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denimbex1986 · 6 days

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“He [Tom Ripley] will always get away with it,” said Patricia Highsmith in an interview once. Tom Ripley—Highsmith’s most famous character, and the main protagonist of five of her novels—is a man, whom readers both love and hate. Through Highsmith’s prose, Ripley has made violence, theft, and murder into nothing more than a domestic affair, or sipping on an espresso in Rome, quietly, calmly, innocently observing the people that pass.

Highsmith’s novels—especially The Talented Mr. Ripley, first published in 1955—have been the subject of many film adaptations. In 1951, Alfred Hitchcock adapted Strangers on the Train; René Clément’s Purple Noon (1960) was an adaptation of The Talented Mr. Ripley; Wim Wenders adapted Ripley’s Game with his film, The American Friend (1977); and Anthony Minghella made The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999). The latest in adaptations of Highsmith’s Ripley novels is simply titled Ripley (2024), directed by Steven Zaillian, with Andrew Scott as Tom Ripley. The series is streaming on Netflix, and it consists of eight episodes with plot and action mainly taken out of Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Ripley is unlike other adaptations of Highsmith’s novel. Shot in black and white with high contrast, this is a cinematic expression of moodiness, ethereal jazz, and domesticity of murder. Given the fact that this is a series and not a stand-alone film, Zaillian took the opportunity to open up the doorways into the soul of Tom Ripley, and really focus on what makes this pleasant psychopath tick. More importantly, why do we, as both readers and audience, like him? Why do we want him to literally get away with murder, yet at the same time, we hope that justice will be served? Is it because Tom Ripley is nice? Highsmith is essentially asking whether evil comes under the guise of niceness and pleasantness, and illuminates the fact that evil monsters are not always outwardly frightening.

The series opens with Tom Ripley in New York. We find that he is living a banal and mediocre life of con artistry. He lives in a crummy apartment, populated by other single and destitute men. He spends his days forging checks, masquerading as a doctor or a businessman, offering services to people, and then demanding that they pay bills that were already paid. There is always a chance that he may be found out, and so he lives in the shadows.

Without a doubt, Tom is stuck in a con man’s rut. An offer comes through that he cannot refuse. Herbert Greenleaf enlists Tom’s help to talk some sense into his son, Dickie (played by Johnny Flynn), and convince him to leave Europe and come back to America where he can work and live respectably. It’s not really clear if Tom and Dickie were ever even friends but given the fact that Tom is hiding from the law and lives in deplorable conditions, a trip to Italy with all expenses paid, including salary, sounds wonderful.

Andrew Scott captures perfectly Tom Ripley’s alienation, which we immediately see in New York as he’s riding the subway. Once he arrives in Italy, this is apparent even more. When he gets off the train in Naples, people are running into him as he stands on the station, wondering which direction to take. Italians are unhelpful, and he doesn’t know how to get to Atrani (which is where Dickie is living), except that some makeshift taxi brought him to what may or may not be a bus station.

His arrival in Atrani brings even greater alienation. He barely speaks any Italian, and an old man at the post office is not interested in helping him either. We have no choice but to feel compassion toward Tom—an American lost in a foreign land. Yet despite this, he is still trying to be nice and pleasant.

Dickie Greenleaf is living in a huge villa that overlooks the sea. Clumsily, he introduces himself to Dickie (who is accompanied by his girlfriend, Marge, played by Dakota Fanning), who doesn’t really remember him. But after Dickie finds out the real reason why Tom is in Atrani, he finds the entire situation amusing. Resentful of his parents’ attempt to bring him home to America, Dickie decides to show Tom a good time in Italy. Naturally, Tom accepts.

Marge is immediately suspicious of this interloper. Dickie doesn’t seem to be aware of Tom’s nuanced behavior but Marge senses there is something odd about Ripley. At some point, she wonders if Tom is “queer,” but she concludes that he may not even be sexual enough to have an orientation. This is a fair assumption—Tom is not an erotic character, although he does embody a subterranean homoeroticism. His blandness would indicate that he has no lust for life, no thrust toward achievement, or passion. Yet, his immorality and coldness clearly have an aim.

Tom Ripley is not merely a petty thief. When Dickie tells him that it’s time to move on, and that his attempt at bringing him back home has failed, Tom brutally murders him. This is the beginning of aggressive shapeshifting for Tom. He proceeds to assume Dickie Greenleaf’s identity and money by playing a game of evasion. Nobody can catch him because with some he pretends to be Dickie, while with others he is still Tom Ripley.

Marge was always suspicious of Tom. She continues to harbor uneasiness and suspicion, but Tom’s politeness and seeming care for her results in trust, however fragile and temporary it may be. Paradoxically, it is Dickie’s lack of presence that creates a momentary closeness with Tom. She later comes to accept the falsehood that Dickie killed himself.

Dickie’s friend, Freddie Miles (in a rather strange casting of Eliot Sumner, who is British, gaunt, and gender-confused—a complete opposite of Freddie in the book) suspects that Tom has killed Dickie. In order to silence him, Tom kills Freddie with several blows to the head with an ashtray. He awkwardly cleans the blood—there is no sense of murder’s precision. Tom Ripley is just a guy who doesn’t even know how to handle basic house chores, except that for him, a murder is just another basic house chore.

Is anything planned or premeditated in Tom’s actions? He appears to be a haphazard killer, yet the executions of his immoral actions suggest malevolent intentions. He does indeed willingly choose to be a shapeshifter, even if he is a mystery to himself. This is the enigma of Tom Ripley—Highsmith has created a psychopath who is clumsy and dull; a man who was a kid that nobody wanted to play with, who was mocked and abandoned, a kid who wants to be someone else in order to feel accepted. He is an unavoidable annoyance, a kid that hangs on to your every word in admiration and prostration, yet also hates you if you deviate from his understanding of how the relationship ought to proceed.

Double Life of Patricia Highsmith

Patricia Highsmith did not like being called a “crime writer,” and for a good reason. The Ripley novels may include crimes but they are hardly potboilers or mysteries. She did not set out to write a mystery book, but a novel about a man, who is difficult to catch, especially metaphysically.

Just like Tom Ripley, Highsmith embodied a duplicity but not in a corrupt, psychopathic way. Her life was a series of metaphysical masks; evading one existence, entering another, burdened by the family history, and concealing a secret of her lesbianism, while at the same time disliking women and preferring a non-sexual company of men. By no means was Highsmith the psychopath that Ripley is, but she was enigmatic and difficult to capture.

Born and partially raised in Texas, Highsmith’s family life was mired in darkness, yet as Joan Schenkar writes in her book, The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith, “Emotional memory was what lit up Pat’s work and darkened her days, and emotional memory rarely wears a watch or walks a straight line.” This certainly couldn’t be more true for Highsmith.

She spent most of her life in Europe, living in France and then in Switzerland. America had abandoned her in many ways. Not only were her books more popular in Europe, her own childhood was one of abandonment. Her parents divorced almost immediately after she was born. Her mother married another man, who was to become Highsmith’s stepfather, but this hardly brought stability into her life. In fact, her mother and stepfather decided to leave Texas and live in New York, abandoning young Patricia, who was partially raised by her grandmother.

She reunited with her mother later, but after she turned 18 or 19, it was time to be free. Throughout her life, Highsmith lived with the notion that her mother wanted to abort her and had attempted repeatedly to reach out to her mother and ask for love, only to be rejected again and again. Her mother had plenty to say about Highsmith not acting “like a lady,” and accusing her of being a lesbian. All of this and much more led Highsmith to completely sever her relationship (legally and otherwise) with her mother, and indeed Texas and America as well.

Highsmith was an immediate success in the literary world and she made a substantial amount of money as well so that she was able to be financially independent. Her relationships were obsessive and she moved quickly through love affairs, leaving many women confused and abandoned.

It’s hardly a surprise that Highsmith developed a sort of double life. Not only did she have to hide her sexual orientation, but given her family life, she most likely developed an armor that was rarely removed. In a way, this is what makes her similar to Tom Ripley. It would be a disservice to Highsmith to simply reduce her to one of her characters but her interest in such strange behavior, and creation of such a character to begin with gives us pause to reconsider who she really was (if that is even entirely possible).

“Obsessions are the only thing that matter,” she once wrote. “Perversion interests me most and is guiding my darkness.” Tom Ripley is obsessed but in a mild-mannered way. This is what makes him an intriguing character, someone we are repulsed by but at the same time, we cannot look away. It’s not exactly like witnessing a train wreck or some disaster but we do become voyeurs when we seek to look at Tom Ripley.

Despite the dull and forgettable personality, Ripley still represents the duality of the self. This is mirrored in Highsmith’s life. “No use looking for one’s self in a static condition,” Highsmith wrote, “surrounded by the things, attitudes, people one thinks of. … The living self is always in flux.” This is true of Tom Ripley as well. He is literally always in flux, always on the move, always escaping, and always becoming someone else other than himself. But who is he? A creator or a destroyer of his own life?

