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spicyspencerreid · 4 years

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Just Friends| Part Three

Timothée Chalamet Imagine: Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five

Female!Reader, Dancer/Actress!Reader, CoStar!Reader, FrenchSpeaking!Reader//4713 Words

Summary of parts one and two// Reader and Timothée are best friends. They are going to be costars on a new movie where Y/n plays a dancer and has a small, but still important, role, and Timothée’s a lead. There’s a storm and Y/n’s hotel is having issues, so she has to stay in Timothée’s apartment. Timothée and Y/n are super close, share some cute special moments, but not as anything more than friends.

Warnings// Grammar/spelling and lack of proofreading, not gonna lie, this ends kinda angsty, just pain. P A I N. um, self-deprecating thoughts if you really squint, I’m sure sure much else, cute banter with Timmy, Zendaya and Ansel being epic friends

Key: French writing (english translation), Y/n/n-Your nickname, Y/f/n-Your first name, Y/l/n-Your last name

(Added July 2020) Note: this whole series was written before Ansel Elgort’s allegations arose, and honestly, in the most disrespectful way possible: I hope he rots in hell. I ALWAYS stand with the victim, and if that’s going to be a problem, find another series to read. If the mention of his name is triggering to you, PLEASE do not read. If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or abused, do not be afraid to speak up, but if that’s not the route you personally want to take: you can call 1-800-656-4673, available 24 hours every day and 100% confidential.

Not my gif: enjoy :))))

It was your last week in the most romantic city in the world, you’d had a couple of interviews, photoshoots, autograph signing events, and you were worn out to be honest, but luckily, you’d have had Timothée on your side the entire time. It was early in the morning, you were sitting on the couch, swirling around a glass of water when your phone rang and you picked it up.

“Remember that French talk show Timothée was on last year?”

“Hello to you too Kelsey...,” you could practically feel her glaring at you through the phone, “the one he went on when he was promoting Call Me By Your Name?”

“Yes and Beautiful Boy, that one, it’s called Quotidien.” you snickered and choked on your water at her pronunciation.

“Quotidien, it means daily, Kelsey.”

“Whatever, anyway they want to do an interview with you and Timothée, and then some kind of photoshoot, I’m not sure, I’ll send you the information once I get it.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“Have you talked to Kelly today?”

“Yeah, like twenty minutes ago.”

“She told me Julia was on set the other day, and she said Leighton was raving about you...” Julia was working in production on the movie, she was a good friend of Kelly, Kelly was considered your “assistant”, but since you think having an assistant is completely pointless, you just think of her as someone to talk to before interviews who also knows where you need to be at all times. As for Leighton, she was your choreographer. Someone you’ve heard of since you were a kid, an icon in the dance industry. You had only dreamed of working with her up until you got this role.

“No way, you better not be fucking with me right now.”

“Yes, way. She said and I quote, ‘Y/n? She’s the least of my worries, the easiest to work with...’”

“NO WAY. Kelly didn’t say any of that.”

“I’m serious, this is great, she thinks your great. This is good for roles in the future...you can probably count on her recommendation...” that was Kelsey all right, always thinking about the next thing. To be honest, the future had been the last thing you were thinking about.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You looked into Timothée’s room, his door open. You’d think you might’ve gotten used to early-morning Timothée by now. It’d been five weeks, and still it made your heart flutter to see him so early in the morning, his voice groggy, and his hair just a little messy. As if you and Timothée hadn’t already been close enough, the past five weeks had brought you even closer. Every night you switched off, he’d pick a movie, then you’d pick a movie. You��d have little midnight dance parties, where he’d commend you on your, as he put it, “exquisite music taste” and you’d attack him for having never really listened to Harry Styles. You almost killed him when he said his favorite song was Sign Of The Times. You thought back to the night before your first day on set.

It was almost midnight and you were starting to loose feeling in your left toe. Your skintight white tank top was holding onto your skin for dear life. You were barely sweating, you knew this turn sequence like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t sleep until you knew it was the best it could be. You’d moved the coffee table in the living room area of the apartment so you had enough space to practice, and you’d been repeating and repeating for hours.

