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ginger-berrie · 5 days

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SO I JUST SAW FALSETTOS LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME

HOLY SHIT OKAY. HEY GUYS I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING FALSETTOS. LIVE. MY FAVOROITE MUSICAL EVER. I HAVE WORDS TO SAY.

So firstly I of course have to say this musical is fucking phenomenal and if u havent seen it even on youtube you HAVE to. onne of the best musicals ever wrutten. ignore any typos in this my hands r still shaking and im not editing htis. OKAY.

The actors. It was a college level production but the actors were so so talented. My favorite performances were from Mendel and Jason, who both pulled off their roles INCREDIBLY. Mendel was like a carbon copy of Brandon Uranowitz he had his mannerisms DOWN. All the nervous ticks, touching his face, being generally so awkward all the time, even his face was just perfec t for the role. And Jason was played by an adult femme-presenting person but they were so good as him!!!!! their voice fit him perfectly and she also perfectly encompassed Jason;s awkward childlike nature. The entire cast was incredible but those two really stood out to me!!!! Everyone's singing voices as well were fantastic, especially Trina's—she KILLED the high notes and even sung up the octave on a few lines !!!! including the "but still the bastard divorced me" and she still belted the "you must exorcise a devil" even AFTER Im Breaking Down. In fucking sane.

THAT BEING SAID THOUGH. Even though i enjouyed every second of it I do wanna make some more analysis-related directing critiques because im fucked up and evil about this show . im so sorry just let me speak here meaout. Stating right now though I've only seen the 2016 revival (about 2 dozen times) and not the original 90's version (been meaning to watch it just havent gotten the chance) so i reserve all TRUE judgement until after I see it!!! maybe some of these choices were in the original but tbh if they were i still like how the revival did it better. okay i swear im not just one of those ppl who is like "tHaTS noT hOw ThEY dId iT On BroADwAy" calm down. thanks <3

First of all. Some of the scenes lacked energy !!!!! Thrill of first love had no homoerotic choreography!!!!! they just kinda sat there on the couch looking morose and barely looking at each other as if they truly just hate each other and feel ANYthing towards each other anymore at all. But thats not the point!!!!!! They dont fully hate each other theyre just lacking the excitement that they once had and it's been replaced with nothing but disagreements and sex. When Whizzer and Marvin do their gay little dance theyre not just dancing and being gross and sexual theyre also FIGHTING!!!! they still care about each other they just dont know how to act!!!! and marvin's a bitch of course. Marvin was still very much a bitch. But because of the lack of energy in this song there was a bit of a lack of chemistry between the two as well, which carried through the whole show. I feel like it's important to see just how gross fucked up n nasty these two are about each other to see how its truly affecting the other people in Marvin's life. Even their chemistry during the chess game was lacking. They just kinda felt like they really hated each other. Which isnt the pointtttttt. Guh

Trina (or the directors idk) also made some choices I wasn't 100% on board with but they were more subtle. Mostly in her tone about Mendel. Up through Please Come To Our House she seemed to really really like Mendel. Like it was clear she was attempting to woo him. But then when he was proposing, and when they were maknig their home together, she just seemed. Unenthused. I know Trina truly doesn't really love her life, and just needs the stability of a nuclear family, but it was odd to see her not even attempt to keep up the facade on her own. Her and Mendel were similarly lacking in a lot of chemistry because of this, which, maybe to some of you makes sense but to me i do want to see them be close even if Mendel isn't absolutely the best.

LAST CRITIQUE OKAY. This one is BIG SPOILERS if u havent seen it yet but probably if ur reading this far youve already seen it okay. The fuckign bar mitzvah!!!!! There was no acknowledgement from Whizzer to Jason as he was reading his Torah !!!!!!! He just layed there in the hospital bed, facing AWAY from the audience so we could only see the very top of his head (which was on purpose for a quick change but) and he didnt get up at all to thank Jason or even acknowledge him :( for all the audience knows maybe he didnt even see Jason get bar mitzvahd. screaming crying throwing up.

OKAY IM DONE W BEING MEAN HERES A BIG CHANGE I REALLY LOVED !!!!!! as well as some smaller changes that i also really liked or were jsut neutral things i noticed

For most of act 2, up until Days Like This, They had this really cool circus imagery? Now once again idk if this is in the OG, but they had a picture of each cluster of characters set up on either side of the stage, and each of them was doing some sort of circus act both in the pictures and on stage, especially during A Day in Falsettoland. When a character was having their point in the song, they'd sometimes cut the lights briefly and suddenly the characters would be struggling to perform their little circus act, and each of them had a differnt one respectively and they all represented their immaturities/flaws/struggles:

Jason was on stilts, representing his need to grow up and perhaps his perceived mental maturity compared to the other characters

Trina was balancing/spinning plates on sticks, representing her need to keep balance and order in her life

Marvin + Whizzer were fencers because of their lingering animosity, yet newfound respect, for one another. Fencing isnt a dangerous sport, like you dont actually hurt your opponent in it, but it;s still a fight and youre still pointoing a weapon at them. guh. (AND BTW they did this during the racquetball scene and HOLY SHIT. I just gotta describe this one. Racquetball number 1 They had their little racquets as they were singing to each other but then when they got really into the game the lights would cut and then theyd be FENCING each other instead!!!!! and then the lights would cut again and itd go back to racquetball!!!! BUT THEN in the racquetball number 2 when it cut to them fencing ONLY MARVIN HAD A SWORD. WHIZZER STILL HAD HIS RACQUET. GIUUHUHGGHGHGHGHGH.;..,.,/;;'.';.;'[[[.)

Then the lesbians from next door were like a duo balancing/acrobatics act where they were always leaning on each other and picking each other up which was cute but also like. Charlotte would start falling in one direction and Cordelia would have to scrambke to catch her. I always hail them as the healthiest couple in the show but sometimes i forget they have problems too, like Cordelia;s insecurity and Charlotte's stress over the virus of course.

And finally Mendel!!!! was the fucking ringmaster!!!!! He had a hoop and a top hat and every time he was trying to calm down Jason (Everyone Hates His Parents), or Caroline, or Trina (A Day in Falsettoland), he would appear with his hoop and top hat, to show that HE is the one who needs to "control" other people's lives, or at least he feels the need to direct them. Mendel of course needs to feel like he's smarter than everyone else and like he's the only one who can help people. It really drove that home and it was an insane realization to come to. Phenomenal directing choice idk who came up with that but. bravissimo to you

Now miscellaneous stuff i liked or noticed!!!

They didn't have the big ol foam block. just some couch ends that they moved around to be diff pieces of furniture. If you've ever seen Waiting In The Wings' analysis on falsettos you might have seen a comment in the youtube section discussing how in the set design for the revival, the lack of real furniture through most of the show represents the lack of maturity of the characters, and as things get serious for them, more real props and set pieces get added. Like the chess board, the decor for Mendel + Trina's home, Whizzer's suitcase, the whole hospital room, etc. They didn't lean into that with this but i think that's fine! its not a necessary detail in my opinion and they did their best with what they had!!

Marvin didn't hand whizzer the suitcase after the chess game. He just grabbed it, and packed it himself. I was waiting for him to slam it into whizzer's chest or something. but no. Whizzer just picked it up and walked off. okay. Neutral bad change imo

Marvin's performances of What would I do and What more can i Say were. Breathtaking. Marvin actor if you're out there reading this your voice is lovely and carries so much emotion in your solo numbers. I Did Cry. a little bit

god their group number harmonies were AMAZING. All of the cast members' voices blended together so well and it was absolutely beautiful. the whole show was beautiful and i adored it i swear. I jsut need somwhere to put my feelings

THE ORCHESTRA FUCKED. IT FUCKED

Okay its getting late now and im fading quickly BUT IF U READ THIS FAR UR INSANE. This is for me and nobody else i just eneded to feelings dump. tl;dr: i fucking lvoe falsettos this was one of the best nights of my life i love you actors i love you pit i love you lighting i love you run crew i love you sound crew i love you musical theatre

#falsettos #falsettos 2016 #musicals #musical theater #musical review #rambles #ramblings #shiksa caterer #short insomniacs #hypochondriacs #yiddish americans #spiky families #radiologist #intellectuals #nervous wrecks #sigh #falsettoland

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chronically-ghosted · 2 months

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you got your claws in me honey, like a tiger in love

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

summary: you arrive at your estranged uncle's door. what else is there to do but catch up over grilled cheese? well, if you have anything to say about it, you might end up doing a bit more.

warnings: dbf!dieter, grilled cheese as a way to guilt trip your dad's best friend/uncle into fucking you, drug use (weed), raising arizona that comes with its own warning, flirting with someone twice your age, no smut — that’s what part 2 is for, reminiscing, a cliffhanger? 👀

a/n: the original fic came out MONTHS before the mcu rumors, so either i have precognition, or the apocalypse is becoming predicable. happy valentine's day you filthy animals because nothing says romance like porking your dad's best friend

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From the voicemail of Mr. Paul Landeau, official Hollywood talent manager and agent to one Mr. Dieter Bravo . . .

Tuesday, 6:43PM

No, I’m not doing it. I’m not.

There has to be something else out there. Look, I know Fire Monsters: A Cliff Beasts story didn’t do as well as we hoped, but Reddit says it could be a cult classic so why don’t you focus on making that happen, okay? Instead of giving me shit roles like this. I’m not doing it.

– the sound of a door opening and the phone being shuffled – – a zipper rips – – liquid pouring –

We fucking talked about this, man. I told you I needed something different, something new. Tiktok is just reels of me screaming and dying – it’s fucking bullshit –

– more liquid –

I’m done playing the fucking bad guy. I’m not signing any more headless action figures for those little snot-nosed, little fuckers in line. I’m not asking to sign their moms’ tits, either – okay, maybe – but Jesus Christ, Paul, what you sent over is, like, the opposite of where I need to be. It’s for little teeny boppers with one or two B horror movies under their belt to finally break out into the mainstream – or where actors over forty go to cash in an easy paycheck. And yes, I fucking know we need something, but fuck – is this really all there is?

– liquid stops pouring – – zipper rips – – the sound of a toilet flushing –

Don’t fucking call me back, Paul, unless you’ve got something. Something real.

Tuesday, 8:23PM

OW! Motherf–

– a skillet clattering –

Okay – fuck, that hurts – okay, Paul, what about this? It came to me in the bathroom. Remember Jack from the Christmas party at the studio’s place? So, he’s got those two Sundance films, right, but they’re in Spanish, so not appealing to an American audience. Nicki told me that he’s thinking about doing another project, one with a wider appeal, and I’m thinking I should totally give him a call. I think we could vibe. I really liked his stuff – reminded me of my old small town, fucking around with the neighbor kids, you know? Kinda hometown hero sort of thing.

– sharp inhale then a cough –

It’s not my usual thing, but I think we should give it a try. Gimme a call.

Oh, do you know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich? Been craving one but I think I might burn down my house if I try again and UberEats doesn’t reach the good places further south. Oh, fuck, wait –

Hey Google, how do you make a fucking excellent grilled cheese?

Tuesday, 9:21PM

No, fucking–

Siri – how.do.you.treat.a.burn?

Calling. . . Burger King . . .

No! Fuck!

Tuesday, 10:49PM

Paul-y! Baby! Paul-ito!

Don’t worry. I got an idea that’s going to make us a million dollars.

A shop that makes only grilled cheese. But like – fancy grilled cheese. What do the kids fucking call it, ah – boogie – yeah, boogie grilled cheese. Like gouda and white cheddar, and butter churned by blind nuns or some shit. Tomato soups that have been blessed by the Dalai Lama.

Big sign out front that says, Vegans Can Eat Shit.

They’ll eat it up.

Fuck yeah, they will.

– silence for three minutes and sixteen seconds –

Fuck acting, man. Fuck this place.

And fuck this fucking cheese that keeps burning – goddamn it!

Tuesday, 11:52PM

Paul, why don’t we hang out anymore?

When I got started, we hung out all the time, man.

Hot dogs on the Santa Monica pier. Beer in the Pacific Ocean.

You showed me all the cool spots that no one else in LA knew about. You got me my first bump and my first stripper. God, that was fucking wild, man, you remember? I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. Did I ever tell you that before? Coke probably didn’t help a kid from a small town in South Cali, but – fuck, it made me feel better. Like I could get my shit together if I really tried.

What, are you too good for me now – is that it? Am I not good enough for you, huh?

Look, I’ve got Raising Arizona on right now, so why don’t you come over with a six pack –

Oh, shit, that’s right. You got a fucking family now.

Not a good influence, ol’ Dee.

Not a good –

Wednesday, 1:05AM

Fine, Paul. Fine.

I’ll play Mr. Fantastic in the Fantastic Four reboot.

Dieter’s thumb brushes the red End Call button and tosses his phone onto the kitchen island with a growl. He can feel himself coming down from the bump earlier – a thing he absolutely did not want to happen – and he shoves his palms into his eye sockets.

There is more coke upstairs, but that would require him to walk through his very long hallways to get there. Very long, and dark, and empty hallways.

He should have asked Maria to stay once she was done with the laundry. He would have done it right too – big bowl of popcorn, fully dressed, with a sign around his neck that said, I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you.

He is becoming increasingly aware of how many erratic voicemails he just left for his agent, aware that behavior like that was libel to get him a sit down in Paul’s office with all the blinds and windows closed, Paul’s narrow face serious and using Concerned Emotion #5, as he asks, “do we need to go back to rehab, Dieter?”

We.

There once was a “we”, now there was just “he” – in a house with seven bedrooms and a pool that could fit a sixteen wheeler in it.

And TWO kitchens – why the fuck did he think he needed two kitchens –

Well, he knew he didn’t need two, but it would have been cool to show them off to someone – If there was anyone to show them off to . . .

Fuck this downer mood.

Dieter snatches up his phone again, and the movement brings up his latest apps. UberEats is the second one. He taps in a few keywords, blatantly ignoring his latest call list.

Goddamn Burger King . . .

The front doorbell rings.

Dieter frowns, pulling the screen closer under his big nose. Now, he knows he is high and he knows he should be wearing his glasses when reading but there’s no fucking way . . .

He goes out of the kitchen, the room still smelling of burnt cheese with the cast iron skillet in the sink and a black husk sticking to its bottom. He goes left, then right, his robe tightly wrapped around him as if he is some huffy housewife, then down a hall and across the marble entrance way – fuming – why is this house so goddamn huge – who thought this was a good idea?

And so he wrenches open the front door – to a girl, not holding a Burger King bag. No, she’s got a roller suitcase behind her, bright blue, and she and the case are dripping wet. Like, just sprayed with a hose kind of wet and her big bottom lip is trembling. Behind her, the sky pukes buckets of rain, groaning with thunder.

