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denimbex1986 · 3 months

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'When Andrew Haigh was shooting his new film, All of Us Strangers, in his parents’ old house in Croydon, something strange began to happen. “I started getting eczema again, and I’d not had eczema since I was a kid,” says the director, who is now 50. “It was coming up in the exact same places. I thought, ‘What the fuck is happening to me?’ I feel there is a sense that your body remembers trauma. Somehow things get almost embedded in your DNA, and they find ways to leak out.”

In All of Us Strangers, this leakage happens to Adam, a 46-year-old gay man exquisitely played by Andrew Scott. He’s a blocked, depressed screenwriter whose parents died in a car crash when he was 12, and who lives in a mysteriously empty tower block in London. One night after a fire alarm, a younger man called Harry, played by Paul Mescal, drunkenly comes to his door. Although Adam initially rejects him, the pair later embark on the love affair he has always yearned for – and Mescal and Scott are explosively convincing as a couple. “Casting is like running a dating agency,” says Haigh. “I have to be careful to pick the people who will be good together.” When Adam decides to return to the house he grew up in, he discovers that his mum and dad – played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy – are still living there, the same age they were when they died, in a perpetual 1987.

The film – which won best film and best director at the British Independent Film awards in December – somehow blends a love story, a ghost story, and a time-flipped coming-of-age narrative. The result is a masterful exploration of loneliness and grief, the relationship between children and their parents, and a demonstration of the fact that time, far from healing, can bring childhood trauma rearing up stronger than ever in middle age. But it’s also a tender, aching expression of the insatiable human need for love and connection, which Haigh depicts as being so powerful that it can annihilate the border between life and death. “All the people in the film are longing for something – to be understood, to be known,” Haigh says.

All of Us Strangers is a “very free” adaptation of a Japanese novel called Strangers by Taichi Yamada (who died last month aged 89), which the film-maker wrote during the pandemic while living in Los Angeles. “There’s a pandemic emotion at the heart of it,” he says. “We all spent a lot of time staring out of the window, didn’t we?�� Sitting in a Soho hotel suite, Haigh – whose previous films include Weekend and 45 Years, and who also made the TV series Looking and The North Water – was keen to make the film “as personal as I could. It’s about someone having a reunion with their own past so it made sense that I had to do the same thing. As I was writing about the home Adam goes back to, I started thinking about my own childhood home, and when we were talking about where to shoot I thought, ‘I’ll just go down and see if it’s still there.’ I couldn’t remember where it was on the street because I left there when I was nine or 10” – when his parents divorced – “but I had the photo that Adam lifts up in the film, with Claire Foy put in instead of my mum.”

Haigh found the house and the owner agreed to let him film there. “It was a strange choice, emotionally, because I knew it wouldn’t be the easiest place to be. But I wanted the film to have a certain honesty and vulnerability, to feel grounded in some kind of reality. The only way was to make it my own reality, as a way to make it specific in the hope that it would speak to all those details of life that end up feeling universal.”

The reality he’s talking about is that of a middle-aged gay man who was a young teenager at the end of the 80s, when the Aids crisis unleashed a wave of savage homophobia (a survey in 1987 discovered that 75% of the UK thought homosexuality was “always” or “mostly” wrong). “I wanted it to be very specific about a certain generation of gay person, which was our generation,” Haigh says when I tell him I’m also gay, and a year younger than him. “It wasn’t an easy time. Growing up, I felt, ‘If I’m going to become a gay person I’m not going to have a future, and the only other alternative is not to be gay’ – which of course you can’t not be. So I wanted to tell that story.”

All of Us Strangers depicts someone struggling with the lasting effects of a childhood disfigured not only by bereavement, but also by prejudice and hatred. “There’s a generation of queer people grieving for the childhood they never had,” Haigh says. “I think there’s a sense of nostalgia for something we never got, because we were so tormented. It feels close to grief. It dissipates, but it’s always there. It’s like a knot in your stomach.”

Much of All of Us Strangers’ emotional power comes from the brutally repressed Adam attempting to dispel his feelings of shame and isolation in order to be seen and loved for the person he truly is. To this end, he takes the opportunity, denied to him by their death, to come out to his mum and dad, separately. His mum is shocked – “Isn’t it a very lonely life?” – and worried about Aids. His dad, not unkindly, says: “We always knew you were a bit tutti-frutti.” Says Haigh: “The coming-out scenes are about the importance of being known. It’s very hard to move through life if you feel you’re not understood. And if you’re not understood, you feel you’re alone.”

Adam asks his father why he would never come into his room to comfort him when he was crying after being bullied at school – something else Haigh suffered. “I was about nine, and the kids around me knew something was different about me before I really did,” he says. “So you’re like, ‘I don’t understand why you’re calling me these names.’ But they could feel it somehow. When my mum saw the film, she was like, ‘Is this what happened to you?’ And I was like, ‘Yes.’ If you’re a queer kid, you don’t want to tell your parents you’re being bullied, because they’re going to think you’re different, and that’s the last thing you want. It’s the hardest thing, sometimes, about being queer within a family – you’re not like your parents and you have a secret.”

Haigh came out to his parents in his mid-20s. His father now has dementia, and went into a care home during the making of All of Us Strangers. Visiting him one weekend, the film-maker discovered his dad no longer remembered his son was gay. “He was like, ‘Are you married? Have you got a wife?’ I’ve been out to my dad for a very long time and he’s been beautifully accepting, and it had completely gone from his mind. I found myself suddenly having the same fear I had when I was in my 20s, of having to come out to him again. And I realised I couldn’t do it because I didn’t want to upset him. But in the end he was quiet for a while and then he said, ‘Well, as long as you have found love.’ It felt like such a beautiful thing for my dad to say. He just understood what was the important thing, and in so many ways it spoke so much to what the film is about. And then I had to come down again and shoot that scene with Jamie and Andrew in my old lounge, so it was emotionally complicated.”

The film also draws on Haigh’s relationship with his own children, who are 10 and 12. “They don’t live with me full-time, but when I’m with them and I’m their parent, I’m always worried. Am I doing the right thing? Am I saying the right thing? Am I helping them? As I’ve got older I’ve realised you don’t need a parent to give advice, necessarily. You don’t need them to solve things because sometimes you can only solve it yourself.”

Beyond fulfilling the needs of a child, there is something about being a queer parent that makes one wonder how you and your children will fit into broader society. “It’s like, ‘Are we different?” Haigh asks. “Do we have a new way of being? Do we have a different way that our families can exist, because we don’t have a model? I know a lot of queer people who have kids and they’re all trying to navigate that. Are we trying to be like our parents were to us, or are we trying to be something else?”

All of Us Strangers is particularly acute in its use of 80s hits such as The Power of Love by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Johnny Come Home by Fine Young Cannibals and Build by the Housemartins, all of which Adam listens to while mulling over his childhood, and which then becomes part of the supernatural world he visits (he and his parents joyfully put up festive decorations to Pet Shop Boys’ Always on my Mind, Christmas No 1 in 1987). To young gay boys denied role models – especially when section 28 made it illegal for schools and local authorities to offer positive representations of homosexuality – and who were too terrified to disclose our queerness to our dads, gay pop stars like Neil Tennant and Holly Johnson, and also gentle straight frontmen such as Roland Gift and Paul Heaton, were the only people who seemed to point the way to how we might be able to live as grown men.

“Paul Heaton and Roland Gift aren’t queer artists, but they so spoke to me,” Haigh agrees. “I’m sure my political viewpoints are based on listening to the Housemartins” – who were avowedly socialist at the time of the Thatcher government. “Pop music was so important – it gave me hope as a kid. I used to sing The Power of Love to myself in my bedroom, not really understanding anything about myself at that point, but knowing that it was longing for something, and believing that something could be possible. When I put this song in the film, I was thinking that my childhood self would have been so amazed that I’m doing what I’m doing now – able to tell a story about queerness for other people to see, and not be terrified.”

“I never dreamed that I would get to be / The creature that I always meant to be,” as Pet Shop Boys put it in Being Boring? “Don’t!” Haigh says, who is a diehard fan. “I can’t even listen to that line – it makes me want to burst into tears.”

As he comes out to her, Adam explains to his mother that things are much better for gay people now, and his relationship with Harry, a northerner in his 20s, allows Haigh to explore the personal effects of those changes – and whether they have really gone as far as one might think. For instance, Harry identifies as queer, and when Adam says he uses the term gay, Harry tells him the word was a ubiquitous insult when he was at school: “Your haircut’s gay. Your schoolbag’s gay.” Harry says his family are relaxed about his sexuality, but their focus is on his heterosexual siblings and their children, not the tache-wearing, whisky-swigging black sheep of the family.

Is Haigh saying that to be gay is to be alienated? “I don’t think so,” he says. “I know a lot of young gay people who do not feel alienation. I imagine some of them will watch this film and be like, ‘Why are they all complaining? There’s nothing to moan about, life is absolutely fine.’ But I also know people close to me, younger than me, who’ve found it very difficult. So I don’t want to pretend that everything is all great either. But also, it’s important to me that both characters are not lonely because they’re gay – they are lonely because the world has made them feel different. Harry has moved to London, which can be a very alienating place. There are lots of reasons why you can slip gently into aloneness and if you cannot find something to get you out of that, you can stop caring about yourself, which is Harry’s problem.”

Like Weekend, All of Us Strangers is frank about drug use. In a moment of gay inter-generational misunderstanding, Harry gives Adam white powder on a key, which Adam lustily sniffs thinking it’s cocaine – but it’s ketamine. “To pretend that drug use isn’t part of the gay scene is just an absolute lie,” Haigh says. “I think I’ve always tried not to glorify drug-taking, but to be honest – drugs can feel wonderful and also make you feel paranoid and afraid and alone. You can slip away, you can lose your grounding. I’m certainly not saying that everyone should go out and take drugs!”

As its narcotic, dreamlike feel sets in, All of Us Strangers increasingly wrongfoots the audience. “I saw the film as a spiral, and it kept getting woozier and stranger,” Haigh says. Adam starts to get feverish, which is unexplained in the film, though Haigh points out that it happens after his mother mentions Aids. “I think all of us gay men of that generation know that every time we had a bit of a sweat if we were having sex with other people, we were suddenly terrified that we were going to have HIV,” Haigh says. “A swollen gland was not just a swollen gland. I wanted to have that trickling under the surface, that Aids is another fear that Adam has buried. I’m telling a ghost story – what are the things that haunt him?”

The film’s more surreal moments include a trippy, time-warping scene set to Blur’s Death of a Party and filmed at gay pub the Royal Vauxhall Tavern in London, where Haigh used to go to the club night Duckie; and a setpiece in which the adult Adam, wearing his childhood pyjamas, gets in bed between his parents. “However old you are, you feel like a kid,” Haigh believes. “You can’t escape that feeling of wanting to be with your parents again and have them look after you. I loved the idea that these pyjamas didn’t fit, because we want to go back to our childhood, but of course it doesn’t fit.”

