don’t talk about my family. Simple rule.”

Cooper could tell it took everything in her to stay quiet, given how her muscles twitched beneath his calloused fingertips.

And then things shifted around him like he hadn’t been able to see the parts for what they were. They were alone, for one, in a cheap room in a glorified brothel. It’d been weeks since he’d been in anything close to a real bed, albeit moldy and threadbare. Lucy was pressed against him, their knees notched together, one beside the other.

Cooper couldn’t think when he’d last been in this situation. It might’ve been when he still had hair or a nose. The murky haze of shapeless bodies couldn’t compete with the warm-blooded woman with frantic abandonment issues beneath him.

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it?

Lucy had a damn complex about being abandoned again. Hard to miss a wound that he himself bore. His jaw clicked as he caught the faint smell of soap and sweat on her skin. The cavernous gap where his nose had once been couldn’t pick up much, a small mercy, but it hung in the air between them.

Maybe it was because of a human scent, something about that ghoulish instinct to track down beautiful things and shred them with his teeth.

Lucy didn’t move to push him back, and he didn’t want to move much either. She hadn’t been so quiet since he’d first sent her sprinting to the bathroom out of fear, even though she’d come crawling back with unneeded apologies.

But then he caught it — that redoubled heartbeat as she glared up at him.

Her slim shape beneath him was as fine as any steak. He'd eaten some foul corpses and torn apart bodies to survive. He'd eaten fallen friends and pets. And the longer this went on, the easier it was to commit such acts.

But this hunger wasn't so simple.

"Cooper?" Lucy exhaled, the fine shape of her sternum taut with pale skin and bone.

Cooper trailed his fingers along the bone, dismally aware of how much force it'd taken to pry open her ribs and fish out her organs. Red and gushing and filling — but not worth it. It wasn’t worth it. Cooper’s head twitched to the side as he bit down, that malicious ache for carnage twisted up with the need to bury his cock in her.

“You wanna be something, huh?” His breathing rasped like sandpaper as his fingers slid beneath the faded white button-down.

Lucy gave him a puzzled look but nodded all the same.

His palm lay flat against his tit, in search of her heartbeat. He didn't think about how his scarred skin grazed her nipple or how her rib cage twitched in response. Force of habit drew his thumb back, toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves as a half-smirk kicked the corner of his lips up.

Lucy wouldn't even look at him. Her lips were pursed tight together as she strained her head to the side like she didn't know if she should scream or moan.

It's an unfair trade, as are most in the wasteland if you’re smart.

He's rotten and falling to pieces while she's fresh from a vault. The difference in radiation alone should be enough to make him back off, but he doesn’t care much. And neither does she from how she arched into his hand, despite how angry she looked.

"Sweet thing, your heart's going a mile a minute."

Lucy widened her eyes at him, and her head snapped towards him. “You’re touching me, of course it is.”

"Barely touched you," Cooper said, not sure be cared if it was fear or arousal.

“Sex doesn’t involve this much talking normally.”

“Normally, as per the one time you fucked your husband,” Cooper said as he continued to thumb the soft flesh of her breast. She keened into each movement, not shy or unsure as he’d feared she might be.

“You just like the sound of your own voice,” Lucy said under her breath, her eyes fluttered shut. 

Cooper had to laugh, even though he didn’t much want to. If he’d known how easy it’d be to bridge the gap between traveling companions and this, he might’ve tried something sooner.

“You’re reactive,” he said with a tweak of her nipple.

“That’s so weird and gross,” Lucy stumbled over words, her voice too thin to mean what she was saying.

"You're the one who wants to fuck a monster."

"You aren't a monster."

Cooper smirked, unable to help it. "That's the part you wanna argue?" He had her on his back and at his mercy, but she still wanted to argue for his humanity.

Lucy stayed silent, glaring up at him.

Cooper grabbed her by the hip and, in one firm tug, had her cunt flush against the hard shape of his cock through his jeans. His hand snaked from her hip to the soft spot behind her knee, pushing her leg back to angle her to his liking.

"Can we..." Lucy exhaled, her question lost as his hips canted against her.

“Can we what?” Cooper pressed harder against her, his arm twisted around her thigh so he could crack open his belt. He didn’t bother beyond unfastening it, and his jeans peeled aside enough to free himself. He couldn’t hide the hiss of satisfaction as the sensitive head of his cock met the soft fabric and heat between her legs.

“Can ghouls and…” Lucy’s words continued to stick to the roof of her mouth, her eyes trailing over him in the shadows. It was better this way, in the dark, where she couldn’t make out the rough skin and frayed edges where the radiation had hardened and rotted him.

Again, his end of the bargain was far sweeter than hers. He wasn’t sweating it, of how she might recoil and pale at the sight of his mangled flesh. It wasn’t the same as when he’d been human, but the instinct to resist her certainly faded easier.

Cooper couldn't even recall a time he'd jerked himself off. The drive to bury himself in something warm and soft had faded long ago. 

It was nice to be in a room with a lock, alone, not surrounded by sand and open air. Dogmeat was asleep in the disused bathtub, with a bunch of blankets Lucy had thrown in there for her.

Nothing to interrupt, the kid down the hall -- 

No.

Like lightning, deja vu grabbed him by the throat. His face twitched as he put his mind right. There was no kid, and this wasn't his wife. It was the uppity brat from a vault, the product of every fucked part of the old world.

“Like, are we allowed to fuck?” Cooper asked, incredulous.

“No — I mean, I… For the future of humanity,” Lucy stumbled over her words. “If I got pregnant — ”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” Cooper said in a flat voice. If she was worried about some fucked up little irradiated babies, so far as Cooper knew, it wasn’t possible. 

“Oh, well, okey-dokey.”

“Okey… Jesus,” Cooper snorted.

Cooper caught the sides of her pajama pants and yanked them out of place in one firm tug. He caught her calves and set her legs over one shoulder, a hand on her ankle while the other settled on the bed beside her. From the look on her face, she was curious to see how this worked — whatever they’d been taught in the vault mustn’t go further than missionary.

In an act of pity or chivalry, he slid back, his eyes narrowed up at her. Some fucking gentleman he had to be to give a fuck, even now when she had no idea what she was after. Not really, not beyond the act of repopulating the Wastes. He hitched her thighs over his shoulders, tongue and radiation-thinned lips flush against her wet cunt.

So much wetter than she should be, given they’d done little more than grind for a few moments. He rattled out a growl from low in his throat, unable to really taste her but wishing that he could. Scent and taste were long-dead, but he’d catch moments of it, faintly, and he was buried between her folds now.

His fingers slid along where his tongue teased, and his gaze fixed up at her. She couldn’t stay still, writhing and desperate, and her pajama shirt pried free now. The slight swell of her breasts and the sharp jut of her jawline were all he could make out as he did his best to get revenge on the fucks in room five who couldn’t stop screaming.

Cooper dipped back, tonguing his lips as she twitched and tensed. “Can feel you holding back.”

“It’s — I can’t, it’s too much.”

His hand stilled. “Should I — ”

“No,” Lucy caught his head, her fingers skating over his leathery scalp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Then you stop holding back,” he said, his fingers curled inside her. “Make a mess of it, ain’t our fuckin’ bed.”

Lucy looked horrified, but Cooper didn’t stop. He kept the same pace, his fingers thudding against that spot that made her tense and shove at him. If he pulled back, she’d drag him close again. His name fumbled past her lips here and there, like she was mad at him, and he just worked her harder.

And then her thighs snapped and near cracked his damn head off, her back arched against the bed, and a desperately wet patch formed beneath his chin between them. He couldn’t hide the shit-eating smirk as he rested his cheek against her thigh, a rumbling noise of satisfaction that some things couldn’t leave you.

Cooper didn’t leave her a chance to recover, owing to the heavy throb at every little noise she made. His cock damn near hurt, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Well.

It took a moment, but he had her thighs settled around his hips as he kept it simple for her sake. It stopped being about sex or need and became something even more abstract, that hot ache for warmth and to be inside her. She whimpered with that dazed, empty-faced bliss as he caught her behind the knees. His ruined, rough hands had no place near her pristine vault-grown flesh.

And yet he had his ex-wife to thank — much obliged Barb, you fuckin’ snake. It’s a lashing thought he bit back, that constant push between loving the woman and hating what she’d done. But this was simpler, a pretty young thing slick and waiting for whatever he sought to do with her.

All the times he could have done this shit back when the world was whole. But he never would have. Not back then.

Now…

That lead-weight heat in his stomach spurred him on; a few shallows thrusts were all he could manage before he buried himself inside her. It was such a bone-deep satisfaction he couldn't recall why it'd been so long.

But then he was face to face with her, that pretty, doe-eyed shock as she played catch up with him. He caught her cheeks between his finger and thumb, pushing her head back and pouting her lips.

"This what that vault of yours taught you? Lay back and think of America?"

“It was — our duty…” 

“To get fucked?” Cooper couldn’t help but laugh, each long, slow thrust, another scratch to an impossible itch. “Bet your daddy will be real proud when he finds out you fucked a ghoul.”

Lucy mumbled in protest, her fingers digging into his forearm’s patchy flesh. She kept pace with his thrusts, the bruising bite of his fingers on her hips. His other hand remained on her face to keep her looking at him as he bore down.

Their room quickly became guttural noises, his exertion an undercurrent to her yelps and pleading noises. She clawed at his hand, the one that was keeping her honest and facing him. She didn't get to look away and pretend this was some other man fucking her.

Lucy fought against his grip, stuck between glaring and panting. The orgasm she’d squirmed through before and broken to had her dazed and gentle like she was on cloud nine. But the slow increase of pace and pressure had her writhing again like when he’d had his tongue and fingers deep inside her.

Cooper slid his hand lower, his grip fastened to her throat. He gave a few shallow thrusts before he set into a steady rhythm, focused on how damn good he felt. The tighter he pinched the sides of her neck, the tighter she got. That slick flutter of her cunt out of fear and adrenaline, of whether he'd let the blood go back to her head or not...

He really could do any number of terrible things to her, and no one would know. But she came to this seedy hotel room and lazed around and trusted him like the fucking moron she is. And he clung to what thin shred of honor he had to not hurt her beyond what she might enjoy.

It isn’t some big, beautiful moment where they rode out a climax together — it’s far messier, the juts of his hips all the warning he got as he cracked his hips closer to hers. And then there was that tug low in his stomach, the jitters in his pelvis so desperate he couldn’t catch it.

Cooper tucked his head against her neck, his teeth buried into her shoulder as he came. His fingers dug deep into the mattress, a heinous growl between gnashing teeth. They’d stopped the banter long ago, probably due to his comment about her dad — he didn’t care much. He appreciated the silence.

But she was breathing, long and soft, and his teeth were still buried in her shoulder. He couldn’t breathe as easily, a rasping, rolling sound from low in his throat. He swallowed a few times and coughed out of habit.

“You need your meds,” Lucy said, her voice drifting and gentle.

For a moment, he wanted to let go all the way. But he left it at the deep bruise on her shoulder, that crescent of teeth swelling from the pressure. He thumbed the mark and drew back, dressed enough that he was able to tuck himself away in a moment, ready to run or fight if needed.

Lucy…

Cooper coughed into the crushed shape of his fist, her body marked with his grip on her hip, her leg, and her throat. He didn’t feel anything at that, no pride, no guilt. He couldn’t even muster that satisfaction of seeing a naked woman.

Lucy’s hand dipped between her thighs, her fingers tested against herself. He’d come inside her and hadn’t really thought to pull out or ask. Another cough caught him off-guard; his mind shifted to the RadAway in his pack.

“It’s a shame,” Lucy said, a distance in her gaze. “That you couldn’t get me pregnant, even if you wanted to. I feel like you’d be a good dad.”

Cooper had no idea what to say to that.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Lucy said as she moved to get dressed. She didn’t meet his eye but didn’t seem angry.

Cooper strode over to her, his hand on her cheek and his thumb on her bottom lip. He met her eye for a long moment. He bent down to place a kiss as gently as he could manage on her forehead, the cavity of his nose bumping against the top of her head.

Lucy bounced up to peck him on the lips, so chaste you wouldn’t believe he’d just fucked her into the mattress. She smiled that same empty-eyed Hollywood smile. She touched his cheek, her thumb brushed against the hollow of his cheek and over his hairless brow.

“You aren’t mad at me anymore, right?”

“No,” Cooper said, unwilling to get back into it.

“Good.”

There isn’t any room to cuddle, not that he’d want to. Not that she would want to, either. He can’t quite make out what happened between them. But it seemed like it’d put Lucy’s mind at ease, that he wouldn’t turn on his heel and leave. Maybe this was the ‘something’ she needed from him.

Just something that they shared, something deeper than a shared destination.

Just, something.

#vaultghoul #cooper howard #cooper x lucy #my writing #lucy maclean

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer from GQ Hype

Filled with cozy, Hemingwayesque signifiers of midcentury masculinity (think: taxidermy and artfully-tattered boxing gloves), the restaurant seemed perfect for a breezy, late-autumn hang in the West Village.

But there’s one problem: Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey have burgers on their minds. And while this place boasts a surplus of dead animals nailed to the wall, it somehow only serves snacks and salads in the afternoon. And as Bomer points out, Corner Bistro—a pub that, in his opinion, serves some of the best burgers in town—is just a six-minute walk away.

The British-born Bailey—who, in his black sweater, floppy beanie and overstuffed backpack, looks more like a backpacker who just rolled out of his hostel rather than one of the streaming era’s top heartthrobs—waxes rhapsodic about In-N-Out, the California burger institution, which he recently tried for the first time.