Now, he likes his call girls (he always thought it was classier to call them that) a little more . . . vampy than this, but hell, he had been turned on by much less than this— than her with her big eyes, fat droplets rolling off her lashes, flushed cheeks – and oh, shit, her shirt is totally see-through – is that purple, he feels the back of his mouth flush with spit – wow, is this Paul’s way of apology because –

“Uncle Dee?”

And he’s mentally shoving himself back into his pants because no one in years has called him that and that was a very different time in place, when he was a completely different person and if this girl is the person he thinks it is, then – Jesus Christ, he’s bound and gagged straight for hell –

He squeaks out your name and you smile, sort of grimace, at him and wave.

“Yep, it’s me. Been awhile, right?” You finally give into the mortification of your stupid plan and you scrunch up your face, your hand wrapped around your elbow. “Look, I’m so sorry, this is too weird. I don’t have your number, but I panicked when my flight got canceled and my phone’s dead and you’re the only person I know in LA and –,”

“No, no – you’re fine – sorry–,” Dieter blinks before stepping back and letting you through. You sigh in relief and yank your baby blue suitcase over the threshold as you walk in, dripping water everywhere. “Sorry, it’s been a weird night and for, like, two seconds, I thought . . . nevermind . . .”

I thought you were a fucking ghost.

You bite the corner of your lip, glancing at him, knowing it was probably unwise to piss off your one chance at not sleeping on the ground tonight — or if what you were about to say would piss him off in the first place.

“Yeah, well, it’s been eleven years since we last saw you, Uncle Dee.”

Early on in his career, he wanted to build up rep as not only an actor but a real tough guy, so he asked if he could do some stunts for an old cop show. For all his bravado, he ended up getting a real round-house kick to the face and it sent him reeling.

This feels a little bit like that.

“No way, it can’t have been that long. Besides, I know I left my number with your dad or your grandma before I left and —,”

His throat closes up when very old guilt washes over him. It’s intensified when you give him an uncomfortable look.

“So your dad didn’t give you my number then.”

It’s not a question. You shake your head. You don’t tell him that your dad tried to call years ago and got a busy tone for the first few, and then a few years after that, was brusquely informed the line had been disconnected.

He chews on his lip.

You try to smile at him again but then another shiver takes hold of you and Dieter grimaces. “Shit, sorry, one second. I think this closet down here has towels.”

He all but sprint-walks down one of the many halls branching off from the entrance, the ends of his robes flapping. You hear the creak of doors, several, as he digs around in the walls.

“Why do I have so many fucking linens?” You hear him grumble and you smile to yourself. You feel like you need to wring your hair out but wouldn’t dare move from the spot where he left you.

After a thump and more grumbling, he comes back, rubbing the back of his head, but holding out a giant lime green towel. In the light, you can see the dark circles under his eyes when you take the towel and immediately go to stop your hair from dripping on the marble.

His brain is waffling, ping ponging, between his memories and what is standing right in front of him. This? This is the little girl, not his literal blood relative, but she’s Enrico’s kid – Enrico, a slugger and one hell of a outfielder since he was eight years old, whose mom made enchiladas like nobody else in the goddamn world – Enrico, whose house became like a second home, Ricky's family a better family than his own – this is the same girl who hoarded Skittles like a fiend, the same one who he took to the pool on the weekends in the summer, and the zoo during Thanksgiving break? This little girl –

– is the same girl who is all legs under damp denim, eyes that could make Cleopatra fly into a jealous rage, and a fucking rockstar smile?

And, holy shit, those tits –

Dude, you cannot be checking her out. Dig deep and fight your fucking caveman brain. You’ve fucked up a lot in your life and you cannot do that right now. You cannot do that to Enrico.

You cannot do that to her.

You notice him grimace as he squints into the light of the chandelier above you both. “So, uh, not that I mind, but, uh, what are you doing here? I mean –,”

You laugh and it seems to echo in the empty house. “No, that’s a fair question. I was on a flight back from looking at colleges out east and my flight got grounded in LAX because of the storm. I absolutely don’t have enough money to stay in a hotel or rent a car and drive back home, so I needed a place to crash and call my sister to send me some money. And my stupid driver didn’t want to get flagged for harassing a celebrity, so he dropped me off at the corner, hence . . .”

You wave at yourself and inside his slippers, his toes curl, respectfully not looking at your damp legs and a definitely purple bra visible through your shirt.

Your mouth suddenly capsizes. “Shit, is that okay, if I stay here for a night? I didn’t even think - I - I’m not . . . interrupting anything, am I?”

Dieter chuckles, your expression undeniably cute, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his robe.

“Nah. Not unless you call making the worst grilled cheese imaginable a party.”

At that moment, your stomach chooses to make the most aggressive growl in your entire life and you flush deeper than the cold outside.

“Apparently someone thinks that’s a good idea,” you chuckle weakly, horrified that your body is actively trying to sabotage a normal conversation.

Did it matter that you had posters of him in your bedroom when you were thirteen? That you went to midnight releases of every one of his movies?

No. Not at all.

“I got some food, mostly leftovers.” He worries at his lip as he realizes the only thing by way of something green in his fridge is the jar of olives he got for martinis. Even then, he has a sneaking suspicion he replaced the olive juice with vodka, but the memory of that night is entirely butchered. “But, uh, I’m sure we can find something.”

You smile at him. “Actually, grilled cheese sounds great.”

“Only if you do it.” He smiles, honestly, when you laugh. “What? Don’t laugh — I’m serious. I can’t make a sandwich to save my fucking life.”

“Pretty sure I can manage two slices of bread and cheese.”

His eyebrows jump as his lips press themselves together and you watch the thumb-sized bare spot on his beard twitch.

“Yeah, that’s what you think and then your goddamn kitchen is on fire.”

“Lemme change, do some rocket surgery and brain science, and then I’ll attempt to crack this grilled cheese thing.”

“Okay, but remember we do have Chinese leftovers and I can definitely crush a microwave. This way.”

You follow him through the halls, his shoulders loosening underneath the off-green fuzz, and you try and not to stare at the immaculately beautiful walls and expansive, clean floors, so your eyes wander, and then you’re trying not to stare at the immaculately beautiful man in front of you.

You push away the thought that this house looks nothing like you’d expect someone like Dieter to have, as he leads you to the kitchen — all black and chrome and steel, like what a Norwegian serial killer would have — and nods to a door towards the opposite wall. He’s digging around for the last slices of white bread when he says,

“Bathroom’s down there. I’ll get it all ready, but I’m leaving it up to you. Can’t afford to lose another pan.”

Your eyes finally drift down from the bare walls, unsure if you should be offended that nothing of the family back home is here, or accept that there was just nothing personal anywhere. You smile gently at him and nod in thanks.

He watches you go, that bright blue suitcase flashing as loud as a tornado siren, and he shakes his head. God, he needs a drink but drinking also makes him horny and he needs every mental facility available to him if he wis going to make it through this night with his sanity still intact.

Had it really been eleven years? He always meant to call up Enrico and the old neighborhood gang. He probably forgot about that last fight anyway – even if Dieter hadn’t – even if it wasn’t more than a decade ago. Mama Gonzales always said there’d be a place for him, even after his own father said acting was for maricos and drag queens. It always hurt more when the postcards from the Gonzales family stopped coming than when Mom stopped calling. And he always meant to send back a proper return address when he moved out of that crappy loft after his first real movie premiere but that was the 90s, and much of the 90s was spent between working shit jobs and drooling on the floors of rave warehouses. It wasn’t them specifically he didn’t want to see him like that, but anyone. Anyone who knew him before Dieter Bravo.

Certainly not anyone who called him Uncle Dee —

Something flashes in the corner of his eye and he realizes he’s always fucking hated the fact that the a) the back of his house is just one big window and b) he never bothered to put in curtains. Because, the thing with windows is they reflect things — things like his pseudo-niece taking her top off in his guest bathroom. Reflected and in full color right across his kitchen island like the sexiest hologram that will haunt his fucking wet dreams until the day hell freezes over.

Yep, that’s definitely your hips, your ribs, and okay—

Nope. Absolutely not.

Dieter’s knees give out and he crouches (more like slumps) to the floor behind the island, his palms so far in his eye sockets he can only see stars.

Yeah, only stars. Focus on the stars, not the image of the curve of your gorgeous tits that’s running around his brain like a child with scissors and a Thanatos instinct off the fucking charts.

Fuck, and he just wanted to get high and watch Nicholas Cage in a mullet.

“Hey, I’m done. Dee, you still here?”

He stifles a groan and stands up. You smile at him, the wet jeans and agonizing white tank top gone, only to be replaced by a black Fleetwood Mac tshirt and — fuck, where are your pants?

You lower the handle to your suitcase and go to stow by the bathroom door. And that’s when he realizes you are actually wearing pants, black shorts that are practically hidden by the oversized t-shirt and are comically, hilariously, painfully small. He can’t actually see the curve of your ass as you walk around the side of the island but he is absolutely not going to let his gaze linger long enough to confirm.

He clears his throat as you come to stand beside him. He gestures to the four pieces of white bread and a stack of Crafts American cheese.

“H-h-have —,” he clears his throat again and his forebearers groan collectively in embarrassment. “Have at it.”

You smile and tuck your hair over your ear before picking up the knife.

“D’you have mayonnaise? Butter?”

No amount of irredeemable hotness can distract him from that. “What? What do you need mayonnaise for? It’s grilled cheese.”

You cluck your tongue, an eyebrow raised. “Brain science and rocket surgery, remember? Don’t question the master.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he goes to his steel monolith of a fridge.

“Jeez, sorry, I asked,” he grumbles playfully.

He comes back with an (thankfully) unexpired jar and tub of butter and you get to work. Silence stretches a bit too long, something Dieter has never been good with, especially with beautiful women. He loves running his mouth and sometimes he's found that the women liked it too. He resigns himself to sit across from you at the island, watching you spread mayonnaise on both sides of the bread.

“So, uh, how are the folks? How’s your, uh, dad?”

You nod slowly and even though he hasn’t been around in eleven years to pick up on all your tells, he swears your hackles go up.

“Fine. All good. Dad’s still at the car repair shop — owns it now, actually. Makes decent money, I guess.”

“You guess?” He hadn’t made it his life’s work to mimic the human condition to not recognize cagey language.

You glance at him briefly before flipping over the last piece of bread and dropping a dollop of mayonnaise on top.

“Yeah. I — uh, we haven’t — I actually haven’t talked to them in a while. Though if I had, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” You sneak another glance, this one ladened with a smile that had a secret curled up in its corners. “Serves me right, probably.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

He can’t help but return the smile, one of a familiarity he hasn’t earned yet. You were smiling at him as if you two had years of secrets together, memories and inside jokes that were for the pair of you alone. For the life of him and all the water in his ridiculous pool, he couldn’t fathom why you were being so nice to him. Letting him off the hook. It had been eleven fucking years after all. There are a lot of things he takes guilt free from the world. Your fucking star-eyed smile is not one of them.

So, he lets you off the hook. He doesn’t push it. If you don’t want to talk about your folks, he is happy to chatter aimlessly about something else. But, his brain winds up, what happened that caused you to fall out with your parents? Enrico, even back then, had been a hard ass, with you and your brothers. Always made sure to walk the straight and narrow. Detested drugs, always shined his shoes, thought tattoos were the devil, never kissed a girl on the first date —

And here you are, making fucking mooneyes at his daughter.

Well, one thing was for sure, he muses, something warm spreading in his gut, you are nothing like your daddy.

The hiss of the bread hitting the hot butter in a pan (you didn’t even need to ask where another pan was, you just helped yourself to his cabinets and he couldn’t have been more proud) jerks him out of his daze and he realizes that annoying silence has set in again.

“So, colleges, huh? Anything in particular spark interest?”

You nod excitedly as he found a topic that made you glow. Clearly, no one had asked about your interests in a long time.

“Yeah, actually. Emerson in Boston was amazing. I loved the city, but not sure I’d survive the winter. Swarthmore sounds good, Amherst too, but again, cold.” You grin sheepishly and flip the sandwiches, pressing the spatula (he didn’t even know he owned one of those) into the bread, making the butter sizzle and the air fill with a smell that can only be described as mouth-watering.

“It’ll be a nightmare, taking out loans for those places, but fuck, I think I’d be really happy there.”

He leans against the counter, facing you with crossed arms. He smiles a smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What, your folks wouldn’t pay for it? Or at least help out?”

Something sharp flashes in your eyes, like a rabbit catching the scent of a predator, before you shrug your shoulders flippantly. A well-worn deflection, he notes, right next to the place where he’s got all the places you mentioned are about as far away from California as possible. If you had mentioned somewhere in Europe, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Nah. I wouldn’t let them. Don’t want them thinking they get input into my life because they hold the purse strings over my head.” You turn off the stove and he moves to get the plates out from the cabinets – something to contribute as you made him a better meal than he’s had in ages.

“So, uh, we eat in there?” You glance down the hall to the eerily clean dining room, a place he’s pretty sure he’s never once set foot in after three years of living in this goddamn mansion.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “C’mon, I already have a movie picked out.”

You follow him, plates hot, down carpeted stairs to clearly the only room in the house that Dieter actually lives in. The lights down here are low, much more bearable than the white spotlights of the kitchen. Against one wall, there’s a fully stocked bar, with most of the alcohol halfway empty and costing a fortune. Across from the stairs is a massive record collection, going up to the ceiling, next to a gorgeous old record player — all wood and black vinyl — with big, plushy earphones curled up on a black leather recliner.

But the star of the show is the wall-to-ceiling television, with a brown, mouse-soft leather sofa that wraps like a giddy, up-turned grin in front of it.

And of course, in between the superstar television and the cozy couch, is a low glass table where he had snorted lines of coke more times he could count and where a virgin joint sits, unsmoked and tempting.

Dieter flushes as though he’d been caught by his parents with his pants down around his ankles.

“Fuck, sorry–,” he rushes over, the plate clattering with the glass, and he reaches for the joint, ready to squish it into his pocket when–

You laugh. “Relax, Dee, I know what a joint is. In fact, we are very well acquainted.”

You fold yourself into the couch, legs crossed, grinning at him as you bite into your sandwich.

He swallows, unclenching slightly as he sits down next to you. He watches you eat for a moment, trying to think of something cool to say.

“Sounds like I’ve missed my calling as the fun uncle, getting you high for the first time and all that.”

You snort and swallow your mouthful. “Yeah, by like two fucking years.”

“Oh, what a fucking lifetime. You poor thing,” he says, pouting dramatically and you giggle again, bumping into his shoulder. It sends his sanity knocking around in his brain.

You don’t notice, though, your eyes falling to the joint in the small ceramic bowl. The smile slides from your face.

“Well, you might have missed my first joint, but I’d be more than happy to take this one as my next.”

His eyebrows practically bounce off his forehead. “You’re serious?”

Your eyes slide away from the joint to his, something distractingly dark hiding there. “I mean, if the parties on your Instagram are anything to go by . . . And, well, when in Rome . . .”