Towards the end of the film, Adam’s parents take him to a deserted diner in the Whitgift shopping centre in Croydon, Haigh’s childhood haunt (“at Fairfield Hall next door I saw Bucks Fizz, which was the first concert I went to, which may be the gayest thing anybody’s ever done”). In this tacky, mundane setting, something painfully bittersweet occurs. Then there’s the film’s conclusion, which can either be read as romantic and hopeful, or a vision of overwhelming sadness. “More than anything, I wanted you to leave the cinema and have the film continue on within you,” Haigh says. “45 Years was the same, and even Weekend.”

This month, the LA Times named All of Us Strangers as the best film of 2023; at the New York film festival, the critic Mark Harris said the cinema was awash. The consensus so far appears to be not only that it is a masterpiece, but a profoundly moving one. Haigh is relieved: “When you make something personal, you’re putting it out into the world, and if the world turns round and says, ‘I don’t like that and I don’t care about it’, you can’t help but think, ‘OK, you basically don’t care about me.’”

Although the film has a particular, queer point of view, he believes its universal themes make it accessible to everyone. “All of us are children, a lot of us are parents, a lot of us are in a relationship or not finding love. Look, I want 15-year-olds to see this movie, not just people our age. If I had seen this film when I was 15, it would probably have made a big difference to me.”'

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pennyserenade · 1 year

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seeing those photos of pedro doing theater got me thinking about dieter bravo, because i am under the belief he is a theater lover and that he does movies to be able to contribute more to that scene. he is not only interested in broadway productions, but also local playhouses and little college theater groups and things like that. dieter bravo lives two lives: one in california, where he gets along well when he was the right type of people to work with, and then his life in new york, where he spends a lot of his time doing his own plays and finding plays to invest his money in. everyone has an idea that he is a little stupid and they are right in way but he is very savvy when it comes to theater and plays. he is the henry fonda of his generation

#misc.#he comes to hollywood to make either something with a message or the stupidest damn film you've ever seen in your life #and then he goes back to new york and lives like an actor in every sense of the word #new york tends to be healthier for him bc he has little time to occupy himself with unhealthy vices

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scorpius-rising · 1 year

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I think the most fascinating thing about the US being a shit place to live is the fact that from all the indicators it shouldn't be. Like yes, there are far worse places to live for many people. But the US is the world's largest economy. Its hegemonic media and celebrities dominate the global culture. Its business exploits the labour and resources of billions of people and its military is the most dominant on the planet. By all rights it should be a pretty good place to live and instead it's just...bad.

#sorry to all my American friends but your nation's contradictions are mind boggling #Like... LA. is the centre of the global film and television industry and it's almost completely unremarkable #not even interesting just a flat city that goes on and on #like when I think of New York i can conceive of the city's geography #its different areas and how they relate to each other #but LA is just... Venice Beach Walk of fame Hollywood Sign Griffith Park Observatory and the ugly concrete river #and i have no idea where they are in relation to each other or what it's like to live there

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msclaritea · 4 months

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‘The 1619 Project’ Earns Emmys For Oprah, Nikole Hannah-Jones And More – Deadline

"1619 Project, which has been praised for reframing our understanding of American history but attacked by conservatives who brand it as “woke-ism,” won the Outstanding Documentary or Nonfiction Series Emmy on Sunday at the Creative Arts ceremony.

Executive producers Oprah Winfrey, Roger Ross Williams, Shoshanna Guy, the New York Times’ Kathleen Lingo and Nikole Hannah-Jones are among those who earned trophies for their work on the six-part Hulu series. Hannah-Jones, who hosts the series, created the original 1619 Project for the Times to mark the 400-year anniversary of the first arrival of African captives on the shores of what would become the United States. The Pulitzer Prize-winning project aimed to place “the consequences of slavery and the contributions of Black Americans at the very center of the United States’ national narrative,” according to the newspaper..."

No one has to be told twice that Oprah Winfrey is an untrustworthy person. The fact that she helped produced the 1619 Project just confirms, for me, that that tripe was a deliberate piece of sabotage. Just as you don't wave a red flag in a bull's face, you don't suddenly get very loud about things like Transgender and rights for Drag Queens, in the middle of rising fascism and you DON'T suddenly come out with what some critics later called, badly written, and ultimately useless piece like 1619, unless you really want to piss off conservatives. Americans have been having to fight just to keep our school libraries. It all started with Nicole Hannah-Jones' 1619. What a surprise she got hired at the New York Times, a RIGHT-LEANING RAG. It was another bamboozle.

#Oprah Winfrey #Hollywood Velvet Mafia Lackey #1619 Project #Tool used by the right to attack Libraries and certain education #Nikole Hannah Jones is a backstabbing Socialist #What kind of blavk woman goes to work at a right leaning Israeli owned paper like New York Times?#A BACKSTABBER!

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fans4wga · 10 months

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Strike Support Declining - Here's how you can continue to support the writers

Since the WGA strike started on May 2, the public has shown immense support for the writers—sending food, snacks, drinks, and encouragement from across the world all the way to Los Angeles, New York, and other picketing locations.

But loud and vocal strike support—in the news and in public spaces—is notably declining the longer the strike goes on. So we're bringing you a few ways to show writers, studios, and fellow fans: we're still here, and we still stand with the WGA.

1. Post on Twitter (and other social media sites)

You might think social media noise won't be noticed by the studios, but it CAN encourage individual WGA members—and slowly but surely put pressure on the studios to make a fair deal.

If you follow WGA members such as Adam Conover (Adam Ruins Everything), John Rogers (Leverage, Librarians), Gennifer Hutchison (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul), Javier Grillo-Marxuach (Lost, The Witcher) [and many many more you can find through their following lists], tell them you support them! Hashtag #IStandWithTheWGA #DoTheWriteThing and tell them that you and your fandom are prepared to support them as long as the strike lasts; that they deserve to have their demands met and you're with them all the way. Boost morale however and whenever you can!

Likewise, actively push back against misinformation/disinformation. See a TikTok claiming that all Hollywood writers are filthy rich and we shouldn't vocally support them? Correct it with well-sourced citations from the WGA, published news articles, and stories from those affected (like the time a writer on FX's The Bear attended the an awards show with his bank account balance in the negative, only to then win an award for Best Comedy Series—proving that good writers on award-winning shows still cannot make a living!)

Remember you can always link to Adam Conover's excellent explanation of WGA demands versus studio refusals, tweeted here.

2. Donate or boost fundraisers

You might be surprised to learn that the picketing locations are not always parties! Sometimes themed pickets are fun, and fandoms and celebrities occasionally are able to fundraise for a food truck or ice cream truck at picketing locations. However, that is the EXCEPTION and not the norm. Writers are asking for food & drinks at many locations.

There are many funds to donate to, and it can be overwhelming to pick one! But one that could use your support RIGHT NOW is the CBS Radford picket line:

-If you're in LA, you can bring food and snacks directly to that picket line (or get food deliveries sent there, with instructions to be given to the strike captain on duty.) Strike locations are available on the WGA West website and are updated there.

-Or there's a pizza fund for the strike locations (unfortunately Venmo is a US-only donation option)

-If you're not in LA, donate to the Entertainment Community Fund to support TV and film workers affected by the strike.

-More tips on donating to the strike in this great article!

-Lots of fandoms are organizing donations on their own, for instance the Our Flag Means Death fundraiser on Paypal (updated 30 July 2023 with new link) (available internationally). Check to see if your fandom has started a fundraiser... or start one yourself to show your support! We're happy to give tips on organizing your fandom!

As always, please boost this post and any and all well-sourced information that comes from the WGA or its members. We're happy to fact-check anything you send our way too.

#fans4wga #please boost #i stand with the wga #writers guild strike #current events #wga strike #writers strike

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hairmetal666 · 21 days

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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #actors steve harrington and eddie munson #costars #hooking up #fluff #costars to lovers #idiots in love #feelings confession #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #i don't totally know what this is

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madamevirgo · 1 month

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Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?

And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other

Promises

Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing

A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.

“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered.

“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized

“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that.

“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered.

“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.

“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh.

“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile.

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded.

“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.

“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly.

“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile.

“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed

“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in.

———————

I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem.

Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited.

“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face.

“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept.

My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now.

“There you are,” I whispered

“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly

“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.

This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly.

“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.”

“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart.

“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes.

“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt.

“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call.

As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision.

———-

The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming.

Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her.

As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around.

I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant.

“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly.

It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.

“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t.

“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two.

We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer.

It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home.

I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled.

“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands.

“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh.

“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.

“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me.

For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully.

—-------------------------

When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.

She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.

“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.

“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished.

“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath.

“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard.

“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry.

“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us.

“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over.

“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face.

Her laughter made my heart sing.

—-------------

This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance. Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her.

Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started.

I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.

“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked.

“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh.

“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.

“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call.

She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else.

The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue.

“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die.

Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support.

I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause.

I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today.

She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept.

And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other.

—-------------

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one.

“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera.

#madamevirgowrites #dune #dune part two #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x reader

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bluewinnerangel · 11 months

Text

FITF Tour exit songs

- NA LEG - Uncasville: Tina Turner - The Best

Gilford: The Smiths - This Charming Man

Laval: Petula Clark - Downtown

Toronto: Bryan Adams - Summer Of '69

Cuyahoga Falls: The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony

Sterling Heights: Shed Seven - Chasing Rainbows

Cincinnati: The Killers - All These Things That I've Done

Columbus: R.E.M. - The One I Love

Indianapolis: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

Maryland Heights (St. Louis): Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode

Kansas City: Van Morrison - Moondance

Milwaukee: Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now

Chicago: Earth, Wind & Fire - September

Minneapolis: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U

Council Bluffs: Buzzcocks - Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)

Sioux Falls: Don McLean - American Pie

Seattle: The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Vancouver: The Police - King Of Pain

Troutdale: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind

Berkeley: INXS - Never Tear Us Apart

Los Angeles: 2Pac - California Love

Las Vegas: The Killers - Human

Phoenix: Spear Of Destiny - Liberator

Irving: The Doors - Hello, I Love You

Austin: Wheatus - Teenage Dirtbag

Houston The Woodlands: The Police - Walking On The Moon

St. Augustine: The Police - Every Breath You Take

Hollywood: Elton John - Your Song

Tampa: Pat Benatar - Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Atlanta: The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want

Nashville: Duran Duran - Hold Back The Rain

Charlotte: Lou Reed - Perfect Day

Raleigh: Van Morrison - Moondance

Columbia: Commodores - Easy

Boston 1: Boston - More Than A Feeling

Boston 2: Pixies - Here Comes Your Man

Philadelphia: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U

Asbury Park: Bruce Springsteen - Dancing In The Dark

New York: Queen - We Are The Champions (dj elf asked a fan to pick between this one and David Bowie - Heroes)