He asks the suave, Old Hollywood-handsome Bomer, who spends most of his time in L.A. with his husband and three teenage sons, where In-N-Out falls on his personal burger index. “Our boys are really good judges of burgers,” Bomer says, and for them, In-N-Out is up there—but so is the burger at Corner Bistro. And how can we send Bailey—the Viscount of Bridgerton himself—back to London without tasting New York’s best?

Our location, midway between Stonewall Inn and Julius, two of New York’s most historic gay bars, is apt. The project we’re here to talk about—the epic new Showtime series Fellow Travelers, in which the pair star—tips its hat to the legendary 1969 riots that happened in Stonewall, but goes even further, telling the story of gay liberation in the second half of the twentieth century.

Part epic love story, part political thriller, Fellow Travelers begins in 1950s Washington, D.C., with an illicit affair between the strapping Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Bomer), a State Department official savvy to the ways of power, and the earnest, energetic Timothy “Tim” Laughlin (Bailey), the kind of wide-eyed idealist who goes to D.C. wanting to change the world. When they first meet, Tim is a conservative Catholic boy; his passionate, intensely erotic affair with Hawk both liberates him and throws him off his path.

Through the decades-spanning run of their relationship, the series takes us from the Lavender Scare of the 1950s—when a McCarthy-era policy that institutionalized homophobia expelled many “sexual deviants” from government, resulting at one point in a suicide a day—to the AIDS crisis of the 1980s.

The series is based on the Thomas Mallon novel of the same name. But where Mallon’s book generally focuses on the 1950s and the explosive romance between Hawk and Tim, the series expands the Fellow Travelers universe to reach through the decades and cover the Vietnam War protests of the '60s and the White Night riots of 1979.

“It's been taught that LGBTQIA+ history begins at Stonewall,” says Jelani Alladin, the actor who plays queer Black journalist Marcus Hooks in the series. “It’s a kind of false narrative. Queer people have been around taking a stand for themselves since the beginning of time.”

It feels like a disservice to call a series so sexy and so compelling as educational. But Fellow Travelers does serve as an important history lesson for younger generations who may not fully understand the battles fought before their time. “It was a really dark period in American history that obviously we're not taught in school,” says executive producer Robbie Rogers, who prior to his work in film and TV was the soccer player who became the first openly gay man to compete in a North American professional sports league. “We're not taught LGBT history.”

When the first episode of the series came out in late October, a viral clip showcasing Bailey and Bomer in a particularly kinky sex scene had Gay Twitter shuddering with excitement. In the scene, Bailey’s Tim uses his power as a sub to persuade Bomer’s Hawk to take him to an important D.C. party. “I’m your boy, right?” he tells Hawk. “Your boy wants to go to the party.” In surely one of this year’s hottest scenes on film or TV, we see Bailey hungrily suck on Bomer’s toes and gamely attempt to put his foot in his mouth. Earlier in the series, Hawk gives Tim the name “Skippy” after thoroughly dominating him in bed, a gesture of affection as much as of ownership.

Sex is a powerful, world-shifting force in Fellow Travelers, but it’s also a Trojan horse. While the early episodes bristle with erotic energy, every exchange between Bomer and Bailey is about power as much as it is about sex. And the further you go into Travelers, the more you realize what’s really at stake when these two hit the sack.

“Even in the ‘50s, they had joy,” Travelers creator and writer Ron Nyswaner, the Oscar-nominated screenwriter of Philadelphia, says. “You might be struggling, but that doesn't mean every moment of your life you're a victim of oppression. Behind closed doors they had a life—it's just that at any moment, the police could come through those doors and ruin that life.”

That unapologetic approach to queer desire is still pretty revolutionary in a big-budget prestige series on a major network. Gone are the days when gay characters were allowed to exist onscreen as long as they adhered to respectability politics. In Fellow Travelers, the queer characters are allowed passionate, unapologetically freaky pleasures.

“There's no shame attached to that,” Bailey says. “And I do think Matt's character detonates something in Tim. It's a gift to meet someone [who does the] radical act of helping you feel less shame and understand that intimacy that can be explored in so many different ways.”

Religion is a big theme in Fellow Travelers. Hawk is bound by covenant to his wife; Tim struggles with Catholic guilt. And like many queer people, Bomer and Bailey themselves have both had to negotiate religion within their queer identities.

“It took me a long time to dismantle it and to question what I was being told,” Bailey says. “Religion is interesting because it’s the voice of the shame but also [a source of] relief. There was this person that I could speak to—and I definitely did have that full conversation with a higher power. But the contradiction is brutal. To really lean into that as a gay kid who's not born into a gay family, you see both sides of what religion can provide, which is scathing judgment—as I felt it looking back—but also a real space for catharsis and nourishment.”

Bomer says he has an individualized approach to religion: “It's something that I've found for myself over years and years of exploration. It's just highly personal that way.” Bomer is proud to have raised his kids in a truly intersectional environment. “They go to an Episcopal school, but they're in school with Muslim kids, with Jewish kids,” he says. “We gave them that experience and then let them find their own way from there.”

On the way to Corner Bistro, Bomer gives Bailey a capsule tour of gay West Village. “That’s an iconic lesbian bar,” he says, pointing out Cubbyhole on West 12th street. Later, he asks if we’ve ever been to Fire Island. “You can have any experience you want there,” Bomer tells me, when I confess my anxiety around Speedos. “It's not just one thing.”

These streets bring up certain memories for Bomer. He tells us about coming up as an actor in New York in the early 2000s, at one point living in “a renovated crackhouse in Brooklyn.” Later, he worked two jobs to afford a one-bedroom apartment he split with a fellow aspiring actor—none other than Lee Pace, the famous, and famously tall (6′ 5″, if you don’t know), actor and Internet Boyfriend who Bomer has known since high school. “I’ll tell you how long I've known Lee Pace,” he says. “I’ve known him since he was shorter than me, when he was 14 and I was 15.”

As gay men are wont to do, trust that the group veered off-topic to talk about vocally-prodigious divas. Bomer has just seen the Broadway production of David Byrne’s Here Lies Love, which tells the story of the rise and fall of Imelda Marcos, the wife of the Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. And when he finds out that I grew up in the Philippines, he tells me how much he loves Lea Salonga, the Tony-winning Filipino Broadway star who appears in the production.

We ask Bailey if he’s familiar with her. “Do I know Lea Salonga?” he asks. “She was Fantine!” he retorts, referring to her role in Les Misérables in Concert: The 25th Anniversary.

From there, we fall into a Filipino diva rabbit hole, talking about former Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger (currently appearing in a well-received West End production of Sunset Boulevard that Bomer tells Bailey they must catch together), Mutya Buena of the Sugababes (an iconic U.K. girl group that Bailey and I separately saw live recently), and Darren Criss (who Bomer directed on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story—technically a straight male, but one who earns diva status for his formidable vocals and the dance he did in a red speedo on Versace).

As we near the pub, a thirty-something woman walking hand in hand with her man does a hilariously convincing impression of the Distracted Boyfriend meme at the sight of Neal Caffrey and Anthony Bridgerton casually strolling through West 4th Street.

“Her neck!” Bailey says, audibly concerned.

In Corner Bistro, with sandwiches and coffees in hand (Bailey decides on a classic burger and a grilled chicken sandwich), we settle down in a cozy booth and talk about the points in their careers where Fellow Travelers found the actors, the hard-won representation Hollywood’s queer community has been fighting for for decades, and the LGBTQ+ talents of color they’d like to support on their own projects.

Bomer, of course, has been famous since the early 2010s, when he became a star on the series White Collar, and along with Neil Patrick Harris, proved that openly gay actors could become leading men. Since then, he’s conquered Broadway (The Boys in the Band), won a slew of awards (Golden Globe and Critic's Choice trophies for The Normal Heart) and become a producer and director.

In the past, Bomer has discussed the way doors closed on him even as he was being celebrated for being an out gay actor. When asked about that now, he says, “I choose just to never look back in anger about anything. Ultimately, my career is a lot richer because I decided to be open with who I am.”

“It’s a wave of progress that Matt's been surfing and is at the front of,” says Bailey. “And it's been a real honor to be able to get on my boogie board next to him.”

Before he became a global star mid-pandemic playing the grumpy, furry-chested Anthony Bridgerton on the Netflix juggernaut Bridgerton, Bailey was an award-winning actor in both the West End and British television. Huge fame didn’t find Bailey until his early 30s, so when it did, he had a clear idea of what he wanted to accomplish with his platform.

“I feel the responsibility immeasurably,” Bailey says. “I get it when people are saying you create a chair and bring people [to the table].” He talks about the connection between the civil rights movement and the queer liberation. “The Black queens are the ones who really started to fight,” he says. “It's amazing to feel politically activated. And if there's any project to do that, it's going to be Fellow Travelers. It will change the way I see myself in and the world I live in.”

The intersectionality makes the story Travelers is trying to tell even richer—most of all in Alladin’s scene-stealing portrayal of the conflicted Marcus Hooks, a pioneering Black journalist who pushes against segregation as he grapples with his own sexuality. “When I look at older men today, I'm like, You guys have endured so much,” Aladdin says. “From the Second World War all the way through to the AIDS crisis, it was nonstop life crisis after life crisis. To have been able to survive through all that, there needs to be a real, solid weight on the feet of [these characters].”

Part of the pleasure of watching Fellow Travelers is picking up on the cinematic references hidden in each scene. Hawk and Tim’s first interactions evoke the forbidden affair in David Lean’s 1945 classic Brief Encounter. When Hawk’s family settles in suburbia, the show evokes the Technicolor repression of the great Douglas Sirk melodramas. When Hawk and Tim run through the beaches of Fire Island in the ‘70s, that iconic image of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing on the beach in From Here to Eternity may flicker in your mind. And in some ways, the series plays like a gayer, hornier The Way We Were—an epic love story tossed on the tides of political change. (In this version, of course, the Barbra Streisand character is an eager foot-licking sub and Redford’s Hubbell Gardiner is a daddy with a pit fetish.) Fellow Travelers allows us to imagine an alternate timeline where queer love has always gotten as much screen time as cinema’s great heterosexual romances, giving other kinds of stories the chance at celluloid immortality too.

In the book, Hawk is described as being more handsome than Gregory Peck. But seeing Bomer in period-appropriate clothing, the Old Hollywood leading man I thought of was Montgomery Clift, the talented and ultimately tragic gay actor who starred in classics like Red River and A Place in the Sun. For a time in the mid 2010s, Bomer was attached to star in a Montgomery Clift biopic for HBO, to be directed by the great gay director Ira Sachs. “Ira is a genius,” Bomer says. “[But] I think that ship may have sailed.”

Still, when I press him about doing it in the future, he lights up. “You know, I’m [now] the same age Monty was when he passed away,” Bomer says. “I always thought it'd be really interesting to do a play about the last night of his life, when he's watching one of his old movies on TV. And he had this man who lived with him and took care of him for the last chapter of his life.There's an interesting play in there somewhere…. Maybe Liz Taylor swings by.”

What’s changed since the mid 2010s is that a lot of Hollywood’s current gatekeepers are queer people who were fighting from the bottom a decade ago. “It's the people, the gatekeepers who are now going, ‘We are going to make this [queer] story,’” Bailey says. “This narrative that gay people have to be closeted in order [for a project] to be commercial and in order for things to be interesting to people—it's been dismantled. But it's slow because it's not just straight people who think that—I think everyone believed that in the system of Hollywood.”

Nyswaner, who has been working in Hollywood since the early ‘80s, has seen that shift up close. “When I grew up in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, I never heard the word ‘homosexual’ spoken aloud,” he says. “There was no conversation that I ever had with anybody about homosexuality. It was not just bad, it was the unspeakable thing—that's how terrified people were of us.”

And while he agrees that, in some ways, it feels like the LGBTQ+ community is once again losing ground on some rights, Nyswaner refuses to accept that there hasn’t been change. “Sometimes I hear people say, ‘Well, we haven't gotten anywhere.’ And I'm here to say, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’ Because actually you can turn on the television and find gay characters.”

Fellow Travelers is the culmination of a dream for a number of the men involved in the series.

“When I met Ron, he was talking about how he thinks about this as his lifelong legacy project,” Bailey says. “And I just said to him, ‘Whoever ends up going on this journey with you, I think it'll be the same [for them] probably.’”

“In some ways, Fellow Travelers is a span of my life,” Ron Nyswaner says. “I was an infant in the McCarthy era. And then I came out of the closet in 1978 and just danced and did cocaine and had multiple sexual partners—we didn't know what was coming, which was the AIDS crisis.” Nyswaner was nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Oscar in 1993 for Philadelphia, the landmark drama about an AIDS patient who sues his employers for AIDS discrimination. In a way, the historical span of Fellow Travelers gives the battles fought in Philadelphia their context.

Rogers remembers being a closeted soccer player in the late 2000s, watching Tom Ford’s A Single Man and hoping one day to be able to find love and take control of his own narrative. And Bailey recalls, post-Bridgerton, realizing that he could suddenly write his own destiny and vowing to seek out “a sweeping gay love story.”

Bomer, meanwhile, says—laughing, but seemingly dead serious—that it’s his goal to play a queer character from every decade of the 20th century. “A queer Decalogue,” he says, referencing the Krzysztof Kieślowski classic.

Bomer’s next project might just help him do that. He’s currently producing a Steven Soderbergh film on Lawrence v. Texas, the case that overturned the sodomy laws in Texas in 2003 but started in the 90s.

There are many more stories to tell. And as our interview winds down, Bomer and Bailey start spitballing dream projects.

We talk about All of Us Strangers director Andrew Haigh, who’s revered for his portraits of gay intimacy. “Andrew Haigh has been a special filmmaker for years,” Bailey says. “I think [his film] Weekend informed actually how I approached the sex scenes in [Fellow Travelers].”