Netflix’s Ripley emphasizes these questions by creating a subtle metaphysical portrait of Tom Ripley, accentuating his paradoxical clumsy finesse. A theme that is pervasive throughout the series is Tom’s obsession with Caravaggio and his work. He goes from one church to another, one town to another, seeking Caravaggio’s paintings. He identifies with Caravaggio’s own violent and artistic life, a life that is both sacred and profane, filled with passion, murder, vendettas, and untimely death.

But this obsession in effect reveals Tom Ripley’s own inflated view of himself. He only sees what he wants to see. His lack of fear is unnerving. We seek human qualities in Tom but this only yields discouragement and irritation. He is different, a constant shapeshifter who is polite to the landlady but who drops Dickie Greenleaf’s dead body into the sea, and drags Freddie Miles’ corpse down the stairs of the building as if he is moving a piece of furniture. It is precisely this bizarre domestication of murder, theft, and duplicity that makes Tom Ripley an endlessly interesting character. “My obsession with duality saves me from a great many other obsessions,” said Highsmith. Tom Ripley became Highsmith’s obsession, and the intricate relationship between the author and her creation is yet another aspect of why Tom Ripley continues to fascinate us.'

#Patricia Highsmith #Ripley #The Talented Mr Ripley #Andrew Scott #Steven Zaillian #Anthony Minghella #Netflix #Johnny Flynn #Dickie Greenleaf #Marge Sherwood #Dakota Fanning #Eliot Sumner #Freddie Miles #Caravaggio

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noirsfantasy · 1 year

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| 𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 |

🥖Info: she/her, 21 yrs, 20011007, Libra, 5'4, African American

🥖Actors/Singers: Michael B Jordan, John Boyega, Jonathan Majors, Rome Flynn, Lakeith Stanfield, Idris Elba, Vin Diesel, Tupac, Bruno Mars, Chadwick Boseman

🥖Characters: Hobie Brown, Adonis Creed, Damian Anderson, Dominic Toretto, Roman Reigns, Fontaine, Simon Basset, Black Panther/T’challa

🥖K-pop Groups: EXO, SHINee, Monsta X, NCT 127, NCT Dream, BTS, Super M, BIGBANG, Stray Kids

🥯I love to write fluffs, they are just so wholesome. I write smuts as well, but I am still developing my skill in that area. Please bare with me lol. Angst stories are also fun for me to write, so if anyone has requests from any categories, send them my way!

🥯My stories going forward are mostly aimed toward my African American audience. Some will be written in a neutral light, but I want to add more content for my black girlies out here.

🥯Anyone wondering what will happen with my old posts, I will keep them posted. I still like to go back and see what my writing used to look like and I know there are people who enjoy those stories as well. (We stan growth over here!)

🥯Please DO NOT request anything containing incest or pedophilia (I will not write romantically about anyone under the age of 18)

🥯Please don't rush me. Period.

🥯Don't be afraid to talk to me! I'm just a regular person like you. If there is some advice you'd like to give or comments you want to make, I am open to them all. All I ask is that we keep it nice and respectful. You respect me and I'll respect you.

🥯I WILL NOT be tolerating any type of hate or rudeness on this account. (any comments along those lines will be deleted and blocked)

🥯This account is a safe place for readers to unwind and live out fantasies. More specifically, I want this to be a place for black people to be able to see fics made for them. I want to write stories that are more relatable and less stereotypical.

#about #kpop scenario #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop reactions #exo #stray kids #wonho #monsta x #shinee #bts #super m #author intro #about the admin

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b00tyliciousbabe · 2 months

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omg i just read your jordan story and let me tell you i’ve been obsessed with the submissive album since november😭😭😭

can i request a story with like a dummy thick male reader, im talking body coca cola, with marcus scribner of rome flynn or like any of your muscled up niggas.

ps: i love your work🫶🏾🫶🏾

GENUINELY! destin just did his thing with that body of work - i am so glad to hear someone agree.

I’m thinking of making some fics inspired by songs (my next one is inspired by flo’s latest single) so we are gonna have some fun with that.

now y’all know i love me some marcus…idc what anybody says, THAT’S MY MANZZZ

i love this idea, imma use it as motivation because that’s my dream bod x

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elbienamado · 9 months

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Is that BIBIANO DE LA CRUZ? A JUNIOR originally from MANHATTAN, NY, they decided to come to Ogden College to study PRE-MED. They’re THE BIG MAN ON CAMPUS, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

updated 8/17/2023

tw: implied death of sibling(s), child/infant death, implied parental neglect, references to religion (Catholicism)

The Basics:

Full Name: Bibiano Yasiel De La Cruz-Aguilera

Nick Names: Bibi, B, {Big Man,B-Man, Mr. President, Biber, Beebs} (by Hyatt but they're (mostly)free game), BB (Dartboard only, negative connotations so don't call him this haha)

Pronouns: He/him

Ethnicity: Afro-Cubano

Sexuality: Straight

Gender: Cismale

Age: 22

Birthday: December 28, 2000

Zodiac: Capricorn Sun, Aquarius Moon, Libra Rising

MBTI: INFJ-T

Enneagram: 2w1

Religion: Roman Catholic

Family: Abraham De La Cruz - Father, 55 (Andre Royo), Consuelo De La Cruz-Aguilera - Mother, 54 (Gina Torres), Maricruz Acosta - Au pair, 45 (Rosario Dawson), Sibling(s) † TBD (his parents had 5 failed pregnancies before Bibi was born)

Language: English, Spanish, can understand spoken and written Portuguese (doesn't actually know the language but because of the similarities to Spanish he is able to gage what is being said), very basic conversational spoken Japanese

Appearance:

Face Claim: Rome Flynn

Height: 5'11"

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color: Black

Hair Style: Close skin fade with roughly 2 inches of longer curls at the top front of his head

Tattoos: None (if you see one of Rome Flynn's tattoos in a pic I used, no you didn't 🤫)

Style: Cocktail Attire to Business Formal during school hours, Athleisure to Soft Boy Aesthetic on off hours

Piercings: Single piercings on both ears

How he embodies THE BIG MAN ON CAMPUS:

The son of a prosecutor turned senate hopeful and a brain surgeon, Bibiano has always been destined for success. And he’s done a good job so far, if you ask him. As Ogden’s football team Captain, the President of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and a member of the Junior Class Board, he’s got a lot on his plate besides his studies. But if there’s one thing his parents instilled in him since childhood, it’s that good things come to those who work hard. So work hard he does. It’s fine. After all, what more could he ask when his entire life had been preordained?

Extracurriculars: President of Sigma Alpha Epsilon, Football team Captain (Quarterback), Junior Class Board, Pre-Med Society, Ultimate Frisbee, Squash

Relationship to Greer:

If you had asked Bibiano last year how his relationship with Greer was going, he would have smiled brightly and answered, ‘Never better!’ while brushing a stray curl away from his face, letting his promise ring catch the light in the down stroke. Saddest thing was that he would have meant it. Wholeheartedly. Things were going great between him and Greer. Fantastic even. Despite the fact that they were talking and seeing each other less and less every year. It’s not like he hadn’t noticed, but with the MCAT looming over the horizon, he couldn’t afford to slack off. He thought she would understand, but once he had ‘stopped being fun’, she had stopped telling him whenever she’d go out and blocked his number. He’d only learn about what she was up to because she hadn’t bothered to block him on Snapchat. But all couples have their ups and downs, and he wouldn’t be the first boyfriend to get blocked during a fight. It was fine though, because Bibiano knew that they would make up eventually and everything would go back to how it’d always been. Greer and him were an inevitability. They were destined to get married and start a family. 2.5 kids, the picket fence, all of it. They were the New American Dream. Idyllic, yet achievable if you just put in the work. It was as true as the celestial bodies in the sky that circled the Earth. As true as the love of the Lord. A year later and his promise ring was tucked neatly into the black velvet box that had originally held Greer’s.

Character Inspirations:

Scott McCall (MTV's Teen Wolf), Wolfgang Grimmer (Naoki Urasawa's Monster), Shima Sousuke (Skip and Loafer), Finn Hudson (Glee), Aaron Samuels (Mean Girls), James Wilson, M.D (House MD), Ann Perkins (Parks and Recreation), Phoenix Wright (Ace Attorney), Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Laios Touden (Dungeon Meshi), Papyrus (Undertale), Noelle (Deltarune), Kota Ibushi (DDT/NJPW/AEW - Wrestling, Seiya Sanada [j5g era] (NJPW - Wrestling) (i'm being so real rn wrestling is just professional sports larping where the audience is also part of the collaborative story telling and the wrestlers are constantly rping in real life i cannot stress enough that i am being so so real rn))

Character Tropes:

Lovable Jock, Captain Oblivious, The Unwitting Comedian, The McCoy, Mr. Nice Guy, Extreme Doormat, The Cutie, Horrible Judge Of Character, Perpetual Smiler, Only Sane Man, Beware the Nice Ones, Reluctant Fanservice Guy, Adorkable, I Just Want to Be Normal, Creature of Habit, Token Good Teammate, Super Gullible, The Teetotaler, Crisis of Faith

Vibes:

a puppy with paws still too large for their body ; awkward and sweet he stumbles over his own two feet / a single deer fawn in the middle of a forest clearing, their round eyes sparkle with curiosity, not yet knowing the cruelty of the world they clumsily walk towards you ; far too trusting for his own good, that naivety will only cause him more pain / what if we erased all of our mistakes? i want to be nice to you ; a man who doesn't guard his own heart, he says he won't trust like that again but makes the same mistake over and over again / i wanna be a fool, but you're not making it easy for me ; it's in his nature to forgive far to easily, he'll almost always bend first, but be careful, even a perpetual doormat can grow a spine if pushed too far /

Expanded Personality:

Bibiano's father has been trying to run for the senate for as long as Bibi can remember. However, as an Afro-Latino immigrant, securing the conservative vote has been quite the challenge, to say the least. To that end, Bibiano is under unending pressure to be the perfect All American Boy.

