#is michael sheen gonna come to my house and stab me for not liking this season lmao

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Staged 3 thoughts! (This is gonna be much shorter than my last two because I really Didn’t like this season)

I talked about codependence in my previous post and how that would have been a more interesting angle to take Staged 3, and the finale proves this.

Staged was always "meta," but season 3 took any truth within the meta and warped it to the point where it was a farce-- without the comedy. I pretty much summarized exactly how I felt in my last post, but what's so frustrating about the final episode is that it does exactly what the third season should have been doing the entire time!

The dialogue is clever, the meta is poignant without being too self aggrandizing (except for the post credit sequence, which just annoys me to no end and takes the teeth out of the breakup,) and overall the culmination of the rest of the third season's events and tension comes together.

The last episode goes into improv theory and acting, which is something the first two seasons did quite well, and something that was sorely missing throughout this series. The usage of family members (Simon's sister and Michael Sheen's actual daughter) is a nice change of pace from celebrity cameos, at least for the last crescendo of everything falling apart.

I don't think the ending would have been as effective if David and Michael hadn't put their all into it. The script is better than the rest of the episodes (save the second episode, which I quite liked,) but you can feel the actual sadness about being separated.

This is where the meta works: Imagine your friend is sick of you. Imagine you don't want anything to change but it always does. Imagine that you're torn apart again. This is the only time codependence is referenced to seriously, and it's a shame because it would have given the last scene more of an impact.

I don't think Staged 3 is completely without value, but it's really only good when David Tennant and Michael Sheen are on screen having a good time acting together, and that's hard to do when the script is so blah and beige.

@get-me-off-this-site @tricksyliesmith @ingravinoveritas since y'all asked ✨

#anyways glad it's over? #i'll prob rewatch 1 and 2 at some point but now i'm full ofmd baybeeeee #staged bbc #bbc staged #staged 2 #staged 3 #david tennant #michael sheen #simon evans #is michael sheen gonna come to my house and stab me for not liking this season lmao #georgia tennant #good omens #<- my prev post n point about codependence etc. #georgia is adorable though she tried her hardest despite getting the lamest villain arc of all time #if the whole thing was just the fake bts interviews where you could tell they broke character it'd be perf

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

KEEPING UP WITH THE ARIZAS

Michael “Riz” Ariza x Reader

Chapter 6: “The first date: first attempt”

Word Count: 2.3k

Author comments: Warning of some angst, and I'm not even sorry. This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, more or less 'cause I cut it to keep Antonio's part, but credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @leaalfred ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“I can't believe you're gonna actually do'et”.

Your father appeared from nowhere, resting a shoulder on the door frame, cross-armed. He looked at you from top to bottom, rolling his eyes with a snort, while you put your makeup on point with a red lipstick. The rest was somewhat light, but you needed to highlight your lips, one of your best attributes.

“Do what, dad?”

“Trying to ask Riz out”.

“Why?” You inquired turning at him, with both hands supported on the edge of the sink, twisting your neck some inches to the right.

“'Cause he's my friend, my brother”.

“Then, I just have to kill you. Which is a good idea 'cause he could feel guilty for god knows why, so he would want to take care of me. Maybe live together at the ran—”.

“He's older than you. And not even his type”.

“The encouragement you give me… Wao, papá!”

“I'm trying to protect you”.

“Well, thank you. I don't need it, okay? I've been preparing myself since I have fifteen. And… shouldn' you let me commit my own mistakes?”

“Good. I don' wanna hear you cry after him laughing at this… bullshit”.

Those last words felt like a knife stabbing your chest. Almost five years working on it. Trying to be his friend, losing your ass even when he was simply breathing close to you, taking interest in whatever he could be doing (...). It wasn't only a physical attraction. You really found him very intelligent, funny, hard-working and loyal. And it could sounds bad, but sometimes you wished to be one of Vicki's girl, because of the much care he had with them. Almost five years working on it, arming yourself of courage, just to see how it burned among the flames of your insecurities at the end.

You raised your eyes subtly outlined, looking your reflection in the mirror. One minute ago, you were feeling stunning, amazing, out of this world, even sexy wearing a tight black dress over your knees and a heart shaped neckline. It was the first time you were dressing like that, trying to surprise him, being used to see you on your ‘rider outfit’ which is a cool one too. Now you felt ridiculous, with some painful lashes running under your chest, snorting because you knew your father was right. Taking off the makeup from your face with a wipe, your father put his head out the door.