“I’d love to play Jessica Fletcher's queer grandson who moves back to Cabot Cove,” Bomer says, referencing Angela Lansbury’s iconic role in Murder, She Wrote. “He's inherited her house and he finds an old journal in her library, and it's a case she never saw and he takes up her mantle.”

And moments before the restaurant speakers suddenly start blaring George Michael’s “Freedom ’90,” Bailey comes in with a killer pitch: “I’m obsessed with the Sacred Band of Thebes, an army of 300 gay lovers in [ancient] Greece. They partnered in pairs, this gay army, and they overthrew a Spartan army… I want to do that as a comedy.”

“Oh hell yes!” Bomer says.

“Just get all the queer actors together,” Bailey says, laughing.

“Lee Pace, everyone,” Bomer says.

“Where would we film it?” Bailey asks.

“Mykonos?” Bomer suggests.

“Flaming Saddles, down the road,” Bailey counters with a chuckle, referring to a gay bar in midtown.

“Oil us up and let’s go!” Bomer says.

Source

#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #jelani alladin #ron nyswaner #interviews #interviews:2023 #GQ hype interview 2023 #NEW!

[gr63wdc]

Headcanon one:

gewis for actors in a romcom :) thank youuuu

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons a short ficlet about it slightly inspired by the 'anyone but you' (2023) rumors. also i don't love how i ended this; maybe i'll build it out more. 🤔

everyone knew he admired lewis, hollywood’s most successful heartthrob. lewis was talented, attractive, funny, kind, and intelligent; what more can a person want? it shouldn’t be suprising, then, that george also had a massive crush on him.

he would like to think he was a pretty good actor, in spite of how few gigs he’s been able to land. there had been a few television episodes and a small film here and there, but it hadn’t been until this film, with lewis, that he felt like he made it.

this film was lewis’s baby. he was producing, he was starring in it, and he was directing it. every choice and every decision went through lewis. and lewis had wanted george to be his love interest, in this huge hollywood rom-com. that was the crazy part.

the first time george met lewis in person wasn’t until the table read. and anytime lewis looked at him or laughed, george melted into a puddle of infatuation and adoration. it only got worse once they started filming; thankfully, an eight-year-old george had taught himself to push down his blush.

the more george got to know lewis, the larger his crush got. the more lewis talked to him and spent time with him, the closer and closer this crush got to unrequited love. george knew, at the end of all this, when filming was finished and they were done with the publicity cycle, he was going to be heartbroken.

“hey, man,” lewis said. they had just finished filming for the day, the sun long past the horizon. “i know it’s late, but did you want to get a bite to eat?”

george was quick to agree, and they ended up at some over-the-top gastropub, the type that would pretend he and lewis were unnoticed. the drinks were fine, the food less so, but george didn’t think he had ever smiled or laughed this much. and lewis glowed, golden even in the shitty industrial lighting.

george was saying something, he doesn’t really remember what, when he noticed lewis just staring at him.

“what?” he asked. “do i have something on my face?”

lewis huffed, reached across the table, and gently cupped george’s face in his hand. and then he kissed him.

“oh,” george said. he felt his face heat up, bright red and burning; no amount of practice could hide this blush.

“yeah, oh,” lewis said. he leaned back in his chair, but moved his hand to rest over george’s on the table. george felt a bit unmoored, but the weight of lewis’s hand on his kept him from floating away. maybe, after all, george wouldn’t end up heartbroken.

#ask games #gio.asks #gio.fic #autumn816 #san💖 #gewis #britcedes #rpf #f1 rpf

[firewalkzwit]

in the mood for love // neil lewis x reader

To accept that life is not David Lynch's magnificent "Blue Velvet", or much less Billy Wilder's "Double Indemnity", was not an easy thing for a man like Neil Lewis, who adored nothing more than to vicariously live through the screen time of the 50's Hollywood heartthrobs that starred as his favourite characters.

So, in the event that a Rohmerian woman whose quirk could even be seen through her yellow lens Godard-ish sunglasses, Neil found it to be an offer he couldn't refuse.

Word count: 2.8k

Cross-posted on AO3

A.N: i actually never finished watching the detectives bc i was honestly not a fan of the plot so bare with me lol, i was only too in love w cill and lucy liu's characters but the movie itself kinda disappointed me

also, yes i made them fans of MY favorite movies, arrest me.

The sound of intense tapping of nails on the counter, crowded by a disastrous attempt at organising countless VHS tapes scattered all over it, caused the plastic of the films to rattle as the table vibrated. Neil's tired eyes rolled upwards to catch a glimpse of the face before him, a slight frown drawn between her eyebrows and an intensely inquisitive stare which hardly helped him to decipher what exactly she wanted that actually merited bothering him.

The harsh placement of the VHS on his desk caused him to grit his teeth, it felt almost imperative, and it ached him to see his most prized possessions be mistreated. His eyes drifted back up to her, the yellow-tinted lens of her sunglasses still didn't stop him from finding them oddly familiar. Scanning to the rest of her clothes as if he wanted to glimpse her personality based on her looks, he felt like a detective. The black minidress on her body was rather loose, and the sleeves ended close to the start of her wrists, as if it was too short for her arms. It seemed like an intentional fashion choice, despite how unflattering it looked to him. The dress hugged her waist in the centre, with a peculiar silver belt he'd only see in the outfit of a woman in a nouvelle vague film. In fact, her entire style seemed to be the one of a sixties Parisian flâneur, as if she was ruthlessly trying to imitate Anna Karina. Over the turtleneck that culminated her dress, a thin, long golden chain that went as low as her belt had a large and round golden pendant hanging from it.

But as soon as she spoke he was disappointed to find no thick, sexy french accent, but rather an ordinary speech, almost too friendly and passive to be attractive. His eyes drifted down to the VHS on his desk; while he expected Vivre Sa Vie, le Bonheur or Pierrot le Fou, there was no La Collectionneuse on his desk, but rather the most unexpected of outcomes.

Jane Birkin would never rent a chick-flick, Neil thought.

The membership she handed did not belong to her, it was that of a man's, an old one too, judging by his name.

"Alright, that will be eight dollars."

"Jeez, eight?"

"Eight."

"You do know the other rental charges only five, right?"

"I was not aware, thank you." Not only was she of poor taste, but also quite irritating. Even though he refrained from explaining how being a smaller business practically obliged him to charge more to make an actual profit, it was before he could begin to explain the late fees that she snatched the VHS from his hand.

"I'm actually going to keep looking." And just like that, she turned and began to walk slightly bent over, looking at the orange labels that hung on the shelves. Curiosity consumed him, and he also felt it his duty as the owner of the videoclub to assist his customers in making a choice.

"Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Well... What do you have with Robert De Niro?" Neil's eyes suddenly lit up, as if her personality had a chance at salvation the moment those words came out of her mouth.

"Most of his works, there's his classics like Goodfellas, Taxi Driver... I even have Heat if you're looking for something more thrilling."

"Heat?"

"Heat is one of the most critically acclaimed nineties crime dramas. It also stars Al Pacino, it's this kinda' cop and criminal trope but so realistically achieved, even the sound of firearms is claimed to be one of the most realistic in the history of film-"

"I'll just take that one." The tip of her finger slowly grazed his as she gently took the Heat VHS from his hands, a friendly awkward grin displaying discomfort. "It's just for my dad."

"Oh... Sixteen Candles' for you I guess." A soft nasal laugh left her body as her head tilted down, shaking in denial.

"No, that's for my dad too." Ok, weird, but by then she had undeniably picked his curiosity.

"Nothing for you then?"

"I prefer a cheaper rental, this is my dad's membership." As if he couldn't see for himself that such a name would never belong to her, it could only be that of an old geezer who he still struggled to recognise even though he was a member. And even though she intended to make a subtle comment, it did not come off that way.

"Oh yeah? And what do you rent in the cheaper club?" Media Giant could have a wider offer and lower prices, but Neil assumed it wasn't a real loss if the clientele consisted of girls like her.

"I like French movies, Harmony Korine, seventies giallos... Why, you want me to rent them from you instead?" While her first pick was particularly predictable, Italian giallos were a genre he was interested in exploring, and of which he hardly had any in his extensive collection. Neil shrugged almost dramatically, trying to incite her to take yet another pick.

"It wouldn't hurt your dad. Except for the giallo part, ‘can't help you there."

"You mean you have no giallos here?" His face deformed into an awkward pout, as if he'd been defeated in his own ground. "You look like the type of guy to own them on Criterion."

"I don't think so, no." By that point, the humiliation of her light cackle upsetted and confused him even further, returning her change as she piled up the tapes.

"If you ever want to watch a good Dario Argento movie, you let me know when I return you these." And marking her goodbye with a soft grin that slightly lifted the sunglasses that rested above her cheeks, Neil was taken aback beyond speech. Was it a date? Was she joking? He couldn't quite understand, and so couldn't come up with a proper response.

But seven days passed before she returned, and he would have to charge her the late fees that added to the sixteen dollars. However, in the course of those five days Neil hardly remembered her, briefly making a comment about it to his friends. Neil was not the type of man to stress easily, and he was exercising his peace that particular afternoon as he watched the director's cut of Psycho, to him a movie that truly never got old. He snacked on the couch in a slobby posture, his limbs spread over it without a care about presentation. It was not the type of day for him to expect too many customers, and it was too hot to go outside anyway. Hardly did he ever struggle to find an excuse to stay in anyway, so when he heard the doorknob pushed down his expression shifted into a displeased grimace. His eyes peered over the backrest, displeased to find that someone had indeed come in.

As he got up and stretched, mindfully appearing to be homeless, he caught a glimpse of her again. Her head was tilted and on her hands were the two tapes she had borrowed. He was surprised to have even forgotten that he'd rented her the films, usually being more attentive about what went in and out of his club. Probably the bizarre interaction had caused him to forget. That time she wore a tiny pair of black shorts with black stockings up the knees and also black, sharp-pointed flats. The usual thick, high-waisted belt accompanied a loose sage blouse, which was accessorised with elongated collars of various unique beads, and the peculiar yellow-tinted shades. Not that Neil cared at all about fashion, nor did he understand it, but he assumed she was going for chic.

"Sorry for not coming by sooner, hope you didn't miss these." She placed the tapes on the counter and quickly began looking through her pockets for the money she assumed she'd have to pay for being two days late. Before he could tell her how much extra she owed, she placed the four dollars on top of the movies.

"How'd you know how much..." Neil's finger drew a circle above the tapes and the money, as if she was some sort of genie or simply gambling with how much he'd charge compared to his prime competitor.

"My dad." She quickly interrupted, offering him her usual small grin of politeness before making her way out. Yet by that point Neil wasn't oblivious to her previous invitation, overwhelmed by the curiosity her strange looks provoked him.

"Is... the offer for that Dario Argento still up?" He could tell she was smiling through the way her cheeks lifted, visible from behind, and the way her voice sounded. When people smile and talk, their voice accommodates to the wider lips and sound friendlier.

"Glad you asked."

It was by that point that the old-Hollywood mystery enthusiast Neil and the French new-wave, foreign murder-thriller enjoyer Y/N frequented each other in what consisted of visits to the Gumshoe Video and her place. In contrast to his original impression of her, she was quite the film collector, owning a perfect shrine that ranged from art house Kino Lorber films to a wide range of classics on Criterion. She was truly well stocked. The only thing obvious to him from the start was that she was a great enthusiast of foreign films, something she even gave away in the unique way she dressed.

She was also an occasional actress, kindly starring in the indie projects of some of her film geek friends, many who shockingly knew Neil as well. It was natural for them to have so many people in common, especially because people with mutual interests were bound to come across each other in such a small town, however he was surprised to not have seen her previously roaming around or in any of his friends' films. She had a look that just gave away she'd be into acting, the role of a muse seemed to fit her character perfectly.

Because of this, as soon as Neil began to grow an interest in impressing her, she was surprised to hear he wanted to try and film an experimental short, try his luck at producing something beyond an advertising trailer for his videoclub, something more artistic.

Obviously he invited her to star in it, and even though he'd expected her to jump in his arms in excitement, never did she show herself to be shocked or taken aback by any of the bizarre propositions he had in mind. Neil wasn't very knowledgeable or even interested in the world that existed beneath experimental indie films, but she seemed to be willing to comply with the various shots of strange ideas he sketched frantically in strangely-drawn frames.

When it was finally time to shoot, it was clear that the whole tape would be very rudimentary, using the 35mm film gauge she had offered to lend him, demanding that he treat her camera with extreme care.

Despite Neil's attempts of disclosing what exactly he had in mind, rough sketches were clearly not enough, as the minute they began to shoot and the scenes began to come to life, it became too clear to her that Neil just wanted to see her naked, behaving like a conceited filmographer in poor attempts of masking his amateurism. It was hard to imagine senior film-makers like Jean-Luc Godard, especially the favourites of Y/N, and the thousands of breast and butt-naked women takes they had witnessed being filmed in their lifetime. Neil found it hard to imagine them behaving with naturality, but then again he assumed it was the only way to behave if they were actually in search of pristine shots.

"You don't seem to be taking this too seriously." She finally scolded, her forearm hugging her chest to cover her breasts once Neil cut the cameras.

"What do you mean? I'm directing here."

"You're wasting film in countless shots of my tits, what message are you trying to convey?" Interrogation was not on his plans, especially because Neil expected artistic and abstract film to not be questioned, but rather merely interpreted.

"It's about... the beauty of the raw human body." His tone didn't project confidence, and Y/N could tell he was feeding her bull-shit.

"Okay, then I'll film you too."

"Sorry, what?"