You trail off, smirking, gesturing around you as if you had any idea the levels of debauchery that were obtained in this very room. Come to think of it, he halfway considers picking you up off the couch and putting a towel down underneath your perfect ass.

This is how it went sometimes, with the slower hook ups. No wet clothes, or grilled cheese, or bringing up family trauma — but initial touches, curling smiles, and then drugs. Always drugs. As if there needed to be another hand that tore off the cap of the pressurized, fizzy soda bottle. He’d play music then, for them, to show off his vinyl collection and have a plausible reason to rub his dick between their ass cheeks while dancing slowly to something croon-y from the seventies.

Not that any of that would be happening with you.

He wasn’t a complete monster after all.

With a playful grin that he had mastered over many press junkets, he snatches up the joint and lighter, and presents both to you in the flat of his hand.

“First hit goes to you, since you were so kind to make dinner for an old fuck like me.”

You snort and put your plate onto the table, wiping your hands free of crumbs on your black shirt.

“Such a gentleman.”

With deft and practiced hands, you take the joint between your index finger and your thumb, and sparking the lighter, brought the flame to your lips.

Just for one second, one goddamn second, he swears he saw The Look reflected in your eyes. He glances away, his cock fluttering awake like goddamn Lassy hearing the calls of another well-begotten child. He picks up his own plate.

“Hardly. It was all a ploy to get you to admit you follow me on Instagram.”

You burst out coughing, smoke chugging from your nose and mouth. “Dieter!”

He cackles, his tongue between his teeth, as you shove him away from you — do not think about her fingers clenched around your bicep — try to sit up and inhale again. You hang your head and groan.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I said that.”

“Yeah, and for that, I get two puffs,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, the rest of it full of the most perfectly cooked grilled cheese sandwich he’d ever had. He finishes chewing and swallows. “Hand it over, princess.”

You hand over the lighter and the joint, the paper slightly greasy from your fingers, leaning back dramatically into one of the many plushy cup holder seats spread out along the very long couch.

He chuckles devilishly again, far too satisfied, as he lights up and leans back into the cushions.

“And, as gesture of goodwill, I’ll admit that’s a good fucking grilled cheese.”

Your eyes snap open and a wide grin splits your face. “Hell yes! Mayonnaise on both sides, butter on the side with cheese. Best family recipe. Mwah!”

“Fuck, even I know that’s too much cholesterol for me,” he grunts and digs into the cushions, feeling around for the remote.

“Well, that’s not enough cholesterol for me,” you wink as you take the joint from the hand on his thigh, eyes daring you to do something about it. Nowhere near high enough to take the bait, he just narrows his eyes at you as he clicks the button and the entertainment system comes to life with a primordial hum.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, eyes wide, as the speakers roar and the lights dim further and the screen glows, “it’s like I’m in a fucking movie theater . . . in space.”

“It’s great, right?” Dieter moans like a loving father over his first child. This thing is his pride and joy, the only thing he could stomach in this goddamn house.

The DVD buffer for Raising Arizona begins and you squeal quietly, sliding onto your back, the joint dangling between your lips.

“No fucking way, I love this movie.”

Dieter stilled. “Really? You do?”

The few times he felt nostalgic for his old life — his old, old life when he was still a kid from nowhere, a nobody, you couldn’t pick him out of a line up of his sweaty, grubby cousins when they were all cobbled together like crooked teeth in front of Abuela Josefina’s television that still had knobs and bunny ears to watch movie after movie of Nicholas Cage reruns. Even with knees in his back, elbows in his ears, Dieter could quote every single line, his heart swelling.

That’s gonna be me some day.

“This movie is from, like, another century,” he mutters as he watches you settle in, something sickening like adoration clawing up in his chest.

“Yeah and it’s great,” you say eagerly, ignoring the way he plucks the joint out of your fingers. “Put it on!”

He resolutely ignores the pinch in his low stomach at your almost whine and presseS the play button with a little more force than necessary. Then, balancing the joint on the ceramic bowl, he sticks his fingers into his robe, pulls out his glasses, and puts them on without a second thought – just as he always did when watching movies.

It is only when he realizes he doesn’t hear you breathing that he realizes what he has done. Slowly he pulls the square glasses off his face and looks at them, feeling as disgusted as the day his doctor put them in his hands.

Near-sighted. Very common. Happens when people as they age.

“Got ‘em–,” his throat closes again, “got ‘em a few years ago. Only have to wear ‘em to see things up close and, uh . . . Well, I think they make me look old as shit.”

He can’t quite look at you, unsure what he’ll see on your face and knowing for sure that he couldn’t stand it if it wasn’t the way you look at him before. If you just would tease him about it, then —

“No,” you say, your voice very soft and small. His heart nearly punches out his throat, his neck nearly snapping in half as his head whips up to look at you. You sit up on your elbows, the darkness of the room cushioning your soft cheeks and muting the glaze in your eyes as you watch him over the bend of your knees.

“Nah,” you say, your nose scrunching, the weight of the high clearly settling into your skin, “they make you look . . . Uh, they’re cute.”

Dieter sucks in the side of his cheek, nodding slowly and sliding the glasses back over his nose. Cute, he could work with that.

“Jeez, would you start the movie already?” You poke his side with your toe. He doesn’t need to look at you to hear the faint blush in your voice.

He turns the volume up and crosses his arms, smiling faintly. You’re warm next to him, he thinks vaguely, his own high finally starting to sink into his bones.

Cute. Definitely not a word he’s going to obsess over.

The movie goes on.

Nicholas Cage is Nicholas Cage with a mullet.

Your laugh is the clattering of bells in his ears and he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard his sides hurt.

He’s coming up from bent over, knees almost to his chest, laughter nearly popping his ribs, when he realizes your feet are in his lap. The arches of your soles, the delicate bones of your ankles, the long smooth planes that run up to your gorgeous calves—

They are there, in his lap, and you don’t seem to mind. Head turned towards the screen, face bright from laughing, your arm arched back over your head, pressing your chest up — it’s like you meant for them to be there.

It’s just one hand, right? Two at the most. Just putting his hands down where he had them a moment ago. Up and — down.

You don't flinch. His palm is on the arched top of your foot, the other just above your other ankle.

You do smile, but that might have been because of Nicholas Cage raging again.

And then, during another bout of giggles, he clutches your shin bone, wraps his fingers around your heel, and laughs and laughs and laughs.

You wipe the tears away from your eyes, the end credits rolling.

“Fuck, that’s a such a good movie.”

He swallows, swiping quickly under his glasses before taking them off and chucking them onto the table in front.

“You’re fucking right it is,” he says hoarsely, leaning forward and plucking up the last of the joint. He inhales, letting the smoke ease stifle the tears in the corner of his eyes, gulping down a breath before offering it to you.

You take it, distracted, eyes on the credits, the light from the screen glowing on your cheeks.

He presses up under your ankle with his middle finger. “What? You knew what was gonna happen, you’d said you’d seen it before.”

You nodded, still not looking at him.

He goes for a more direct approach. He pinches your calf, and you scowl, the light back in your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, a bit sharply. He’s not nearly done having fun with you, not nearly. You take another sip of smoke before setting the joint back on the table.

You huff, settling onto your back, pinching at your nails.

“Just . . . Nothing, it’s stupid.”

Dieter hums. He knows when to let him come to you. He taps the arch of your foot.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze nudges the joint on the table.

You grin. “Really good. Tingly. Warm. Like everything else is a million miles away.”

Just the two of us.

“Enough to tell ol’ Uncle Dee what’s on your mind?”

You roll your eyes and sit up a bit, yanking a pillow behind you.

“Just thinkin’ about the old days, I guess.” You glance up at him from under your eyes. “Not in a bad way. At all. I just . . .”

“What?” If you gave him hell for the last eleven years, then fuck it, he deserved it. He pulls at your ankle. “What?”

With a big sigh, you lean back, something finally breaking and, with it, comes a great big smile.

“Okay, remember when you’d put on those plays with the rest of us kids during those super lame family reunions o-o-or Christmas? Marissa would have everything written out, all the cousins cast and you’d beg her to let you play – fucking – Bear Number 5 or something ridiculous – and she’d fight you on it but she’d relent, always putting on a show of her own – as if a ten year old could be put out like that.” You giggled, biting on your thumb, a sparkling in your eyes that made something in his chest burn.

Yes, he remembers the incredibly stupid fuzzy ears and the bear claw mittens. The fake roaring. TMZ would have a fucking stroke if those pictures of him, baby-faced, were to ever surface online. He smiles at you and basks in the warmth of those memories, his high making them brighter.

“I think it would have crushed her little heart if you didn’t ask,” you said, heavy-lidded eyes on you again. “I know it broke her when you stopped showing up at all.”

His heart actually pinches at that. He knows you’re not scolding him but fuck, maybe he’d feel better if you did. What a fucking idiot he was, for leaving all of that for empty mansions and meals from UberEats and all this fucking gunked up shit in his veins that made him feel older and older every year. Like he was chasing something that was never real in the first place.

“Look, honey,” the pet name is out of his mouth before he can stop it. He’s twisting towards you, both hands under your calves now. “I should have called. Should have made sure that at least you knew where to find me, even if things between your dad and I were fucked.”

“Oh, God, Dee, no. I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame my dad, sometimes. You just were very different people. He’s fine living his life in the same small ass town in the middle of nowhere. But you weren’t. And, fuck . . . I’m not either.”

He frowns. You bite your lip and continue.

“You know, I thought about following you out to Hollywood. Because of those plays. I had the best fucking time doing them and Hollywood didn’t seem so scary . . . with Uncle Dee out here. But, uh, I dunno. I grew up, I guess. Figured I was better at telling stories than performing them. I just knew I didn’t want to end up like my dad. Dying where I lived. Unremembered.”

His gut doubles in on itself. Please don’t say you gave up your dreams because I stopped calling.

“Do you still think about acting?” He asks quietly, trying to fight the faint ringing in his ears.

“Oh God, no,” you wave your hands, dusting away his near-panic that he’d somehow ruined your life. “I really do prefer writing stories, even if they exist only within the pages of a book. Or a really bad pamphlet, once or twice. I tried to continue the plays at home for a few years, after you left and Marissa took up cheerleading and thought she was too old to play with her little cousins anymore. But it just wasn’t the same without her. Or you.”

He realizes all too late that he can feel your pulse under your ankle. Strong. Pounding. Pounding, hard. Like you’re nervous. So struck by the notion that he can feel something so personal of yours, the smoke trapped in his brain lifts only slightly when he catches your eyes looking somewhere you absolutely should not be.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck, he knows that look. You blink at him, then your gaze slowly slides down, down to his crotch, as smoothly you can beneath the weight of the smoke in your brain and he battles between the desire to throw your legs off him or pull you underneath him.

It’s The Look.

Men, women, it didn’t matter. The look was the same.

When the possibility of sex first enters their mind, when that first bloom of lust rushes down their spine and the memory of the physical exertion of fucking – all the panting and the heavy breathing, aching muscles and sweat – comes back, as real as a song stuck in your head. When that spark of imagination threatens to sway from the hypothetical to the actual, it’s a look he knows so fucking well, he might as well be able to carve it from clay, blind-folded.

And you’re giving it to him, right now.

You haven’t really thought about seducing him yet, no, that part hasn’t crossed your mind yet. But you definitely are imagining what his cock would feel like inside you, and you and your imagination and your wide-eyed gaze at his lap all whole-heartedly agreed: that would be a great fucking thing.

You, on your elbows, your heel dangerously close to his half-hard cock, the glaze in your eyes having something to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing, and your short breath having everything to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing.

He was quite sure you were completely unaware of the expression your face was making. Eyes hooded, mouth parted, breath short. Masking your emotions and filthy thoughts is a skill set mastered later in life and perhaps the last time you looked at someone like that, they simply bent you over the nearest surface and railed you till your knees buckled.

What a fucking excellent idea, his libido trilled. Now get off the couch and do something about it. I’m foaming at the fucking mouth here, man.

Dieter silences his inner horny monster, unintentionally squeezing his hand, the one that happens to be wrapped around your calf.

The movement seems to break you out of your dizzying spiral and you blink up at him.

He swallows. With a half smirk on the edge of your lips that you try to not let him see, you take your feet out of his lap, then reach forward, your palm alarmingly high on his thigh as you take the joint from his fingers. Your eyes flash like warning signs.

DANGER. DANGER, WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.

“So, you gonna give me a tour of this place or what?”

End of Part 1 | Next

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the bubble fanfic #the bubble 2016 #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction

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venusstorm · 2 years

Text

More Than Friends

Part One

Fear. It drove apart your friendship with Chris, it prevented him from telling you how he feels, and after a big argument, you’re left wondering if he had ever even cared.

Note: Italics indicate past events

Warnings: 18+, sexual themes, angst, you’ll probably want to fight Chris after reading

Part Two <Series Masterlist> Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"What was I supposed to do?" You shout. Anger and resentment had filled your body to to the brim, just waiting to spew out and unleash onto the man before you.

"I don't fucking know! Not go and screw my costar that's for one!" Chris shouts.

You shake your head in astonishment. For years the two of you had been inseparable friends. You spent holidays with his family, he took you out every year on your birthday, he was the first person you'd call if something went wrong. Most of all, he was the one person that you ever truly loved.

But after you mistakenly confessed your feelings, it all went down hill.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"I love you," you whispered. Too fearful to make eye contact with Chris, you turned away to face the wall.

"Y/N..." he trailed off.

"I know it's terrible timing but I had to tell you before you left. It's been eating me alive and—"

"You know I love you...just not in that way," he said quietly. You feel the touch of his hand graze your shoulder as he continues. "We wouldn't make sense."

You shook your head with confusion, "what do you mean we wouldn't make sense?"

"We're amazing as friends, anything more would just be...unrealistic."

Your heart snapped. Months of waiting for the right moment to express your feelings all came down to this moment. Years of watching him go from partner to partner, complaining about how he can never find "the one," all while you were standing right there. Waiting for him. All of it was for nothing.

"Okay." You mouthed.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Those blue eyes of his would surely be staring at you with empathy and compassion. The last thing you needed was for him to feel sorry for you. How clueless could you be? If Chris wanted something more he would've done so by now.

Chris grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “I’ll see you when I get back okay,” he states.

Sighing, you nodded. He embraced you in one last hug, and if you didn’t know any better, you thought you’d seen tears fighting to fall from his eyes.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Not even a week after you confessed your feelings, Chris was seen making out with the lead actress of his new movie in London. They sat side by side in the park, a picnic spread around them as they smiled into each other's eyes.

Picnics were you and Chris’s thing. You’d drag him to the middle of some field, wildflowers sprouting everywhere and the sounds of birds cheerful noises filling your ears. He’d always bring the drinks and you’d bring an unnecessarily large amount of food. Music would blast from his speaker, but you always had control of what played. Honestly, it was your favorite thing to do in the world.