This upbringing has forced him to be more down to earth than most of the other affluent kids in Greer’s circle and thus allows him to make fast friends with people way out of his parent’s tax bracket.

Tw: references to religion, death of a child/ death of siblings (brief references to miscarriages, still born children): Bibi comes from a conservative Roman Catholic Afro-Cuban family. According to his parents, his conception was a miracle from God, a gift to reward them for their years of faith despite the siblings he had lost before they could be born. So, no, he’s not an only child, he’s the youngest of six. They’re his guardian angels, taken far too soon by their God so they could watch over him. Bibiano lives for them. To make them and their parents proud.

more to come 🕺

Connections: { here }

Playlist, Pinterest

Sample RP:

“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?”

“Excuse me?” The words were spat out of Bibiano's mouth with far more venom than he had intended. He realized his mistake when he turned his head and matched gazes with a pair of detectives in neat business casual. All in all, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The ex is always one of the first people they looked at, especially when they hadn't exactly broken up in amicable terms. And despite Greer's valiant attempt at astroturfing the reason for their split, no one had really bought the lies. (At least Bibiano sure hadn’t.) So of course Bibi knew this was coming. From the instant he had heard that she was officially a missing person he knew. He wasn’t stupid. He just, somehow, hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. Call it naivety. It was fine. He had learned how to handle these types of situations after he hit his first major growth spurt and was 5’8” at 14. Pursing his lips, Bibiano regarded the detectives for a moment before cocking his head slightly and giving them an exasperated smile. “I’d really love to answer any question you have, detectives, but it’ll have to go through my father first. You two know how he is; a real by-the-book type of guy," Bibiano chuckled softly, scratching lightly at the side of his neck. “You have Prosecutor De La Cruz’s number, right?” Bibi then pressed his lips together in a tight lipped smile, eyebrows rising good naturedly. The challenge had been clear. They should have known better. “I’m sure the guys back in the office can help you find it if you don’t.”

Does it ever bother you, how small of a school Ogden is? And how everyone is everyone else’s business?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective.” Bibiano answered, turning away from the computer screen to look at his lab partner from over his shoulder. “Personally, I like to think of it more as… ‘cozy’. Like, yeah, people know way more about my business than I’d like them to but the benefits outweigh the cons by a long shot.” Bibi laughed when he heard multiple grumbles in response. He hadn’t realized he had an audience. “I’m serious! Just think about it, college is half studying half networking. Where else would you have a chance to meet and make connections with all these rich kids?” Bibi asked, pushing away from the desk so he could spin his chair in a lazy circle to get a better look at the others. “Aren’t you one of the rich kids, too?” Someone said. Bibiano quirked an eyebrow at that, his lips pushed forward in an annoyed pout. “I mean, yeah, technically. But they’re old money; my family is what they call ‘new money’. Big difference,” Bibi said, tapping the side of his forehead. “Even though I grew up with the Morrisons, I don’t think they ever really thought of me as an equal. I mean, look at how fast Greer dropped me when–” Bibiano snapped his mouth shut as he noticed eyes light up with interest. He had almost said too much. “Y’know what, that’s not important. Stop distracting me, cuz if we turn in a half finished assignment I got no problem throwing you under the bus to save myself.” Bibi snarked, pointing at his lab partner. His laughter bounced off the walls when he was forced to dodge a quickly formed paper ball thrown his way. “Let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“Popularity isn’t supposed to matter past high school, but do you think Ogden has a popular crowd? Like…Greer was popular, wasn’t she?”

“Why the fuck are you talking about her in the past tense?” Bibiano snarled, glaring daggers down at the party goer that had pulled him into a private room. “Cuz last time I checked, Greer’s still marked as a missing person. Unless there’s something you know that I don’t?” Bibiano took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. “Well?” He lifted his eyebrows, his smile warped into something unfamiliar and dangerous. The usually gentle warmth in his eyes burned hotter, fueled by indignant rage. “If you got any new information, I’m dying to hear it.” It was silent in the room except for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the frat party on the other side of the door. “Nothing to say now? Figures.” Bibiano sneered, pushing past them to walk towards the door. He reached for the handle and paused before turning back. “Y’know what? Do me a favor and don’t speak to me again. Matter of fact, stay away from the Morrison twins, too. God knows they have way more important things to worry about than another know-nothing clout chaser looking for the next juicy piece of gossip.” With that, Bibi stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. A few heads turned towards the noise, but he didn’t wait to see if anyone called out. Taking long strides, he made it to a familiar gaudily furnished bathroom, stepped in, and locked the door behind him with trembling hands. Dropping clumsily onto the sink countertop he gripped it like a lifeline as the adrenaline slowly drained out of him. His mind was a jumbled mess, the thoughts racing far too quickly for him to make sense of anything. Bloodshot eyes flickered up to the antique gold mirror hung in front of him. He looked awful. There’s no way he could face the rest of the party looking like this. Not after the scene he had just made. They probably were already whispering among themselves, chomping at the bit to watch another star ignite into flames on their fall from grace. Well, too bad for them. They’d have to wait a little longer before he’d let himself burn up into ash and dust.

#ogdenintro #i will add more later 😖

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tealwrightiv · 4 months

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Introducing Teal Wright IV

Syrok, 25, EST; HE/HIM. | if you’re hearing D'Evils by Sir playing, you have to know TEAL WRIGHT IV (HE/HIM; CISGENDER MAN) is near by! the 30 year old OWNER OF PANDORA’S BOX has been in denver for, like, EIGHT YEARS. they’re known to be quite DEMANDING, but being THOUGHTFUL seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble ROME FLYNN. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those NICE CORVETTE, BOMB STYLE, AESTHETICALLY PLEASING HOME vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the CHERRY CREEK DISTRICT long enough

►GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Teal Wright IV NICKNAME(S): T4 AGE: 30 DATE OF BIRTH: 1/1/1994 ZODIAC: Capricorn GENDER & PRONOUNS: Male He/Him SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English OCCUPATION:OWNER OF PANDORA’S BOXl SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Heterosexual

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Rome Flynn HEIGHT: 6'1 WEIGHT: 185 lbs. DOMINANT HAND: Right HAIR COLOR: Black EYE COLOR: Brown

►PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Entertaining, Charming, Accepting, Ambitious , Funny, Thoughtful NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, reluctant, shuts down, demanding LIKES:

Hiking

working out

reading

people watching

fashion

mentoring

coffee

walking and talking

Hooping

DISLIKES:

people who don’t understand there emotions

candy

Pets

mean people who treat people badly

drama of any kind

►BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Washington DC CURRENT RESIDENCE: CHERRY CREEK DISTRICTEDUCATION LEVEL: Masters

►FAVORITES

FOOD: Ledos Pizza DRINK: Manhattan or Old Fashioned MOVIE: Crazy Stupid Love TV SHOW: This is Us, Boy Meets World BAND/ARTIST: Third Story, Jake Issac, JP Cooper SONG: Still in Love By Third Story

► EXTRA INFORMATION

JUNG TYPE: INFP ENNEAGRAM: 1w9

#chq;intro

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berberriescorner · 2 years

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“Don’t Hurt Yourself” - Chapter: “Shot For Me” - Odell Beckham Jr. x Black!OC (Aundraya A.K.A ‘Draya’). 👀

Here you go🥰.

NOTE: I haven’t worked on this in a long time. Please excuse any grammatical errors (I’m sure there are plenty) and anything cringe-worthy😩. I wrote this from the character’s point of view. It’s a lengthy chapter, so you get a long snippet😁. Each couple is going through their own struggle at this point in the story. This chapter is based on the song Shot For Me by Drake.