"It's not the human body if you also don't see the male." He didn't seem too convinced, obviously it was far more amusing to simply watch than to have to partake. "You and all these film-makers are so open minded when it comes to seeing women, but there's still a taboo for the male body." Neil couldn't find in him the interest to follow her idea. Obviously she had a valid point, but he was never the type to pay attention to the underlying message behind highly interpretable films, rather driven to puzzling movies where connecting the dots until the end was the reason to get his brain working.

However, how could he disagree? By that point it couldn't get more intimate than that, and a sudden high of confidence invaded him and prompted him to begin to undress himself. He began by his shirt, clumsily taking it off and visibly embarrassed. As he begins to rid himself from his pants and underwear, feeling the lens of the camera stare at him probingly, the desire to turn back strikes him to his core. He finally stands there, exposed and naked. He tries to look defiant and confident, but he's achingly vulnerable.

The camera is delighted with his expressions, and his body is posed like he wants to bend inwards and disappear into the air, but just when the filming of his most exposed self seems to never end, the camera lowers and his eyes meet with hers, and her own naked body too.

The naturality with which she accepted being in the spotlight seemed to indicate it was not the first time she filmed something of the sort, and Neil began to wonder who exactly had been gifted with pioneering in such a scene. He, on the other hand, was awkward and hardly artistic, his skinny body and shaky blue eyes screaming how out of place he felt.

"Do you think that's good enough?"

"Yes, I can't keep lending you more film anyway."

"That was... something." As she sat on the floor naked, her back arched sideways and her legs to her left as her arm supported the body, displaying total relaxation. Meanwhile, he couldn't wait for her permission to get back dressed, staring at her clothes as he waited for her to pick them up and imply she could do the same.

"It's a great thing when you realise you still have the ability to surprise yourself. Makes you wonder what else you can do that you've forgotten about."

"American Beauty?"

"Yes." In a way, the scene did share odd similarities to the American classic. The filming of odd, regular things and their naked bodies, Neil was bound to expect what would come next would follow as in the movie. He slowly crouched and sat before her, the two sharing brief stares that felt like a lifetime. Her gaze was soft and mellow, contagiously transmitting her tranquillity to his own as he pondered on whether to make a move or not.

By that point it was obvious they were not going to leave that room without something happening before, but the decision of who would initiate the contact seemed to be difficult as the longest minute of their lives passed by them.

So when she finally accommodated her posture and began to lean closer to him, he crawled her way progressing from soft and careful movements to pounding her against the floor. The sound of bone against the wooden floor caused them both to wince, her face wrinkling in a frown of pain. It was before she could hold her head to stroke herself that his own hand slid down from her temple to the back of her head, holding her up to finally kiss her.

The kiss was long, and the sound of their lips engaging in humid contact as their tongues went in and out of each other's mouth echoed across the empty room, Neil's free hand travelling from her navel to her breast as her arms wrapped around his slender body. Her legs followed the motion, soon making her look like she hung from him, clinged to his back as he arched to reach closer to her. Her gaze ogled from the corner of her eye in search of the camera as her arm reached out, finally being released from his grip to set up and continue to film themselves, a prime example of human beauty in its most raw expression.

Needless to say that beyond physical pleasure, it was an intellectual disappointment for the two that despite their love for film, they still couldn't make sex look and feel like a scene from Body Heat, sexiness was greatly rehearsed after all.

this sucks ass i just wanted to write filmbro cillian murphy and yap about my favorite movies tbhngl

#cillian murphy #watching the detectives #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK ONE - HEAD OVER HEELS

You weren’t expecting to get a call back. In all honesty you were expecting to hear nothing from the casting crew. This was your last ditch effort before you gave up and looked for another job, a more practical job as people would say. 

Being in the industry was hard if your parents weren't already in it or if you didn't have enough money. You've barely been getting by with doing advertising. And while you still weren't sure what specific field you wanted to go into, you thought that music videos could be cool.

So that's why you sent in a thumb drive of photos of you. Which wasn't the weirdest thing you've had to do to pay rent but it was still a bit iffy.

It had been a week or so. And in that time usually the rejection is already setting in so really there was no need to hear the word ‘no’ or read it in an email. You got the gist. You weren’t chosen. 

Just when you’re about to click on an application for a desk receptionist job in an office space downtown, you hear the ping from your phone. Thinking it’s just another senseless ad you open your phone. And to our surprise its not an ad. Or a phishing link. 

You got it. You got the lead role in the music video. You let out a scream and then cover your mouth with your own hand. Then you scream again, it’s muffled this time. You put your phone down and jump to your feet. Jumping around is the most cardio you’ve gotten this week.

You reach for your phone again and read the email again.

“We’re please to offer you the role of the love interest in an upcoming music video. Of course because of the artist’s large stature we’ll need you to sign an NDA if you agree to come on. Please contact us at the number below if you have any concerns…” 

You scream again. 

This is it. You can feel it. In your bones, something is starting right now. And you’re at the center of it. This means you can't give up, you won't give up.

-

Dick didn’t want to come off as a creep. He’s already known as the heartthrob of Hollywood and that’s not doing him any favors. It’s not that he wants to be a heartbreaker. And nine times out of ten he isn’t. It’s just that he’s looking for something real. Not some fleeting PR relationship. 

Of course the casting of a love interest in a music video isn’t really something he needs to concern himself with. And for the past two albums he hasn’t. But he decided to take a chance this time—and Damian straight up told him to do it.

The youngest Wayne had enough of his endless chatter of failing at love and ending up old and lonely. First it was Barbra and then it was Kory, at some point it might have been Donna but that turned out to be more platonic. And then there was Zatana. Damian had had enough.

So he told Dick to look for someone that wasn’t in the music world. Someone who might not even be in the entertainment industry. Which was hard because who would want to enter the hectic Hollywood life for a possible relationship? And what if it didn’t work out?

Dick knew it was out of the question. Jason had been lucky to fall in love with his co-star who was up and coming and shared his love for acting. Dick hasn’t had that luck and he doubted he ever would.

But when he asked to see the finalists that would be playing his love interest, he was shooting one last shot into the universe. A call out into the ether for anyone to hear. And someone did. You did. 

He was sent a thumb-drive with five folders. All the four other applicants had professional shots. Like professional backdrops and themed pictures. The works. But you? You kept it simple, you kept it real.

There were only five snapshots of you in the folder but they managed to get Dick’s heart to race. A cafe photo, a fun beach shot. There were two of you out on the street amongst a flower shop. And lastly, the not that did it, a picture of you on a porch taken off guard. The way the sun hit you and the way you seemed so at ease, it made Dick take a moment.

And then he was texting his casting crew that you were the one. Those exact words. And they had agreed and said they would ask if you wanted the role. Dick was happy they did. He couldn’t wait to meet you in person though. 

Maybe you would be the one. He hadn’t written a song in six months besides the one he’s filming a video for. And that’s why he’s doing the video in the first place, to placate fans and business execs. At least long enough for him to write an album.

And you had a face to write a million songs about. You seemed like a genuine and kind person. At the least he'll be able to write a song or two and satisfy his label. At the very most? Maybe he'll fall in love with you, who knows.

#dc x reader #dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson imagine #dick Grayson fic #dick Grayson x you #dc x you #dc fic #dc imagine #famous dc! au (dick's version)

[we-are-inevitable]

hollywood au + flowershop/tattoo artist au ? - asper

oh my fuck. oh my fuck

ty for the ask!! @loving-jack-kelly

***

“Charlie!”

A distant thud, and then: “What the fuck are you yelling for? It’s eight in the morning, oh my God.”

Jack only feels a little bit sorry for him. He should probably feel worse; today is Charlie’s only day off this week, having picked up an extra day at the floral shop he works at, but this— it’s important, truly. “Just— Just hurry up and get in here, man, this is— I— Holy fuck.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, make the disabled guy walk to you instead of come to him. Perfect logic there,” Charlie calls out, his voice getting closer and closer with each word, soon emerging from the small hallway in their shared apartment. “What are you freakin’ out over this time?” He says as he rests his cane against the arm of the couch, plopping down and swinging his bad leg across Jack’s lap.

Instead of replying, Jack just keeps staring down at his phone. Staring at the new notifications. Staring at something that has to be a dream. Right? Because, if this is real— if these notifications are actually there, if Charlie sees them too— then this is going to be fucking insane. This is going to completely change his career.

His hands shake, just barely, as he passes Charlie the phone. “Look. Those— Those ain’t fake. Right? Is that a- a parody account or somethin’?”

Charlie stares at the screen for a few moments, takes it in, and says: “Holy… fuck.”

Instagram: davidjacobs started following you.

You have one unread message from davidjacobs.

“I haven’t even looked at the message yet,” Jack says after a moment, eyes wide. “He, like— that’s him? Like, actually—?”

“His account has the blue check mark and everything,” Charlie says in a rushed voice, and Jack watches him scroll through the Instagram feed after clicking on the account. “This— Look, he just posted photos yesterday from a shoot with Prada. Fucking Prada, Jack, that’s— that’s huge! And this one, he’s on Vanity Fair, and—“

“Give me that,” Jack says, reaching over and ripping his phone out of Charlie’s hands. “Did you look at the—?”

“No, no, I didn’t,” Charlie cuts in, leaning closer to look over Jack’s shoulder. “Open it! Come on, don’t be chicken shit.”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me think?”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me see the DM?”

Jack groans, then clicks on the messages tab. There it is, right there: David Jacobs, requesting to DM him. Jack can’t exactly believe it. David Jacobs, the man who won an Oscar just over a week ago, has messaged him. David Jacobs, the hottest man alive, pop culture’s current golden boy, Jack’s biggest celebrity crush, has messaged him.

He takes a deep breath and opens the DM.

davidjacobs: Hi, Jack! I’m looking to get a tattoo soon, and a buddy of mine sent me your page. Your work is incredible, and your style is exactly what I am looking for. I’d love to book you for a session if you have anything available. I’ll be in Manhattan for a week starting on the 27th before heading back to LA; do you have any availability? If not, I’d love for you to shoot me a message when your bookings open up. Thanks. DJ xx

“Oh my God,” Charlie blurts out, putting a hand on Jac’s shoulder. “Oh my fucking God, David Jacobs wants you to tattoo him! Holy— Do you know what this means?!”

“I— I have to open shop on a Tuesday,” Jack says, almost in a dreamlike state. “I’m fully booked for the next, like, month, but I— I can open shop on a Tuesday, and have him come in, and we can- I don’t know, it would be worth it? He’d tip really fuckin’ well, and—“

“He’s willing to wait for you,” Charlie interrupts. “Holy shit. You’re tattooing an Oscar winner.”

“I’m tattooing an Oscar winner,” Jack repeats, nodding his head.

It slowly starts to sink in. David Jacobs, an Oscar winner, a twenty-three year old with 58.9 million Instagram followers, who’s face is on every ad in the country, Hollywood’s newest heartthrob, wants a tattoo from Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly, whose shop isn’t even that well known. He has about five thousand followers on his personal page, and even less on his shop’s page. He only employs two other artists- a guy named Finch and another named Spot- because he can’t afford a larger space for the shop, and he’s been trying so hard to grow their followings and promote his art, his dream, and now…

Jack takes one look at Charlie, and says, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

And an hour later, David Jacobs’ name is on his books.

#i didnt rlly know how to fit the flowershop thing HAH so charlie is a florist #charlie and jack are besties and roommates #davey is jack’s cause of gay panic #and i’m sure jack will cause davey’s gay panic as well #actually. maybe i want to finish writing this. hm. #this was so fun #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #crutchie #crutchie morris #newsies #livesies #ask a jac ! #newsies musical #javid #javey #jac writes #tattoo hollywood au

[fairyysoup]

Sleazy!talkshowhost!steve??? TELL ME MORE.

cracks my knuckles to tell you about Himb....

sleazy!talkshow host!steve who wasn't always sleazy, he signed up for a theater class at community college at robin's request, only to get fucking picked up by a broadcast promoter who was looking for a cute no-name personality with a pretty face (and ofc flattery works with steve, imagine being 22 years old and told you have the makings of the next hollywood heartthrob). and then when it turns out that women love him fish fear him and guys want to be him, and he takes well to media training, he gets the job!! as the hot young host of the new talk show Ins and Outs, on an MTV-affiliated channel!!

Ins and Outs premieres in early 1990, with its first guest star being Kylie Minogue- and Steve Harrington quickly becomes a household name for his wit and his adorable golden retriever personality! Robin is ultra proud. Eddie is insanely jealous. He dates models, signs deals to host awards ceremonies and is featured in each Sexiest Man of the Year magazine between the years 1990-95.

But Steve has always had an ego, and the odds of him retaining his small town charm with that amount of success and stardom is a million to zero; in 1995 at age 28, Steve is the hottest talk show host in hollywood and absolute Fuckboy Supreme. he falls out of touch with the Hawkins gang as his fame climbs higher. He's photographed entering a party with one B-List celebrity on his arm, and leaving three hours later with another. He gets mixed reviews in social circles; to some, he's the nicest guy you'll ever meet. To others, he smiles real big but there's nothing genuine behind his eyes, he comes off like a condescending ass.

Honestly, both are true. Steve can be sweet, and pleasant, and talk a good game. He's a wizard at seducing people, and he knows just how to spin his words so that he says a lot but doesn't tell you much. because, after years of being jaded by Hollywood, Steve is gonna be damned if anyone gets to see the Steve Harrington who babysat kids and worked at Scoops Ahoy ever again.

That is, until you show up as a guest on Ins and Outs. You're "fresh meat" as far as hollywood is concerned, a rising star the likes of Pam Anderson who's just gotten their breakout role in a prime time tv series. You're excited to be here, but... you see right through Steve's veneer from the first word.

And Steve fucking hates it.