And seeing him have such an intimate one with someone else put a dagger into your heart.

At least it shook you out of the self pitying haze you had been trapped in all week. You knew at the moment that you could never be friends again. Your feelings were far too strong and heart to broken for it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You hadn't spoken to Chris in months. He'd text to check up on you, but eventually you stopped responding and he stopped asking. The only glimpses of his life you saw were on the Internet. Usually tabloids gawking about his newfound relationship with Lily James or the ridiculous Instagram stories he posted with his brother.

Despite this, you felt content. Sure you lost a friend, but you got a chance to figure yourself out. Your heart was no longer attached to a fleeting man, and instead it was free to roam as it pleased.

And roam it did.

See, as a production designer, being surrounded by talented (and gorgeous) actors was a usual. Hell, it's how you met Chris in the first place. But you hardly ever interacted with any of them. You were just another person passing them on set every day, praying that shooting goes smoothly.

So when Henry Cavill saw you standing by yourself, immersed in your cell phone, he insisted that he take you out for dinner. Apparently he had been gawking at you all week, amazed by how hardworking and beautiful you were.

Was it unprofessional? Perhaps. But were you gonna deny the god that is Henry Cavill? Hell no.

Dinner was fantastic, but what came after was even better. You found yourself stumbling into your apartment with his lips attached to yours. His hands fumbling to rip off your shirt and unclasp your lace bra.

You knew after he left that you'd probably never see him again. And you were perfectly okay with that. It just felt nice to let loose and let your heart roam free without any commitments. It was one night, and you thought you had heard the last of it...well until Chris came barging at your door a couple weeks later.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"He wasn't even your co-star at the time," you gritted. "And who do you think you are dictating my sex life."

"It's kind of my business when we're all talking about life and he goes on talking about 'some girl' he fucked the other day and how he had her screaming her lungs out. Then he went on talking about how he should've gotten her number and some other bullshit. And the moment he started describing the way she looked and how he met her...I knew it was you.

"He wanted my number?" You smile. But then suddenly what he said clicked in your brain. "You all were talking about life? And Henry just so happened to bring me up?"

Chris glances away, already knowing what question you're going to ask next.

"So all of you were talking about people you recently fucked? Or just Henry?”

He knew you were asking if he too was going into detail about his sex life. You were pointing out his hypocrisy but Chris was too red with anger to care.

When Chris remains quiet you already knew your answer.

"That's not the point. How the fuck am I supposed to do an entire movie with someone after he told me in detail how he screwed my best friend?"

You flinch at the words "best friend." The two of you hadn't spoken in months, the title of "best friend" was long gone.

"Easy. Just act like it never happened," you snapped. "You seem to be good at that anyways."

Chris's face hardens. "Was this payback?"

Your hands flew into the air forcefully. "No it wasn't payback! Is it so hard to believe that someone like Henry would be interested in me?"

"Of course not! Stop making this into something it's not."

"Do you understand how much it hurt seeing you with somebody else right after I confessed years worth of bottled up feelings to you? Do you know how fucking worthless I felt seeing those tabloids?"

Chris goes silent. The tension in his face releasing as he watches you speak.

"You were my best friend...even if you didn't feel the same way, we could've talked about it. But instead you left and ignored me for months as if none of it ever happened. So no, getting with Henry fucking Cavill was not payback, it was me finally doing something that I wanted and deserved."

He spoke your name slowly. Chris knew he was disappointing you over and over, and quickly he realized that his anger was only hurting you more.

You deserve the truth.

"Where the fuck is your girlfriend anyways? You're over here worried about me when Hollywood Insider has her plastered everywhere cozied up with Sebastian Stan! And he's supposed to be one of your closest friends too!"

Tears of anger begin to blur your vision.

Life was so much easier when you didn't have to see him. You were finally getting back on track, living how you want, and now all of that progress had come crashing down.

"It was a publicity stunt," he whispers. "We were never even together— I wanted to tell you, but my publicist advised against telling anyone. Even my family didn't know."

Your eyes narrow. "Did your publicist also say to not contact me at all?"

He releases a deep sigh, "She didn't want to risk it."

You didn't even have the energy to be upset anymore, only a numbing pain remained.

"Everyone already thought we were together. Same shit happened to Scarlett and I before she got married...hell, even happened when she was married. My publicist just didn't want to risk clashing headlines."

You simply nod, too exhausted to continue arguing. "Okay."

Chris waited for you to say more but it never came. "Okay? That's it?"

"Yes Chris. Okay. Okay you shoved me aside, okay you didn't love me how I love you, okay that you hate me for screwing Henry. Everything's fucking okay. Can you leave now?"

Chris didn't know what to say. You looked defeated, broken even, and it was all his fault. He wanted to reach out and grab you, hug you like none of this ever happened and you were still his best friend.

But he no longer had that luxury.

Part Two

#chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #best friends to lovers #chris evans character x reader

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Theatre actor x gn! Technical team! reader

GOD I MISS WRITING Also, I'm going to put names now. It's going to be confusing if I only used pronouns (just for me though, dunno 'bout yall!) Yandere! artist name: Arlen Yandere! dragon name: Vincent TW: Your usual yandere stuff, suggestive tones.

The actor lived for most of his life being praised for his talents. He's a talented man who can act, sing, and dance. He can memorize scripts as easy as breathing. He yearns for the spotlight, for the attention. He wants everyone's eyes on him.

Ignatius always heard of how stereotypical he was as a theatre kid, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to relish in the praises that was given to him as he entertained them with his genius. At first, he didn't care on who gives him attention. As long as he gets it, he's good. It was like his food and water, his sustenance, his reason to live. After all, being ignored by his parents all his life was enough of a reason to find attention from other people, right?

But his life shifted once he met you.

You're from the IT department in your University, then heard that the Theatre troupe needed a technical team asap. So you, with your friends, decided to apply for the job since it's extra credits and there's actually money from it. You're not one for theatrics, so plays didn't really interest you. You prefer movies really.

So because of this, you didn't give Ignatius the attention he wanted.

At first, Ignatius was okay with this. I mean, there's tons of people who can give him what he wants. He has a lot of loving and adoring fans after all.

But he's so bothered by the fact that you clapped a decibel or two lower than others, cheered softer than the others, and your eyes didn't shine with absolute adoration.

It was eating him alive.

Why was he so bothered by it? He wants to lash out at you, to shake your shoulders and to take you to the optometrist to get your eyes checked. Why weren't you cheering for him?!

You did, you absolutely did. But it's not enough for him. It's never enough.

Lights blinding, music so profound as it pounded away at his ears. Then with an inhale of oxygen, he started to sing. Ignatius' voice reverberated around the stage and into the audiences' heart as he sang a ballad disguised as a lament. His character was singing of a life could have been outside of his boring life before he died, about a life where he was Monique Gibeau, a hooker with heart of black charcoal. Ignatius embodied the character so well that people felt sentimental about their own lives of what could have been. He was that good of an actor. Yet, Ignatius' eyes only zeroed on you as you made sure that the instrumental didn't go wrong, or the spotlight remained on him, or that the lights didn't suddenly go off.

He wanted your gaze on his body as he danced on stage seductively, acting like a lustful hooker who always have something eventful happening in their life. No, in that moment, he is one, and he's craving one person and one person only, like how he craves opium.

Yet that person won't give him the time of the day, and the thought made him shiver. In excitement? Anger? Who knows what's going on his mind as he swayed his hips and his singing voice hit a note he usually finds difficult, with ease. And then, your eyes met him.

He shivered once more, biting back a moan as he finished his piece. Everyone erupted in great applause, including you. Yet, still, a decibel or two lower.

When did Ignatius get this needy? He doesn't want your attention, he needs it. Desperately.

And as he let the pleasure of having your attention on him sink in, he swore he'll do anything to get you to cheer for him, and only him.

I'm gonna do this right Show you I'm not moving

Your legs desperately pushed itself beyond its capabilities as you ran away. Your sweat marring your face as your heart pumped frantically. Your heartbeat overwhelmed you, but despite that, you can hear Ignatius' sweet voice sing a song from a recent role he got.

Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow Oh, I'm gonna love you so

Your loud breaths that your lungs produced from gulping air that it desperately needs echoed through the theatre hall. Your back was wet from sweat, and your front was wet with tears as you held back hiccups. You couldn't tell where Ignatius is at all. But your senses drank the affectionate words Ignatius is singing. It's supposed to be sweet, until you remembered how he killed half of the theatre troupe and landed half on the hospital from food poisoning.

It was a humble pie, deep dish even. To celebrate the new play they adapted. But they don't know he put an ungodly amount of Thallium in it. You didn't get to eat at all since you reasoned you were allergic to the pie. Of course Ignatius knew this. How could he not?

He needed to know who he was dealing with, of course. Whose attention he was desperate for.

You'll learn what I already know I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

He didn't like it when you didn't praise him, or didn't fawn over him like others. He absolutely hated it when you're so amicable towards others. So he had to do whatever it takes to solo your attention. He was so desperate for it.

When did his desperation turned to love? Even if you ask Ignatius, he won't know the answer at all. When was the line blurred? He also doesn't know. Not like you can answer him when he's desperately chasing you with chloroform and rope in his hands.

You slumped down in the Technical booth up top the theatre. The key to the door was clutched tightly in your hand. Grazing the palm and cutting it. The blood trickled down to your arm, making a faded red stream as your other hand covered your trembling mouth.

You can try, oh, but I I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

You suddenly got aware of how much of a bad idea it was to be locked up here in the booth. You have no exit, just the stairs that you swore creaked in all its metal glory. As if heavy footsteps stomped on it. He was close.

The door rattled for a bit, before it was kicked open. You screamed in terror as Ignatius obsessed eyes landed on yours. He grinned widely as he stalked towards you.

You cannot escape.

I can try, but I I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

Just give him the attention he desperately needs.

You don't have a choice.

#male yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere drabble

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redheadspark · 10 months

Note

can you do 14 with joseph quinn as b and reader as a 🥺

A/N - Awww I love this for Joe! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Confident

Summary - Joe finds his confidence all thanks to you.

Warnings -Just some fluff

“Come on now, I wanna see!”

“I don’t know if it’s gonna work, luv,”

“Please? For me?”

You heard a long almost dramatic sigh from the otherwise of the closet door, you were sitting on the bed and waiting with a hint of excitement and some nervousness. Why were you nervous when you weren’t the one who was going to be trying on a new swimsuit for the upcoming summer holiday. Your boyfriend was nervous which may have been strange to others, but not to you.

Joseph Quinn was one of the hottest rising stars, ever since he appeared on Stranger Things, he was getting so much attention it was making him dizzy for a brief moment in time. You saw all the compliments, accolades he was received, and there were all true in your opinion. You thought he was amazing to begin with, and to see him finally get the recognition that he desired after years of being on shows or in plays. He fought hard with everything he had to get where he was, and now he was going to reap the rewards.

One of the rewards as a vacation, out of Great Britain and in the sun for a few days. A proper summer holiday, away from the gray skies in England. It was going to be out in the Maldives, Joe got connections and a great deal through his agent to go out at a villa for a few days, wanting you to come not just because you were his girlfriend but as a thank you for being his number one supporter. Plus it was the one time he had a few days off from a schedules or appearances.

“Joe, I bet it’s okay. Let me see, please?” You tried again, folding your hands in your lap and being as patient as you can, “I just want to see if they fit or if we need to take them back to get another size,”

“The size is not an issue, luv,” The door opened and you finally saw him, the board shorts that he was wearing was perfectly on his hips and going halfway down his thighs. You could see how Joe got some muscle when he was training on his recent projects, including Stranger Things. Although he was skinny, you could tell he did some endurance and strength training just to keep up and stay active. Now that he looked great, muscles and all, you never minded having your eyes linger a bit longer.

Joe quite liked that actually, giving you a wink when you gave him the first look over in the shower.

“You look good!” You voiced as Joe was still looking uneasy about it, looking down at himself as you got up and gestured to the shorts, “The color looks good on you. And you can totally tell you were working out?”

“You can?” He asked, looking down at himself again with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes! What, you don’t believe me?” You asked him with a smirk, Joe looking up at him and seeing how you weren’t phased in what you said. Joe was confident in himself most of the time, not always, but most of the time. He was used to people telling him that he was amazing, an excellent actor, handsome and with humor. But you knew deep down he had those moments of insecurity, just like any other person in the spotlight would.

That was where you came in. You knew he was brilliant and talented, you knew he was kind and sweet, and you knew he was handsome in his own right. No need for the lights and makeup to alter his face or appearance, his own beauty was unique and rightfully his. So you would tell him all time how great he was, how wonderful he was, and how beautiful he was to you. It may have been sappy to others, but Joe loved it. He felt better and felt more confident when you would praise him for anything and everything he did.

It helped him grow,

“You are beyond handsome, Joseph Quinn,” you said to him, almost like a declaration as you got up from the bed and walked over to him, seeing him watch you with his own small smile. You stood right in front of him, gesturing to his body, “Personally, I think this swimsuit does not do enough justice in how you look. You’re a rockstar!”

“Come off it,” Joe said as he was trying not to grin so big to make you laugh.

“Seriously! You’re going to have to beat ladies off with a stick at this point,” you joked, seeing him roll his eyes as he wrapped you in his arms and hugged you tightly. You hugged him back, feeling him breathe out a big sigh of relief and content.

“I only have one lady I wish to impress,” He whispered in your ear, making you blush as he pulled away sightly to kiss the tip of your nose, “Thank you, luv. You make me happy by simply loving me, my weirdness and all,”

“Oh, you’re not weird, Joe,” You reminded him, “Clinical insane, yes. But not weird,”

Joe then pinched your side, having you laugh and try to squirm away as he was tickling you and keep you wrapped in his arms while doing so. That confidence that you knew he always had was back one again, all from your won confidence in him.

The summer holiday in Maldives was a hit, you and Joe enjoying your time under the sun and Joe getting tan line from the suit you got him.

The End

June Summer Prompts

#joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x oc #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine

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destinyc1020 · 5 months

Note

It’s just so exhausting hearing the same conversation from so called Tom fans every 3-5 business days. No one is saying that you guys need to love everything he does but it really does feel like some of you harp on every single thing about the man to a point it doesn’t feel like you’re fans. His agents, his friends, his family, just constant nitpicking. And I’ve never been in an fandom where people truly think they have a say or can control a grown ass man like this. And some of the criticism that you guys have are the same regurgitated criticism that film twitter bros have who have a gripe with MCU. It’s never actually productive or constructive. It sounds like you guys are mouth pieces for that sector who decided to hate Tom 2 years ago because they decided to hate Marvel and he went public with Z. It’s annoying. The man is one of the most successful unproblematic young actors of his generation. He keeps to himself and his family and friends and girlfriend but I swear there’s always this hate train going on him. You have to see how people can get tired of it especially when he’s done nothing to warrant the constant ragging.