Main Characters:

Jazmine Sullivan as “Aundraya (Draya) Morgan”

Odell Beckham Jr. as Himself (‘OJ’ or ‘O’)

Supporting Characters (Couples):

Ari Lennox as “Brooklynne (Lynne) Jackson” - Vaughn Hebron as “Trevor Williams”

Saweetie as “Dawn McKnight” - Rome Flynn as “Jayden (Jay) Haynes”

Victoria Monét as “Kimberly (Kim) James” - Michael B. Jordan as “Keith Grant”

Special Appearance (Mentions):

Dave East as Himself

Chris Brown as Himself

Snippet: Odell Beckham Jr. x Black!OC (Draya)

Aundraya (Draya’s) POV:

After we left Trevor’s studio session Dawn and I stopped at the store to get a bunch of junk food and various bottles of wine. We were piling up on items necessary for a “men ain’t shit” party. Odell and I were still on a break, or whatever in the hell you would call this complicated situation. Lynne and Trevor were over (or so they said). Kim was mad at Keith, and Dawn was irritated with Jayden because he had been spending less time at home. With all the drama surrounding our love lives, a sleepover was just what we needed. Odell’s mom had whisked the babies off to visit one of her best friends for the weekend. I didn’t want to be alone in my feelings, so my best friends came to my rescue.

As we drove to my house, Dawn decided to bring up Trevor’s studio session. She had been itching to ask me something since we left the studio.

“What was that back at the studio?” she questioned with a sly smile.

“What do you mean?” I asked with curiosity in my voice.

“What you and East got going on? Why is Chris always so thirsty around you?” she replied.

“Bitch, you’re delusional. East barely said anything to me other than wassup. Chris has always been thirsty when it comes to the crew.”

“No bitch, East was looking at you as if he wanted to duck off somewhere and put you on ya back,” she stated while popping her tongue.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes playfully. “East ain’t checking for me sis, and I ain’t smashing the homie.”

“Bitch, what happened to getting back on yo bully and doing these men as they do us. Fuck his friend sis! What happened to I need to experience a hoe phase?” she mocked her best friend.

“First of all, I was drunk and newly single when those words rolled off my tongue. Second, you in my business. I thought you were team Odell? Anyways, I’m chatting with someone who may have potential. Nothing serious though, a bitch got options. Why are you forcing it with East?”

“Cause that man is all types of fine! In my opinion, Odell and East aren’t tight enough to consider it smashing the homie. On the other hand, Odell is my bro, you two love the shit out of each other. Just get back together already.”

“Damn, why don’t you just suggest I sleep with the both of them?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Dawn giggled.

“Stop trying to corrupt me, I’m a good girl, best friend.”

“Be a good girl, gone bad,” she teased.

Dawn was blowing mine, but both sides of her argument were valid. East was fine as hell, but I still loved Odell so much it irked me. Pulling into my driveway, I was relieved. Dawn couldn't ask any more nosey-ass questions. Lynne and Kim had been sitting on my porch talking and waiting on us. Taking a moment to greet one another, every one helped to carry the bags inside.

“I never cheated, for the record, back when I was with you

But you believe in everything but me girl, I don't get you…”

-Drake.

After greeting each other, Brooklynne and Kimberly picked up some bags and gave me a weird look. Brushing it off I lead the group into my home. Entering the kitchen, it became clear why my friends had given me weird vibes.

“Wussam baby,” Odell said, seated on top of the island. His eyes scanned my body as his lip tucked between his teeth.

Damn, he looks good. All up in my kitchen, biting his lip and shit. Aundraya you will NOT be having sex with this man tonight! Be strong. My body had pretty much told my thoughts to fuck off. Every fiber of my being was buzzing, and I couldn’t help to think how easy it would be. One press of his hand to my back, and I’d let him rail me against the counter. Relax, girl! We mad at him. My conscience snapped me back into reality.

“Hey OJ, what are you doing here?”

Waiting for his answer, I noticed all the groceries were on the counter, and my friends had gone ghost. These heifers set me up.

“Look, don’t side-eye your girls. They had no idea I was coming. Sorry to just pop up, but I needed to see you. Since the babies are with my mama, I figured now would be a good time to talk,” he explained.

“Okay, talk then.”

He stepped down to help me onto the counter opposite him. Seeing I was comfortable, he returned to the island.

“I miss you baby-” he started.

“I’d miss me too, I’m amazing. What’s your point?” I retorted.

“Wish I knew what to do to make things right between us.”

“You could not cheat on me, that’d be a great way to fix things.” Crossing my arms over my chest with great annoyance, I let him continue.

“That shit right there, That’s one of the main reasons we can’t move past this. I’ve been telling you the same thing since we broke up. I never cheated on you, Aundraya,” he said while running his hands over his face.

“That’s your opinion,” I snapped.

“How did I cheat? I didn’t cheat physically or emotionally,” he shot back.

“Fine, let me re-word it then. You lied to me! What did I tell you back when we first started dating? What have I always been vocal about? You know what I won’t tolerate in a relationship. I’m not dealing with my man being disloyal or dishonest .”

“I never lied to you, just didn’t tell you every single detail. That’s not lying! That’s me trying to avoid adding drama to our relationship,” he replied.

“Keeping shit from me is lying, Odell! Why can’t you understand that? When you keep me in the dark, it makes it so much easier for bitches to come at me sideways. That is exactly what that bitch Krista did!

“Kristen.”

“What?”

“You said Krista, her thirsty ass named Kristen,” he smirked. Odell was trying to irritate me.

“Don’t play with me, Odell. Not right now. I will knock ya head off for toying with me like that. I don’t give one single fuck about that bird’s name. That’s your problem, everything gotta be a joke to you.”

“Just finish saying whatever it is you’re trying to say. Everything gotta be a debate or lecture with you.”

“I’m not even going to respond to that. Stop trying to gaslight me. How the fuck am I supposed to believe you when you tell me you’re not cheating, but then this bitch approaches me out of nowhere. Talking about ‘Odell left his chain at the house last night. I figured you could give it to him for me.’ Guess I can, since that’s my man. Bitch! What am I supposed to think when shit like that happens. Hoe better be glad I didn’t give her the reaction she was fiending for. Should’ve snatched that stiff ass lace front off her head.”

Odell hopped off the counter, entering Draya’s space. “Calm down. I get that it fucked you up, but it’s not like I didn’t tell you I was going to a kickback that night. I told you the only reason she had my chain was that I took it off to swim. It was a mistake to have given it to my bro’s drunk ass. Instead of putting it somewhere safe, he left it lying on the table. Didn't even know it got left behind. Kristen’s stalker ass saw it as the perfect opportunity to create a fake narrative and cause issues between us,” Odell responded.

“Yes, I remember you telling me about the party, but guess what I don’t remember? You telling me that the party was at Drake’s. That hella bitches, including your thirsty stalker ass groupie, were going to be in attendance. Let’s be real, had I tried to pull some shit like that. If a random dude approached me. My ass would be single as a pringle. There would have been no convincing you that things weren’t what they appeared to be. You would’ve cut me off with no second chances,” I said through gritted teeth while mushing his head.

“Stop! What I tell you about putting your damn hands on me? You know what, you’re right. I fucked up. Had I just told you everything this whole situation would have played out differently. C’mere,” Odell said.

I sat there looking at this man like he was crazy. My emotions were in disarray. I didn’t move I just kept mugging him.

“Aundraya, baby please come here,” he begged.

I sighed heavily and slowly slid off the counter to stand near him. “Look at me,” he said placing his hand under my chin to tilt my head up. He wrapped his other hand around my waist and pulled me closer. “Babygirl from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry. I know your trust is all fucked up. The last thing I want is for us to be apart, but you need time. Guess I have to respect that. I just have to live with it, but I need you to understand that I have never cheated. I love you more than words could ever express. I’m going to work on myself so that I can win back your trust,” he said in a sincere tone.

Odell pulled me closer and whispered, “I love you baby girl,” kissing me softly on the lips. He hugged me as if he never wanted to let go. “Well, I’ma go and let you get back to your girl's night. I’ll let myself out. Can I come to see you tomorrow? That is if you don’t have a date or sum,” Odell frowned when he stated the last part.

“No, OJ I don’t have a date. Just because we're not together right now, doesn't mean I’m dating other people. I’m all about honesty, yes a few have asked me out. I’ve declined thus far and it’s only been casual conversation.”

His jaw clenched and for a moment I thought he was going to get angry.

“I guess I deserve that, hope I don’t come across any of them. Not sure if I’d be able to control my temper,” he smirked.

“It’s not that serious, let’s just take things slow. See if we can come back from this. You can stop by tomorrow, OJ. Just because we’re not together at the moment, doesn’t mean we can’t kick it. We did start as friends, boo,” I said while smiling.

“If you gon’ be dating you should at least let me take you out too,” he winked.

“Boy, bye,” I exclaimed.

“I’m serious, mama. It could be a fresh start. Let a brotha court you, or sum,” he replied.

“I’ll think about it. Now go home, OJ.”

“When are my babies coming back?”

“You act like you carried and pushed the babies out. Your job lasted a whole fifteen minutes.”

“Be easy, that was the best thirty minutes of your life. You weren't complaining when I had you folding up. As I was saying when are my shorties coming back?”

“Boy! Ask ya, mama, stop sweating me and exit stage left. I have wine and men bashing to get to.