#and i OOP #👀👀 #talkshow host!steve #steve harrington #steve thoughts #steve harrington x reader #asks #rose shut up #steve harrington blurb

[ilovewhiteroses]

Play Pretend

Pairing: Actor!Ty Shaw x Female Agent Reader Genre: Fluff, humour, drama Warnings: Some smut and curse words Rating: 18+ Notes: - This time I wanted to write about another Boyd character, Ty Shaw from the 2022 movie 'Vengeance'. - The story is set in an alternative universe, where Ty is an actor who does romantic comedies - Thank you @jessamydreams for the main idea and Dax @ruflirtingwithme for the southern euphemisms  💕💕

 Ty Shaw, the charming actor, has hired you as his agent and assistant. One day he was invited to a wedding. Since he was single and didn't want to go alone, he asked you to play his girlfriend

Despite becoming a popular actor, Tyler Clayton Shaw remained the nice guy he always was. Born and raised in Texas, Ty has always valued family and his mom taught him to always respect women. He liked hamburgers, especially when they came from a fast food restaurant called ’Whataburger’, and he also liked conspiracy theories. People told him that he had both the looks and the talent to be an actor. Ty himself toyed with the idea several times, and finally decided to move to New York to find an agent and go to auditions. The plan worked and soon after he became the new heartthrob of romantic comedies.

Unfortunately, however, poor Ty has had a hard time lately. His sister, Abilene died last year, and now his girlfriend broke up with him a few weeks ago. In addition to all this, his career began to decline and the good roles avoided him. Ty was so distraught by these that he decided to retire from filming for a while. He didn't leave his house and didn't answer the phone to anyone except his mother or grandmother. This went on for a few months until one day Ty decided: he would return to acting, but this time he wanted more dramatic roles. He fired his old agent and moved to Los Angeles.

You were sitting in front of your computer as you just uploaded your resume to a job search site. You worked as an agent and assistant in Hollywood and now you were looking for a new job. Your most recent client was a talented, young actress who was suddenly overtaken by popularity and unfortunately, that came at a price. She went to clubs to party more than to work on sets. At first you tried to help her, but even after several requests she refused to change so you quitted. You hoped that your new client would be a much more mature and responsible person.

You didn't have to wait long, a few days later your phone rang.

"Hello! Am I talking to Y/N?” asked a pleasant male voice with a southern accent.

"Yes, it's me."

"Great! My name is Ty Shaw.” the name was familiar to you. "I recently moved here from New York and I'm looking for a new agent. I read your resume and called to ask if you would work for me. You don't have to answer now, I'd like to meet in person before that." he said kindly. You agreed and decided on where the meeting should be.

 The meeting took place in a fancy restaurant, which was popular among celebrities. Ty told you about his career and why he moved to Los Angeles, and you told him about your past clients. You found him likable. In fact, even a handsome guy. No wonder that fans were so into him. He was tall, blond, and blue-eyed - like the prince in the fairy tale, only in person. In addition, all this was accompanied by a deep, sexy voice... but stop it right there! Your job was to take care of his acting career, you weren't allowed to think about other things.

So you started working for him. You called several directors and producers to let you know if they know of any drama projects, because your client was looking for just such opportunities. Until there was nothing interesting, Ty started to workout again and paid more attention to his inner peace, because deep inside he still couldn't move on from the bad things that previously happened to him. Over time he opened up to you and told you what hurt his soul. You listened to him and gave him advice. You not only looked for good roles for him, but you paid attention to him as a person and he appreciated that.

When there was something that caught his interest, you called the director and went to the meeting with Ty. He was considered for one of the lead roles in a yet-untitled family drama, which would be a great opportunity for him to make a comeback. Filming will start in a few months, and Ty had time to immerse himself in the script and prepare for the role.

Lately, you've realized that you're not just co-workers anymore, but friends. Ty often told you about his childhood in Texas and his family, sometimes he was explaining you wild conspiracy theories. You liked it that he was so honest and sweet with you. Of course, just like all celebrities, Ty also went to parties, but with responsibility, because the paparazzi were everywhere and he didn't want to bring shame on himself and his family by being photographed in a drunken state. You were very happy about this.

One day when Ty got home after swimming in the ocean, he found an envelope in his mailbox. Official and film stuff was sent to your office, personal letters went to Ty. Inside the envelope was an invitation: it turned out that his childhood best friend, Gerry was getting married in the Bahamas. Ty whistled as he read the text with a tasteful font.

"Wedding on an island? Look at that! Gerry, things turned out well for ya!" he said approvingly as he ran a hand through his hair and entered his house. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't seen Gerry for a long time, but Gerry must have read about him on some celeb gossip website and knew about his breakup. Shit! Everyone will go with their partner, and he didn't have anyone. Ty didn't want to be pitied for being single. He had to figure something out: who could he take with him? He looked at the names in his phone and caught his eyes on yours. It's true that you were his agent, but at the same time, you were also his good friend. He thought about what it would be like if he asked you to play his girlfriend.

In the late afternoon, you were in the kitchen putting the dirty dishes and cutlery into the dishwasher when the bell rang. You went outside and saw Ty.

"Hi! What's up?" you asked as you let him in and invited him into your apartment.

"Nothing special. I mean…the thing is…well…” Ty was visibly embarrassed, searching for words. "I was invited to my childhood friend's wedding."

"That’s great! And where will it be?” you asked as you went back to clean up. You didn't leave it there just because he was present.

"In the Bahamas." Ty replied, rocking himself back and forth slightly in confusion.

"Wow! Then it will be very nice! And who are you taking with you?” you asked. Only after a few seconds of pause Ty spoke.

"Well, that's why I came. I was thinking what if… well… if you pretended to be my girlfriend.” Hearing the request, the glass almost fell out of your hand.

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears. In your career, you have never been asked by a client to do something like this.

"You can say no, I would completely understand it. I could look for someone else."

"No, it's not that, it's just that I'm your agent and I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Look, let's just pretend that we're together and after that we can go back to the old ways." Ty said, somewhat relieved.

"Well, if you insist on it, then fine, I'll pretend I'm your girlfriend. But no funny business!” Ty put his hand over his heart.

"I promise I'll be a gentleman the entire time, ma'am."

"Okay then. Now that you're my “boyfriend”, in return, tomorrow, you have to come look at clothes with me for the wedding." you told him with a grin. Ty rolled his eyes and smiled.

So that's how you became Ty Shaw's new girlfriend and you hoped that you would give an authentic performance. And then, what trouble can come out of this? You go and have a good time, that's all.

 To get used to each other, you arrived on the island a week before the wedding and stayed in an elegant hotel room. The furniture in the room and the bathroom were decorated in white and cream colors, and the balcony provided a magnificent view of the blue ocean. You unpacked and looked around.

"This is breathtakingly beautiful!" you said leaning back on the bed.

"It is. This is the most beautiful hotel room I have ever been in.” he said and sat next to you on the bed. You closed your eyes and rested for a few minutes, because you were exhausted from the flight. Ty looked at you in silence, admiring your beauty. For a moment, it was as if he felt something for you…

You opened your eyes and sat up.

"What shall we do?" you asked him.

"I think we should go and eat at a restaurant and then have a good night's sleep. We'll see Gerry and his family tomorrow.”

"Okay."

You went out for dinner then Ty signed autographs and took selfies with some fans. After returning to your room, you quickly brushed your teeth, had a shower and put on your oversized t-shirt and panties combo.

"I'm done, you can go now." you said to Ty who was sitting on the sofa waiting his turn.

"I’ll go then." he said while looking at your nice legs. For a moment, just for fun, he imagined what could be under your t-shirt...

"Where do you want to sleep?" you asked him, jolting him back to reality.

"Well, uh, the sofa will be fine for me, you just sleep in the bed." he replied scratching his head in confusion.

"Sure?"

"Sure."

You packed away your used clothes and were preparing for a new set for tomorrow, when Ty took off his shirt and flashed you his sexy, naked upper body. As much as you liked the sight, you tried to stare at him unobtrusively. He's your client! The sentence echoed in your head. Ty went into the bathroom and you got into bed and turned on the TV until you both fell asleep.

You woke up in the middle of the night and went to Ty. You woke him up softly. You took off your t-shirt and leaned in to kiss him. A little later you and him were rolling naked on the bed...

Your phone's alarm went off. You turned it off and went back to bed for a few more minutes. You buried your face in your hands. You had a very sexy dream last night that seemed quite real. You couldn't help it because Ty was a very attractive guy. But even then, you were already embarrassed by the thought of how you would be able to look him in the eye after this.

  In the coming days, you met Gerry and his future wife, Vanessa, their relatives and the other guests. Fortunately, you played the boyfriend and girlfriend with convincing authenticity, and everyone believed that you were a couple in love. Meanwhile, you and Ty sometimes went for a walk on the beach, hand in hand, and to avoid the fans at the restaurant, you took dinner up to your room. After a few days, you both felt as if you had been in a relationship for a while. You laughed a lot and debated various interesting and less interesting theories. In addition to these, of course, sex was also discussed and you learned a few intimate things about each other.

When you went swimming in the ocean, you put on your sexiest bikini. "Lord have mercy!" Ty said to himself. While you were happily swimming, he started to fantasize...He imagined kissing your neck and untying your binding top and bottom, and then you would make love on the beach...You often hinted at naughty things and looked at each other's bodies when you had the chance. Although you were still sleeping in the bed and he was still sleeping on the sofa, the sexual tension between you was obvious.

 Three days before the wedding, you went partying at one of the local clubs. You danced a lot and drank tequila. When you were no longer thirsty, you asked Ty to teach you some southern euphemisms.

” Good Golly Miss Molly! I’m bein' two sheets to the wind.”

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm fucking drunk! Hehe!” Ty said laughing so hard he almost fell off the bar stool.

"Say more of these!" you pleaded.

"What's that, sweetheart? You likin’ the southern style? Okay, listen: Bless yer heart. It can mean good, but it can also mean fuck you.”

"Oh. Then I'll pay attention when I say it."

"There is also: To be six ways from Sunday. It means my brain is so scattered it's thinking six ways from Sunday or I got so much to do, I'm just six ways from Sunday.”

"These are so good!" you told him biting your lip. As a result of the drink, his accent came out even more, which you found very sexy.

"Right?" Ty asked and looked into your eyes before grabbing your shoulder. "I think it's time..hehe..to go back to the ho..tel."

You somehow managed to get back to your room. You didn't turn on the light because it would have disturbed your eyes and then the moonlight illuminated the room just enough.

"I think... I'll go and take a shower." you said and were about to head to the bathroom when Ty grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You looked deeply into each other's eyes. Your heart started beating faster than it should. Emboldened by the alcohol, Ty kissed you as an experiment. You closed your eyes and felt his soft lips on yours. When Ty felt you weren't protesting, he held you closer to him and you tilted your head a little to the side so you could kiss each other more passionately. You stopped and pulled your clothes off each other. Not long after, you found yourself naked in bed. Ty started kissing your breasts, licking your nipples. This made you moan out loud and he took that as encouragement and went lower. He gently bit your thighs and then started to pleasure you with his tongue in your most intimate part. It was so good and he was doing it so well that you started to squirm under him and grip the sheets wildly. When you were wet enough, Ty stopped.

"I'll bring a condom, don't go anywhere!" he said enthusiactically.

"I won’t." you said and laughed.

Ty came back and tore the condom open with his teeth, put it on him and leaned over you. He kissed you and carefully placed himself inside you. You imagined him to be just like this... You scratched his back while he moved his hips with wild thrusting movements. You had such a crazy good time that you were surprised that the bed didn't break. You've wanted this ever since you met him and now your wish has finally come true...

 The next day you woke up with a hangover and a headache. Before you got out of bed, you saw your crumpled clothes on the floor and you looked behind you to see Ty lying on his stomach and snoring loudly. This was already suspicious to you, then you looked under your covers and saw that you were naked...

Oh God, no.

The realization sobered you up almost immediately, although your head still hurt. What happened last night? You had a couple of drinks and laughed a lot, then you got back to your room and... well, exactly what you thought happened.

You felt terrible, you felt like you made a mistake.

You got out of bed and looked for painkillers, while Ty slowly regained consciousness. He turned on his back and opened his eyes.

"Hey! What are you doing?” he asked lazily. You didn't dare to answer him. You took the medicine and pretended to pack in your bag in your embarrassement. When you heard Ty swearing softly to himself, you felt nervous. As embarrassing as it was, you had to settle things. You walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

"My head hurts like hell! Wait a minute? Why am I naked and what are my clothes doing on the floor...and yours?" he asked as he slowly scanned the room with his eyes before returning to you. "Did we…?"

"Yes. I'm afraid. Look, this shouldn't have happened.”

"Fuck no! Fuck!" Ty said angrily as he got out of bed. "No! This shouldn't have happened! Just because we pretend to be a couple, we shouldn't have done it!"

"We drank too much that night and we both lost control." you tried to explain the situation. Ty tried to say something but couldn't find the words. You just looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, then he spoke.

"You're right. We were both drunk and then... As embarrassing as it is, let's try to pretend like nothing happened."

"It won't be that easy." you told him between deep sighs.

Another few seconds of silence followed.

"You know what? I think it would be better if I went to another room until Saturday, so that I could clear my head and think about us. Will we still be able to maintain our working relationship and friendship after this?" he asked with sad eyes. You nodded, you also thought it would be better if you separated for a while. Ty also took painkillers, showered, and then called the reception to ask for another room. He gathered his belongings and left.

 You didn't see him until the day of the wedding. You were trying to think about what to do next. It is certain that you can no longer regard each other as mere friends. You hoped Ty wouldn't think of firing you. The thought felt like a punch in the stomach.