Exactly Anon! 💯

It just gets old.... and exhausting 😩 And I think it mainly gets old not only because it's every 3-5 business days, but ALSO bcoz it's coming from people who supposedly call themselves fans of Tom. With fans like these, who needs enemies?? 🥴

It would be one thing if these people were open haters of Tom and just admitted it. Then the hate and constant nitpicking would at least make some SENSE (okay, you're not a fan of the dude.... got it).

But when it comes from so-called "fans" who are following a blog of someone who's obviously a FAN of Tom's, it just feels really weird to me....

Liiiiiiike....

Like you said, Tom is unproblematic, he minds his business, he works hard, he's talented, and he doesn't do anything wrong or offensive to anyone!

Atp, fans can't even enjoy any new project news for Tom, because fans of his are ready to complain 24/7. 🙄

The TCR Filming Announcement came out:

"Omg....I wish Tom didn't take this project on. It's just going to make people with DID look like monsters! Hollywood always does this! I wish Tom would drop this project." (Keep in mind, the series had not even started FILMING yet, let alone come out. 😒)

The FA Filming Announcement came out:

"Ugh!! I HAAAATE biopic films! I'm so sick and tired of them!! They're just Oscar bait films anyway..." 🙄

Tom Simply TALKS about a possible SM4 movie in the works later on down the line:

"I sure hope they don't do another trilogy. Tom needs to STOP playing Spiderman and do more serious indie films instead of getting sucked into SUCKY Sony and the MCU. He's being held back by his Spiderman contracts!!"

A simple TWEET comes out that Mark Wahlberg has said that the script for "Uncharted 2" is has been written:

"Nooooooo!!!! 😫 I hated that movie! It wasn't funny, it wasn't charming, and it wasn't even a 'good' action movie! I wish Tom would drop this franchise and do smthg else!" 😭

All it sounds like in Tom's fandom is this all the time.....

After a while, it just gets tiring.... 😓

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aurumacadicus · 1 year

Note

AU+ Pairing = Headcanons: Tony/Bucky and Space Opera AU

Me: I know exactly what a space opera is. Me: *looking it up* Turns out I didn't know what a space opera is.

Anyway I'm still obsessed with feline-alien Tony I guess.

Tony runs away from home and joins the Art Circuit--a special fleet of ships traveling from planet to planet to put on theatrical displays like plays, concerts, and ballets. It's all he's ever wanted to do, and quite frankly, he thinks royalty should be abolished anyway. Still, though, he can't really... do anything on stage. He wants to. More than anything, he wants to be able to sing on stage. He doesn't. He knows he'll be found by the mercenaries looking for him if he does. He aches with the desire to perform, but... it's better this way. He can do the stage stuff. Help with costume changes. Practice lines with the actors. He can be helpful. He can watch others succeed and know he helped them. Still. On opening night, Ms. Carter seems to understand that the show is something that makes him ache deeply. So she allows him to stand at the edge of the curtain, watching from the shadows as the packed audiences ooh and ahh over the actors on stage. Maybe one day, when he's older and doesn't fit any missing posters anymore, he could be out there. But usually it was better not to hope, and so he closed his eyes, and pretended it was him on the stage.

The Barnes family is famous for their work in the Art Circuit. Each ship has at least one of the Barnes family in it--Bucky's parents started in theater, and his sisters had each gone into the symphony, the ballet, and the opera. Bucky hadn't really had their artistic talent. He'd never actually wanted to be on the stage. But, he'd been around them since he was born, so he knows his way around the backstage and tech booths like the back of his hand. It's easy as breathing to slip into that role rather than try his hand at performing himself. He wonders, sometimes, if it was the correct decision. If his family things less of him. Then he remembers the day that Becca had come to him in tears because the stage manager wouldn't listen to her when she said she didn't feel safe in the hoist that would keep her aloft over the audience. How he'd patted her head, told her it would be okay, and then went and told his parents he was about to use the family name very aggressively. And with their blessing, he'd stormed onto the operatic ship and shamed the stage manager into checking every single piece of equipment. Ms. Carter finds out that the rigging was faulty and fires the stage manager on the spot. She makes Bucky the stage manager instead.

Bucky meets Tony on his first day. "He knows everything," Becca had said. "He'll help you." Tony does know everything. He knows who is playing what part, where everything on set should be, how to play the piano while it's being moved around (Bucky is experimenting with the set, and Tony is determined to see to it that the actors don't suffer for it), and when someone needs a break and needs to sit out. Bucky has no idea why Ms. Carter didn't make him stage manager, except that maybe she liked Bucky's willingness to punch someone to get things done, whereas Tony had simply planned on pulling on overnight and fixing everything while the stage manager was gone. He doesn't understand why Tony isn't on stage, either. Bucky's not sure what planet he's from (or even what part of the galaxy, Tony's that tight-lipped), but wherever he's from, he must be the most beautiful person there. He's heard Tony sing sometimes, too, when he thinks he's alone after the rest of the crew has gone back to their quarters to sleep. He's got a voice that could make angels weep. He's a good actor, too, from what Bucky's seen of Tony helping everyone with their lines, and Becca has gushed talked about how nice he is to all the younger actors. Why is Tony backstage, when he should be front and center? "That's Tony's spot," Ms. Carter tells Bucky, firmly but kindly, when he goes to stand in the wings to watch the opening of the show. Bucky doesn't understand much of anything, he thinks, as he steps back and watches Tony as his face fills with longing as he watches the crowd.

Apparently, some of the other ships have bad stage managers, too. Ms. Carter took one (1) year to vacation with her family in a resort planet and some guy named Pierce cut every corner imaginable. Ms. Carter is furious. Tony is mostly glad he's not on her warpath, instead simply taking her assignment to check everything out with a fine-tooth comb. It's good to keep busy. Mostly he just needs to do reports to get new parts. He's pleased, though, because Ms. Carter has said that he's fully approved to do improvements. He tries to keep his improvements moderate. He doesn't want to do anything too expensive. Bucky is helping him, mostly by taking notes. He looks like he understands one out of three words Tony is saying, but also like it doesn't bother him, which is something that Tony isn't really used to. Most other races got prickly with how quickly his kind's minds worked, how fast their reflexes were. Bucky looked like he didn't care at all, which makes Tony eye him skeptically, but Peggy isn't in the habit of hiring idiots. (Most of them had quit en masse after she'd almost murdered Pierce.) Then the catwalk they're on creaks ominously. Tony and Bucky look down at it, stunned, and in that moment, it lurches downward, jerks, and snaps the wires holding it up. Tony grabs Bucky and leaps toward the curtains, claws tearing through the fabric as they plummet to the ground, trajectory only slowing a little. Tony could land on his feet and be fine, he thinks, but not holding Bucky. Bucky is too heavy. His legs would snap. So he wraps both arms around Bucky and turns, taking the full brunt of the fall so hard that his body cracks through the metal paneling under the wood veneer they used on the stage.

Tony survives. His race is hardy, Ms. Carter assures Bucky. She says she once watched Tony's father get wrecked by a shuttle bike and he had nothing but some bruising and road rash. ("His feet left the ground and he whipped around in a circle twice! I suppose that taught him to look both ways before he crossed the thoroughfare though.") Tony will probably be up and about in a week. All Bucky can think about is the way Tony's arms wrapped around him. The way he'd managed to whisper, "I've got you," right before they hit the ground. The way Tony had looked up at him after someone else had helped Bucky up off of him, teeth gritted to bite back a guttural moan of pain, even as his eyes tracked his body to make sure he wasn't injured. The way Tony had smiled when Bucky had helplessly reached out to take his hand. The way he'd squeezed back, so gently, when Bucky knew he could have easily crushed his hand instead. "This has awoken something in me," Bucky says miserably. "Do you think he likes flowers?" "I think he'd love flowers," Ms. Carter answers, then adds, "Don't ever give me an inkling of your sexual proclivities about my godson again." "YOUR GODSON?!" Bucky shrieks. Ms. Carter scoffs. "You think his family doesn't know where he is? The only reason they haven't come for him is because they're scared of me. ...Howard is scared of me," she corrected. "Maria... thinks me a worthy adversary. But she likes the arts too much to kill me." "Everything you just said is horrible and it didn't turn me off at all will they kill me? I feel like they'll kill me," Bucky begins, and then slumps miserably to the floor when she simply shrugs at him.

#aurumacadicus answers #ask meme #5 headcanons meme #winteriron

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nattawinlove-andmygaytea · 4 months

Text

Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat And Tul Pakorn Thanasrivanitchai On Love, Travel, Upcoming Projects And More

Together, the Thai stars are rewriting the rules of being a leading man in film and television all while venturing into new territories, pursuing passion projects and living their lives unapologetically.

Forget everything you think you know about being a leading man. Thai actors, Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat and Tul Pakorn “Tyler” Thanasrivanitchai, are redefining what it means to be a household name after starring in Thai boys’ love (BL) dramas.

Unlike the uninhibited and daring characters he sometimes plays on screen, Mew comes across as a reserved, soft-spoken yet confident gentleman in person. On set, he’s polite, charming and eager for feedback despite possessing a wellspring of experience in the entertainment industry. “Are my poses okay? Do I need to do anything differently?” he earnestly asks Kenneth Goh, our editor-in-chief who was art directing the shoot in Bangkok, Thailand.

Mew’s rise to fame was gradual. The 32-year-old earned his stripes as a model before getting his first big break as an actor when he was cast as Pree in the Thai BL drama What The Duck: The Series (2018). The show was an instant hit in Thailand, and was brought back for a second season. But it wasn’t until his role in TharnType: The Series, where he played Tharn, a gay man who falls in love with his homophobic roommate (played by Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong) in university, that his star rose dramatically.

Mew is also a gifted musician. His debut album 365 ranked number three on the worldwide iTunes album chart, and was number one in 18 countries. He also became the first Thai artiste to debut an album that reached the 13th spot on iTunes’ Global Digital Artist Ranking list. He has since struck out on his own with Mew Suppasit Studio, through which he releases new music.

His success as an actor and recording artist hasn’t gone unnoticed. He caught the eye of luxury fashion brands such as Maison Valentino, Tod’s and BOSS, resulting in coveted partnerships and front row seats at Milan fashion week.

In contrast, Tul exhibits golden retriever energy. Charming and enthusiastic in the flesh, he is the polar opposite of Mew on set. Tul is playful and adventurous, taking initiative on how to better bring the concept of the shoot to life. “It might be better if I stood behind Mew for this shot so we’re both facing the camera,” he thoughtfully suggests. His energy is infectious and he’s not afraid to do whatever it takes to get the best photo. On set, they are drawn to each other, playfully tugging at each other’s clothes, while warm embraces and encouraging shoulder rubs signal a close bond. After lunch, the laughs grew louder, the boyish repartee naughtier and the hugs tighter. Clearly, Mew and Tul have a special affinity with each other.

Like his contemporary, Tul’s first foray into the entertainment industry was through modelling. “I was a drum major during the Chula–Thammasat Traditional Football match back in 2011, and I was scouted by a modelling agency,” he recalls. “I was later spotted modelling during a fashion show by a casting director and was asked to go on an audition. I started acting in my third year in university, accepting one production a year.”

The casting director’s eye for talent proved to be on the money—the 31-year-old shot to fame, thanks to the success of Together With Me (2018), where he played Knock, a sexually-confused university student who ends up falling in love with his gay childhood best friend. With his newfound popularity, opportunities within the fashion industry opened up for Tul as well.

Another similarity between the two men is their dedication to academic excellence. Mew has a master’s degree in Engineering from Chulalongkorn University, while Tul just graduated from Columbia University with an MSc in Real Estate Development and worked as an acquisition intern at Cycamore Capital in New York City.

Mew and Tul are testament to the modern idea that there’s no one way to reach the pinnacle of success, and that there’s always room for personal and professional enrichment and time for passion projects. We sat both of them down for an intimate tête-à-tête on style, travel, upcoming projects, their goals for the new year and more.

ON FASHION

Tul: How would you describe your style?

Mew: It depends. I love to mix and match. I have different types of tops that I’d mix with different bottoms, shoes and accessories.

T: Your wardrobe is huge (laughs)!

M: What about you?

T: In Thailand, anything lightweight. I’m very sensitive to the heat. I’m still experimenting with my style, but I love Korean fashion. I think the cutting is more flattering for us Asians and it’s more sophisticated. I like something minimal with details that is easy to mix and match with what you already have. For Thai fashion, I like Greyhound.

M: Handbags! You have so many bags!

T: Shoulder bags and crossbody bags. Well, the thing is, I don’t feel like dressing up much while in Thailand. So I play with bags instead.

M: I bought him a new bag last year and I only saw him use it once. You know the problem isn’t about how often he uses it. The problem is, he was whining a lot when he wanted it. But when I bought it for him, he rarely used it.

T: I used it many times! Around five times.

M: In the entire year!

T: When I want him to buy me something, I’ll send him a picture saying, ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

ON FOOD AND TRAVEL

M: Any restaurant recommendations?

T: I think Japanese restaurants are great. I like yakiniku and shabu shabu, but I really recommend grilled prawns.

M: Any good ones in Ayutthaya? Once I ate them on a raft and threw up. I guess I had seasickness. River prawns are very fatty and the raft was floating, so I felt terrible.

T: I would recommend Ginzado. It’s a Japanese yakiniku restaurant.

M: What’s your favourite food?

T: Asian food. I enjoy Thai, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean food.

M: You know what our new discovery is? Peruvian food! It’s very good.

T: Yes, Peruvian food! So good!

M: We ate it in Canada.

T: Peruvian food is like a mix of Latin and Japanese food.

M: The restaurant we ate at in Miami was very good too.

T: Yes. They have this dish that’s a lot like our Yum (spicy salad). I think Thai people will like it. If you don’t enjoy Mexican cuisine, you might like Peruvian.

M: Do you always plan your trips or just go with the flow?

T: I always plan.

M: Overplan, more like it! He’s the one in charge of trips, and the itinerary is always just nice—not too packed.

T: I told you I can be obsessive-compulsive. When we travel, I want the best things at the best price. It needs to be cost-efficient. When you need to be somewhere at a certain point in time—such as seeing the sunrise at a particular spot—I will do everything to make sure we get to see the sunrise. I plan everything in advance and I don’t want anyone in the group to have to pay for something unnecessarily expensive. If, at some time, business class tickets are excessively costly and premium economy is more value for money, then we should do premium economy. I’ll be attentive to everyone’s rewards and mileage to ensure they don’t need to pay extra when they can redeem miles.

M: He will have all the information on hand like, if we’re going somewhere and need to use a particular airline, we should apply for this and that in advance, so we have benefits like better seats or baggage allowance.