“You so damn rude, this my house too.”

“It was until I put your lying ass out. Bye, boo,” you retorted, blowing him a kiss.

“You so spicy, one of the many reasons I love your mean ass.”

Odell stole a quick kiss, ducking the slaps you tried to deliver. He pulled you into a hug, whispering that he loved you. Not wanting to force you to say how you felt, Odell pecked your forehead and made his departure. Standing in the kitchen, you took a second to reflect on your relationship. The conversation only left you more confused than before. Snapping out of it, you spun to walk to the living room where your friends were.

“You hoes got some explaining to do. Who let that fine ass man, who makes me weak in the knees, in my house?”

Hope you enjoyed it lovely💓.

Still plenty snippets to choose from. If anybody would like to request one that hasn’t been done go here😊.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

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pop-culturalist · 11 months

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youtube

Emeraude Toubia, Desmond Chiam, and Rome Flynn Talk Season 2 of With Love

#emeraude toubia #desmond chiam #rome flynn #with love #prime video #Youtube

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fictionalreads · 1 month

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Chicago Fire Season 12 Episode 8

Violet

It definitely means something.

LMAO “who says I meant you?”

Oh good he admitted he did it.

She’s a quick thinker

Now don’t you feel like an asshole for making those complaints against her.

Mouch

YEAH HERMANN ITS CALLED STUDYING

Gibson

HE’S BACK

Uh what’s wrong with you?

Why am I just now noticing he cut his hair?

NO NO NO Why are you standing Carver up?

Who the hell is she? If she’s new on Med, I haven’t watched since last season.

NO NO NO DRUGS ARE A BIG NO GIBSON

What the fuck Gibson? You’re not helping. At all.

Yes Carver. CONFRONT HIM

Oh is this what Gibson meant when he told Kylie there might be a spot at 51.

No it’s too soon for him to go. I refuse. He has to stay.

Oh. Oh no Gibson.

He better come back.

Kidd

Who’s Charlie.

Oh good a Charlie explanation.

OH NO ITS PULSING OUT EEEEWWWW

Awe Stellaride.

Oh no what happened to Charlie.

THAT SON OF A BITCH DOCTOR

Cruz

“I gotta stop skipping leg day”

Boden

A SHORT LIST FOR DC?! GO BODEN

Oh yeah that makes sense. She wants the job.

Oh she’s a BITCH bitch.

Ah shit she’s not playing ball. Fuck her.

Boden don’t lose your job. Please tread lightly.

BODEN DON’T LOSE YOUR JOB NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PULL THIS MOVE YOU’RE THE ONE ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT PATIENCE

I don’t feel good about the charges being dropped.

I want this bitch gone. GONE

I hate her little self satisfied smirk. I hate her face. (Not the actress’ but the character’s)

Emergencies

What the hell is that?

That doesn’t look like a simple shoulder injury.

Miscellaneous

All I know is that it better be the new paramedic making these complaints cause if they make Rome Flynn the villain I’m rioting. I want him to stick around.

I say this cause if the way they were talking about how could the new guy show up, like he should’ve been nervous and it went straight into Gibson being on edge. That doesn’t make total sense in writing but in my head it does. Also I could be overthinking.

Where’s Ritter?

Why is everybody falling apart?

#Chicago Fire #one chicago #violet mikami #derek gibson #mouch #randall mcholland #sam carver #stella kidd #kelly severide #tony #capp #christopher hermann #joe cruz #darren ritter

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koshkamartell · 11 months

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Chapter 10 - There Was A Monster In My Bed

masterlist

When I woke up the next morning Flynn was fast asleep beside me, my body curled around his from behind. I smiled and carefully extracted my arms from his waist, careful not to wake him up. He continued to snore lightly but did not stir as I got up from the bed.

I saw the time on my phone. "Fuck!" I muttered. I would be late to work if I didn't leave in the next ten minutes. Ignoring the notifications on my phone, I rushed to get ready. Before leaving the apartment I scribbled a note and left it on the nightstand beside Flynn - "hey handsome, there's leftovers and snacks. Eat! and feed Tuddy x love you."

I managed to catch the bus just in time, sighing as I took a seat by the front door. I pulled out my phone and looked through my messages and social media.

I saw a text from Joel from last night and a missed call from him an hour later.

I replied to him: hi baby, sorry for my late reply, was super tired last night and didn't check my phone until this morning. I'll call you later x

Joel: hey babydoll how was your day?

~~~~~~

At the end of the day I made my way home just before it got dark. Work had been insanely busy due to an authors celebration week in which I had to organise posters, social media campaigns, catering for the days where the authors would make guest appearances, and respond to general networking correspondence. I had to work through my lunch break and was exhausted by the end of my shift. I hadn't even been able to call Joel or get in touch with any of the girls.

As I walked from the bus stop to my apartment my heart seemed to sing in excitement to see Flynn again. I opened the front door and entered, unsure whether I should be quiet or not incase he was sleeping off the jetlag. As I kicked my shoes off I heard noises coming from the kitchen and Flynn singing to himself.

"Hey," I called out to him.

"Hey!" Flynn called back. "How was work?" I entered the kitchen and found him standing infront of the stove, one hand on his hip while the other stirred tomato sauce in a pot. I smiled at how casual and at home he looked, completely relaxed as he navigated his way around the kitchen. He looked up at me and returned my smile.

"Work was okay. I missed you." I wrapped my arms around him and he pulled me close to him with his free hand. He kissed my head. "Did you get enough rest?"

"Missed you too. Well, I woke up at 4, and that's only cos Tuddy was licking my face." Flynn turned the stove flame on low and let the wooden spoon rest against the inside of the pot. "But I feel recharged now. And starving. You wanna eat?"

I got changed into my sweat pants and a hoodie and then we ate the pasta Flynn had cooked for dinner. Afterwards we lazed on the couch and talked about everything happening in our lives, our thoughts and feelings, our happiness and sadness, the deep and meaningful discussions only certain kindred friends can share. I told him all about Joel. I held his hand as he told me about Europe, his voice dropping to a whisper as he described a brief affair in Rome that left him heart broken. I gave his hand a small squeeze and watched him silently when a tear rolled down his cheek.

Flynn couldn't be described easily. Physically he was conventionally beautiful. Standing at average height with sandy brown hair that fell just above his eyes, he possessed a boyish charm that attracted others easily. His green eyes always had a sparkle to them and his wide smile was infectious. His body was thin but muscular and toned. It was no mystery why he was often hit on by both men and women. However, it was his personality and emotional intelligence that made him exceptional; his compassion, the way he retained random bits of information, the gentle ways he tended to his friends need for support, his ability to recognise the balance between seriousness and jokes in different situations. We met when we were 10 years old. I knew he was gay from the beginning but I had been platonically in love with him ever since. Flynn returned my affection and our connection had continued through our childhood years to puberty and adulthood.

"Shit," I muttered. "I have to take out the trash, it's garbage day tomorrow." I yawned. "I hate adulting."

"I'll do it," Flynn stood up and went to the kitchen.

"You already cooked dinner," I said as I stretched out on the couch.

"Consider this a token of my appreciation for your wonderful hospitality." He gathered the trash bag from the kitchen and shot me a sweet smile as he passed me and walked to the door.

Flynn walked out of my apartment and disposed of the trash in the large garbage bin outside, completely unaware that he was being watched.

~~~~~~

I took the opportunity to give Joel a quick call while I was alone. The phone rang and rang until it reached his voicemail. I hung up and frowned. He couldn't be sleeping already. Maybe he was busy and would call me back later.

We went to bed a few hours later. I still had not heard from Pedro. I tried to push the disappointment and concern out of my mind, but Flynn sensed the tension coursing through me and rolled over to face me.

He placed his hand gently on my cheek and whispered, "don't worry, Ally, he will call back. Go to sleep."

I closed my eyes and nodded slightly. I eventually drifted off to sleep, the warmth of Flynn's body and Tuddy's weight on my legs comforting my restless mind.

~~~~~~

Earlier that night (Joel's POV)

Having not gotten a call from Alessandra all day, Joel decided to drive to Preston and check up on her. He didn't want to appear clingy, and he hated feeling so concerned, so vulnerable, about someone else's emotions and actions (or rather inactions). But he hadn't felt so deeply for another person since his marriage; he had never been very open or expressive with his feelings, but after the end of his marriage he locked his emotions away deep inside him. Now Alessandra had appeared, the walls of his heart began slowly crumbling. He parked his car across from her apartment with the intention of surprising her. His body craved her; needing to hold her close, to press her curves against him, to kiss her soft lips, to fuck her, to cradle her in his arms. Joel switched off the ignition and was about to get out of the car when Flynn emerged from the apartment.

"Who the fuck..." Joel whispered to himself in the dark, his eyes narrowing in on the handsome young man carrying the trash bag. He seemed so casual, so at home, dressed in baggy sweat pants and a tight t shirt. Who the fuck is that?

Jealousy and anger was rapidly rising inside his belly and chest. Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled, watching Flynn like a hawk.

I should get out and kick his ass.

His concentration was broken when his phone buzzed beside him on the seat. Joel looked down to see Alessandra calling. He frowned and looked back up at the young man walking back inside the apartment. When the vibration of the phone call ended, he let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. His mind raced with different thoughts as he tried to quash the rage burning inside him.

Joel sighed. The urge to confront them both was strong but he managed to compose himself enough to start the car engine and drive away.

Is this why she didn't call me back earlier? Is she fucking this guy? Probably her new boyfriend. Ofcourse she found someone younger and better looking. What the fuck would she want with me?

Wednesday morning I woke up to my alarm beeping obnoxiously close to my ear. Groaning, I turned it off and scrubbed the grit of sleep away from my eyes. I immediately recognised the lack of warmth in the bed sheets and turned to see Flynn wasn't next to me. Tuddy stirred by my legs and meowed. Together we got up and padded out to the kitchen to see where he was.