 Saturday has finally come. You wore a peach-colored dress with straps, because the invitation stipulated that the guests should wear brightly colored clothes. You went to the beach, almost everyone was already there. Until the ceremony started, you admired the wonderful decorations and flowers, while you chatted a little with the people you met during the week.

"Where is your boyfriend?" asked one of the bride's friends. You had to come up with something fast.

"Well, um. He still had a few phone calls to make, but he'll be here soon." you replied with a forced grin. Once everyone had arrived and taken their seats, the ceremony began, but Ty was still nowhere to be seen. You were just starting to worry when luckily he appeared and sat next to you.

"Am I late?" he asked, adjusting his cufflinks.

"No, it's just beginning." you answered You took a closer look at him. He looked so good in his elegant suit that it made your heart flutter. Feelings swirled inside you. You wanted Ty to be there with you and not. You wanted him, but at the same time you didn't. You enviously looked at Gerry and Vanessa, the happiness on their faces and sighed sadly.

You tried to have a good time at the wedding party, the delicious food and drinks made you forget your bad mood for a while. You talked to Gerry's mom and you saw Ty talking to several women. As you watched him cheerfully chatting with them, you didn't like the sight, in fact, you were almost jealous. To overcome this feeling, you quickly went to the bar to have a drink and then looked for a good guy to dance with. You found a dance partner in one of Gerry's colleagues. He was very nice and couldn't help but compliment you on how pretty you were. While you were dancing, you noticed Ty, who was also dancing with a woman he was talking to earlier. He was looking at you intensely, as if he wanted to annoy you.

A little later, you sat at one of the tables and looked at your phone. A slow song started playing and Ty walked over to you and held out his hand.

"May I ask you for a dance?" he asked you like a southern gentleman. You nodded, put down the phone and gave him your hand. He led you to the dance floor and gently put his arm around your waist. You started swaying to the slow tune.

"I forgot to say, but you look beautiful."

"Thanks, others have already said it." you replied somewhat sarcastically. Ty could feel that you were angry.

"Look. I would like to apologize for requesting another room and disappearing for a while. I thought about the two of us and what happened. The fact is that I've had a lot of fun with you for the past few days and well...I have to admit, the sex was amazing too. We took our role a little too seriously." he smiled in embarrassment and continued. "Despite what happened, I would like you to remain my agent, but after this we can only have a working relationship, nothing more. I hope you understand." he said in a more serious tone this time.

"Yes." you answered. His words nearly broke your heart...

Slowly everyone left, you also returned to the hotel. Ty wished you goodnight and gave you a kiss on the cheek before going to his own room. Tired and with a heavy heart, you washed off your make-up, showered and then tried to sleep a little. The next day you and him took the early evening flight back to Los Angeles.

 Ty was about to start shooting the movie soon, which would hopefully bring him back to the top league of Hollywood. He kept his word and now really only saw you as his agent and assistant. You only spoke on the phone and only met in person when you gave him a script. You were bitter that your friendship turned into this, but you kept to your agreements.

Lying in your bed at night, you thought about Ty a lot. It true that he was an actor, but when you were on the island, you felt that his feelings for you were genuine. The way he looked at you, that look was everything. Then you remembered that night. His kiss on your lips, on your body, the smell of his skin, the weight of his body on you, your lustful moans... You had to admit, you missed him.

 A couple of weeks later you got a text from Ty.

Can we talk? In person.

You wrote back yes, and then your doorbell rang. You were surprised, but you went outside and it turned out that he was standing at the gate. You let him in into your apartment.

"If you're wondering, there were more roles, but none of them were of interest to you..."

"That's not what I came for." he cut you off suddenly. "I want to talk to you, tell you something." he said seriously. You gulped.

"What would it be?"

"Um." Ty looked away for a moment, then continued. "You know that I'm already preparing for the role and I've been thinking about things, including us. When we were on the island and when I realized what we had done in the morning after the night, I panicked and was confused. I needed some time to clear my mind. We've been getting along so well so far and you know, I've been toying with the idea of what if..." he pointed to you and then to himself. "You and I...we'd try. Because let's face it, we're two adults who know each other pretty well and know what's under the other's clothes." Ty said half-jokingly.

"Are you serious?" you asked because you thought he wasn’t.

”If I wasn’t serious, I wouldn't be here now and I wouldn't have said these things."

Hearing his words calmed you, because you were convinced that he had come to tell you that he could no longer work with you and that you were fired.

"Well, you know, what you said, they crossed my mind too, but… if you're really serious about this, then I think we could try.” you said with a half smile.

You talked about that you will start dating and will take it slow and see how things will go later between the two of you.

💕

Tags: @harlekin6, @thecorilove86, @ruflirtingwithme,

@i-like-the-eyes, @suziejolie @drowningnikki

@slasherbaby, @jessamydreams @kingredking

@merryandrewsworld, @e-dubbc11, @destiny-rahl​

#ty shaw #boyd holbrook #vengeance #ty shaw fanfic #ty shaw x reader fanfic

[bitletsanddrabbles]

How The Boyfriends Would Describe Thomas

Since I did a breakdown of how Thomas would describe the boyfriends to someone, I figured it was only fair to return the favor. So, here are the boys from the Poly!Thomas-verse describing their lover boy, or at least waxing poetic about why they love him. Line got a bit blurred there.

...for the record, Richard Ellis is a little brat...

Chris: Thomas Barrow is one enormous puzzle. A sexy puzzle, I grant you, but still a puzzle. He’s gay, obviously, and for the most part he’s completely comfortable with the fact. At the same time, when I met him he’d never been in a gay bar? What thirty six year old queer man in the twenty first century has never been in a gay bar? And when I asked him about it, he said he’d been past Turton’s before, of course he had, but he’d just...never thought to go in. Said it was because he didn’t have anyone to go with, but he could have gone to meet people. Watching him, the first time I got him in there and started dancing with him...you’d have thought we’d fallen down a rabbit hole! And it was wonderful, watching him come alive and discover new things he could do, you know? I love that. I could spend my entire life just watching Thomas discover new things that he loves.

Richard: Thomas spent his past nine lives as a cat, and it shows. You know how much I love cats.

Guy: You know those dreadful car commercials that start out with ‘the following are real people, not actors’? Well, dehumanizing as they are, there’s something to it. No matter how many interviews you do, the public never really knows you as a person. They know you as an actor, as this larger than life celebrity who’s got it made and lives on easy street. It’s flattering, of course, all of the praise and proclamations of adoration, and a bit terrifying if you’re like me and keep waiting for them to figure out you’re not really that grand. The thing is, Thomas never cared about any of that. From the moment we walked into Downton Abbey, we were just people doing our jobs...and perhaps getting in the way a little. Or a lot, I was never quite certain. And when I talked to him, he seemed more interested in me, myself than in Guy Dexter, Hollywood’s Heartthrob. I could look for a hundred years and I doubt I’d find someone less interested in the public persona and more interested in the man, and I love him so much for that.

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #wip #thomas barrow #richard ellis #guy dexter #chris webster #thomas/chris/richard/guy #modern au #poly relationship

[agentnico]

Wonka (2023) Review

Anyone doubting Chalamet's singing abilities need look no further than his Tiny Horse skit on SNL from 2 years ago. All I'll say is you're welcome!

Plot: With dreams of opening a shop in a city renowned for its chocolate, a young and poor Willy Wonka discovers that the industry is run by a cartel of greedy chocolatiers.

Everyone scratched their heads upon the announcement that young Hollywood heartthrob Timothee Chalament was cast as the famous Roald Dahl chocolatier. Then when the trailer was released it did not instill much confidence either. Something was jarring about witnessing the usually brooding and stoic Dune/Call Me by Your Name actor acting quirky and silly. Comparisons to Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp were of course inevitable as this is the third attempt at adapting Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory children's book, so would Chalamet simply be attempting to portray a cheap knock-off of his predecessors, and what if Timmy simply lacks the Whimsy to play the silly little guy?

Turns out we had nothing to worry about, especially as we seem to have all forgotten that Wonka's directed by Paul King. You know, the guy behind those sweet Paddington films. Those movies are simply the most delightful and innocently sweet little things, featuring universal themes of kindness and embracing new things, featuring genuine laughs, moments that could make you cry, and an overall homage to recent and classic films. Less one forgets that Paddington 2 also holds the endorsement of no other than Nicolas Cage within The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent which goes out of its way to name-drop Paddington 2 and turns it into a running gag that helps members of the cast bond. With Wonka Paul King's magic feels right at home, as he delivers a warm old-fashioned musical extravaganza, that has the innocence and silliness of the Paddington films, mixed with the darker undertones from the Roald Dahl's classic.

Speaking of the musical aspect, the songs in this film are actually really lovely. Naturally, you have the returning remixes of 'Oompa Loompa' and 'Pure Imagination', but the new tracks are truly delightful, with Timothee Chalamet's singing on point, and the melodies very old-school, basking in their simplicity yet accompanying the capriciousness of the movie perfectly. The production design is great, with lots of colours that pop that should provide enough visual candy for the kids going to the movies this holiday season. The costumes also stood out, and I loved how Wonka's suit was an amalgamation of Wilder's and Depp's outfits. What shocks me is that the costume designer here Limmy Hemming is the same one behind Nolan's The Dark Knight. Such different looks, but then again if you change Willy's jacket from red to purple there are similarities to the Joker outfit...

In regards to Chalamet's Wonka - he's solid. Would a different actor maybe have been a better choice? Probably, however, Timothee manages to deliver a high level of quirk through his enunciation and movements, with his Wonka innocent to a fault, and morally pure. The supporting cast is full of comedians who take turns stealing scenes. Hugh Grant's Oompa Loompa is an uncanny highlight that takes a while to appear and is absolutely worth the wait. Paterson Joseph excels at playing a full-on pantomime villain complimented by Matt Lucas and Matthew Baynton to make for a delightfully evil trio. An entertaining pairing of Olivia Colman and Tom Davis results for an awkward yet at times hilarious double-act, and amusing yet under-used turns from Keegan Michael-Key and Rowan Atkinson leave you wanting more.

Wonka is an easily digestible and polished family movie for the holiday season that is a rare example of a prequel that justifies its existence. I would say that the comedy doesn't always land and felt as if Paul King and the team were held a bit back with how absurd they were willing to go. I don't know, it feels like putting Mr. Bean and a runaway giraffe together in a church could have led to wilder results than what we are ultimately given. Maybe it's remembering Tim Burton's brand of humour that felt more satirical than this fairly tame Wonka. I'm aware many audiences have mixed opinions on the Tim Burton Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, however myself and my fiancee watched it a few months back and found it to be absolutely hilarious! Also, Christopher Lee as a despicable angry dentist who hates chocolate was just *chef's kiss*. As for Wonka? Well, everyone needs a little willy in their life... I'm of course talking about the movie and nothing else!

Overall score: 7/10

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka #timothee chalamet #2023 #paul king #2023 in film #2023 films #movie #film #wonka review #keegan michael key #olivia colman #hugh grant #matt lucas #paterson joseph #mathew baynton #rowan atkinson #sally hawkins #comedy #musical #adventure #family #roald dahl #charlie and the chocolate factory #movie reviews #film reviews #cinema #2023 movies #paddington

[mrlondonboy]

𓏲  *   ( sebastian stan, cismale, he/him, henry cavill cc )   ⸺   pictures of HAROLD “HARRY”  GRIFFIN JR have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to not signing on his latest superhero movie — i'm not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their fitted suits that could be dressed down, slicked back hair and striking blue eyes,  i'm not surprised to hear that they are considered part of the BLUE BLOODS. after forty years, they've managed to garner a reputation for being more generous than dramatic, but their critics say that they're more impulsive than creative when they aren't too busy focusing on their living in the shadow of his multi-Emmy winning father, attending the endless award shows and after parties, huge superhero franchise that are impossible to escape. when they aren't occupied with their work as a producer / actor, they've been sighted reading comic books. reputation.com has taken to calling them LONDON BOY in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).

. . . . . ╰──╮connections | career | pinterest | playlist

full name:  Harold Griffin Jr

nicknames:  Harry, HGJ

gender:  cismale

pronouns:  he/him

sexuality:  bisexual

age:  forty

date of birth:  February 3

birthplace: London, England

zodiac sign:  Aquarius

occupation:  producer / actor

career claim: Henry Cavill

inspiration: Robert Downy Jr, Scott Eastwood, Alex Skarsgard

tldr;

Harry is the first child out of four to famous film director Harry Griffin Sr. ( Steven Spielberg fame ). He had always grew up around movies.

Going to movie premiers were just fun family activity for Harry growing up. He also loved to visit his father on set. He did get small background roles in a lot of his father's films.

His family moved from London to LA when he was fifteen. His mother wanted him and his siblings to have a little bit of a normal childhood. He attended the best private schools both in London and LA.

By the time he was turning 18, Harry was in the spotlight. The world knew about him, from his father. He was a bit of a teenage heart throb that wasn't actually in the film industry. All of his fame came from his father's success.

His curiosity on getting more into film industry had him asking other directors, who were friends of his father to be in their movies. It took a while but Harry got his first acting credit in a small period film . It showed off Harry's true acting skills.

Soon every teenage girl had posters of him on their walls. Harry was going to events and premieres just for him to be there on the carpet. He became a true 90's heartthrob

His next movie he landed was a large budget historical piece . The director loved his look that they needed him to be in the film. The film blew up in the box office sky rocketing Harry's career. He was one of Hollywood's biggest name before 30.

After the success of the film, he took a few roles here and there but it was at this time that he wanted to work behind the scenes and start producing. Mostly working with his favorite directors and cast. He did this for a few years, taking a break from being in the main spotlight. He didn't stop acting, just not taking the main lead.