- EU & UK LEG - Hamburg: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

Copenhagen: Queen & David Bowie - Under Pressure

Oslo: Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends

Stockholm: The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army

Helsinki: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind

Tallinn: Smash Mouth - All Star

Riga: AC/DC - Thunderstruck

Kaunas: Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love

Krakow: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life

Łódź: Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop

Vienna: Oasis - Supersonic

Ljubljana: The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It

Budapest: Bloc Party - Helicopter

Bucharest: Foo Fighters - My Hero

Sofia: Rage Against The Machine - Bombtrack

Bilbao: Pixies - Where Is My Mind

Lisbon: White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground

Madrid: Editors - Munich

Barcelona: At the Drive-In - One Armed Scissor

Turin: Lenny Kravitz - Are You Gonna Go My Way

Bologna: Bloc Party - Helicopter

Luxembourg: Pixies - Where Is My Mind

Antwerp: Queens Of The Stone Age - My God Is The Sun

Paris: Biffy Clyro - Bubbles

Amsterdam: Blur - Song 2

Cologne: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now

Prague: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl

Berlin: The Cure - Friday I'm in Love

Munich: Fatboy Slim - Praise You

Zurich: The Strokes - Last Nite

Dublin: Inhaler - These Are The Days

Sheffield: The Killers - Mr. Brightside

Manchester: The Smiths - This Charming Man

Glasgow: The Snuts - Gloria

Brighton: Ramones - I Wanna Be Sedated

Cardiff: T. Rex - 20th Century Boy

London: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now

Birmingham: Boyz II Men - End Of The Road

- ASIA & AUS LEG - Jakarta: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life

Like last time the plan is to keep editing this post as tour goes on - 2022 LTWT here

Apple music playlist here

#spotify #fitf tour #exit songs #exit song #louis playlist #playlist #i dont have a consistent tag bjt that should hit it

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 5 months

Text

The First Meeting

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader Universe

word count: 4.1 k

warnings: stalking, murder, character asking to die (if I missed something please let me know)

Today was supposed to be an easy day for the BAU. It was a paperwork day, no case, no one dying on their watch.

These were some of Spencer's favourite days, don’t get him wrong he loves being in the field and profiling killers, and when they arrest an unsub, that’s the best feeling.

But having days every now and again where they don’t have to travel and Spencer can read and reflect on their previous case, he greatly enjoys it. And he can’t say he’s the only one, but he can say he’s the only one that uses paperwork days to do paperwork.

Penelope walks in the glass doors humming a tune, foreign to Spencer.

“You got that James Dean day dream, hmm hm mhmmm, I got that red lip classic”

“What’s got you so happy, babygirl?” Derek says, from across Spencer.

“Um, because The Met Gala is tonight! Biggest night in Fashion! And no case means I can watch it.”

“Oh, I must have forgot to put it on my calendar.” Derek, sarcastically remarks while getting up and out of his chair on his way to refill his coffee cup. All the while JJ comes rushing the bullpen, giving the rest of her co-workers a sympathetic face.

“Just when I thought, we would have an easy day.” Emily mumbles getting out her desk chair and walking away with JJ.

“Wally Melman, a music producer in New York, was killed two weeks ago, and Natali Ryan , a singer and songwriter, was killed 4 days ago also in New York.” JJ says while the screen behind her shows pictures of the crime scene.

“The police said they found pictures with the victim's face with ‘You’re Next’ written in red marker across their face. Suspected to have gotten in the mail.”

“And why have they called us now?” Derek says, clearing knowing there was more JJ was going to say but wanting her to get to it quicker.

“Yesturday, another singer/songwriter, by the name of Y/n L/n-”

“Oh. My God!” Penny interrupts JJ, having come in to tell the team an update she had gotten from the NYPD. “uh- sorry, I’m sorry.. Um, the NYPD wants a couple of us to go straight to the crime scene once we land, and that the next vic- uh Y/n L/n I suppose- is at the station waiting.” Penny says, turning and leaving after finishing her sentence.

“Okay everyone, wheels up in 30. JJ can fill us in on the jet.”

When the team arrived in New York, Hotch sent Rossi and Emily to the recent crime scene, and JJ to talk to the media, while himself, Spencer, and Derek went to the station.

When the three got to the station they were shown the note Y/n had gotten from the unsub, different to the others, hers having ‘You Owe Me’ written across her face instead. The team walked into the room they were told Y/n would be in.

Spencer knew she would be pretty, everyone in Hollywood was gorgeous that’s how it worked, but this girl was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, even with her bleached hair that he could assume was a split second decision.

She sat on a chair next to one of the officers' desks, as if she was like everyone else and not a world-wide popstar. Y/n and her manager Joe look up, hearing footsteps walk into the room. She stood up to shake Hotch’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you and thank you so much.” “Of course”

She goes to shake Derek hand, saying a greeting similar to the one she gave Hotch, then she comes face to face with Spencer, or possibly- not definitely the most beautiful man she has ever seen, sticking out her hand she says, “Hi, nice to meet you..”

“Dr. Spencer Reid- or just Spencer, you don’t have to call me doctor.” “Nice to meet you Spencer.” Y/n stays looking at Spencer maybe a second longer than she should have. It’s just so hard to look away from a man that beautiful. When Y/n does finally look away, she takes a seat and they begin their questioning.

“How well do you know Natalie Ryan?”

“Uh, we talked when we were at the same events and were always friendly, but we weren’t friends.”

“How about Wally Melman?”

“What?”

“Wally Melman, he was a producer who was killed a couple months ago.” Spencer jumps in, making Y/n turn to address him, while she asks her next statement .

“The paper said that it was a robbery.” “The paper was wrong.” Derek responded quickly.

“Did you know him?” Hotch asks, wanting to get back to the questions he has for Y/n.

“I wanted to work with him on my last album, but he started working with..” Y/n cut herself off.

“Who?” Spencer asks concernedly, seeing the scared look on Y/n's face.

“Natalie Ryan, and they beat Y/n for song of the year” Joe says while Y/n is setting her face to rest in her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Do you ever have the feeling that someone is following you, or watching you?” Derek asks.

“Only every second I spend outside my house. I have fans, and paparazzi following me everywhere. It’s part of the job.”

“Do you ever get repetitive phone calls, hang ups, or gifts sent anonymously?” Spencer asks.

“I receive flowers, Lilies, my favourite. The seventh of each month they get sent to each of my homes, they just show up on the doorstep. Never a note, nothing.”

After a few more of their questions it just becomes too much, knowing that these people are being killed because of her or ‘for’ her and Y/n gets up and leaves the room. Not being able to actually leave given the cameras outside, she doesn’t get too far. And Spencer is right behind her.

“Y/n wait!”

“Can you explain what the hell is going on?”

“Well, it’s still rather speculative, but it appears there’s a delusional assassin who’s killing people to help further your career. It probably started as a stalker. An erotomaniac stalker. There’s a psychopathology of the evolution of these types of stalkers and the fact that he’s contacting you indicates that he believes you owe him something. This model frequently concludes itself with one of two possibilities, either the stalker will kill himself or he’ll kill the object of his affection.”

If Spencer wasn’t talking about the possibility of Y/n’s untimely death, she would have had more time to find Spencer’s rambling and seemingly never ending knowledge hot.

Y/n had gotten home from her time at the station, hoping to be able to relax as she has the Met tomorrow night. But when she had gotten to her front door the yellow notepad paper taped onto it caught her eye.

After reading the note she called the station immediately. The BAU had arrived looking over the note, Y/n was in the room but not listening, she onlys snaps back into listening to the conversations when she hears Spencer.

“In English?” one of the officers asks.

“That is English actually.” Y/n smiles at that, while Spencer continues, getting cut off by Derek not too far into his explanation. Y/n finally speaks up, after the team starts talking about how she should continue, as if she isn’t there.

“I’m standing right here guys..”

“If we did remove you from the street, you couldn’t stay here, we would have to take you to an undisclosed location.”

“I have a fitting here in 30 mins, and the Met tonight, then I’m all yours. Look, I don't want to be afraid of this lunatic.”

"We can clear all but essential personnel, and up your security.”

“Derek and Spencer will stay here with you.”

“Okay.”

The team getting Y/n ready for the Met have set up, Y/n just finished getting hair and makeup done in just her underwear and a robe. Spencer walks up to Y/n while she’s opening a greenhouse ginger shot to drink.

“I’m sorry if I was insensitive earlier.” Spencer says, referring to when he followed her outside of the questioning room and told her there was a possibility this stalker/assassin guy will kill her, just a tad insensitive.

But nonetheless Y/n responds with, “It’s fine, you were just doing your job, right?” “Yeah.” Y/n takes her ginger shot with a look of remorse on her face. She reaches for the soda in Spencer’s hand, to wash it down.

“You don’t mind sharing with me do you?” Spencer quickly shakes his head mumbling a quick ‘no’ while Y/n’s team calls her to get into the dress, Y/n takes off the robe she was wearing, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen, then throwing the robe over a nearby chair. Now standing in just her underwear she smiles at Spencer before walking over to the team helping her get into the dress.

Leaving Spencer to watch her as she subtly sways her hips slightly more than usual when she walks. Spencer takes a sip of the soda Y/n had handed back after taking a sip, Derek coming over to tease Spencer about the scene he just watched.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” “Shut up.” Spencer says as he walks away. “Go get ‘em, lover.”

Y/n didn’t get to stay at the Met nearly as long as she wished. With double the security and Spencer there with her, she knew she wouldn’t have the night she was hoping for, but maybe something close.

But as she danced with Tom Hiddleston, Spencer got the call to take her to the safe house. Spencer didn’t really want to interrupt Y/n dancing on who he assumes is another famous person, but he had to, for her safety.

“Um- Y- Y/n we have to go.” Spencer says while struggling to gain her attention.

“Really?” “Yeah..” “Okay” she sighs, turning to Tom, mumbling an apology and some fake excuse.

They got to Y/n's home. Spencer rambling about safety measures Y/n should take. “You should also probably change all your phone numbers.” “I’m unlisted.” “Anytime you call an 800 number or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. If someone gets your cell phone number they can go online and research all your records.”

Y/n looks at Spencer expecting him to continue, but when he doesn’t she assumes he’s done, and gets up to walk into her kitchen, saying as she gets up, “You’re very cute when you ramble.” Causing Spencer to freeze but when she turns the corner out of his sight he rushes to keep up with her.

“You should also probably carry a piece of paper and a pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious licence plates that often reappear.” Spence trails of looking closely at a collage hung up on Y/n’s wall

“It’s a photographic collage. I like how obscure it is.”

“You should also get a dog. Like a guard dog of some sort.” Spencer says, staring intently at the collage but not acknowledging what Y/n said about it.