“Are you re—? What are you doing? For god's sake, (Y/N), when I get to the party, there will be no beer! Those fucking prospects drinks more than the fuckin' Charlie Sheen on his day off”.

“I forgot I have an exam next week, leave to the clubhouse”. You just said, cleaning the red color covering your pinky lips.

“Mi amor, listen…” He raised a hand close to you, being stopped before he could touch you.

“Dad, just fuckin' leave! Okay? I'm fucking fine”. Interrupting him, you threw the wipe inside the sink with a sudden move. “I fuckin' get it. Your brother. Older than me. With interest in women, not in… in… I don' even know what the fuck I am”.

“Cariño...”

“A fuckin' clown, dad. That's what I am. A. Fucking. Clown”. You pointed out every word on air with your left forefinger.

“You don' need to be this rude”.

“Well, fuck you for breaking my fuckin' heart, instead of telling me ‘go, do it and if he doesn't want you, I'll hold you’. That's what a normal father would say to his daughter”.

“I didn' mean to hurt you”.

“But you did”. Turning at your father to face him, you took off the black dress raising it on air hanging it in your fingers. “I had to work at Bernardino's one month to afford it, and all the makeup you see here. From dusk till dawn, surrounded by creepy drunk old men”.

“I could have paid it for you”. He said then, with a guilty tone of voice because of everything.

“But, that's not the point, dad! I was trying to show Riz I can also earn my own jack”. You leaned towards the toilet where you left your huge Mayan's black shirt to wear it. “Go to the party, get drunk with your brothers, fuck some chick and have fun”.

Your father toured his incisors with the tip of his tongue, nodding in silence. After clean the mess in the bathroom and keep all your stuff there, you just lay down in bed hugging one of your big pillows. You were waiting for that weekend for five long days away at the university, as every week since you move out of Santo Padre to San Diego.

You didn't know you had keep it. You totally forgot it and finding it brings you bittersweet memories of that night and what happened the days after. Giving a spin over the black high-heels, putting well the tight dress on, you have a look in the mirror. Still fitting like a glove to your anatomy. And you're incredibly stunning in it. You like it, you have always liked. But you don't feel like you can use it. It's like if it is going to bring some bad luck to your relationship.

“Shit, you look like a cheap bitch, baby”.

You were so self-absorbed, that you haven't realized Riz was resting his back on the door frame.

“Yeah, I'm gonna ask Vicki to be one of her girls, 'cause you can't even find your small cocky”.

Teasing each other all the time it's a current mood. And you love it. Turning at him and focus all your attention in your husband, your eyes notice the way he tied his hair in a small black bun with some bristles falling by his temples. No matter how many years can pass away, he will run you out of air with the most minimal detail.

“Are we celebrating something?” Riz lifts up an eyebrow, licking his lips. Not being nervous, but excited about the idea. “I know every special date and today isn't one of them”.

“It's just a dress, Michael”.

“Really? I was about to ask you to marry me again”. He chuckles crossing both arms on his chest covered by leather.

“I bought it seven years ago, for a… date I should have had, and that never happened”.

Riz's jaw get tense from zero to one hundred, just in a second. His gesture turns into somewhat more confused, when he notices the sadness and the pain in your voice. You never told him about that night, but maybe could be a good moment to do it. Your eyes come back to your own reflect in the mirror, before taking off the shoes, heel against heel losing almost seven inches of high.

“One month working in a… bikers' pub, enduring bullshit, to buy it. But I stayed at home”.

Riz isn't sure if he wants to know how a guy broke your heart, but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know why you kept that dress, seeming it like the dead body of a bad memory. And you're talking about something that happened seven years ago. Before being together, so he's starting to make his own Netflix movie in his head.

“I was i—”.

“I don' wanna fuckin' hear it”. He just raises a hand slightly, shaking his head.

“Why?”

“I don' give a fuck about what you did seven years ago”.

His hardened voice gives you some chills around your back, knowing he's really angry because of what he's imagining. Something too far from reality.

“Take that fuckin' dress off”.

And that is the best confirmation to know the grade of his annoyance.

“Riz, I wanna tell you something”.