It was the casting choice for one hugely anticipated superhero movie that got Harry back in front of the camera. He was the number one choice to play Superman in the latest remake. He took pride in the role, enjoying the promotion for the movie. The fandom the came with the movie really

Headcannons;

Despite being a born and raised in London, a lot of people believe he is American after his role as Superman.

He is a huge comic / superhero fan. He even produced all the Superman films he was in. As well some other super hero films.

He has a three year old Border Collie, Quinn, to keep his home occupied.

More to come !

#wealth.intro

[cherrrysue]

Football AU

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry

E, 136k

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan. Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Whirlwind by dolce_piccante

M, 21k

AU. Acclaimed actor, Hollywood heartthrob, and Oscar nominee, Harry Styles, seems to have the world at his feet, but seeks out an old friend when he needs a date for his big night.

Pull Me Under by zarah5

E, 140k

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

burn this flame by rainbowninja167

E, 13k

“You’ve played keeper before?” Tomlinson asks suspiciously, hands on his waist. “Er, yeah,” Harry coughs. “Loads of times.” “Alright Popstar, if you’re sure,” Tomlinson tells him with a shrug, his professional expression already curling into laughter. Harry tries not to read too much into it. After all, how hard can goalkeeping really be? When Harry gets invited to play in a celebrity charity match with Louis Tomlinson, Manchester United's star player, he's determined to impress him with brilliant football skills. The only flaw in Harry's otherwise foolproof plan? He has absolutely no football skills, brilliant or otherwise.

We got nothing to lose by iwontseecadyagain

NR, 12k

“Oops!” A deep and slow voice fills Louis’ ears as an arm reaches around his waist, to keep Louis from rebounding into another white-outfitted body – this time a short young girl who could only be gymnast. “Hi,” Louis replies as he turns to smile up at the person and thank him for preventing Louis’ life from dissolving into a real-life game of Pong, but the words dry up in his throat when he sees. The person is a boy, tall and lanky with curly brown hair pushed away from his face messily and held back by a gaudy Union Jack scarf, green eyes sparkling from all the camera flashes and impossibly pink lips curled in a wide smile that nearly encompasses his whole face. And Louis recognizes him instantly. And he thinks that maybe if walking into the Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremony wasn’t enough, having Harry Styles’ arm around him might be the killing blow. Also known as an Olympics AU where Harry is a pro tennis player, and Louis is a pro footballer. They meet at the opening ceremony and fall in love, obviously.

Ain't That A Kick In The Head! by keysmashlesbian, wreckingtomlinson

T, 22K

[deleted, the link will lead you to the pdf file]

“Well.” Niall unlocks his phone. “It wasn’t getting the traction I wanted on Snapchat. So… I tweeted it.” What. “You tweeted it,” Harry states, nearing a state of brain dead. “To your ten thousand followers.” Niall nods, handing Harry the phone. “You’re a meme, Harry.” “I’m a what?” “A meme. It’s like an internet—” “I know what a fucking meme is, Niall! Why did you make me into one?” Niall has the fucking balls to cackle at that while Harry looks at the mess his former friend created. Videos of him screaming at Tomlinson about Tide Pods and his ass are being quoted and combined with memes to a create a level of memeception Harry has never seen before. That isn’t even including the thousands of tweets of him falling up the stairs remixed with random Top 40 songs. ~ In which Harry’s a disaster gay who doesn’t know shit about soccer, Liam drinks too many blue raspberry Coolattas, Niall knows everyone, Zayn looks dead, and Louis is Not Happy about sharing his breakout moment with “Drunk Hawaiian Guy.”

Sing When You're Winning by hazsementir

NR, 90k

Harry is fifteen minutes late to the office on the day Louis Tomlinson comes out as gay. Or, the one where Harry's a chronically underpaid magazine intern and Louis is the Premier League's first gay footballer and pretty much the last thing they need is each other.

#football au #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #fic recs #fic rec #harry styles #larents #larry fic recs

[vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses]

I can't even...

"Why did Depp, who had already lost a similar case in Britain, insist on going back to court? A public trial, during which allegations of physical, sexual, emotional and substance abuse against him were sure to be repeated, couldn’t be counted on to restore his reputation. Heard, his ex-wife, was counting on the opposite: that the world would hear, in detail, about the physical torments that led her to describe herself, in the Washington Post op-ed that led to the suit, as “a public figure representing domestic abuse.”

Even before the verdict came in, Depp had already won. What had looked to many like a clear-cut case of domestic violence had devolved into a “both sides” melodrama. The fact that Heard’s partial victory, which involved not Depp’s words but those spoken in 2020 by Adam Waldman, his lawyer at the time, can be spun in that direction shows how such ambiguity served Depp all along. As one commenter on The New York Times site put it, “Every relationship has its troubles.” Life is complicated. Maybe they were both abusive. Who really knows what happened? The convention of courtroom journalism is to make a scruple of indeterminacy. And so we found ourselves in the familiar land of he said/she said.

We should know by now that the symmetry implied by that phrase is an ideological fiction, that women who are victims of domestic violence and sexual assault have a much harder time being listened to than their assailants. I don’t mean that women always tell the truth, that men are always guilty as charged, or that due process isn’t the bedrock of justice. But Depp-Heard wasn’t a criminal trial; it was a civil action intended to measure the reputational harm each one claimed the other had done. Which means that it rested less on facts than on sympathies.

In that regard, Depp possessed distinct advantages. He isn’t a better actor than Heard, but her conduct on the stand was more harshly criticized in no small part because he’s a more familiar performer, a bigger star who has dwelled for much longer in the glow of public approbation. He brought with him into the courtroom the well-known characters he has played, a virtual entourage of lovable rogues, misunderstood artists and gonzo rebels. He’s Edward Scissorhands, Jack Sparrow, Hunter S. Thompson, Gilbert Grape.

We’ve seen him mischievous and mercurial, but never truly menacing. He’s someone we’ve watched grow up, from juvenile heartthrob on “21 Jump Street” to crusty old salt in the “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise. His offscreen peccadilloes (the drinking, the drugs, the “Winona Forever” tattoo) have been part of the pop-cultural background noise for much of that time, classified along with the scandals and shenanigans that have been a Hollywood sideshow since the silent era.

In his testimony, Depp copped to some bad stuff, but this too was a play for sympathy, of a piece with the charm and courtliness he was at pains to display. That he came off as a guy unable to control his temper or his appetites was seen, by many of the most vocal social media users, to enhance his credibility, while Heard’s every tear or gesture was taken to undermine hers. The audience was primed to accept him as flawed, vulnerable, human, and to view her as monstrous.

Because he’s a man. Celebrity and masculinity confer mutually reinforcing advantages. Famous men — athletes, actors, musicians, politicians — get to be that way partly because they represent what other men aspire to be. Defending their prerogatives is a way of protecting, and asserting, our own. We want them to be bad boys, to break the rules and get away with it. Their seigneurial right to sexual gratification is something the rest of us might resent, envy or disapprove of, but we rarely challenge it. These guys are cool. They do what they want, including to women. Anyone who objects is guilty of wokeness, or gender treason, or actual malice.

Of course there are exceptions. In the #MeToo era there are men who have gone to jail, lost their jobs or suffered disgrace because of the way they’ve treated women. The fall of certain prominent men — Harvey Weinstein, Leslie Moonves, Matt Lauer — was often welcomed as a sign that a status quo that sheltered, enabled and celebrated predators, rapists and harassers was at last changing.

A few years later, it seems more likely that they were sacrificed not to end that system of entitlement but rather to preserve it. Almost as soon as the supposed reckoning began there were complaints that it had gone too far, that nuances were being neglected and too-harsh punishments meted out.

This backlash has been folded into a larger discourse about “cancel culture,” which is often less about actions than words. “Cancellation” is now synonymous with any criticism that invokes racial insensitivity, sexual misbehavior or controversial opinions. Creeps are treated as martyrs, and every loudmouth is a free-speech warrior. Famous men with lucrative sinecures on cable news, streaming platforms and legacy print publications can proclaim themselves victims.

Which is just what Depp did. And while he accused Heard of doing terrible things to him in the course of their relationship and breakup, the lawsuit wasn’t about those things. It was about words published under her name, none of which were “Johnny Depp.” In a sentence the jury found false and malicious, after describing herself as “representing domestic abuse” Heard wrote that she “felt the full force of our culture’s wrath for women who speak out.” This time she surely has.

Misogyny isn’t the subtext of American political rage and social dysfunction; all too often, it’s the plain text. The links between domestic violence and mass shootings are chilling and well documented, though rarely cited in arguments about policy and prevention. The mobs of social media mobilize against women with special frequency and ferocity, often using the language of righteous grievance. Gamergate, a campaign of harassment directed at women who wrote about video game culture, pretended to be about “ethics in journalism.” The alt-right in the months before the 2016 election and its post-Trump progeny specialize in targeted misogyny. The TikTok hordes that went after Amber Heard over the past few months took a page from that book.

Depp’s victory is also theirs. The rage of men whose grievances are inchoate and inexhaustible found expression in a 58-year-old movie star’s humiliation of his 36-year-old former wife. I have to wonder: Are men OK? That’s a sincere question. Does the blend of self-pity, vanity, petulance and bombast that Depp displayed on the stand represent how we want to see ourselves or our sons? That’s a rhetorical question. The answer is yes.

Not all men, though. Right? Now that the trial is over, we’ll find new things to be ambiguous about, new venues where indeterminacy can serve as an alibi for the same old cruelty, and for its newer iterations. Johnny Depp is being embraced as a hero in some quarters, but his victory extends even to those who will allow themselves to feel troubled by the outcome of the trial and then move on. Some of us may wince a little when we watch “Pirates of the Caribbean” or “Donnie Brasco,” but we’ll probably still watch. They’re pretty good movies, and it’s not as if they can be expunged from the collective memory. That hasn’t happened to Louis C.K., or Woody Allen, or Michael Jackson, or Mel Gibson, or even Bill Cosby. Some of them have gone to court, some have faced public censure and disgrace, but they all remain woven into the fabric of the culture, and their behavior is too. We may not entirely forget, but we mostly forgive.

Let’s at least be clear about what that means. It means that we value the comfort and self-regard of men, especially famous ones, more than we value the safety and dignity of women, even famous ones."

(x)

This was written by a man. Which honestly kills me because all it does is prove that misandry is alive and well when it comes to the subject of domestic abuse. Just like that age old view of the patriarchy unable to see women as equals, women as anything other than damsels in distress, fragile little creatures that must be protected at all costs, here we have proof that society is still unable to accept the fact that a woman can abuse a man. And because said abuser is a woman, then society demands that we absolutely believe everything they've claimed despite evidence that was entered into a court of law that was reviewed by legal experts and jurors alike proving the contrary. It demands that not only are we to circle her wagons and defend her due to her anatomy but also turn a blind eye to her abuses of not only a man but other human beings that it has been documented by law enforcement and in a court of law that she actually did.

I am just...astonished. This is the NY Times. They approved this piece. And rather than talk to actual abuse experts and psychological experts, even law enforcement, they choose to continue to be part of the problem.

Let me say this, had I heard JD making the statements on the audio recordings that AH did instead, I absolutely would be just as passionate in supporting her. Because I support ALL survivors, regardless of their gender.

And because of my experience in this arena, because I am a survivor, I can tell you that within seconds of hearing AH speaking that I knew right then, other evidence sight unseen, who was really abusing who. It's a special club that not one of us ever wants to be a part of.

#this was in my drafts #kicking it out #anti amber heard

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK FOUR - LOVE GROWS

It was causal. Or at least that’s what Dick said it was supposed to be. But you can’t really feel casual about meeting up with the heartthrob of Hollywood to hang out. 

Your mind was racing with questions. Why you? Sure he had flirted with you on set of his music video, but maybe that was just how he is? Who knows what’s going on here, you for sure don’t!

Standing outside the Bludhaven aquarium waiting for Dick Grayson? That sounded like delusion in its finest form.

You take out your phone and unlock it. Maybe he was running late. You open your message app and click on his contact. How weird was that, you could just pull up his information. Like you were old friends. 

Just as you’re about to type out something a call flashes across your screen. It’s Dick.

You pick up the call, raising the phone to your ear.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say.

“I just parked my car, I’m walking up to the front now. I think I see you.” he says.

You turn around thinking he might be behind you. And there he is. In a black jacket and a fitted baseball cap and jeans. Wow. You didn’t think he could look any more attractive and he’s wearing anti-paparazzi gear.

You hang up the call and wave at him. He waves right back at you. When he finally closes the distance between the two of you you can see him clearly. He’s smiling. 

“Dick Grayson, can I ask why you invited me to the aquarium to hangout?” you ask.

He laughs and holds out his arm. You take it and he walks the both of you inside. You think you’ll have to pay for tickets for entry but the booth operator seems to know Dick. And with a simple nod and a wave you two are inside.

“I just wanted to hang out somewhere simple.” he answers. 

The darkness encloses the both of you. You could barely see him if you weren’t this close. Ah. 

It’s then that it hits you. Simple. That’s what he wanted, what he craved. He can’t go anywhere without getting his picture taken or being swarmed by fans. Going out to a restaurant, going to a club would be too much.

But an aquarium? Who would think to look for Dick Grayson at an aquarium? It's either crowded or empty and almost always dark.

You two walk through the fish tanks first with light conversation. He asked about what made you want to be in music videos. And you asked him what was the first song he heard that made him want to be a musician. 

The conversation goes on like this easily until you get to the jellyfish exhibit. The last time you were at an aquarium was probably during a school trip. So seeing the majestic creatures just floating around in the vast blue water captured you instantly. 

You stare with your mouth slightly agape.

“This is one of them.” Dick says.

You turn to him in confusion, “What?” 