“I don’t think so, I'm a cat person. Dogs are not for me… Earl grey good?”

“Wha- what?”

“Tea, do you want some tea?”

“Uh yes, yes sure.”

“Okay” Y/n says smiling at his nervousness.

Y/n walks into the living room, in her swimsuit with a robe overtop, coming to stand next to Spencer while he stares intently at the picture collage on Y/n’s wall.

“Are you feeling anything?” “There is something definitely appealing about it.” “That’s a start” Y/n says while chuckling.

Turning on her heels towards the back door to the pool. This catches Spencer’s actions wondering what she's doing, he asks, “What are you doing?” “Going for a swim.” Y/n responds nonchalantly. “What? No, Y/N!” Spencer yells following her, but before he can reach her she dives into the pool.

Swimming up to the surface and wiping her face with her hands. She looks so gorgeous, she looks like a movie star, which is not far off. But Spencer really shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is when he’s job is to keep her safe, and her being out here is not safe.

“Y/n, you cannot do this.” “Just a few minutes?” She ‘asks’ while giving Spencer puppy dog eyes. “Go get a suite in the house.” “What? No, I’m not going to grab a suit. Are you kidding me? No.” Spencer says in that high pitched tone he does, she’s only heard it once before, but she can’t help but find it so cute.

“Join me.” “No, I’m going to join you.” “Why not?” “You’re being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” “I’m not going to stop living my life because of him.” Y/n turns to float in the water. “Y/n, I’m begging you. Will you please get out of the pool?”

“Come on, Spence, you should live a little.” “Live a little? I’ve not known you for 24 hours, I feel like I’ve already aged 10 years.” “Ugh, I can’t be that bad.” “Yes, you are that bad.” Y/n turns off of her back and starts to swim to the edge of the pool Spencer is standing at.

“Fine, but can you help me out at least?” She says putting on an innocent face as if she really did want help out of the pool. When Spencer leans down to grab her hand to help her up, Y/n pulls him into the pool causing a big splash following after Spencer falls in.

Which then causes a laugh to come from Y/n as Spencer rises to the water's surface.

“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Y/n. Hilarious. My gun’s wet. That’s just great” Spencer swims to the edge to get his gun out of the water, Y/n swimming behind him, still chuckling.

“My clothes.” “I told you to grab a suit.”

While Spencer looks down at his wet chest, Y/n’s hand comes to rest on his peck, causing Spencer to look up at Y/n. When he looks at her, she is already looking in his eyes, her eyes asking the question ‘do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?’ the answer being ‘yes’ as Spencer starts to lean in. Not knowing what he’s doing, leaning in to kiss Y/n L/n global superstar? Who does he think he is, thinking she would want to kiss him? But contrary to Spencer's beliefs, Y/N leans in too, pulling his body closer to hers faster by his tie. As their lips collide, it feels as if the world slows down. For the first time in a long time Y/n feels normal, regular, ordinary, in the best possible way. She feels in the way Spencer's lips are moving against hers that he doesn’t want her for her fame, or looks, but for her. Just her. But then Spencer pulls away. It had only been a couple seconds, how could a kiss that short hold that much emotion? Spencer’s words stop her from thinking too much.

“This is completely inappropriate.” “Spence..” Y/n looks into Spencer's eyes only looking away when she closes them and pulls him into another kiss, by his tie. This kiss, still sweet and emotion filled, yet rougher, as if they had gotten that much more comfortable now versus 15 seconds ago. Their lips move together roughly, Y/n tongue brushing Spencer’s lips looking for access, which causes Spencer to move his lips back from Y/n’s again. “No, there’s this thing called transference.” Spencer says, all the while Y/n is trying to recover from the best kiss of her life, and Spencer has no idea. “Do you not like me?” “What?” Spencer says quickly like him not liking her, and is just the most insane idea in the world, and truthfully that’s not far off. “Was that kiss not good?” “No- no it was very good.” “Because I like you.” “I like you too. It’s just I’m a federal agent. You know. And I’m supposed to protect you.” “Then you should keep me close.” Y/n mumbles moving her lips to Spencers again. Spencer pulls back to start talking again, as Y/N’s kisses move to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin every so often, the first nibble causing Spencer to let out a surprised noise that quickly turns into a moan. “I’m just, hmm.. I’m a little worried, you know? We’re in a pool.” “Are we?” “And it’s uh.. We’re pretty much exposed.” Y/n moves to give Spencer's lips a quick peck, before responding to his concerns. “We have cops. We have cops posted out front.” Y/n cuts herself off to kiss Spencer again, “There are coyotes out back.” Y/n pauses looking at Spencer’s lips, while licking her own, then shooting her eyes up to Spencer’s “And then it’s just you and me.” Y/n moves her lips to be hovering over Spencer’s their noses rubbing against each other, it feels much more intimate than just kissing him, breathing in the after shave and cologne mixed with chlorine soaked into his skin is a smell Y/n would never get sick of, no matter how much she hated the smell of chlorine. She moves her lips back to the spot she found on his neck that makes him the most reactive. “Stop- I have to tell you something.” “What?” “I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I was a little bit worried… I didn’t know how to say it, but I can’t not tell you.” “Spence, just tell me. What is it?” “Your manager, Joe… Hotch went to check on him, but he got there too late.” Y/n looks into Spencer’s eyes any ounce of a look that would tell her he wasn’t serious. Because Joe couldn’t be dead. Not because of her, Joe was like family, no matter how weird he was. Joe was always there. Y/n turns away not being able to look at Spencer, “How could you-” She turns back to him, looking Spencer in the eyes as she aks, “How could you not tell me?” “I was afraid you’d be upset.” “You knew? How could you know and not tell me?” “Y/n, I’m so sorry” Y/n moves towards the edge of the pool to pull herself out, Spencer trying to help her. “Don’t- Don’ touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” Y/n gets out walking back into the house with a towel around herself, leaving Spencer in the pool.

Spencer walks into Y/n’s living room, seeing her sitting on her couch crying, he wants to comfort her. Just don't know how. “Y/n?...Are you still… Are you okay?” “Joe was like family.” Hearing Y/n cry hurts Spencer more than he thought possible from a girl he met not even 24 hours ago. “It’s just so hard to trust people in this industry, you don’t know who to believe.Everybody wants something from you. And I felt- I thought you were different.” “I know I should have told you.” “I told him not to.” Rossi cuts in having heard most of the conversation from behind Spencer. “He was only following my orders.” Rossi pats Spencer's shoulder while leaving the room. “The last time I could really trust people was when I moved to Nashville.” Y/n says, all the while Spencer is decoding the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. “Nashville, you said you lived you Houston street? And you were on KZ fm in high school?..” “Yeah..?” When Y/n sees the way Spencer is intensely staring at the collage she also gets up, to stand next to him. “I need to take this thing about.” Spencer says while not looking away. “What?” “I’ll put it back. I think I see images of you. Guys!”

Y/n stands to the side with Derek while Spencer and Emily are putting the pieces together. “Y/n, it looks like someone has been stalking you for years.”

“Yeah, this tells your whole life story. Awards, Billboard charts, Albums.”

“Everything since moving to Nashville.”

“Who gave you this collage?” Derek asked, leaning over the island counter. “Um- he did” Y/N says pointing at a picture on the collage. “Who is he?” “Uh- Parker Dunley, I don’t really know him, he just owns a gallery I go to sometimes.”

Spencer gets off the phone quickly turning to Y/N. “Y/N, do you someone by the name of Veronica Hartley?” “Roni? Yeah, of course I know her. I’ve known her for years. She’s one of my assistants.” Their conversation gets cut off by Y/n’s phone ringing. “What is it?” Spencer asks, seeing the way her eyes widened when she read the caller ID.

“That’s her calling now.”

“Is she calling from her cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/n, we think Roni’s the stalker.”

“No- No way.”

“Answer the phone. Act completely natural, the longer you keep her on the line the more likely we’ll be able to trace the call.. Trust me.” Spencer walks away to call the team, while Y/n answers Roni’s call.

“Hello?…Roni?...” Spencer turns to Y/N and gives her a signal to keep talking.

“Rons?... You’re tired?......I saw you today?.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.. I remember.. Roni, that was just one weekend…”

“Y/n” Spencer whisper yells, after getting off the phone with Penny, finding out Roni’s calling inside the house.

“How did she get inside?”

“She has keys.”

Spencer starts searching the house Y/n walking behind him. When they get up to a guest bedroom, Y/n feels the barrel of a gun being pressed to her skull, Spencer quickly turns around.

“Put down the gun.” Roni demands. “Roni..” Spencer says while lowering his gun. “Don’t call me ‘Roni” you don’t know me! Come on, Y/n, let’s go. We have to go, baby. Come on.” Y/n looks in Spencer’s eyes begging him to do something. “Roni, don’t hurt her. You don’t need to hurt her.” “You don’t know anything. I would never hurt her. I created her" "No you didn’t.” “Yes, I did you stupid, ungrateful, little bitch.. I can’t believe I ever loved you.” “Roni, she.. She loves me now.” Roni moves her gun from pointing it at Y/n’s head to pointing it at Spencer. “She told me so. When we were in the pool. She kissed me. Now she loves me okay?” “No.” “Tell her we kissed in the pool.” “No!’ Roni yells this time switching from pointing her gun from Spencer to Y/n. Y/n looks at Spencer hopefully to tell her the next move, when he nods his head at her she says, “Yes, we kissed.” Roni then pushes Y/n, and Spencer tackles Roni to the ground, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at her. “Kill me! Please. Kill me! I’ll be so much happier!” But Spencer shakes his head, lowering the gun as he says, “No, we’re going to get you some help.”

Y/n is standing in the station talking to her publicist, while news vans are lined up outside.

“I don’t want any media.” “Come on, Y/n” “No. No media.” “Okay, no media. Let me deal with these guys then.”

After Y/n’s publicist leaves, Spencer walks up to Y/n. “I wish we didn’t meet under these circumstances. More normal maybe.” “Y/n, believe me, no matter how we met, I’m glad we did.” Y/n feels her whole body, warm at that, she turns her head, knowing Spencer can see the blush on her face. They’re interrupted when Derek yells for Spencer. “Hey, Reid. Come on, we got to move.” “Well, um- here, take this.” Y/n passes Spencer a receipt she had written her new number on. “Would you- if it’s okay with you, give me a call.” “Yeah, I would love to.” Rossi comes walking over. “I hate to intrude, kid, but we’re waiting.” “Yeah- yeah a second.” “So- call me, I’ll be waiting.” Y/n turns to walk away, but Spencer puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Y/n turns towards Spencer, he puts his hand on her check, Y/n leaning into his palm, turning her head slightly to press a small kiss into his palm, before walking away.

#spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer #reid

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kiss-me-muchoo · 10 months

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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: so many signs

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ When Miguel fell so hard for an anomaly that ended up being another one of his canon events; a soulmate. Only that it was late, very late.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ fluff, angst?, reader is a hot Hispanic sunshine, plot twist at the end, age gap? (How old is Miguel?, like 28, early 30's?, reader is like 20 not specified) I'm 19, so in my head reader is 20, fuck it <3.

𝐀𝐍_ hellooo, this is my Ist fic for this fandom, I've been trying to hide this crush for weeks, I can't anymore.

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙎𝙏 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙤𝙟𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖.

<3,𝙄𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙭 (+fics)

_________________

[11 months before the events of SPIDER-MAN: ATSV]…

Nothing is perfect; nothing can be that special. But somehow, you ended up being that, at least almost.

Because this is how everything starts; you were stressing out for college sophomore year finals when in the middle of your room, a portal opened and absorbed you.

Sounds incredibly ridiculous and cringe… Right?. Sorry, but it’s about to get worse.

The portal only left you there, hanging between random universes, and out of nowhere, a spider bit you. And seconds later, you were back at home stressing over the finals.

Yeah, you didn’t think it would be a problem, only that it increased your phobia of spiders. Later, you accepted that Los Angeles would have an arachnid vigilante.

Yeah, Los Angeles. No shit, you wouldn’t fly to save New York in your universe just to fit the stereotype. Besides, they already had one, the most significant and original anomaly, Miles Morales.

That’s for later, by the way.

You had your suspicions that the multiverse existed but no curiosity. You only cared about your sacred California and, to be more specific, your friends and family.

So it goes; you were a sparkly spider-girl with glitter webs and fantastic hair, saving people from the crime on Skid Row, abusive elites in Downtown, corruption in Glendale, and extortions from Santa Clarita.

Your family knew about it, and your friends too. They helped to pick out your surname; Aragmatica.

So you had everything; no pressure from being the spider-girl Aragmatica, wonderful friends, and family. A transcription remote job and a firm college pathway to be a writer and teacher.

Except for one thing; love.

You didn’t have anyone to hold, anyone who made you laugh like never. Someone who made you feel the scarlet blush and raced heartbeats.

Nah, fuck that. You don’t need a man.

________

Warm day in Hollywood Hills, 12:00 pm.

Finally, your official transcript from that year was carefully sealed in an envelope. Summer break was yours, starting with a good ballet class.

Your spider senses weren’t fully developed because you never saw 4 pair of eyes watching you.

The class was fun, though. All the music was from the most famous plays, and having the opportunity to wear a tutu was always accepted.

You didn’t care coming out of the building wearing it after the friendly teacher gifted you the fluffy piece of clothing.

You also didn’t care to sing slightly aloud as you walked towards your car.

And that’s when 4 individuals interfered with your way; Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown, and Gwen Stacy.

“Uh… nice cosplays. But the Comic-Con is more to the south. In San Diego…” They looked at each other. Only the older guy stepped further, laughing.

“Oh, you’re funny. There’s also one in my universe, but it’s celebrated in Coney Island and-“ only that Gwen pinched him. The older man frowned.

“She’s leaving, Peter,” Gwen said.

“Hey! Wait!” Peter stopped you from closing your car door, and you looked more confused than ever.

“Dude, back off. There’s a kid between us. You don’t want to do this…” Hobie giggled. He had remained leaning against a mailbox during the whole interaction.

“What? No-, I-. We need to talk to you… we’re also spider people” Rolling your eyes, you just rested your head on the steering wheel.

“Yeah, your suits are too good to cosplay. I like your pointe shoes though” Gwen blushed but said thank you for your flattery.

“I’m Peter Parker. The guy with the cool outfit that’s Hobie Brown. And the girl with the pointe shoes you liked is Gwen Stacy” They looked lovely. Hobie and Gwen, probably your age, but you were running late for dinner. You had to drop the transcript for validation in early registration for a master's program.

You didn’t have time for this Have you heard of the Avengers initiative? moment.

The best you could do was politely turn them down. But they were already inside your car.

“Hey!. Okay, if this is some spider intervention, I don’t have time to travel between universes and that stuff” Hobie started playing your radio. Again, you rolled your eyes.

“This is good music, girl. Nice…” he said, making you smile a little. He seemed nicer.

“Thanks, but…” Then Gwen interrupted you.

“You could be dangerous or cause a massive disaster for the canon. You are a rare case between spiders” For the first time, you were quiet. Maybe that omen was this, that not everything could be perfect.

“You felt it….” Peter said because your silence was loud enough to tell him.

“You knew about us then?”

“The multiverse and variations are not a thrill in this universe. I wasn’t expecting this on a random Friday afternoon,” you explained.

“Our boss wants to meet you. We need to know what type of anomaly you are” They all heard you sighing. You had too many questions but were tired, so you wouldn’t be annoying.

“Okay.” Peter shrugged in disbelief.

“That’s it?. No questions?” Gwen passed you a blue band, probably to travel between universes.

“She’s not energetic nor annoying. Miguel will like her,” Hobie stated, comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Just don’t smile too much, avoid questions, and you’ll be fine” Humming in agreement, you waited.

A portal of bright colors and blinding flashes appeared seconds later from your car's windshield. It was different from what you expected. In the movies looked easier.

“Okay, here we go…” Peter announced. And with fast blood pressure, you followed them.

The first thing you felt was the urge to complain on the ground. Laying on your stomach, with your hair in a now disheveled bun.

Everyone turned to look at you, finally noticing you were wearing a tutu and leotard in grey and black colors.

“Lost your hoodie?” Gwen asked, being the first to start giggling, followed by the others.

“Could any of you have alerted me to prepare for this type of landing?” You asked anyone in particular. Then you analyzed Gwen’s question.

“MY hoodie!. Damnit, it was new!” And that’s how you lost 75 dollars. But soon, you stopped thinking about the new tour merch you lost.

It was a bright earth, futuristic and agitated. And as soon as you entered the giant building, you noticed it was full of spider people.

From any size to any color, but… no one was similar to you. Well, you didn’t have a suit yet, but… you couldn’t feel a spider sense with anyone.

“Surprised?” Gwen asked, walking by your side.

“Well. I’d rather say disturbed,” she giggled.

“You’re unlike any spider I’ve met,” the blonde added.

“I can’t be special. I must be the most boring spider-girl….” Bored or not, you were missing dinner. Your family would be worried if you didn’t come back past midnight. Hopefully, your first interaction with another universe will be quick.

“That’s why you must be here…” said a new voice.

A pregnant spider-woman?. Could you feel any weirder?.

“Yeah…I’m y/n. No suit yet, but I have the name of Aragmatica” She nodded. Her yellow glasses were very cool, you liked her look in general.

“We know that. But let’s go. Miguel needs to see you….” and officially, that was the beginning of everything.

The HQ was futuristic, wide and full of people. Everything was so weird that edged being ridiculous. Until, the group of spiders lead you to a dark room. Full of technology and chemistry stuff.

For the first time, you felt a tingle when he finally faced you; Miguel O’Hara. And to be honest, his broad and tall figure intimidated you.

He said you were a bizarre anomaly. You were the only spider person who had been bitten between universes. Meaning that you were an accident, nobody was like you.

Unconsciously, your own canon was building up as every day passed. So your actions were vital for everyone.

He offered you a place in the group to keep order among universes. Suspicious, but seemed honest at the same time.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have a degree to finish. And I got enrolled for summer ballet classes….” you said, ambling towards the exit.

“No. You need to be a responsible spider girl and do what you’re expected to do,” the man said, intimidating you more as he towered you. Beside getting lost in his amazing hair, intriguing brown eyes and sharp jaw, your thoughts were running. Maybe you were being selfish. Most of the people in the room had lost a lot. You didn’t.

“You just said I’m an accident. There are no expectations from me. I can’t break canon. I’m making my own….” you dared to say, avoiding looking into his brown eyes.

“You want to find out?” a little closer, and you would touch his chest. Besides, the tingle was back. Miguel also felt it, but he called it on you being angered by this new phase you would enter.

You knew he was going to be hard to deal with. But deep inside, you liked the feeling he had planted on your stomach.

“No…” you admitted. Slightly afraid of losing what you had. He smiled but for less than a second.

“That’s what I thought” After that, it was history.

________

Two months. And things were… okay.

You made a great friendship with Peter and Hobie. Something inside you was stopping you from trusting Gwen at all.

Then, Jessica was good but slightly challenging. Even Pavitr was good.

And then, it was Miguel.

Fucking Miguel O’Hara. He was dead serious every time. Still, you refused to show he could intimidate you.

Like right now, or… at that moment, whatever.

“He’s going to kill you…” Lyla whispered, moving in circles around you.

“He won’t if someone no va de chismosa,” she frowned.

“He’s going to kill us both, y/n,” she almost yelled. Following you to the briefing of a new case.

“He can’t kill you, Lyla. Be serious…” you stated, shrugging.

“I don’t want to know…”

“Me neither. So just shush….” The room was almost empty. Only Peter, Hobie, and Jessica were inside.

The sound of the door captured everyone’s attention. Miguel sighed. After that, he stopped talking.

“You’re late….” Of course, he would remark on your irresponsibility.

“Traffic on Venice. What can I say, handsome?” he rolled his eyes and indicated you sit down.

Earth-238, neon venom, evacuated civilians, blah blah blah. The mission would be easy, and you’d be leaving the room.

“not you, y/n….” Miguel’s voice caught you off guard. When you turned around, Lyla was still whispering to him.

“Bitch…” you whispered.

“Hey, I’ll wait for you,” Hobie said, indicating that he would wait outside the room.

You nodded at him, smiling as he left.

“Why did you send the evidence of last week’s mission to Jessica instead of me?” He asked, arms crossed.

“She’s also my boss,” you admitted, avoiding his judgemental brows and gaze.

“I’m in charge. She’s second in command. So?…” you pinched your nose, anxiety creeping over.

“I-…” It was useless; you had to be honest.

“Because uh-, I didn’t want you to see the anomaly recording” he was right. He knew you would be afraid of his reaction. Something inside switched to be softer.

“I almost killed that girl. It was an accident, but… I can’t control this new ability. And I want to do a good job” Your anxiety was evident. Miguel had to suppress a smile.

“You have a big responsibility on your shoulders. The power to retain or doom canon” a lecture was coming. And you wished he wore his mask because you could see his whole features. Making it prone to capture any negativity from him.

“And that’s why you must be on missions with me, not Jessica. I’m training you, not her” To be honest, you were surprised.

“You make me nervous all the time. I’m afraid I’ll make something stupid on any of these days, and you’ll send me home” He kind of chuckled, and it made you beyond surprised.

“I thought you were working on the English degree and summer ballet classes.”

“You remember it?” Could your heart beat any faster?. His eyes were deep-fixed on yours, and it was killing you in a good way.