~~~~~~

"Morning, sunshine!" He greeted me cheerfully.

Flynn always was a morning person, the kind who danced along to the radio while flipping pancakes and opening the blinds to allow the sunshine to stream into the room. I, however, was not. I gave him a dour look and he laughed heartily. I sat on a stool at the kitchen bench and Tuddy went to her bowl to munch on some of her biscuits.

"Love you," I said as I took a sip of coffee.

"Made your favourite," Flynn said as he presented me a plate of pancakes with strawberries and a smattering of powdered sugar on-top, a knife and fork already on the bench. The presentation was immaculate and made my stomach growl instantly.

"And ofcourse, coffee." Flynn then set a mug of warm coffee beside the plate. I couldn't help but grin at him and he smirked back, a boastful little curl of his lips. He knew he was a good cook.

"I hope so, cos I'm broke and I need somewhere to stay a little longer, until I find a place." Flynn sighed.

"You know you can stay here as long as you need to." I began eating the pancakes. Flynn gave me a small smile.

"Oh. And don't forget to take your scarf with you to work," he said, "otherwise everyone will think you're the fantasy librarian who loves getting banged in the non fiction section after hours."

I choked on a strawberry and he guffawed.

The library was buzzing with activity again and I was grateful for the distraction it gave me from Joel's lack of contact. I tried to call him again on my lunch break but there was no answer. I then texted him; hi...are you okay? can you call me?

~~~~~~

When my phone rang a minute later, my heart skipped a beat. A huge wave of disappointment washed over me when I saw it was Toni calling.

"Hey," I answered, unable to fully disguise the hurt in my voice.

"Hey," she responded. "Are you okay? You sound sad."

"Yeah, I'm fine. How are you? What's up?"

"Well, I kinda need a favour, Al. I left my pink Gucci bag at Adam's a few weeks ago, before we broke up. I don't want to go get it alone. It's so awkward. I don't want him to know I'm coming, I just want to get it and leave. But he's still moping and trying to talk to me. Can you please come with me, like just as support?"

"Ofcourse, Tone. When?"

"Tomorrow night?"

"Okay," I sighed. Flynn has planned to go out to see some of his old work mates tomorrow night anyway. "I'll come. Pick me up at 7?"

The following evening during the drive up to Westor I told Toni about Joel not calling me back and how anxious it was making me. I tried to call him again on my lunch break today, but he didn't answer. Toni kept her eyes ahead on the road as she drove, listening patiently to me unleashing a mumbled retelling of the recent events between Joel and I. I avoided looking at her and busied my hands with scrolling for songs to play on the car's Bluetooth. She tried to comfort me that he was probably just really busy with work, and I nodded along to her words of reassurance without conviction.

~~~~~~

We arrived at Adam's place around 7.30pm. I joined Toni at his front door, holding her hand to reaffirm my presence for support. Toni took a breath in and then out before knocking on his door. We could hear music playing and several voices and shuffling coming from inside. As we waited for the door to open I squeezed Toni's hand.

Toni also finally revealed why she broke up with Adam. She recounted how the relationship developed too quickly, how suffocated she felt by his genuine care, how the possibility of her experiencing real emotions towards him scared her.

"I know, it's fucked up." She said quietly. "He's a good guy. But when he got angry that I wouldn't delete my OnlyFans account, I had to just end it. And now he won't stop calling and messaging."

When the door did open, I didn't expect to see Adam standing infront of us, with Joel and a few other guys in the background sitting around a table drinking and playing cards. I recognised one of them as Dave, the guy from the group dinner a few weeks ago. The guys all looked up at us in surprise. My heart fell when Joel's intense brown eyes met mine.

"Toni," Adam began.

"Not now," she said quickly, holding up her hand to cut him off. "I just came to get my handbag back. Please give it to me."

Joel stared at me and I saw a mix of shock and tenderness cross his face. It only lasted a few seconds before his eyes darkened, as if remembering something unpleasant, then he adopted his usual scowl and took a sip of his beer. My heart felt like crumbling so I quickly looked away and tried to focus my attention on the exchange between Toni and Adam.

Toni entered the living room while they talked hurriedly, their voices rising higher as they tried to talk over each other. Adam stood infront of her, hands gesturing in front of him desperately as he tried to be heard over Toni's loud refusal to listen to him. I could recognise Toni's patience and tolerance for Adam's pleas begin to wane, so I walked into the living room and stood beside her.

"Adam, please." I began calmly. "Toni just wants her bag back, and anything else you might have of hers. She doesn't want to talk right now. Just give us the stuff and we will go."

Toni folded her arms and glared at Adam, challenging him to rebuff my authority. He looked from me to Toni with desperation in his eyes, his hands still out infront of him as if offering some invisible gift.

"Please just let me talk. Toni can have her bag, she can have whatever she wants," Adam rambled.

I glanced at Toni but she was now looking away from Adam, arms still folded and her nose turned up. When she didn't respond, I sighed and shook my head.

"She doesn't want to hear it." I shrugged. "There's not much you can do right now. Just return the bag now, please."

Adam sighed and left the room to go retrieve her bag. Toni stood next to me tapping her foot while I purposely ignored Joel, certain that I would turn into a pathetic little mess if I saw his eyes again. David chuckled and took a sip of beer.

"What's your problem, girl?" He asked, amused at the attitude seething from Toni.

"No problem, David. Just want my shit back." Toni shot back at him without missing a beat.

"You little girls are so fuckin' demanding," he sneered. It was obvious he was a bit tipsy. "Little fuckin' brats. Think the world revolves around you and your demands."

We both looked at him with a mixture of disgust and surprise, baffled at his audacity. If Toni wasn't so exasperated she probably would have found his comment hilarious.

"Oh yes, David, the world revolves around me just because I want my fucking property returned, oh how selfish of me." Toni rolled her eyes. I giggled a little.

"And you," David addressed me, "walkin' around lookin' like a little slut covered in hickeys. That from Miller or some other little boy you're stringin' along?"

Almost immediately after the words left Dave's mouth, Joel lunged across the table and roughly grabbed him by the collar. The table rocked and bottles of beer collided and clinked onto the ground, one shattering. The men in the room began shouting all at once to diffuse the situation.

"Don't you fuckin' talk to her like that!" Joel growled in his face. Two other men scrambled to try coax Joel to let Dave go, and Adam came jogging back to the living room at the sound of the commotion.

"What the fuck is going on?" He yelled. He held Toni's handbag in one hand and a small square box with a bow on-top in the other.

Dave held his hands up in a surrender pose and Joel gave him a rough shove backwards against the wall.

No one spoke. Toni motioned for Adam to hand over the bag and he did after wedging the little box into the open zip. Toni didn't seem to notice the box when she took the bag. My heart was racing and I felt the anxiety bubbling inside my body. I glanced at Joel and he was looking at me with intensity, his breathing heavy. I suppressed the urge to jump into his arms and kiss him and run my fingers through his fluffy hair.

"David, you're a dickhead," Toni said with an impassive sigh. "A sad, miserable dickhead. And you," she pointed to Joel, who looked over to her in surprise. "Stop your fuckboy bullshit, before you ruin everything."

Toni took my hand and lead me outside to walk back to the car.

"What's a fuckboy?" We could hear one of the men inside ask the group timidly, sounding genuinely curious at the words meaning. We burst out laughing.

The elation I felt from the confrontation at Adam's house was short lived. During the drive back to Preston Toni chatted animatedly but I was too lost in my thoughts to converse much. Why would he ignore me, not even acknowledge me, but then defend my honour when some asshole was trying to insult me?

~~~~~~

When we pulled up to my place we said goodnight and hugged each other. Toni thanked me and kissed my cheek. She waited until I unlocked my door and walked into my apartment before driving away.

The place was quiet when I entered. I didn't expect Flynn to be home until much later, possibly not until the early hours of the morning. I took a shower and indulged in the comfort of the warm water hitting my skin, moaning at the way my body instantly relaxed under the flow, how my muscles seemed to throb in appreciation. I exfoliated and cleaned myself before leisurely shampooing and conditioning my hair. When I finished showering I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and went to my bedroom.