“One of the greater sights.” 

You nod and then think yourself about how quickly he got inside and how the employee seemed to know him.

“How many times have you seen this exhibit?” you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders at you, “More than I can count.” 

You remember his answer from the last time you asked that question. It’s the same wording. You wonder if there is any place he hasn’t seen. If there is any place that made Dick Grayson just stand there in complete wonder and awestruck.

“Maybe the next time we hang out I’ll take you some place you haven’t been.” you say.

“It’s a da—deal.” he smiles. 

You smile back.

-

You didn’t think you would be his first call. Not at all. Truthfully you two just met and yes you hit it off really well, there are surely people he could call for things like this. Surely you weren’t on the top of his list.

“Dick, can you just—say it again.” 

“I have a plus one to this event thing, and I wanted to see if you’d come with me.” he says.

“The Grammys. You have a plus one to the biggest night in music.” you add on.

“Yeah that would be the one.” he speaks.

“I know I said we could hangout again but I didn’t think we’d do it at the Grammys.” you joke.

You can hear him laugh on the other end. You’d heard it over and over since you’ve met him, which is weird. Weird because when you read about him and see videos of him online he laughs differently, like it’s a performance. When he laughs with you, as delusional as it comes off, it sounds real. 

“It’s no pressure. You’re the first person I wanted to ask.” he says.

Your eyes widen at his words. The first person he wanted to ask was you? Out of everyone he knows? And he knows Barbra Gordon and Kori Anders and Donna Troy. And Artemis Crock. 

You voice cracks a bit and you have to clear your throat to speak again.

“Don’t people plan these things months in advance?” you ask.

Dick laughs again, “Yes that’s true. And I’m only giving you one month’s notice but I think you can pull off anything.” 

You can’t help the big smile that grows on your face. He’s infectious. He’s kind. And most of all he flirts the best when he isn’t trying. You switch the phone from your left to your right ear.

“I mean I think I can make it work.“ you start.

“Good! I can get you a fitting next week, anytime you want.” he cuts you off.

“A fitting like for a custom made outfit? Oh Dick I can’t afford that.” You put sadly.

“Nonsense it’s on me since I’m inconveniencing you by asking you to come to the Grammys with me.” he jokes.

You try to stop the laugh that tumbles out of your mouth but you can’t. And you know on the other end Dick is happy he got a laugh out of you.

“I don’t think being anywhere with you is an inconvenience.” you say.

You hear him laugh on the end of the line. It makes you smile.

“Okay, I’m gonna end this call before I say something too cheesy.” he says.

“Yeah save it for when I’m trying on clothes and you have to vote on then.” 

#dc x reader #dc fic #dc x you #dc imagine #dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson x you #dick Grayson imagine #dick Grayson fic #famous dc! au (dick's version)

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

The thing is, it really isn't about whether Evan is ok with it or not, it's about a person's morals. People pleaser or not, where do you draw the line? If I knew my friend was abusing little puppies I would certainly stop being friends with them (If i am not coerced into tolerating it). Emma might not have abused little puppies, she *only* abused her signifact other for 5-7 years and If that's something you can look past at because it was a long time ago or it isn't worth breaking a friendship over because it's inconvenient for you, then you have highly questionable morals. Especially when that signifacnt other is one of your friends. Same goes for Sarah. Be a people pleaser all you want. But publically supporting a notorious abuser is still a choice. And If I were Evan I would ditch every single one of those hypocrites and read books on self love and trauma so I stop being a magnet to these weirdos

let's be honest, she's a nepobaby, she's influential in the business because of her family. just like you said, it's not convenient to them to not be in good terms with her. that's how hollywood works, its competitive and you have to anything to keep up with it

(gonna change the subject a little bit): that might even be one of the reason why evan didn't press charges (completely speculating rn) He was probably instructed not to do it. if we take a look at the news around that time he was always referred as "emma roberts' boyfriend". he was a nobody compared to her, if he ever did something his career would be over, not hers. we can see that even now in angelica's situation: she only opened up about it because she was gonna leave the business and emma is still being worshiped and has her image almost intact.

(back to the topic): we don't know how their relationship is with emma nor evan. in the past, evan and sarah talked a lot about each other but we haven't seen that. also, we know what THEY want us to know, maybe they weren't even really that close. we don't know what happens backstage. i do feel weird about jeff being friends with both because he looks very close to evan but im trying to keep in mind that i know nothing about his relationship with any of these people.

there's even the hypothesis that evan and emma are in good terms (which o highly doubt). what i'm trying to say is that we have no idea what happens in their lives

well..

that's not the reason why evan didn't press charges, this man who has never given a rat's ass about celebrity was not infatuated with being mr. emma roberts - let's make that clear. he didn't press charges because he loved emma and ultimately wanted to marry her, but he was a victim of abuse. also, evan wasn't a nobody when he was dating emma.. i'm not sure how old you are, but if you were of age to be aware in 2012 when they started dating, you'd be well aware that this was peak AHS fame and when fans stopped them on the street together, 9/10 times they did not care about emma; all the girlies wanted evan and he was a heartthrob by all standards. and let's just be real: what image would emma roberts be keeping intact? there is no one, and i mean no one, who is a fan of hers who is ACTUALLY oblivious to her nature. she is not a big, successful actress whose name conjures up images of a respected professional who has lead major productions. she is a nepo baby meme who stars in romcoms no one watches.. even her stans.

"we don't know how their relationship is with emma nor evan." do you mean sarah and jeff? because if so, just last year sarah was going to be doing one of those netflix career retrospect things with evan, interviewing him. and jeff was just seen with evan a few months back. i know at least for a time, jeff was an actual friend evan hung out with pretty regularly.. sarah not so much. i think she is more ''respected colleague'' than personal friend. for me personally, the bottomline is that my feelings and opinions are not based on whether or not i think deep inside evan is hurt his friends are also still friends with emma.. because i don't believe he is bothered. i don't think he ever was. nothing about his personality nor the way he talks about himself is indicative of someone who would force his friends to side with him, even when he should NEVER have to be in the situation to do so.. this wasn't a regular situation where exes were left bitter. evan was abused, emma is a domestic abuser. i don't need to know how anyone in this situation feels about each other to know that there is no scenario in which i think it's acceptable to try and sit on the fence and be friends with both a domestic abuser AND their victim. what kind of friend are you if you see no major problem with someone assaulting them?

[glcssylies]

kim taehyung.     he / him.     cis male.      ›spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   elliot   kang   ,   most   likely   listening   to   double   take   by   dhruv   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty-five   year   old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -reckless   yet   +loyal   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you’ll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   goodnight   texts   after   one-night   stands   ,   brushing   concerns   off   with   laughter   ,   and   looking   to   the   sky   for   answers   followed   by   toasted   vanilla   and   honey.   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   him   drunkenly   confessing   to   being   the   family’s   illegitimate   child   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   . 

tw - drinking, substance abuse, cheating, pregnancy, depression

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄

name: elliot kang gender: cisgender male birthday: september 23, 1997 ethnicity: korean age: 25 sexuality: bisexual ( alluded to the fact, but hasn’t confirmed to public ) occupation: actor birthplace: manhattan, nyc current residence: manhattan, nyc family: hyunjin kang ( father ) , aeri kang ( mother ) , hana choi ( biological mother ) pets: n / a

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

a lot of this is actually his parent’s backstory but is essential for his so pls understand !

born in manhattan a second-gen korean american to two parents  ( kind of ... you’ll see HAHA ) who’s families already were mid-upper class, but worked their asses off to make a bigger name for themselves. high school sweethearts, they met at a performing arts academy, both having a shared love for theatre that brought them closer together.

though they both were equally devoted to their craft, it seemed his dad just had a natural aptitude for acting ?? and met much more success. by the time they graduate his father’s managed to get into juliard, while his mother unfortunately received a rejection letter.

this crushed her, and while she originally went to another college for theatre, her constant failures made her eventually redirect and become an entertainment lawyer. his father, on the other hand, seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.

still in love, however, his parents decided to marry before they both even graduated. they were both family people & wanted to start a family. however, they couldn’t seem to get pregnant no matter how hard they tried.

fast forward to when the two are 25. his father has established himself as a 90′s / 00′s heartthrob ( think johnny depp / leonardo vibes ) and while his mother is successful within her career, she felt a lot of resentment for how she hadn’t been able to live out her dream the same way his husband is. plus, he’s geting a lot of attention from the media as an attracitve figure, which understandably bothered her.

his father ended up liking the attention a litle too much, bc the same year elliot’s mom walks in on her husband sleeping w the maid. it crushes her, and there’s a huge flip out that nearly ends them. but the one thing his mom wanted more than love, was a family. so she makes an ultimatum - she won’t leave if they are able to assume responsibility for the child, and the maid has no part in the child’s life.

and ... boom ! it only took me an entire essay LMFAO but ... that was how elliot came to be. none of this info was revealed to him, of course, as he was raised the proud token child of one of hollywood’s most beloved actors. 

despite his father’s charisma within his job, he was incredibly tough on elliot growing up. he always thought it was just bc he had high expectations for him, but the truth is he hadn’t wanted a kid at the height of his fame but felt it was forced on him.

his mother, while a lot more affectionate, always had a slight ... detatchment if she looked at him too close ? almost like she didn’t want to see him fully, which he always found super weird, but ... well u know why that was.

his entire childhood he was easily sprung into child roles, and smoothly transitioned into older roles in netflix-esque series. he’d been coached to socialize and act easily since he was a kid, but because it came so easy to him he never felt that same spark to act as his parents did, he just felt like he kind of ... had to.

it was only in recent years that he began to love his craft, as he’s started to make his own decisions on what he stars in. he’s been a lot more into psychological thrillers / horror recently, as he’s started to hate feeling like nepotism has such a big play in his career ? so has been trying to branch out as far from the “family brand” as possibl.

recently something v messy happened. he’s always been super close to the family’s long term maid / nanny ( oop ) who cared for him whenever his parent’s left, and she treated him w more affection than anyone else. one day he found pictures in her room of her pregnant , love letters from her father , and little baby clothes which to say the least ... made him VERY suspicious.

after heavily drinking he confronted his father about it but - yikes he was on ig live ?? so everyone saw him have an emotional breakdown about potentially not being the legitimate child of the family and .... to say the least it’s been a messy time for him.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

surprisingly ... kind of quiet. he obviously knows how to put the charm on for cameras / feed into his “ public persona ” , but elliot’s true nature is on the quieter side with those he doesn’t know too well ? he just feels like there's not always have to be something to be said.

feels like he does a bad job at being him OIIIOOJIO. he feels when it comes to his career, he lacks the “go-getter”, cutthroat attitude his father does when it comes to competing w others in the industry. however, because he was treated so coldly as a child most times, he fears he can’t be vulnerable and kind enough in personal relationships even though he seriously wants to be. he can’t catch a break lmfao !!

but he is a little too hard on himself - genuinely, elliot is trying. at times, his priviledge can show, or he can be quick to anger like his dad. but he can own up to his mistakes and is doing everything in his power not to end up like his dad.

can be reckless & self-destructive - he is a deep feeler so when he feels, he acts. quick to turn to substances or a warm body for comfort without thinking too deeply of the consequences, as he often values short-term rewards more than the long-term.

even though he’s known for being well-spoken and sort of a sweet / relatable vibe ( sort of like a tom holland ? ), his recent scandal & reckless behaviors have tainted his name in the media a bit compared to what he’s used to.

hopeless romantic, though he isn’t quick to admit it. he so badly wants to just enjoy single life as an attractive celebrity in his prime , but ... he just can’t. he desires long-term relationships, family, commitment, everything he doesn’t think he’s made out for. he doesn’t want to repeat his family’s mistakes but so badly wants a happy life of his own.

slooowly realizing just how good he has it. the older he gets and the more people he interacts with, he realizes maybe it wasn’t his talent that got him as far as he is. .he’s starting to resent his parents for using money / influence to ensure his success as a kid, and is trying to make up for it by working to get roles by his own right.

... but then again he’s already made a name for himself, and he can’t exactly say that people still won’t be looking to the kang name when considering him for a role.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

exes. exes exes exes plsplspls LMAO. he’s just such an emotional lover that i don’t doubt a breakup w him would involve a lot of off / on, drunk calls at 3am, “i still love you” convos, all that. so if u like messy ex plots ?? yuuup he’s the one LMAO.

co !! stars !! he’s been in a lot of romantic but more recently horror / psych thriller movies  so if your muse is an actor i would love some people he works with ! even better if there’s some sort of drama / tension on set ??

on that same note i’m unsure if there’s makeup artists / directors / general workers here but ?? there could also be actor x employee drama !

fwb that he’s lowkey caught feelings for. it’s so likely there’s no doubt in my mind he’d accidentally fuck around and fall in love LMAO !

childhood friends ? could be fellow nepo babies or not, he’s an only child and wasn’t around a ton of kids growing up so i could see this being a sibling -like connection !

in this same vibe , maybe an old friend who sees how he's slowly grown more chaotic / reactive over the last few years and kind of call him out on it ! that " i miss the old you " kind of thing HAHA

pr relationship ?? cliche i know but i’ll eat it up everytime. especially after his messiness as of late, he needs something to distract the headlines !

friends with super good chemistry everyone thinks are dating but rlly ?? they just get along super well and like baiting the media, claim their each other’s ideal types just to stir the pot on twitter HAHA

bad influence ?? elliot's got reckless tendencies on his own but tries hard to conceal them to save face. but maybe someone who's completely spontaneous tries to convince him to go completely off the deep end nd act out ???

so many more potentially pls come to me we can brainstorm ! i’m v chill but also love drama between muses so i’ll take it all &lt;33

#nepofm.intro