“Madre mía, stop giving me that look. I’m gonna piss myself off from nervousness.”

“Don’t be that of a perfectionist. You’re doing good, kid” The pat on your shoulder made you explode.

Right there, you knew it was over. You had a crush on Miguel O’Hara.

____________________

Was it possible to see everything in pink shades and heart sprinkles? That’s how you were looking at every universe. You were starting your lover era.

“PETER! PETER!” You yelled, running towards the man, heading out of the cafeteria. Most spider people on the headquarters looked at you, but you didn’t care.

“Woah, calm down, girl,” he said with a smile.

“I need to tell you something” he couldn’t describe your excitement but happily took your hand when you pushed him inside an empty conference room.

“I have a crush on Miguel,” you said with an evident blush.

“YOU WHAT?” He asked yelling.

“I know, I know. But… he’s so sweet to me. He said I shouldn’t be nervous about him and that I was doing good. He remembers my career and that I’m doing ballet classes. Oh, and today he opened the door for me TWICE!” You explain excited, pinching your suit, in pearl and iridescent tones with a sparkly spider resting on your chest.

“This is insane. Are you insane, y/n?. We’re talking about Miguel. Our grumpy and snarky boss that gets stressed over the tiniest detail and doesn’t know how to smile” You nodded, rolling your eyes.

“It’s not like he’s the love of my life or destiny, Peter. It’s just a crush….” you tried to convince yourself.

“No, no, no. I disapprove of this. Isn’t he a little older for you?” You sighed.

“Oh, c’mon. MJ is younger than you, Mr. No age gap”

“This is serious, y/n. I’ve known Miguel for a long time. You know what happened to him. I don’t think he’s emotionally ready for this” he was right. But you were confident that this crush wouldn’t be a big issue.

“I know. The least I want to do is hurt him. But once again, it’s just a crush, Peter,” you started coming out of the room. And, like a big coincidence, Miguel was walking through the hallway with Lyla talking to him.

“Hey, is it okay if I go to your office at lunchtime?” you asked the broad man once he was walking near you. He had his mask, that if you stared too long, it was a severe and scary gaze, but he nodded once. Neither you nor Peter noticed Miguel was actually looking at you. Causing him to feel a weird pricking.

“Sure,” with that, he left with the female IA giving you a bad look.

“What?” Peter asked in disbelief once again.

“See? Nothing to worry about, love,” you said,

_____________

“Don’t be so late, mija. There’s no crime tonight for you to take that long,” your grandma told you from the kitchen. You entered the room being greeted by the smell of mole and ponche.

“With this food waiting for me. Yeah, sure, the city can rest a night without me, abuelita,” she giggled as you kissed her cheek.

“I’m just going for a stretch. And maybe a flan for dinner” Your favorite part of the day was starting. So happily, you left the house. AirPods on with your favorite music blasting through them, and it felt like heaven.

Swinging from palm to buildings and watching the crowds of the traffic of LA. Until you were in the Fashion District Downtown. You stopped at your favorite rooftop to see the last minutes of the West Coast sunset.

And it was beautiful. Orange, pink, yellow, purple, blue, and black. Like a firework evaporated in the sky.

The air feels perfect for taking a long breath, and you feel thankful for having a good day.

“Hey..” you nearly fell from the building, but a well-known bright red web caught you in time.

When you turned around, you had Miguel watching you.

“Miguel?. What are you doing here?” The surprise and shock were eating you alive. Maybe an emergency happened, or he exiled you from the Spider Society. Who knows?

“Just checking on you…” lately, he had been more close to you. Giving you a hand on missions, being willing to have more extended conversations, and softer pieces of advice.

“Why?” You ask, arching a brow.

“Last week, you were a little slow…” he hears you giggling, and as he walks closer, he sees you hanging your toes on the edge. He sees your hair freely fly as you laugh. Cute, he thinks.

“I was on my period. We’re good now…” he thanked, wearing the mask because his cheeks were burning.

“Don’t be silly, Miguel. It’s… normal,” you said after he stood there quietly.

“Come, seat with me…” he obeyed, establishing some distance with you, but not too much.

Then he removed his mask, and you confirmed that his hair always looked gorgeous.

“Your universe is interesting,” he said finally.

“We are very fixed; little surprises us. And capitalism is leading us to ruin, but yes... it's interesting” Miguel wasn’t expecting that answer but smiled. Only because you didn’t catch it.

“You are spending too much time with Hobie,” you laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, I’ll take that…” This time, you noticed his smile. And you wanted to keep the moment a little longer.

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking, y/n…” he let out a brief chuckle again.

“No, I know, but…I’m afraid. Of hurting someone in the process of creating a disaster with all of this being an anomaly” For weeks, you tried to avoid the thoughts of insecurity. But this was a good moment because Miguel had been training you, and he was the right and worst person to talk about this.

“And it frustrates me that I don’t understand at all what I am….” you said, covering your face, letting all the intrusive thoughts out. Because even on a good day, anxiety could sneak in.

“Being a spider person means being afraid of many things. Keep in mind that you’ll constantly worry, but it’s part of the job. You don’t sign for it; it just hits you” his words were profound. Enough to soothe some of your panics.

“I wish I could be straight to the point like you….” Miguel was urged to touch your hand or strands of hair that brushed his forearm. But he resisted, only looking at your profile.

“No. It’s good to be honest and worry too.”

“And you’re something bigger than an anomaly. You’re special” Maybe his tone made everything sound softer.

“Well, I don’t feel special,” you admitted. “I feel like an accident. Not meant to be here, but nothing else to do.”

“You don’t need to feel it. I just see it…” when you turned to look at him, it was his soft look that made you realize, you were falling in love with him.

As your smile grew, Miguel completely ignored any thought of fear. He was just feeling, letting his heart warm and reciprocate your smile.

“You have to come and have dinner with my family and me,” you blurted excitedly.

“No.”

“SI!.”

“Por Dios. No, y/n!” He said, rolling his eyes.

“They’re not annoying or nosy, I promise,” you pleaded. He knew there was no problem because they knew you were a spider girl and the Spider Society. But… Mexican families could be nosy when a girl arrived home with a man.

“Please, as a thank you for listening to my bullshit. Por favor, ándale. Di que sí…” he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to reject you.

“Está bien, pues….”

He smiled again, watching you celebrate as you started balancing between buildings. Soon he followed you, happy to feel the way he was doing.

________________________

The shock on everyone’s faces only increased the more you talked.

Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter had their mouths open.

“And then, we went to get a flan for dinner. A kid asked for a selfie with us, and it was so silly,” you narrated.

“When we arrived home, he was so sweet. Only speaking Spanish, and he told mi abuelita I was doing great in job” Peter decided it was time to cover his mouth with one hand. Soon, everyone followed, keeping the shock.

“Dad was slightly judgmental but soon changed his mind because Miguel accepted a beer from him.”

“Oh, and we spent hours in my room” That was enough for Peter.

“WHAT?… EXCUSE ME?”

“NO, PETER!. Jesus… we spent hours in my room because I was explaining to him some of my analysis from literature classes” The color returned to his face. Nodded understanding, and everyone else laughed.

“I can’t believe this. I simply can’t…” Pavitr confessed. “Love can come in strange ways…”

“Who’s talking of love, Pavitr?” Hobie asked playfully.

“Well…” you whispered.

“What else?” Gwen almost jumped, needing to know more. You were starting to like her more.

Once again, both of you were back on a rooftop. It was almost 2:00am.

“I-, I liked this…” Miguel managed to say. Looking down at you, trying to regain his neutral and serious tone and look. But after spending hours with you, it seemed impossible.

“Me too. You were so sweet, and thank you for being so comprehensive” Your excitement didn’t match your words, not that Miguel cared. But he realized you had jumped and grabbed both of his hands. And before you pulled away, he was caressing your knuckles.

“It was nothing…”

“Are you coming tomorrow?” He asked.

“I think I stopped being a half-time employee some time ago…” he nodded, smiling.

“True.”

Hands were still holding. And none of you wanted to break the touch.

“Till tomorrow then….” you said, sad to break the touch but happy for everything that happened that night.

And with that, you saw Miguel opening a portal, and you left.

You accidentally dropped a notebook when you entered your room through the window. Cursing between whispers, you hoped you didn’t wake up your family.

“Te dió un beso?” your grandma asked, opening your room door. You smiled deeply.

“No. But we hold hands for a long time, abuelita.”

“Creo que lo amo….” you admitted, very afraid.

“I think he loves you too,” she said.

“NO - FUCKING - WAY!” Gwen yelled.

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming of drunk?”

“No, Peter. I only drink in Mexico, and I had a dream of the last episode of The haunting of Hill House I watched” he snorted as if he had heard something incredible. Gwen couldn’t stop taking time to digest the information, Pavitr too, and Hobie was… being Hobie.

“Dude looks nice with her. I heard him laugh the other day,” Hobie stated.

“Me too. And he canceled a meeting to go and train her,” Pavitr added.

“He’s, like, the last person I imagined you would say you had a date with.”

“It wasn’t a date….” you said.

“IT WASN’T A DATE?. Girl, he had dinner with your family, listened to your boring old books for hours, and held your hands for… five or eight minutes?”

“Okay… maybe it unconsciously turned into a date.” They all nodded. Even Mayday seemed to nod.

“Oh, my god… Was it a date?”

_______________________

Peter sighed as he watched you laugh with Hobie.

“… y/n is very happy. Did you two have fun last night?” He asked Miguel once he entered his office.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” the broad man approached to say.

Peter loved you like a sister. He wanted you to be happy and safe.

He trusted Miguel after years of knowing each other. But he wasn’t sure if you two had a bright future.

“I don’t want to discuss this with you either.”

“So?”

“Look, she’s like Mayday’s aunt. I want her to be happy. And you too, man. But… I want you to think… Is it correct?” Miguel stopped looking at the screens.

“We can’t lose her. And I don’t want to see another era of pain and collapse” It hit him.

What was he thinking? Letting all of his feelings take over him. He couldn’t be in love; it wasn’t meant for him.

Your canon was unsure, delicate. And his… was doomed.

He imagined having to see you gone, and he wasn’t ready to find out.

He wasn’t ready to go through that pain again.

“Just think… because maybe it’s meant to be, but-“

“No. You’re right…” Miguel accepted.

Peter grew quiet.

“After y/n leaves tonight. Call the others, except Hobie…”

Miguel made a decision. Losing you was going to save both of you. Or so he thought.

_____

Weird.

The cafeteria was quiet.

Then a piece of your suit ripped off.

And spider-cat was absent!!!

Then, you didn’t see Miguel the day before. When you asked Lyla, she said he was swamped with his job, so you would not make him stressed. Plus, having some space after spending the night together would be great.

“Hey!” You called Hobie when he sat next to you on a bench. He was used to visiting you in your universe. He liked the food and how the people complained about something new daily.