ON WHAT’S NEXT

T: What are your plans for this year?

M: Last year, I worked on many projects, series and movies, so you’ll see a lot of my work both on television and in cinema. I’ll be back working on music soon as well. In addition, I have a fan meet around my birthday in February, so I’m looking forward to meeting my supporters there. Among the projects that I’ve completed is Mon Rak Luk Thung, a remake of a classic Thai musical rom-com. This is my first time singing many luk thung [folk] songs.

T: I’m thinking of seriously moving away from entertainment, and focussing on my family business. I’m currently working as a project manager for our new project in Bangna. It’s a community mall with a fresh food market. In the future, I would love to work in property management. I enjoy exploring residential and housing projects. I want to do something that offers customers high-quality products and a good quality of life. This is also the reason why I pursued my postgraduate study.

M: What are your goals for 2024?

T: I want to have a sexier body. I want to have time for the gym no matter what I have going on at work. Another goal of mine is to make more use of what I’ve learned in the US in my life. I want to be working on more tangible projects.

M: I have never had a chance to use any of the things I learned during my postgraduate studies (laughs). The research I did… I’ve used none of it.

ON THEMSELVES

W: How would you describe yourself?

T: I’m a worrywart. I think too much about every little thing despite my image as a very sociable extrovert. But when I’m on my own, I’m quite obsessive-compulsive; I will tidy my rooms and fold my clothes.

M: Everyone thinks he’s easy-going and very laid-back, but in reality, he’s a worrywart. He really, really thinks about everything. He keeps worrying about others.

T: It depends. I thought I could handle social media better as I got older but sometimes, I feel like I’m not as good at it as I could be. That said, after years in showbiz, I’m better at letting go and not letting it affect me as much.

M: I’m the opposite of Tul. He’s a worrywart despite his easy-going image. I look like I’m overthinking but in reality, I’m much more laid-back.

T: Exactly (laughs)!

ON LOVE

T: What’s your favourite love quote?

M: I don’t know… I’ve never thought of it.

T: Just Google ‘love quote’ and pick one you like.

M: For real? Okay, let’s see… Top 10 Love Quotes…

T: My love quote is ‘Bitch, I say what I say.’

M: What should I choose…what about this one? It’s quite short. ‘When there is love, there is life.’

#Congratulation boys 👏🏻#Groundbreaking!!!❤#tul pakorn #mew suppasit #Yes they did it! At the same time they said nothing...#Did I post the entire interview here just cause I needed it? Yeah.#mewtul #Go tyler make mew buy you everything you want...😽#And people saying that this intervirw doesn't have a point!?!?!?!#This is mew fulfilling his promise from last year 💋#What are they promoting with this? People ask... Love!#haters gonna hate #‘When there is love there is life.’#thai actors

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itspdameronthings · 2 months

Text

in Loving memory

Summary: here is my entry to@triplefrontier-anniversary celebration. This is a really sad one. sorry about that. this is a tribute for one of our own ,@aellynera who is now with the angels. She was one of a kind . Hope she loves this. she loved Oscar. Most of us knew she loved Triple frontier ,and anything with oscar. ha ha!

the fic deals with him mourning his love.

Wish people would stop asking how I am doing. Want to be alone! Let me fucking be! Let me grieve in my own way! Others never lose the love of their life like me. My Alleycat. One of a kind. Talented writer . Yeah. She loved to write short stories. Did that to take her mind off her illness. I found out about it four years ago when she would get sick a lot. Doctors ran test after test. Until … she was in a coma! Scared me half to death. Prayed for more time with her. Wishing Columbia never happened. Took me away from her! God! Why ! Why you called her home so fucking soon! Took my dad ( Which I didn't have to say goodbye to!) Took me years to get past the hurt. Feel so alone! What now!?

Haven't left our room since the funeral. That was the hardest thing to do. Say bye to my heart. Others are part of me. My Ying to my Yang. Treasure the moments we shared last year from going to a Broadway show in New York that stars her favorite actor. Okay, I saw why she likes him. Told me he looks like me. Smile at the memory. Oh Ally girl, wished we had more time together. Make even more memories. I’ll treasure them always. No matter what. I'll never find anyone like you darling. Promise you that.

I'm watching Revenge of Jolly right now. Try to laugh. Haven't been able to do that. I remember coming home from a horrible day. She was watching it. Okay.. kind of corny.

I watched it,and oh shit! Was so corny.

After the movie. I play some of her music. Oh how she loved the 70’s and 80’s. Her taste was all over the place! Like Dan Reed network. Played it a lot. Some country. Oh how she loved when I sing. Even with Benny. Speaking of him. Oh how he misses her. Like his big sister. Always teaming up to tease the shit out of me. Will and Frankie too loved her as well.

Her family gave me space that I needed. Mention if I need anything to let them know. That's sweet. Even Benny's girl, Paige comes by with food ,and tries to clean the house. Which looks like inside my head. She is grieving like me. Both of them were close. Like the same things. Same kind of sass. Which is comforting. On this day Paige brought me a note Ally wrote before she passed. Said for me to read it. Cant! Cant fucking do it! What can she possibly tell me that I already know! Paige told me it would help the healing process. Putting it on my nightstand for the time being.

Few days later Will texted me to come over for a surprise get together at his place. Others will be there. Too soon! Not ready to go out! Oh got a text from Paige:

Paige: Look, I know what you are going through. Been in your position when my dad passed away. Couldn't function. Took me awhile to realize that my dad didn't want me to wallow.

Santi: wallow? Think I'm wallowing?

Paige: a little. Have to get out at some point okay? Ally wouldn't want you to be sad forever. Have a lot of people in your corner. Besides, I need you at the gathering. So does Benny.

Santi: Oh.. the gathering has to do wop,ith you two?

Paige : maybe.

Maybe she said. Just like Ally . So secretive. Guess I have to bite the bullet,and read the letter. Sitting in my worn out, black leather chair. Starting to read:

My Santi baby( hot sauce) ,

Wrote this before my condition got so bad that I couldn't communicate anymore. Wanna tell you I love you soo much. Have been the love of my life for a long time, baby. Sorry for worrying you so much about my illness. Always there when I told you about it. So grateful for that.

Have a request for you. Live life to the fullest,but first thing first.

Get your knees checked out! Don't let it go too long! Hate to see you in pain. Do it for me. Secondly, it's okay to love someone new. Want you to be happy. It's okay to love someone else. Thirdly, let the others take care of you. I mean it! Have been a leader far too long. Let them take some of the slack okay?

Last thing my love I treasure all of the time we shared in our short time together. Never in my wildest dreams we found each other. Be strong .

Hold the note close to my heart. Tears fell again. Thinking about what I have to do. First thing. Time to get cleaned up. Meaning shaving my scruffy face.

Took a breath as I knocked on ironhead’s door. Benny opened the door. Hugging me so tight I couldn't breath. Others hugged me. Even Paige. Asked me if I was okay. Squeezed her tiny hands and told her I read the letter . Told her I'll do what she says.

Benny made his special announcement. Him and Paige are getting married. So happy for them . Hope both of them have a wonderful life together. Looking up at the evening sky knowing she is in heaven watching. Guiding not just me,but all of the people she cares about.

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac #@triplefrontier-anniversary

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gay-disabled-characters-showdown · 15 days

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LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 1, Poll 3

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave here.

Geordi La Forge-Star Trek: The Next Generation

Qualifications:

He is blind, canonically, and also [has] chronic headaches as a result of the visor he wears. He was actually originally conceptualized as gay, but never written as such because every Trekkie's nemesis, Rick Berman, took over the production of TNG after Roddenbury left. Every single heterosexual romance written for him is atrocious, and his closest non-familial relationship is with a man, Data. Said relationship is often interpreted as romantic or queerplatonic in nature by fans.

He is blind (uses a VISOR that lets him see the electromagnetic spectrum) and was intended to be gay before one of the producers decided not to let him be (thousand curses on Rick Berman)

Propaganda:

He is so wonderful and I love him so so so much. OK. Okay. So Geordi's main traits are that he is an incredibly dedicated and talented engineer, a ridiculously friendly and charismatic person, and very loyal & stubborn when it comes to the people he loves. He has, on two separate occasions, successfully made friends with a member of a hostile alien faction just by spending a few days with them (Hugh, Bochra). When his mother goes missing and he starts getting communications from an entity claiming to be her, he disobeys orders and puts himself in danger in an attempt to save her. Similarly, in The Most Toys, when Data is kidnapped by Kivas Fajo, he refuses to believe that Data made an error in piloting a shuttlecraft that resulted in his death, and through rigorous investigation, finds out what really happened and is able to get the Enterprise to rescue him. (This episode bears incredible similarity to an episode in Star Trek Deep Space Nine, wherein Keiko does the exact same thing when her husband Miles is falsely reported as dead, so in that parallel, Geordi and Data are directly analagous to a married couple). Geordi's disability is presented in one of the best ways I have seen in media from the 80s-90s. His disability is a part of his character, but never his defining trait, and in several episodes he stresses that he doesn't resent being blind, as it is part of who he is. In fact, there's even an episode where he is placed in direct thematic opposition to a eugenicist society that terminates all disabled zygotes. He was originally conceptualized as gay by Roddenbury, but was never written as such (partially due to Rick Berman's influence). However, all of his canon heterosexual romances are unspeakably terrible, and his closest onscreen relationship is with Data. This relationship is interpreted by many to be romantic or queerplatonic in nature.

He's so cooool!! He's the chief engineer on the enterprise, he's so kind, and his relationship with the android Data is one of the best on the show and is my favourite in all of Star Trek

Anything else?:

The actor who played him, LeVar Burton, is a vocal ally and has expressed support for his gay daughter in interviews :).

Geordi is awesome

Submitted by @convenient-plot-device and @autisticiantojvnes respectively.

Saki Tenma-Project Sekai

Qualifications:

Saki is canonically disabled and also is probably in a polycule with the three other girls in her band (the polycule is unfortunately not canon)

Propaganda:

Saki Tenma is Canonically Disabled (although her disability hasnt been named) and oh my god is she amazing disability rep i was not expecting a Hatsune Miku rhythm game to get me so attached to a character to the point of crying but here we are!!!!! methinks her and the rest of Leo/Need are definitely dating each other they were childhood friends who played music together until middle school but ended up drifting apart for different reasons after Saki is unable to continue going to school and must stay in the hospital but when Saki comes back in high school they eventually become close again and continue playing music as a band!! a part of Sakis arc is learning how to rely on her bandmates and be able to ask them for help when she needs it Saki often pushes her limits to the point of causing harm to herself because of how much time she had to spend in the hospital away from her closest friends while growing up due to her being disabled and how much she wished she could’ve been there with them instead but now she has them there to cheer her up and to remind her that even when she does end up having to miss out on events because of her disability that they will always be there for her no matter how ill she gets

#polls #poll #disabled characters #lgbtq characters #disability #lgbtq #lgbtq dcs round 1 #lgbtq dcs wave 1 #geordi tng #geordi la forge #star trek the next generation #star trek next gen #star trek #saki tenma #project sekai

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silkscream · 2 years

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💌angst to fluff blurb where it’s friends to lovers with Tom? Tyyyy

you hate this. you fucking hate this — and it’s not anyone’s fault why you hate it except your own. you and your stupid fucking tendency to self-isolate when things feel a bit too awkward at the function. and your best friend didn’t even have the decency of comforting you, and you didn’t know anyone else at the party, so of course, you’re hiding in the corner.

you’d blame your best friend, but you couldn’t.

you couldn’t blame tom for being so charismatic, so charming that every new person that showed up at the party was enamored by him. hell, you were struck by his spell from the moment he was introduced to you years ago. and yet, his friendliness didn’t move on from anything but that — friendliness. so you suppose it’s your own fault for catching feelings. you couldn’t help it.

the spiked seltzer in your hand wasn’t doing anything to relieve your anxiety, so you sit there on the couch sipping slowly as you observe the crowd. ironically, it was tom’s idea to host a huge party for the upcoming release of his new movie, and you think that befriending an actor would make you used to this by now, but no. you still felt small and othered, stuck in your own little bubble.

you aren’t talking to anyone because of your wretched mood. you imagine tom teasing you at the moment, but he’s across the room talking to some blonde that you vaguely recognize from a small netflix show. so rather than stealing him away, you saunter off to the kitchen to dump your can (the black cherry flavor tastes much too medicinal for you) and you manage to make yourself a concoction of tequila and orange juice.

when you look over at tom, he makes eye contact, nodding at you in acknowledgement. you smile back at him but he can sense it’s fake. it’s one of his many talents — to sense when you’re one in of your Moods, and yet he still hasn’t figured out how hopelessly in love with him you are. it makes you feel pathetic.

you watch him break away from the blonde to get over to the kitchen island.

“you alright, darling?” he murmurs into your ear. his hand is on the small of your back. you hope he doesn’t notice you shiver.

“of course,” you reply bluntly. you smile at him but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“what, are you angry with me or something?” his brows furrow.

“no, i’m fine, christ.”

“you don’t seem fine, love.”

“i’m just tired,” you sigh.

“i don’t believe you.”

“fuck, can you just drop it? please?”

he frowns at you. the look on his face is of genuine concern. you avoid his gaze by watching a couple in the corner of the room, sipping from your red solo cup as you turn slightly away from him. he's stunned, honestly, because you’re never really short with him. he can sense that you’re uncomfortable but he doesn’t know how to make it better. in fact, he senses that you don’t want him around at all.

“okay. let me know if you need anything, then,” he replies slowly, stroking your hair softly. the action makes you feel like you could start levitating, probably. he walks away and enters another room, the blonde from earlier following him. it feels like a punch to the gut.

hours pass and there’s no sight of him. it’s nearing three in the morning and party guests are slowly filing out, and the randoms you’re making small talk with throughout the entire night seem to dwindle by the masses. even harry is fixing to go home, but he spends enough time with you to cheer you up in the slightest bit.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong.”

“um, yes there is. you look like your dog just died.”

“i’m just… not feeling well. i’ve felt isolated all night.”

“really?” harry raises an eyebrow. “where’s tom? it’s his party, isn’t it? and he usually doesn’t leave your side, so…”

“i don’t know where tom is,” you reply bitterly.

harry nods. you hope that he’s not looking upon you with pity, though you can tell he empathizes. his eyes soften when he realizes what you mean when you say you feel isolated.

“are you staying here tonight or have you booked a room?”

“i’m supposed to be staying here, but i’m not quite sure. he’s been MIA for like, two hours.”

“i think you should probably tell him how you feel,” he murmurs.

“what?”

“you know what i mean.”

“i don’t.”

“okaaaay. whatever you say, y/n,” harry chuckles. “but i’m going to go back to my hotel. you’re free to come with if you’d like. your choice.”