~~~~~~

I sat on my bed and dried my wet hair with the towel. What the hell was going on? I thought to myself angrily. I reacted the scene of tonight in my mind, savouring the mental images of Joel's muscles flexing in his biceps when he grabbed Dave, the look of fury on his face, the firm set of his jaw. I couldn't deny that the masculine assertion turned me on; the ferocity of Joel's need to defend me stirring a warmth inside my belly that swam down to my loins.

I laid back on the bed and spread my legs to let the towel fall off my body. The ache inbetween my legs was expanding and my mind began to replay scenes from our trysts, the feral moments of carnal ecstasy that had been seared into my memory. One hand trailed down to squeeze my breast while I moved the other to touch my clit and then dip my fingers inside me. Thinking of Joel made me become wet quickly and I moaned at the sensation of my juices covering my fingers. I began to fuck myself slowly and the tension of the day eased until it was completely replaced by pleasure. I moaned louder as I worked my fingers into a rhythm of perfect stimulation.

Joel stood on my door step with his arms folded and the same serious scowl from earlier on his face.

A sudden loud knock at my front door shattered my concentration. I froze, panting. Was Flynn home so soon? I scrambled up off the bed and quickly pulled an oversized shirt over me and slipped on a pair of short pyjama shorts.

"Uhm, coming," I called out from my bedroom, inwardly cringing at the private pun. I went to the front door and unlocked it, then opened it.

"Joel?" I mumbled, simultaneously surprised and bashful. I blinked and looked at him expectantly. "Uhm, yes?"

"Who is he?" Joel said quietly, his steely gaze set on me.

I frowned in confusion. "Who? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Joel." I said gently and shook my head. "Who do you mean?"

"He here now?" Joel asked gruffly.

His eyes roamed down my body. My cheeks blushed at the animalistic way he assessed me and I hoped he didn't realise what I had just been doing. I felt myself clench and had to stifle the moan rising in my throat. His eyes flickered back up to mine. "Tell me straight, Alessandra."

Without answering he stepped up through the doorframe and slipped past me to enter. He looked into my bedroom and then strode down the hallway to check the spare bedroom, then the kitchen, his boots thundering on the ground at every step. I shut the door and followed him.

"Joel, what the fuck?"

"Joel," I said slowly, outrage at his audacity to interrogate me building up inside my whole being. "What fucking guy?"

I stood at the living room and watched him scan the house, his large hands now sat on his hips.

"Don't lie to me." He said sharply. "Whose the guy you've been with? Go on, tell me. I can take it." Joel huffed and kept his piercing brown orbs fixed on me, waiting for my answer. "Tried to just forget it all, forget you, but I can't. I have to know. This is drivin' me crazy."

"Some young buck whose been walkin' around here like he owns the place." Joel said bitterly. The inflection in his voice made it clear he really meant 'like he owns you'. "Seen him takin' out the trash just the other night. You with him now, Alessandra?"

The realisation of what was going on dawned on me. I couldn't help laugh at the absurdity of the situation, which just made Joel shoot me a look of annoyance.

"Oh, this funny to you, huh?" He growled. I shook my head and let out another giggle.

"Joel, you're confused," I began, my hands cupping my own face in an attempt to not laugh. "That was my friend, Flynn. My best friend."

Joel scoffed in disbelief and folded his arms again. I noticed the clinching of his biceps muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt and lost my train of thought as I pictured his arms around my naked body. Fuck, he was so strong.

"Wait," I snapped myself out of the lustful distraction. "Hold on." I glared at him. "How did you know he was here? Were you spying on me?"

Joel shifted his gaze away from me and cleared his throat. "Came to see you, saw him out front."

"You know, you could've just come inside and asked me about him." I shook my head. "Besides, who the fuck are you to come here now and interrogate me like this, especially when you straight up ignored me?"

I folded my arms and stared him down, waiting for his response. Joel dragged his eyes back to me but remained silent.

"You said you wanted more, we agreed to only be with each other. You remember, after you called me childish? But here you are now, ignoring me without communicating to me what you're feeling. Exactly the opposite of what we should be doing."

I couldn't contain my feelings and felt the anger intensify the more I spoke and the longer he was quiet.

Before anything more was said, the front door to the apartment creaked open and voices laughing and talking filled the air. Joel quickly moved towards the hallway as if to confront whoever it was. I followed close behind.

I almost immediately crashed into his broad back as he suddenly came to a halt. I peeked past him and saw Flynn at the doorway embracing another guy and passionately kissing. Joel turned to me, his eyes wide with shock, a slight pink blush rushing to his cheeks. I burst out in giggles and startled Flynn and his partner.

"Shit, sorry if we woke you up," he grinned at me. I could see they were tipsy. "I told Simon to be quiet when we came in."

Simon scoffed in playful disbelief. "Liar!"

Flynn laughed and gave him a small kiss on the lips. I had met Simon a few times before and knew he was Flynn's occasional friend with benefits.

"Oh my god, is this Joel?" Flynn squeaked, unable to disguise his excitement. Joel stood awkwardly infront of me and cleared his throat, his discomfort clear. I smiled widely.

"Yep, it's him. Flynn and Simon, meet Joel. Joel, meet Flynn and Simon. Flynn is my best friend." I nudged Joel and he muttered a greeting to them.

"Nice to meet you," Flynn grinned, loving every moment of the situation as much as I was. "Sorry to be rude, but we haven't seen each other for a really long time. We have sooo much to catch up on." He tugged Simon's hand and went to the spare bedroom. "Goodnight!"

I laughed and reached for Joel's hand. "You wanna stay and talk?"