“Fuck, no! You have told me a million times that I was your first love. Your only one. But something happened seven years ago that broke your fuckin' heart and fucked you down, and you keep that… clothe you were gonna use with him. How the fuck should I feel, ah? So you lied to me and… what? I was the second choice?”

“You should be a film director”.

“Good, thank you for first hurting me and then fucking laughing in my face”.

“Could you plea—?”

“FUCK, NO, (Y/N)! I'm fucking disappointed right now!”.

For a second you could swear that your husband is about to cry, with his eyes getting reddened. You can feel the tension in his body, seeing how furious his chest grabs and expels the air.

“It was my father”. You say then, before giving him the opportunity to leave the room. “My father broke my heart, actually. Even if the date wasn't with him. It was me who didn't go”.

Now, he's a little more confused, turning at you after giving you his back some seconds ago.

“Actually, me and… the ‘other guy’... we never talked about having a date. I just… wanted to force it. I mean, he was my friend. The point was come to the clubhouse and maybe earn some time together, alone”.

Yes, you're making him suffer a little, but he never was clear with you. So it's a kind of payback. And you know exactly what he is thinking. Clubhouse, Mayan, friend, seven years ago: Angel. He has been your best friend since ever.

“I can't fuckin' believe you…” He whispers letting his head falling down, until his chest meets his chin, laughing between teeth bitterly.

“But my father told me that he would never notice me, as I wanted, as I wished it. Do you wanna know why?”

“Fuck, no. And fuck you, (Y/N)”.

You have to do a big effort to not break in laughter, walking closer towards him.

“Because he was his brother. He was loyal. And a little bit older than me. Apparently I wasn't his type either”.

“I'm fuckin' done with this… bullshit, (Y/N)”. He says then whilst moving his hands about to lose his mind, walking away from the main room, looking for his helmet to leave the house.

You don't move a single inch of your body, waiting just one second before raising your voice.

“But he finally noticed me, 'cause I broke a bitch's nose who was talking shit about him!”

Silence. You can't hear his heavy boots touring your home. Riz is standing next to the principal door, and you don't need to be looking at him to know it.

“That night when Coco was full patched! I was ready to go and ask him out!” You add dancing your hips from the left to the right slightly, waiting patiently for Riz to coming back. “I was mentalizing myself for almost five years to do'et! But I thought my father was right! And I decided not to do it 'cause… I was more scared of losing that friendship, than him breaking my heart”.

Even if that last sentence is recited something low, you're sure he has heard it, with his steps walking through the hallway right to the room.

“But… well, I finally got my date, but I didn't use that dress just in case it brought me bad luck. I was too in love, to ruin it for a superstition. And I kept it in a bag”.

Riz appears again with pursed lips and his dark eyes on his feet. A little ashamed because of his words, but still being mad because of you making him believe something it wasn't true just to tease him.

“And…” Taking some steps close to the Mayan, you grab the helmet to leave it above a chair, placing his hands on your waist after that. “I made him the love of my life, my best friend, my confidant, the prize of my good karma, my soulmate…”

“All that?”

“Nope, I made him a lot of things more. But those are the most important”. Traveling your hands to his shoulders and lifting up yourself on your tiptoes, you kiss your husband with all the love you feel inside your chest. Slowly, enjoying it.

Sometimes you forget how lucky you are of having Riz by your side, and sometimes he does it too, but you know you own the whole world being together. He's the most kind man of all. The most loving, pleasing and empathic husband you could ask for. Always working hard to make you smile, to make you feel like a goddess, to make you feel proud of what you two have. Michael lives for you, and you live for him.

Deepening the kiss a little more by straining his tongue between your lips, his fingers go up to your cheeks caressing them and pushing you closer to him, with his scent intensifying and flooding your lungs. His mouth molding perfectly to yours, as always, so slow that steal you a soft gasp tangling your hands on his wrists.

“I have never felt love for anyone it's not you, mi rey”. You say almost in a whisper, when you pull away yourself a second to take some air, touching his nose with yours. “And marry you for a second time sounds so good…”

“Change your clothes, mi amor”. Riz soughs, eyes closed, with a silky loud tone bristling your skin. “We're leaving”.

“To Las Vegas?” You sound excited as a five years old about to go to DisneyWorld for the first time, even if you're already married.

“You wanna marry me again?”

“I wanna marry you every day of my life, Riz”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #michael riz ariza x reader #riz ariza x reader #riz ariza #michael riz ariza #keeping up with the arizas