“goodnight, harry.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

you’re left alone. there are maybe two or three people in the living room, passed out, of course, and you feel like a teenager drunk at 3 am all over again. the light of the disco ball fixed above on the ceiling continues to spin while the speakers play forgotten 80s music. it all feels so cliche. you wish you were drunk enough to pass out completely, but you stay sat on the sofa with your eyes staring at the ceiling.

your eyes are closed, listening to eyes without a face by billy idol on the speakers when a hand shakes your shoulder. when you open your eyes, you see tom’s smiling face.

“falling asleep on me, already?”

“it’s late,” you huff, stretching your limbs.

“i know. come to bed.”

come to bed. it feels seductive when it comes out of his mouth.

and so you follow him to his room and lay down on the bed to stare at the ceiling once more, and he lays down next to you. you wonder where that blonde’s gone. you think you’d rather kill yourself than hear the details from tom.

“why were you avoiding me all night?” he asks softly.

you scoff. “i wasn’t. you were just… clearly busy.”

“i mean, i was talking to a lot of people, but every time i approached you you seemed pissed off or something. is everything alright?”

“everything’s fine,” you bite your lip. you bite down hard enough that maybe you’ll draw blood.

“you’re lying.”

“what does it fucking matter?” you mumble under your breath.

“was someone weird to you tonight?” tom asks. he props himself up with an elbow and looks at you with concern.

“no.”

“what’s up? i want to know why you’re upset, i’m serious. was it a guy?”

“no. there’s no guy. just… forget it, it’s fine.” you screw your eyes shut.

“babe, you look so torn up,” he says softly. he holds your hand, rubs his thumb softly over the spot just below your index finger. “you can tell me. whose ass i have to beat up, huh?”

“no one’s!”

“y/n.”

you don’t say anything. you pull your hand away from him.

“will you please just tell me what’s wrong? i know when something's up—“

“it’s you! jesus. are you done? it’s you.”

tom’s back has straightened now. he frowns. “what do you mean?”

“it wasn’t fucking obvious to you before?” you scowl.

he doesn’t know how to respond.

“just forget it, tom. i’m really fucking tired. where’s that guest room of yours?”

“you like me?” he looks up at you with his opiate-wide eyes, forehead creased in confusion. you want to laugh in his face. instead, you can muster up a bitter chuckle.

“don’t worry about it,” you roll your eyes. you feel lucky that you’re drunk because otherwise this entire exchange would be mortifying to you. you think briefly about how waking up in this apartment would be. maybe you’ll leave early in the morning.

you sit up, doing everything you can to not look at tom. instead, your eyes are fixed on the closed door in front of you.

“‘m gonna go crash on the couch.”

when you get up to leave, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you backwards. you stumble and nearly fall into the bed, but he has you fall into his lap.

“please don’t leave,” he whispers. his voice is the smallest you’ve ever heard it.

“i wasn’t going to,” you whisper back.

“i know, but i can’t have you going to sleep thinking that— that i—“

“that you what, tom?” you furrow your brows. you’re on his lap now, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your thighs.

“that i don’t love you. because i do. and i’m so sorry for making you feel neglected or ignored tonight,” he starts. “i love you so much. i have since fucking… i don’t know. something in my brain changed overnight a few months ago and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. i just didn’t think you felt the same.”

“why the fuck wouldn’t i feel the same?’ you chuckle, smiling through tears that are pricking through your eyes.

“because you’re incredible and i don’t deserve you.” he wraps his arms around you, pulls you up so that you’re leaning into his lap while he leans backwards into his bed.

“you are so fucking corny.”

“yes, right, i know. can i kiss you now?”

“i guess so…” you tease him with rolled eyes. it’s too difficult to tease him without showing your genuine adoration. your cheeks are nearly bright red.

and he does — he kisses you with the fervor of every counterpart of the romcom couples you’ve dreamed of. to the point where he dips you downward and has you pressed into the mattress, with his gentle fingers combing through your hair neatly, descending down to your neck where he can squeeze your shoulder slightly just so he can remind himself that you’re real. you’ve always been real, even when you’ve been a dream to him. he’s grateful that you’re tangible in front of him now like a dream come to life. it’s better than the escapism any movie has granted him.

#asks #anonymous #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #2k celebration #blurb

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deliciouspirateangel · 3 months

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just finished binging the entirety of high school musical: the musical: the series in six days and now i'm going to ramble about it for longer than anyone would care to read. it's gonna be generally positive but definitely nini and olivia unfriendly so if you dont wanna read that... dont ♥️♥️

so i suggested to my sister a while ago that i wanted to watch the show bc the videos that youtube commentary channel "pretty much it" did for it were hysterical. and she had watched the first couple of eps by herself and was like "i dont think you'll like it. its not as funny as they make it seem". but we finally decided to start it anyway

(also i dont know the entire casts' real names so i'll mostly refer to them as their character names)

season 1:

that first season was kind of rough. especially the pilot. it got better over time but its definitely my least favorite season over all. im not even a fan of high school musical so it lacked the nostalgia enjoyment for me

and i definitely did not like nini and her main character syndrome. and sorry to say but i think olivia is the least talented cast member over all. pretty privilege is so real like she didnt deserve to be the break out star she was just the most marketable. kourtney and ashlyn's voices were so strong and stellar, and they might not've been Dancers but they could definitely move. and gina was the best dancer in the fucking world and while i do think her voice wasnt as good, she could obviously still sing. nini's best talent moments were when olivia was shining thru imo (that one taking it for gra-a-a-anted song comes to mind first) but i was not here for the acoustic numbers and honestly i dont think she was a great actress

so i definitely wasnt a fan of the whole nini ricky gina ej love square. i know its a tried and true teen show staple but goddamn it got tiring. i just never liked rini and i didnt like how nini treated him right from the start asklfjlds. she was also rude as hell to everyone else, especially gina, being all passive aggressive towards her. literally saying she wanted to kick gina in the face bc gina is a good dancer and she's intimidated?? but also all the talk in general about gina being intimidating or aggressive or a bad seed like ??? the microaggressions were off the charts

not to mention the fucking macroaggression of kourtney's entire s1 "character". i think hattie mcdaniel had a more nuanced role in gone with the wind. it was so fucking painful to watch. she didnt exist to be anything other than nini's personal soundboard, cheerleader, stylist, life coach, and whatever else she needed in the moment. thank god they gave her a real character by s2 bc kourtney was way too talented, too gorgeous, too charismatic to be forced into the role of nini's handmaid the whole time

i dont really have much to say about s1 cause i wasnt into it at the time lol. it was okay. all the actors did a good job, it was kind of funny, the only song that really stood out was miss jenn's fantasy sequence song with lucas. the actually high school musical show they put on was painful to watch but thats high school theater for you babyyy

season 2:

this was such an improvement from s1 and my favorite season over all. there were a handful of eps in the middle where i was constantly like "this is my fave ep" "ok this is my fave ep" "ok now THIS is my fave ep" it was a delight. i love beauty and the beast and was so happy for ashlyn getting belle, and everyone else was very well cast. although idk why seb was chip and not cogsworth?? my sister said it was bc disney didnt want to confirm that they were gay 💔💔

the music was obviously better bc we've got fucking alan menken on the track. all the numbers from the show were perfect. i wish ej had gotten to sing the gaston reprise bc he didnt get to reach his full gaston potential and i think we deserved that 💔

the debacle with the whole rose song was sooo annoying. nini deserved to be that fork. she dragged the whole show down like it was always so much better when she wasnt there aklfjlksd

the rivalry with the other school was lots of fun. i liked all the new characters. my favorite original song was miss jenn's number with derek hough

season 3:

this season was likeee a pleasant mid for me??? idk it was fine and fun but it didnt have anything in it that blew me away. i think this season was screaming for extra episodes more than any other, since we were missing a chunk of the cast. we deserved to cut back to salt lake every now and again and see what the non-camp-goers were up to

kourtney and gina as elsa and anna was a dream. not the biggest fan of frozen but they did a good job. everyone looked so cute in their costumes and kourtney's solo was amazinggg. the new characters were fun but i dont have strong feelings towards them lol. but i loved getting to explore kourtney's character and her struggles with anxiety, that was very real

them filming a documentary was funny bc have they not been filming one this whole time? my headcanon was that the to-the-camera interviews were all in their heads and everyone was practicing for when they became famous lol but then ricky ruined that in s4 by acknowledging them directly rip 💔

i liked after their show ended and they all got sharpies and wrote their names on the walls back stage. that was definitely a potent theater kid memory and got me a lil teary eyed

i liked ej taking on the role of director and copying miss jenn's hand holding and high pitched singing at the first read thru. i liked ej and gina together i thought they were cute. it was disappointing that the show wouldnt commit to them for even a minute and they always had to be teetering on the edge between being a couple and not. that was frustrating

and girl just get nini out of there already. olivia wanted nini to be there as much as i did. she was sooo over it by s3

umm favorite original song was corbin bluh's basketball song

season 4:

very very fun season again. loved the chaos of filming the movie at the school while school is happening. as if every movie set in a real school doesnt shoot in the summer. oh well. gotta have a season!

there was too much mack for me personally. i dont think he gave wanted they wanted to be given. i needed more dani tho. her actress was so good at bad acting. she couldve been a much bigger comedic presence also she looked like a cross between sofia carson and emma roberts but sometimes just looked like a latina emma roberts ??? is that just me??

and still the lack of seb and big red at the beginning like ?? did they specifically piss off the writers so they had to banish them for nearly half the show?

loved that the little girl from camp was there. she stole the show. and maddox and jet are fine alskfjsldk i just didnt form strong opinions on them but i do like them

ashlyn's "i need to give her mouth to mouth! AS A FRIEND!" was the funniest line of the entire show hands down

so happy they finally had a halloween episode! it was lots of fun and everyone looked so cute in their costumes uwu. but that guy from camp that was stalking carlos??? that was so bizarre and it never paid off likeee what was the reason

and gina's mom was pissing us off so bad. she was acting wild this season. like gina has to focus on her studies so no boys but she can work from sun up to sun down on a movie lmao. and her mom had the nerve to be like "well i never came to your shows bc that was just high school theater but THIS is a movie" like wooow. and i swear it felt like she was about to sell gina off to mack bc he was famous. and when she started with that "porters dont wait around" mess and ricky cleared her with a quickness with that whole "well i seem to remember gina waiting around for you on opening night" like damn

and omg when mack was over for dinner and ricky came over with chocolates but saw him thru the window. i was like ugh fuck its gonna be the stupid thing where he sees this and gets the wrong idea and its gonna be a stupid wedge between him and gina that doesnt need to be there bc no one can communicate BUT THEN gina sees him outside and runs to him and i think i screamed bc i was so relieved aslkjskl but their kiss was very cinematic and cute ♥️♥️

and omg on sunday night im sitting there trudging thru s1 like "yeah starting this might've been a mistake" and by friday im bawling my eyes out bc the story is ending 💔💔 sofia deserved the whole fucking egot and a golden globe too for that scene at the end. and i was SO invested in her acting career and like pleading with the show for her not to pass on it and stay at school but fucking genius that she is found a way to do both!!!

and i honestly didnt know what i wanted miss jenn to do like i was rooting for her both ways but of course she staaayed. and the show ended and it had the "skip credits" button and my sister was like "oh there's something after the credits?" and then i saw "for good" listed at the end of the songs and i screamed again. and was bawling again when everyone was singing that. who knew this silly little show would have such a death grip on me by the end???

so over all it was really very good and not a waste of time. i liked pretty much every character and it was just a lot of fun! would definitely watch it again

my over all season ranking would be two, four, three, and one is dead ass last

my favorite characters from the start were gina, miss jenn, carlos, ashlyn, and big red lowkey alskfjdskl. kourtney got up there in s2 and beyond. and i do really like ricky, ej, seb, they're my secondary faves. (kinda wish ricky had more to do bc aside from his parents, i feel like every single one of his issues had to do with a love triangle and i just wish the character was granted a little more texture) and the camp kids were good, they were fine, they're like third-iary faves. and the only ones i dislike are gina's mom and nini lol

and i wasnt like screaming over any ships but generally i liked them all except rini. ej and gina was cute, i liked ashlyn and maddox, i liked ashlyn and big red, carlos and seb probably were my faves if i had to pick, i liked kourtney with howie (wish we saw him again) and jet, and yes by the end i was rooting for rina they just won me over this season and were super cute and im glad they ended where they did ♥️

#hsmtmts #high school musical: the musical: the series #high school musical the musical the series #disney #disney channel #disney+#angel watches #angel watches hsmtmts

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theredmaynefiles · 9 months

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My Story: A Journey of Loss & Depression

Let me start by saying this isn't a blog about Eddie. I'm not sure why I'm even posting this here, except that for the longest time, I've needed some sort of outlet for some of the things I'm struggling with... and as this is my only blog, I guess this is it. Maybe someone out there will read this & be able to relate. Maybe it will help explain why my blog on Eddie has gone largely silent. Or maybe no one will even notice. Whatever. I need to get this out.

So first of all, hey there, I'm Marci. You know me as an Eddie Redmayne blogger, but I'm also a mom to a son who has ASD & a person who has dealt with what seems - to me, at least - to have been a lot of crap to cope with over the past 8 years. And I've reached a point where coping is more like just existing but more on that in a bit. Maybe.

My dad was always the strongest person I've ever known. He wasn't perfect, but he was one of those dads that could fix anything & always knew the answers to anything you want to know. In October 2013, my dad was diagnosed with cancer - specifically non-Hodgkins lymphoma. My family wasn't new to this particular diagnosis, as my brother, Jeff, was diagnosed with the same cancer in 1999. At this point, Jeff was considered in remission after successfully completing chemo & radiation treatment. So we thought we knew what to expect. Thing is, dad's cancer was in his stomach (my brother's started in his neck) & it was extremely aggressive. I became my father's caregiver. Besides cancer, he was diabetic & dealing with kidney failure. We saw doctors 3-5 times a week for the next year+. My dad went through 3 different types of chemo, including one clinical trial. None of it made any difference, and the cancer continued to spread. In January 2015, he was put on hospice, & in May 2015, my dad died. I wasn't entirely unprepared for this - I mean he was on hospice, & I've worked at a hospital & nursing home, & seen how this sort of things goes many times, but seeing it happen to your own dad - & someone who was so freaking strong - was really rough. It was a horrible experience.

After dad passed, a lot of things changed. Jake & I moved into a house my dad had left us, leaving my mom (with whom I'd always had a very complicated relationship, to say the least) on her own. In late 2016, while watching 'Fantastic Beasts', Jake suddenly exclaimed, "Mom, Newt is autistic like me!" It caught my interest, & my blog was born of it. For the next year & a half or so, it was an amazing creative outlet for me. Eddie is an incredibly talented actor & a truly kind-hearted human being, who actually makes it a point to connect with his fans. I've spoken to him a few times during the fan interviews, & he even wrote me a letter during the pandemic, which was both shocking & awesome. To be honest, though, the best thing about my blog was meeting Charlotte, AKA @bespokeredmayne, who has become one of my dearest friends, & is an amazing person in her own right. (total shout out there!)