Joel sat on the side of my bed while I sat at the top in the middle, my back resting against the head board. Tuddy had climbed up and rubbed her head against Joel's belly. I couldn't help but smile at the gentle way his big hand pet her head.

~~~~~~

"Flynn has been my best friend since we were kids." I explained. "And he's gay. You haven't met him yet because he has been overseas."

"'M sorry," he mumbled without looking at me. Tuddy nudged his hand affectionately. "I wasn't thinkin' straight. I saw him and thought...you didn't want me anymore."

"Ofcourse I want you! Please don't ignore me like that again," I said softly. "Talk to me openly next time something happens."

"I will," he replied. There was a few moments of silence between us before I unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn.

"It's gettin' late. You better get some sleep." Joel gently shifted Tuddy from his lap and stood up from the bed.

"No, I'm okay, really. Please stay for a while." I had missed him so much and now he was in front of me in person I felt desperate to touch him. I patted the bed next to me and pouted, fluttering my eyelashes, knowing he wouldn't be able to say no. He paused, as if internally indecisive, then let out a small chuckle and shook his head.

"Babydoll, you know I can't resist that pretty little face." Joel sat down again, closer to me this time.

"Ooooh," I purred innocently. "So you admit that you can't say no to me?"

"Tell me, honey," Joel murmured. "What exactly were you doin' before I knocked on your door?"

Joel grinned mischievously and put his warm hand on my thigh. "It's true, especially when you're wearin' these little shorts, showin' off your cute ass."

His fingertips touched the hem of my shorts and fiddled with the fabric lightly. I parted my thighs slightly at the feeling of his large calloused fingers slowly moving onto my skin.

I could feel myself blushing instantly at his question and had to look away. He did know. My skin prickled with goosebumps and my throat felt dry with anticipation of what would happen next.

"You gettin' shy on me now?" Joel smirked.

He rested his hand on my inner thigh and I was sure he could sense the throbbing of my clit and the wetness of my pussy starting to spill onto my shorts. The combination of his touch, his low husky voice and the scent of his cologne was making my heart race and my body ache for him. "Look at me, baby."

I looked back up at him and the devilish hunger in his eyes was hypnotising. He brushed his fingertips closer to my crotch and I instinctively parted my thighs further and shifted my hips down towards him. His fingertips grazed my pussy and I heard a lot groan escape from his throat.

"Tell me, what were you doin'?"

"N-nothing," I lied breathlessly. "Just...getting ready for bed."

Joel shifted himself closer to me and his other hand slowly snaked up my opposite leg.

"Coulda sworn I heard some pretty little sounds comin' from your window," Joel murmured, his hungry gaze still locked onto my face and making me feel like weak prey dangerously close to being devoured by a much larger, stronger predator. "You tellin' me the truth, babydoll?"

Both his large hands now rested on my inner thighs, the thin material of my shorts barely covering my pussy. I let out a soft, shuddering sigh and spread my legs further apart. "Y-yes..." I whispered. Joel removed one of his hands to lift my shirt up to get a better look at my shorts.

"Fuck, look at that," he breathed, his voice low and thick with desire. He lightly pressed two thick fingers against my barely clothed clit. I moaned softly in response. "You weren't touchin' here, were you, pretty thing?"

Joel slowly began to rub circles on my clit and I let my head tilt back, shutting my eyes. He stroked me in small light circles while gripping the inside of my thigh with the other hand. His fingers squeezed into my flesh and I let out a whimper of pain.

Joel leaned in and kissed my mouth, his tongue pushing past my lips and lapping at mine. I was immediately enraptured by his scent, the faint taste of whiskey on his breath mixed with the musky, woody smell of his skin and cologne. He pressed down ontop of me and I wrapped my arms around his neck and slowly sunk down onto my back. His fingers continued massaging my clit as our kiss got deeper, my fingers tugging at the soft locks on the nape of his neck. The blissful glow of my orgasm began to build inside my body and I could feel my shorts material sticking to the wetness seeping from my pussy.

"Please," I pulled away from the kiss and whined. "I need it now." I looked up at Joel pleadingly.

"First, I want you to tell me the truth." Joel whispered on my lips.

His dark eyes were intense as he stared down at me and I thought I could detect a glimmer of icy calm in them that made me unsettled for a split second. "Were you touchin' yourself before I knocked on your door?"

I pressed my lips together and didn't respond. Joel gave my vulva a light smack that made me squeal in shock.

"Answer me," he said sternly.

"Yes," I confessed in a timid voice. "I was."

We held eye contact as he pressed a finger against the entrance of my cunt, the soaked material of my shorts acting as a barrier to the rough pad of his digit. My hips pressed downwards and I moaned and tugged again on the hair at the back of his head.

"Dirty little girl," Joel cooed. "You're so fuckin' wet."

He smirked and resumed stroking my clit. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with frustration at his teasing and the slow build up of my climax. I whined again.

"Please," I groaned. I hooked one of my legs up over his hip and light dug my nails impatiently into the skin of his neck.

"Use your words," Joel commanded. "Tell me what you want, honey."

"You," I breathed out. "Want you to fuck me."

His grip on my inner thigh tightened in response and made me squeal again. He let go and ran his hand up under my shirt to grope my breast. At the same time he repositioned himself on the bed to sit on his knees inbetween my legs. He towered over me and I could see his hard-on pressing through his jeans. Still with his hand on my breast, he began to unbuckle his belt with the other hand; watching his big hand shift deftly remove it spurred my desire even deeper. He noticed me bite my bottom lip in anticipation and smirked.

"You like the look of my belt?" He asked as he started to unbutton his jeans. My eyes flickered from his crotch to his eyes. I nodded. The brief glimmer of cold wickedness returned to his eyes. "Hold out your hands for me, sweetie."

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denimbex1986 · 16 days

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'Johnny Flynn was murdered within a week of stepping onto the set of Ripley.

The British actor plays Dickie Greenleaf in the eight-episode Netflix adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel The Talented Mr. Ripley and while he knew the character would meet an untimely demise in the story, he wasn’t prepared for it to be within days of meeting Andrew Scott, who plays the title character.

“I was just getting to know Andrew and there he is bludgeoning me and cradling my dead body,” Flynn tells Rolling Stone. “It was a good icebreaker. So basically I got to die in the first week and then I could get on with the living bits.”

Flynn initially auditioned to play Dickie—a role made famous onscreen by Jude Law in Anthony Minghella’s 1999 film—prior the the Covid pandemic. He devised an elaborate way to shoot audition tapes in his kitchen, reading all of the parts himself rather than asking someone else for help. Creator Steven Zaillian cast Flynn while he was in the midst of doing press for Autumn de Wilde’s whimsical take on Emma — and the actor still seems perplexed by how he ended up in Italy pretending to die on a boat. “I don’t know why he cast me,” Flynn says, slightly laughing.

While Ripley exists in the shadow of the acclaimed 1999 film, the Netflix series as created, written, and directed by Zaillian, has a different approach to the story. Flynn recalls being initially concerned about the love for the film when he met with Zaillian, especially having not read the novel at the time, but was quickly put at ease.

“It’s a very different tone to the film,” Flynn says. “Which is great because it’s its own thing. In film adaptations they usually have to conflate things and create extra characters to tell part of the story that don’t work unless you have a whole novel to do so. [In the film], they wanted the characters to live together for a lot longer, which made them more interesting. But the brilliance of the book is that Dickie gets killed quite early on and then the jeopardy is that Tom is being tracked and you don’t know if he’s going to be found out. Steve wanted to do something that was true to that aspect of the book in terms of the structure of the story.”

The series, filmed on location around Italy, including in Atrani, Rome, and Capri, and in New York City, was shot entirely in film noir-style black and white. It’s intended to pay homage to the cinema of the novel’s time period, a visual choice that also sets it apart from prior onscreen versions.

“If you think about the film, it’s in the summer and everything’s in bright colors,” Flynn says. “Steve wanted us to be the only people on the beach when Tom meets Dickie and Marge.”

This specificity meant that Flynn and Scott, as well as Dakota Fanning, who plays Marge, were called into rehearse scenes sometimes several months before the actual filming would take place. At first, Flynn and Scott tapped into their theater backgrounds and used the rehearsals as an opportunity to explore their characters and to try new things in the scenes. Zaillian quickly put a stop to that.

“He was like, ‘What are you doing?’” Flynn says. “The rehearsal was literally just to figure out where he was going to put the camera. We realized quite quickly that it was not for us. He knew what he wanted to do [and] he was just trying to make a final decision about which angle to shoot from. Steve had it all in his head. And that’s what makes him great. He has the whole universe of the story in his mind before he starts doing anything else and talking to people about it.”

It was a new way of working for Flynn, who deftly balances a career in theater, film and TV, and music. Before Ripley he played George Knightley in Emma and David Bowie in Stardust, an off-kilter biopic about Bowie’s first U.S. tour in 1971. He has an extensive resume on London’s West End, including productions of Jerusalem, True West, Richard III, and Twelfth Night, as does Scott. (Flynn also recently concluded a lengthy stint as Richard Burton in Sam Mendes’ The Motive and the Cue at the Noël Coward Theatre.)

“Steve knew what he wanted, but also he trusted us,” Flynn says. “The piece is framed by the writing and the way it’s shot, and that’s the storytelling device—not a generated performance. So I think the process wouldn’t have suited a lot of actors, who might have to really feel like they’re burning up and creating something new in that moment. But I realized that I could just trust the words and be in the scene and let it be without pushing too hard.”

He adds, “That need to be crazy and spontaneous and do something new and fresh is there on sets, and most projects that I’m a part of, you see actors desperately trying to come up with something new and fresh. What I learned from this is that you can take the pressure off yourself and do something interesting and very nuanced to give the camera a chance to pick up something really deep from within your soul and the subtlety of what you’re saying if you believe the words. And there’s no better actor for that than Andrew.”

The relationship between Dickie and Tom, which is complex and fraught with an undercurrent of sexual tension, and Flynn and Scott wanted to ensure there was a “sensitivity” between the characters, just as a sensitivity existed between the two actors. Flynn describes a softness to himself and Scott—“It’s odd to be talking about myself like this,” he notes—that could be translated onscreen.

“Steve wanted a tenderness that you could believe was interpreted on Tom’s part as something romantic and some kind of soul connection, but it’s a very ambiguous one,” Flynn says. “Andrew and I always said we wanted it to feel like there’s a quiet bond that you understand and that’s not explained too much. Because you’ve got to know why they’re spending that time together. For Dickie, because of where he comes from and the schools he attended, there’s a way to do things. You don’t allow your crush on another boy to actually become anything else in the society he’s part of,” he says. “The fact that Dickie won’t budge on that means there’s only one way forward for Tom. And Tom is like a shark, always moving forward.”

A significant amount of the series’ dialogue occurs in Italian. Thanks to Zaillian’s intense attention to detail, the entire cast learned to speak the language—fluently—before production. Flynn took three to four hours of Italian lessons each week (“I’ve never had anything like it,” he says). The actor did not take painting lessons to prepare for Dickie’s artistic pursuits, which are hilariously depicted in the episodes as poorly-made Picasso knock-offs. The humor of Dickie’s paintings undercut the seriousness of the visual tone, as do many of Scott’s line readings throughout the show.

“The fact that it’s funny is surprising and I loved that,” says Flynn, who remembers him and Scott laughing when they saw the prop paintings. “It’s not billing itself as a comedy. But there’s a dark humor to the books that it reflects. There’s a cruel aspect to her writing that is also very enjoyable.”

Since filming Ripley, Flynn has stayed busy. He played a violent mobster in the 2022 film The Outfit, opposite Mark Rylance, and recently appeared in the 2023 World War II drama One Life, taking on the role of real-life hero Nicholas Winton alongside Anthony Hopkins. Between filming, he’s recorded two albums with collaborator Robert Macfarlane, including last year’s The Moon Also Rises, which marked Flynn’s sixth LP. After a much-needed break, he and Macfarlane will hit the road for a U.K. tour in May.

...But for now, the actor is happy to finally lay Dickie to rest.

“When a film or a TV takes a long time to come out there’s a sense of closure when it finally does,” Flynn says. “Now, my slate is clear and there’s a nice amount of clarity around that. I can’t believe my luck to be pulled in all of these interesting directions and different experiences and different collaborations.”'

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