“Something feels weird,” he blurted, tilting his head.

“RIGHT?. I thought I was the only one” he nodded and sighed. That was also weird; Hobie never hesitated to spit the words out.

“What?”

“Yesterday. After you left, Peter called everyone except for me. It seemed weird that just as you left, he called everyone to get a lecture from Miguel,” Another weird thing. Why you and Hobie would be excluded?

“Miguel stopped wasting his time with me, But a meeting without you?” Maybe it wasn’t anything. Perhaps a simple meeting. There had been some occasions where you had not been present.

“Do you wanna go and find why?” you asked playfully. He nodded with a gentle smile.

“Hell yeah…” Both of you left in seconds.

Spending time with Spider-punk was always fun. Hobie made you remember things like; fuck it, just do it.

And he liked spending time with you because of your honesty.

But for the first hour, you didn’t find anyone. Even when the headquarters of the Spider Society were big, you thought it would have been easier.

By the evening, you find yourself eating an empanada, thinking of Miguel. Accepting you started missing him.

“Guys!…” Gwen called you and Hobie. As she walked towards you two, Hobie said something quick.

“Don’t ask anything yet…” you nodded to him.

“We were busy getting scolded by Miguel. But there’s a new mission we need to go to. And he wants all, let’s go….” The punk man and you exchanged looks, not buying Gwen’s words.

You got too carried away, forming possible explanations for her weird behavior. Why you hadn’t seen your friends the day before?. And why you and Hobie were excluded from the last meeting?.

You didn’t even look at Pavitr taking Hobie away.

As soon as you entered the room, Jessica, Peter, and Miguel were inside.

“Where’s Hobie?” He asked.

“He was right here…” Gwen mumbled, looking around, making Miguel sigh tired.

He didn't look at you for the first minutes of the debriefing. The more he ignored your presence, the more your questions emerged.

“Everyone get ready… except for y/n,” he announced with his neutral and cold face.

“Why?”

“You’re going home.”

“WHAT?” you screamed.

At the end of the day, Miguel wasn’t ready for this. But he was doing his best, even if it meant lying to you.

“Your canon is changing, constantly glitching. We can’t risk anything happening. I’m sending you home…” he explained like nothing.

“No, please. You have to stop seeing me as a danger. Look at me as your talisman, like a ghost in the multiverses. If it was something bad, it would’ve happened already” he kept looking straight at the doors, not even moving.

It hurt you that he was still unsure of you, especially after everything he said in your home.

“It’s for the best.”

“Can we talk… In private?” You whispered, taking his forearm. He slowly moved away, making you feel the pain grow.

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Oh really?. I think we do. What about the other day?”

“It was. All this time, it was. It wasn’t a coincidence that you appeared after someone tried opening portals in your earth,” you gasped in shock.

“I did it for the Spider Society. I needed to know you were not a threat.”

“You said I was special…” he managed to hear you whisper. And it was tearing him.

“You are. But a potential danger too. Which is why I’m sending you home…” you shake your head, fighting the tears rapidly forming in your eyes.

“All of you knew about this?” You asked, looking at Peter, Gwen, and Jessica.

The pregnant woman bowed her head while Gwen looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

“We do this because we care for and want to protect you…”

“Really? This is not what friends do. All you do is lie and lie to me!” you said with a broken voice.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel admitted looking down.

“GOD, STOP LYING” you yelled.

“Tell me I meant nothing to you. Or admit you might be scared of the possibility of falling in love with me….”

“You meant nothing to me. It was all a lie” he broke you. You swore you heard your heart decreasing its heartbeats.

“For one minute, I thought you… loved me back” As he stood there quietly, you started crying.

To everyone’s shock, it was the first time they saw you crying. Gwen tried to reach you, but you stepped back, moving away from all of them.

At the same time, Pavitr and Hobie entered the room.

“Something weird happened. You might want to see this, boss,” Pavitr announced.

“It was dope….” Hobie admitted leaning on the door frame. But stood quiet after watching you crying.

The moment turned uneasy, debating whether to go or stay with you.

“Please, let’s go, and then we’ll talk with tranquility about this,” Peter told you. Giving a look that he wasn’t happy with seeing you cry.

Slowly, you followed them. Ignoring Miguel’s look.

Then you thought, What was the point of following them? If they would send you home after that?.

Anger wasn’t a good feeling, but it was blinding you. All the fantastic facade they sold you of good friends. The months Miguel lied to you. He could have done it differently. But he even dared to agree to have dinner with your family.

He held your hands and made you believe there was a chance.

So you stopped following them and turned to the lower plant of the building.

___________

Your web was tiny, like a baby’s. It glitched a lot, but when Miguel entered with the others, he noticed the glitch was even more aggressive than ever.

There were only two canon moments; you getting bit and joining the Spider Society. But a new one was forming. And from the shiny dot, a new line grew.

“What the hell?” Peter asked in disbelief.

The line started moving until it was connected to another: Miguel’s.

And from that connection, a new canon event was officially established.

You and Miguel were together. Dramatically holding hands and facing each other.

“Holy sh-” Gwen almost said but couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Does this mean…” Jessica started.

“She’s part of your canon,” Peter confirmed.

Miguel was in shock; his eyes remained on what the model displayed. You were really meant for him. He hadn’t need to worry about it ending in disaster. Still, it didn’t soothe him.

“Uh-boss? Our pretty little y/n started a countdown to return home and temporarily block the entrance to her earth,” Lyla announced, appearing beside Miguel. He turned to look at her, worried.

“What?”

“I tried stopping her, but I believe she’s growing her cosmic powers?” the day couldn’t get more complicated for Spider-Man 2099.

“Cosmic powers?” Peter asked, running when Miguel started heading towards the exit.

Lyla, crossed her arms looking at everyone starting running. She couldn’t admit it to anyone. That if your issue wasn’t fixed, something darker could happen. The AI couldn’t throw salt in Miguel’s wound.

“Jessica, send help. Lyla, stop her,” he demanded. Jessica nodded, and Lyla disappeared.

“There’s no spider with cosmic powers. But y/n was a bit between universes. So maybe she has some of them or….”

“Peter shut up!. I just can’t lose her!” If you were Miguel’s destiny, he would do things right. And he regretted setting up all of the secret meetings and lies.

He rushed to get to you faster than anyone. He wasn’t even sure the blocking earth thing worked.

Maybe he was exaggerating, but he was willing to set the alarms so everyone would try to stop him.

If he had waited a day, none of this would’ve happened. But he had understood once that things happened for a reason; canon.

So as fast as he was running, something inside told him it was already late.

Peter and Gwen followed close to him, ready to find you prepared to leave.

The panic finally settled when they entered the dark room, and you were already behind the colorful barrier.

“NO!. Please, y/n” You turned to hear Miguel’s voice calling you.

Your look was empty, but the anger was there. He kept calling for you, but you didn’t say a word.

All of you wanted was to leave. Sleep and forget you were a spider girl. Ease the pain of your broken heart. And accept that no matter if you were the only variant of yourself in all the universes, you were meant to end up without love.

Because when he had you face to face, you were gone.

Confused, you appeared on a random street in Downtown LA. Your suit was ripped, your hair was a mess, and the tears didn’t seem to stop. A wave of cold air hit you, making you shiver and hug yourself.

Feeling broken and in shock, you found yourself stepping on a broken glass bottle. Your left foot instantly started bleeding, making you fall to your knees.

That’s when you no longer held the tears; you just let all the sobs take over.

You shouldn’t have accepted to join the Spider Society; you shouldn’t have pushed your crush for Miguel.

I hate this. I hate this. God, I hate this…

With no more strength, you stood up. And tottering, you started walking towards home.

It was okay; it would be okay.

________________________

Cringe in general? Maybe… part two?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #spiderman 2099 #atsv #peter b parker #miguel o’hara imagine #accross the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

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lacetulle · 2 years

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What was your favorite met gala gown?

This is a tough question and my answer is going to be a long one. Mostly because this was the second part of a two-parter exhibition. In America: A Lexicon of Fashion was the exhibit in September last year, and that particular gala seemed very boring. There wasn't a specific theme other than Americana, so it was underwhelming since it encompassed such a broad amount of time. So when they announced that this gala had a 'Gilded Glamour' theme, I was thrilled that they were trying to hone in on a specific time period. Unfortunately, they announced it not even a month ago. The amount of time that goes into planning these looks spans well beyond a month, so while I think the theme was grossly ignored, the theme announcement came way too late for designers and celebrities.

Also, fashion designers are who truly get the invites to the gala. Vogue does invite a handful of celebrities and they get to work with whatever designer they want, but when we see a crowd of celebrities with Moschino or Louis Vuitton or Prabal Gurung...the designers choose what the celebrity wears. So unless you're at a certain level of star power, sometimes you just get to show up and look out of place (I'm looking at you, Michael Kors and LV girls) because the designer gets to choose. With that said, here is my favorite. And some honorable mentions.

Blake Lively is my winner. I loved the homage to the Statue of Liberty and its patina effect. I actually didn't really like it when I first saw her on the carpet...the metallic bow gave me more of an '80s vibe. But after her reveal and the bow unfurled...I loved it. The tiara, the gloves, the designs on the dress. I loved it all and seemed like a love note to New York City. Blake is one of the ones who gets to envision an idea and talk to a designer and make it come to life. She really did have a big hand in designing this with Versace and you can tell by the amount of pride she had when breaking the dress elements down. And bonus points: the Statue of Liberty arrived in 1885, right in the middle of the gilded age time period.

Billie Eilish is my runner up. She took the theme to heart. I love that she asked Gucci to use upcycled materials. I don't have anything else to add because she's the only one who literally went with the theme and I applaud her.

Chloe Grace Moretz in Louis Vuitton. Even though I didn't like the LV girls as a whole, Chloe is the exception for me. I loved the nod to men's fashion in the gilded age and I wished more men actually went this route.

Rosalía in Givenchy. The glasses annoyed me. But I do love the dress. The nod to gigot sleeves are probably what make the look for me.

I also really loved Carey Mulligan's Schiaparelli dress. I think she flew under the radar because while the dress might be safe, I do love the nod to gilded equaling gold and gilded aged fashion. And while I'm surprised at how tame it is, considering Schiaparelli's looks can be way out there, I think it was a lovely mixture of gilded age fashion in a modern look.

And finally, the Cinderella story of the night: Genesis Suero wearing Lucia Rodriguez. Flawless. The dress fit the theme. And like so many people who stopped reading the theme after the word 'gilded' and just said, GOLD EVERYTHING...Genesis had a 2-for-1. A gorgeous golden gilded age dress.