My mom didn't cope well with my dad’s passing, & in March 2018, she had a stroke. She died less than a month later. I've already said we had a complicated relationship - without going into that much more, my mom was a narcissist who enjoyed hurting people. My feelings about her are still not great, even after she's been gone for over 5 years. I have a lot of guilt about that, but it is what it is. What I don't understand is why, after she died, my creativity died, too. I couldn't blog anymore. Mind you, at this same time, I was dealing with some health issues - I'd been having mobility issues, which I started seeing a doctor for in early 2018, but mom's sudden passing kind of shunted all of that to the side. Still, I can't even begin to explain the way things changed for me, much less to understand why I was so affected.

The next year was okay, we went to England, which was a lifelong dream, & things seemed like they were mostly going well enough, despite my increasing mobility issues as well as memory issues. While sorting through all our parents' stuff to get their house ready to sell, my brother, Jeff, and I became closer - we'd always been reasonably close, I guess. We got along well as siblings, despite an age gap of just over 10 years (he was older). He'd looked out for me when I was little & we were friends as adults, which is more than either of us could say about our other sibling, who has been estranged from us both since the 90s. So, yeah... we were pretty close.

So I mentioned about mobility issues, memory issues, etc. I had thought that at least part of this was some kind of ongoing complications from a car wreck I was in back in '95. Turns out, it wasn't - I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis 3 years ago. In the time since then, with the pandemic in full swing for much of the time, I became homebound. Besides the MS, I have asthma, & also a vaccine allergy. Between that & the autoimmune disease, I cannot be vaccinated, & I am at high rick for severe covid because of my health. Ironic, no? Add that to my increasing mobility issues & my life became more & more isolated.

The summer of 2021, my brother, in his 50s at the time, was diagnosed with heart failure. The cardiologist he was referred to said this was likely a complication of the chemo he'd had years earlier. In December 2021, just a few days before my birthday, he texted me that he was going to the e/r - this was around 2 in the morning. He texted me one more time after that, & then... nothing. I kept trying to get ahold of him, or the hospital, to find out what was going on, but no one answered until about 4 hours later, when I finally got someone at the e/r. To my absolute shock, she told me my brother was dead. He died less than an hour after his last text to me, of a sudden cardiac arrest. I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. To this day, I cannot really cope with it. I don't know why it's hit me so hard - I see people who cope with loss & move on, & I did that with my parents, but this one, I couldn't. It was like it was too much, losing both parents & then my brother. It has destroyed me in some way. I'm not the person I was before. So much loss, & then everything else....

One the day my brother died, I went to the hospital to say goodbye to him. I didn't leave my house again until about 4 weeks ago when our cat needed the emergency vet. For a year & a half, I stayed home. (& I haven’t gone out again since bringing our cat home) I work from home as a data analyst. I pay my bills online, & have my groceries, etc, delivered. The only person I see is Jake. My world is so isolated & so depressing. I'm very limited in what I can physically do & that adds massively to the depression. Plus, & this will probably sound selfish, but it's true nonetheless, ever since my brother died, I've felt this sense of impending doom & hopelessness. Like I'm next & it's only a matter of time. I don't know what to do about any of it. I sit here, in my messy house (I hate mess, but I can't physically do most of the cleaning, & Jake doesn't really do cleaning, despite being a huge help to me in other ways) & I exist. Nothing much changes from one day to the next. I feel not only so depressed, but such a horrible anxiety about my life, & about what will happen to Jake if something happens to me. And yet I feel totally helpless to do anything to change any of it. I just feel so emotionally exhausted all the time, like I can't cope with anything at all.

So, yeah... that's me. If you've made it this far, you're probably either bored to tears or disgusted with my moaning. Still, if you've read this, thanks. If anyone reads it, at least I'm not keeping it all to myself anymore. Maybe offloading all of this here will somehow make it easier for me to cope with it. Either way, it's out!

#depression loss ms

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darlenicy · 1 year

Text

Okay, so I watched Winx season 4...

....and I am not okay with it!

These are my full notes & thoughts.... aka one big rant👀

Okay so a quick reminder that I watched the German dub of season 4 so if I mention voice actors it's always the German ones. Oh, and I don't consider anything post movie #1 canon. Okay that's it, thank you. Now let's start the rant.

Episode 1:

the opening cringed right in 🙄

all of a sudden Faragonda comes to mind, that there is another stage of transformation - all of a sudden

the Trix picture in the Hall of Enchantments saved my day

Of course, Bloom has to touch everything again (the curtain in front of the wizards' picture was there on purpose, bloom!)

Winxologie doesn't sound arrogant at all, Tecna

Layla thinks dancing is also a class

"The winx are all totally in love with themselves" Clarice yes, you so right

Amaryl is still with the freshmen 🤣

if Bloom had said she hadn't done it, Faragonda would have believed her - poor Alice isn't extra enough yet to be the teacher's pet. Maybe if she is also the princess of a lost kingdom she eventually has the chance to become Faragonda's new favorite

he (Ogron) talks (has the same voice actor as) like cool cake (Codatorta don't ask why I call him cool cake I just do)

Episode 3:

how ruthless the Winx are (again I forgot what they did. probably them totally failing every fkn job)

zombie stuffed animals wtf girls

these animals are so UGLY and not cute

Episode 4:

why are you so shitty with the boyz? They just want to help you??!! Another hint, that skloom is dammed

no seriously the boys are just there being nice, ready to help and the Winx (mainly Bloom) are UGHHHHH YOU DON'T TRUST US

>:((((((((((

Episode 5

why don't you use fairy dust to turn the ass ugly fairy animals back? Rainbow be like: FCK CONTINUITY!

the Winx are the problem, not the specialists (they treat the boys like shit 😭)

Roxy's dad is lol. how can you have such a bad memory? best thing is calling HELIA -> TOBIAS xD

Why is Musa's bear called Pepe? Wasn't there another name? The name is already taken, Rainbow! :(

Episode 6

why this new hairstyle boys? helia looks so stupid. he was the cute, mysterious cool boy and now he is the freak with the bangs

Episode 8

it's no wonder, that Stella wasn't allowed to drive a car on Solaria. i mean it's stella and i don't want to know how high radius' bill was for all the crashed cars 😂

of course everyone can ride a horse now! Didn't bloom say she can't ride a horse in the 2nd movie? fck continuity

at least Musa is allowed to sing alone in this ep! give musa the musical attention she deserves and fck bloom. give the fire girl an instrument and let musa sing, she's the goddamn fairy of music!

nabu and timmy are the only non toxic bfs lmao i love them

Episode 9

Erendor suuuper inconspicuous

you were on Sparx? Sparx? Not Domino? U sure?

i love Erendor's rant. still why can't he rule? does this man need vacation so badly? why is sky even king? sense come out where u hiding

the bed is minimally exaggerated

Episode 10

Roxy be like: I'm not like you, Bloom. I don't want to be special. lemme be a normal earth girl and chill. no need to make me a PRINCESS IN THE FUTURE *cough*

you're listening to the police radio, Tecna? ok how criminal of you lmao

not Musa being a toxic bitch again. that's why i ship driven

Stella x Musa (even though musa is wrong but this cute. i love when they are sweet with each other. in s1 and s2 they had their problems but since s3 they're such besties)

Episode 11

musa, jason is your producer, not your boyfriend

➡ nothing against age gaps but he is clearly interested in her because she has talent, not because she has boobs

➡ and wTf you HAVE a boyfriend, musa! poor riven, my boi 😭

nabu x layla!!!!! (i will say it again and again, they built them up to destroy them and that is unnecessary drama! 😭

Episode 14

yes musa, short hair does suit you better

➡ also stella saying that long hair is the best thing ever is pretty rude against tecna? but hey, she's cool with it: stella: hair is the most effective weapon of seduction a girl has - Tecna: oh really, i though it was the brain - burrrrrn (in the German dub it's even meaner of stella because she explicitly says LONG hair is the most effective weapon a girl has)

Bloom didn't want to be a fairy at first like Roxy?? gurl, you were totally into it! it was you stupid dream after all

if stella had seen brandon being nice to a girl she's be mad? Ehm, they used to make a game out of who flirts with more people. real stella would chill, s4 stella would explode

yes riven, you just don't have a relationship base this season makes it more obvious than ever

and the animals just stay free in the city? ok...

Episode 15

YOU BROKE UP WITH HIM, MUSA! don't act as if HE was the problem🤯

Also do we see Mitzi as a fairy ever again? no? ok

Episode 16

oh brilliant Faragonda can't solve the mystery of the white circle? loser

who said that Bloom is the one singing? who is the music fairy? i think it's not her for sure!?

WHY DOES BLOOM SING?!

Poor Riven bb

yes Riven, change yourself completely, then everything will be fine. i mean rivusa shipping aside, it's never good to change yourself for another person. musa fcks up just as much as he does. maybe they just have to face that they don't work together? never ever try to become someone you are not. if a person wants YOU to change, better question the relationship with that person

➡ ngl rainbow could have written them better. it's a mystery why they don't make them break up before s7. it's simply not working

bloom has to address twice that she is a clever fairy to sky in case he forgets

➡ WHO HAS TO CALL ONESELF CLEVER AGAIN AND AGAIN MIGHT BE NOT SO CLEVER IRL I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

Episode 17

Tir Nan Og is near Ireland BUT it's a tropical island. makes sense

ehm is it just me or does Morgana looks exactly like the mermaid queen of andros' whose name i forgot?

hm not even that much. maybe it's the shape of their faces

Episode 18

Roxy is veeeeery emotional

brandon, don't say "you act like ex-lovers", that's very mean

you have been arguing a lot lately, musa? You argue ALL THE TIME!

Episode 19

essential oils or essential fairies? 🤣 why? i can't take them serious with that name. it sounds like "This is eucalyptus, this is peppermint, and this is lavender"🤣

do they build up nabu x layla so lovely, so that the end is even more tragic?? fck you rainbow

not stella patting the snake 🐍🤣 i love how she is not AHHHHH :0 but t AWWWWWW >.<

Episode 21

not musa kissing andy in fkn front of riven!!!

since when has it been the winx's dream to become musicians? since yesterday? ok

ogron, you serious? Don't give them the black circle

not musa worrying they'll be late for their show. i mean girls, it's the world that has to be saved again. fck your damn gig

not the German dub putting the cherry on top again with giving us some extra lines when in the original is just a "huh" when the winx discover sybilla's pan fairy minions:

➡ bloom: cute *v* - stella: ..you really think so? (same girl)

bloom: we have the gIfT oF hEaRt!! Stella: the power of prudence would be a more suiteable one - omg stella slay

riven sings.. he really sings. that proves again which's bf he is

no but seriously it's so nice that the boys want to play out time to make sure the winx will have their performance too later

➡ musa: YOU WANT TO STEAL US OUR SUCCESS!!!! >:(((((( JKLDFHIDHFSFHK they made it to guarantee that YOU can still perform!

Episode preview: The Winx….and Roxy

➡ as much as you try Roxy, you'll never be a Winx 😂

Episode 22

Tecna...

....who put you in that dress???

the wizards are all 4 my boyz and i love them

Episode 23

bloom isn't thinking at all again EWEWEW I WilL fIgHt YoU! Yes, go on. Fight against the fairy of WAR. you sure got good chances. and why she alone? why of all things HER?

nebula: you will pay for your arrogance ➡️ Yes girl

Aurora be like: worried…but for my ice tower!

➡️ love it how she gives no fcks about nebula but is only worried about her home

is it that simple? Roxy just gotta say please please and Morgana is aw okay I won't go on with the war against the humans

black gift: ah good, you can prevent a death, well you certainly won't act in haste i'm sure (spoiler: in the end it's not their fault at all and that is really a plot twist. i already saw bloom saving some stranger just to waste the gift so that nabu has to die. but it's not that case. idk how to feel about it. yaay fairies you did your best?)

Episode 24

Totally normal that a rabbit pays for pizza. wtf Gardenia you all high there?

layla speculating about the future 😭

nebula that ol' bitch was always the fairy of peace - now of war WAHAHA i think that's kinda neat. also nebula is a queen

until he (nabu) awakens?? Isn't he quite dead?

ok he is completely dead. then don't spoil us with little hints of hope that he might open his eyes again ok?

bloom: too baaaaad......not that i could use my dragon flame healing bring ppl bak to live powers on him nooo *whistle*

Episode 25

Layla is now eViL

do these tragic flashbacks have to be???😭😭

Red Fountain?? wtf German dub, it was always Rote Fontäne!, duuuh

another tragic flashback 😭

hard cut and at the end enchantix again? which animator was sloppy here?

nebula is such a queen

layla badass

secret revealed: morgana is roxy's mom - yes come on we ALL saw that coming

we give a fck about continuity again and act as if it wasn't centuries ago that the fairies were defeated at earth WTF. how is it even possibible that morgana was with claus?? sense, wherever you are, COME OUT

Episode 26

to name an episode without ice & fire without having ICY in it, is mean tho

one could have made nebula's and layla's change of mind more exciting

➡️ it was like: Oh, OH we're GOOD again! <3

nebula the real queen and she got what she deserved, i love that

Overall:

yeh this season is so cringe, okay? i watched 26 episodes and i feel like nothing really happened? the plot was so lame and slow. i mean, look what happens in s1-s3 in all the episodes. there was so much more going on. it was just relationship drama and unncecessary i gotta say. if they have to write rivusa so toxic then why don't they simply break them up and give them a harmonic ending? maybe being friends is better for them? also no fan of musa becoming a girly bitch with long hair. give me back my tomboy. i have to say too: a season without the trix is no real season even though the wizards are cool. also faragona is so useless let's don't talk about that. and the winx were teachers for ONE episode and after that they are like: meh no we live now our ugly love and pet life in gardenia. the pets, the PETS. i HATE them. they are so ugly. I mean the pixies had a plot they had to fulfill. they had a SENSE in the winx universe. the pets are just ...ugh. not cute. Then Roxy: my opinion on her: she's a bit over dramatic but fine i guess? still wonder why her wings are so big if she is no believix fairy. nebula, diana and aurora were really cool but come on, we did not really need this season. then the criticism that everyone has: wtf with the second movie. where does it take place? why is nabu alive? why do they have their beliviex? it's just that this season was rushed and the plot was meh. and i know it gets worse so let's face it. winx ended after the first movie and this is an ass ugly boring and lame written ff au.

And yes, I will go on with the detailed comments on s1. these notes here were just randomly taken on my phone and i felt the need to share them.

#winx club #winx #winx club season 4 #winx s4 #wizards of the black circle #winx bloom #winx stella #winx musa #winx flora #winx tecna #winx layla #ogron #anagan #gantlos #duman

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