I had high hopes for this gala and the theme, since historical shows are so popular right now. And I was even willing to overlook people disregarding the era of the theme and thinking it just meant they had to be dripping in gold. But I could not believe the amount of people who thought this theme included the roaring '20s or the golden age of Hollywood. Once again, the best Met Gala by far, was 2018's Heavenly Bodies, and I'm disappointed that more people didn't show up with high neck, bustles, gloves, and lace.

Thanks for asking! Sorry this turned into a novel. I guess I'm very passionate about the Met Gala.

#met gala #best dressed #met gala 2022 #ask me anything

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asexualenjolras · 30 days

Text

I've had some time to process since seeing Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire and there is one thing that I now know more sure and that is this: the Dr. Ray Stantz that we saw in this film would absolutely NEVER have said Egon Spengler could rot in Hell, and he'd never have not believed his best friend when he was saying Gozer was coming back.

We saw that he was still the excitable Ghostbuster we all know and love from the original films in this movie, and we saw that he never wanted to retire from ghostbusting at all. He even goes head to head with Winston about it being the thing he wanted to do with his "golden years".

So, why would he have pushed Egon away and called him crazy? The answer is he wouldn't have. And I still refuse to accept that there wasn't some sort of plot that they both shared together.

Egon and Ray were ALWAYS on the same page in the original films; they understood one another on such a deep level and it's one of my favourite things about the films. I was so, so heartbroken by the direction they decided to take their relationship in Afterlife.

And after seeing how smiley Ray is about Phoebe following in Egon's footsteps, it's just impossible to me that he would EVER turn his back on Egon under any circumstances.

And I know, logically, that it was for the plot. I know it was for the angst and the drama that Hollywood always desires.

As a fan of Egon and Ray's relationship and close bond thought, I refuse to accept it.

And I will continue to work with the headcanon that Ray was involved in Egon's plot all along. I'm still convinced that Ray was the one that told Egon to head to the farm and write the Bible quote outside the dirtfarm while he worked from New York.

I love Egon and Ray; they're the best representation of an autism/autism relationship. And they understood each other so deeply.

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #ray stantz #egon spengler #ghostbusters afterlife #dan aykroyd #harold ramis #ghostbusters frozen empire spoilers #autism #autistic #actually autistic #stantzler

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hooked-on-elvis · 3 months

Text

ELVIS interviewed during filming of 'Change of Habit'

— AMONG OTHER THINGS, YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT HOW ELVIS DID SOME IMPROVISATION IN HIS LINES FOR THE MOVIES AND HOW SELF CONSCIOUS HE WAS ABOUT HIS OWN FILMS

Filmed on location in the Los Angeles area and at Universal Studios during March and April 1969, Change of Habit was released in the United States on November 10, 1969.

Elvis Presley On Set: You Won’t ask Elvis Anything Too Deep?

Elvis talks, but he doesn't say much

BY WILLIAM OTTERBURN-HALL HOLLYWOOD – The notice outside the big grey double-doors was simple and to the point. SET CLOSED, ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE. You find notices like this outside a lot of film studios, and they tend to have a certain elasticity. This one, outside what looked like an aircraft hangar but was actually Stage D at Universal Studios, meant it. Inside, Elvis Presley was filming. And where Elvis goes, the barriers go up as if some sinister germ warfare experiment were being carried on within. Like a suckling infant, he is swathed and coddled against the realities of the world outside, as if he were made of rare porcelain rather than hewn from good old-fashioned Tennessee stock. But this day he was on show. I had been given the magic formula. The secret open-sesame known only by its brand name of “Colonel Parker’s Okay” had been handed me. The doors swung wide, and I was in. They say Colonel Parker is the man who built Elvis from the erotic gyrating days of the swiveling Pelvis through 14 long and fruitful summers to his present status, by pushing and pulling his protege through the tricky cross-currents of pop music taste. I wouldn’t know. I had asked to see him, this onetime Texas fairground barker, to thank him for the green light. But he was always somewhere else. In his office at Universal, over at Metro, down in Palm Springs, in Las Vegas to lay the trail for the next live show... always somewhere else. No matter. Who needed Colonel Parker when Elvis himself was alive and well and filming? The Publicity Man who escorted me as close as if he were handcuffed said proudly: “I’d like to work with him again, he’s so sweet and uncomplicated. I was surprised you got through – no one’s talked to him yet, you know. There must have been a good breeze blowing.” The good breeze continued to blow as far as the set. A mauve-walled pad with kitchen adjacent and a king-size bed visible through half-drawn yellow curtains. Elvis sat at a table, staring at his hands, while three mini-skirted girls, Mary Tyler Moore, Barbara McNair and Jane Elliott, scurried around with trays of food.

L-R: Mary Tyler Moore, Jane Elliott and Barbara McNair.

The film is about three nuns who pose as nurses to “identify with the people” in a Negro ghetto in New York. The title is Change of Habit (yes, it is) and stars Elvis as a medic who falls for one of the nuns. Elvis is wearing a paint-stained blue denim shirt and tight blue jeans. He looks relaxed and affable and rather meatier around the jaw-line than one remembers from previous films. Marriage (back in May 1967 to Priscilla Beaulieu) is obviously agreeing with him. His eyes have that smoky slow-burn of the old-time movie vamp. He seizes a guitar and strums a few chords. It’s the last week of shooting, and like the good days between exams and the end of term.

The atmosphere on the set is hip and loose, full of leather-clad youth and clever in-talk. The director is thin and intense, wears a check shirt and gym shoes, and is called Billy Graham, which is going to look interesting on the posters of a swinging nun. Elvis produces some dialogue. He is never likely to win an award as an actor, but he knows what the kids want and he gives it to them. The girls are talking about a party. The cameras turn. Elvis says: “You get a lot of people down here on a Saturday night, and all the old hates come out. Before you know it they’re bombed out of their skulls and you’ve got World War III on your hands.”

The scene is this one below. NO, it was not cut out during the editing of this movie.

Earth-quaking stuff. But this simple homespun philosophy is off-key. “Bombed out of their skulls” wasn’t in the script. And the director isn’t too happy about it. “It’s a good line,” says Elvis. “Okay, okay,” says Billy Graham. The line stays. Maybe it will come out in the cutting room, but it’s there for now. “The whole thing is downhill,” says a technician. “He don’t talk to anyone, except his own friends.” There is no sign of tension, but then Elvis has nothing to be tense about. He can go on churning out the same thing for another decade, and they’ll still queue to see it. If he’s over the top, as some unkindly souls occasionally try to make out, he doesn’t seem bothered. He is 34 . . . Raised in Memphis . . . Once a truck-driver, stumbled into records, took the world by storm as the original snake-hips . . . Now lives in cloistered seclusion in a colonial mansion near Nashville, with a Rolls, a solid gold Cadillac, a wife, a daughter (Lisa Marie, aged one) and several bodyguards for company . . . Has made 29 films, grossing 220 million dollars at the box office, and sold more than 200 million records.

Elvis Presley and director William A. Graham on the set of Change Of Habit (Universal 1969) between takes.

Elvis heads for his trailer in the far corner. A group of friends (known in some quarters as the Memphis Mafia) close around him like a football scrum after a loose ball. The code-word is given. I am beckoned over. The good breeze was still blowing. “You won’t probe too deep, will you?” The Publicity Man asks anxiously. “This is just an informal chat, that’s the deal. So keep it light and airy, okay?” Well . . . okay. I checked my notes. Does Elvis fly high on acid trips? Does he see himself as a prophet for the new generation? Does he think his style is too square? Does he have any sexual hang-ups? His marriage altered his attitude to life in any way? Does he kick his cat? Does he have a cat to kick? What are his views on pop, religion, hippies, demonstrators, Vietnam? Stuff like that. No, I wasn’t going to probe too deep. In the dressing room Elvis shakes hands in a firm grip. “This is Charlie, this is Doc.” Two small, burly men light leather jackets and open-neck shirts rise and shine briefly and subside again. The trailer feels a bit crowded.

Elvis Presley on the set of Change Of Habit (Universal 1969). Mary Tyler Moore, Elvis and director William A. Graham share a joke between takes.

Elvis talks. He speaks slowly and carefully, and puts a lot of space between his words. “The film? Uh, well . . . it’s a change of pace for me, yeah. It’s more serious than my usual movies, but it don’t mean I’m aiming for a big dramatic acting scene, no sir. The way I’m headed, I want to try something different now, but not too different. I did this film because the script was good, and I guess I know by now what the public goes for." “Most of the scripts that come my way are all the same. They’ve all got a load of songs in them, but I just did a Western called 'Charro', which hasn’t any songs ‘cepting the title tune. It did have a couple of nude scenes, but they’ve been cut. Anyhow, can you imagine a dramatic Western where the hero breaks out into song all the time?” He has said plenty, and now he leaps to his feet, hands flashing to imaginary holsters, and sings in a deep drawl: “Go for your guns . . . you’ve got ’til sundown to get outa town . . . ” It could be the start of a promising sketch. The others follow suit, singing, clowning, all on their feet. If this is the Memphis Mafia, they’re a friendly bunch.

Elvis on set of 'Change of Habit' (Universal 1969) talking to fans.

Elvis sits down, and everyone stops singing. He eyes himself in the dressing room mirror. “I don’t plan too far ahead, but I’m real busy for a while now. I’ve got a date in Vegas, and maybe another film after that. Then I’m going to try to get to Europe, because I’ve always promised I would and I’ve got some good, faithful fans over there.” Slow-talking Elvis may be. But he certainly isn’t the slow-witted hick from the backwoods his detractors make out. If he is, then he’s a better actor than they give him credit for. Get through to him, and you find a pleasant, honest, not-too-articulate hometown boy who has been protected for his own good from the hysterical periphery of his present world. The party was warming up. Elvis cracked a gag. Charlie cracked a gag. There was a call from the door. Elvis was wanted, and the good breeze was still blowing as he made for the set, one hand on my shoulder. Charlie and Doc were all smiles.

Elvis and his manager, Colonel Parker, on set of 'Change of Habit' (Universal 1969).

“Okay?” said the P.M. “You did real fine.” "Well . . . not quite." I said. "This Colonel Parker, would he be around for a word later?" Elvis stopped in his tracks. The P.M. went a whiter shade of pale, and whispered something to a friend. The friend nodded in sympathy. “I must tell you about an experience I had like that once,” he said, eyeing me as if I’d just crawled out of the woodwork. Elvis said: “I think he’s in Palm Springs. I’m not sure...” He hurried off. The P.M. said: “Don’t let’s push our luck any more. We never trouble him for too long a time. You should be very happy. You had more than anyone’s had in years.” Somewhere along the line, unaccountably, the good breeze had dropped. This story is from the July 12th, 1969 issue of Rolling Stone.

Source: www.rollingstone.com

#elvis presley #elvis movies #change of habit #mary tyler moore #barbara mcnair #jane elliott #1969 #60s movies #1969 movies #elvis articles #elvis interview #rolling stone magazine #vintage articles #vintage magazine

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