“Can’t sleep?” Timothée had been standing in the doorway of his room, once again, you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” you moved the coffee table back to the center of the room, right across from the couch and made your way over to him.

“It’s alright I couldn’t sleep anyway, wanted a glass of water,” you walked over to the kitchen counter and he poured you a glass as well, “You know, you really need to get some sleep.” He sat down next to you, rubbing your shoulder trying to comfort you.

“I’m just really nervous.” you took another sip of your water, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand on your exposed shoulder.

“You’ve been practicing on and off all day, you’ll be fine, you’ll be great actually. I’ve seen you do those turn things so many times I practically have them memorized,” he playfully shoved you before leaving his chair and sitting his glass in the sink, “Get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight T,” you watched him walk back into his room.

“Goodnight Y/n/n,”

You walked into Timothée’s room and laid down on the bed next to him, lightly shaking him until he woke up.

“So, they want us to do a French Interview...”

“Damn Y/n. No good morning Timothée, sorry to have awaken you...” he grabbed a pillow and covered his head, you snaked your way under the blankets to nestle yourself in his arms.

“Good morning Timothée.”

“Good morning Y/n.” He pulled his head out from under the pillow to look you in the eyes.

“We should eat.”

“Y/n, I cannot believe it’s been five weeks and yet you still won’t open the fridge yourself...”

“It’s not my apartment T,” you sat up and walked to the kitchen.

“You’re so fucking polite it kills me,” he groaned and got out of bed. He opened the fridge and grabbed some fruit, just like the first night.

“The talk show, It’s the one you did those two times, for Call Me By Your Name and Beautiful Boy...”

“I remember, that’ll be fun. The host is really funny.”

“Like you funny...or?”

“Oh. Okay. I see how it is Miss Y/l/n” he picked up a blueberry and threw it your face.

“You don’t wanna start this with me, Timothée,” another blueberry hit your face.

“Oh, I think I do...” you picked up a raspberry and threw it at his nose. It was a good thing a whole food fight didn’t break when Timothée’s phone rang.

“It’s Celine,” he mouthed to you as he walked into his phone to continue to talk to his publicist.

You wanted to slap yourself every time he looked at you. How is he real? How is someone so smart, so kind, so caring, and yet still so attractive. How is someone simply just perfect.

The next day, Timothée and you took a cab to the interview venue. You got your outfit picked out, a cute little dress, and your hair done. You were freaking out, to be honest. You were nervous more than usual interviews, hopping you didn’t screw up your French. You were makeup for the interview, that you were already losing your shit over. It was your last one before you had to head back to the city, where you were set to be working with another choreographer of your dreams, training for another show, the dance world never sleeps.

“Holy fuck, I’m really nervous.” You looked up at Kelly.

“Y/n it’s French television, calm yourself.” Kelly knew better than to actually try to calm you down after working with you for so long. Your makeup artist giggled and steadied your chin as she continued to wipe away the powder still on your face.

“Doesn’t change the number of people that are gonna see it...,” Timothée opened the door to your trailer and sat in a chair next to you.

“Êtes-vous prêt à aller?” (Are you ready to go?)

“No.” You glared at him.

“Come onnn. You’ll be fine. Votre maquillage est superbe.” (Your makeup looks great.)

“Merci,” (thank you) you turned to your makeup artist who had just finished up final touches, “he said my makeup looks great.” She gave him a quick thank you and you thanked her as well. Kelly came in and told you they needed you both stage left to get ready to go on.

When they called your names Timothée escorted you with one hand on your lower back as you made your way to your seats. You knew twitter was gonna loose it’s shit over that later. The host shook both of your hands and introduced you both to the crowd.

“Aujourd’hui, nous avons l’acteur Timothée Chalamet,” (Today, we have actor Timothée Chalamet,) he paused for applause from the audience, “et, nous avons la danse et l'actrice, Y/f/n Y/l/n,” (and, we have dancer and actress Y/f/n Y/l/n,) he held for applause once again, “Maintenant, Timothée, ce n'est pas ta première fois dans l'émission,” (Now, Timothée, this is not your first time on the show,) he smiled shook his head in agreement with the host. A picture of the movie cover for Beautiful Boy came onto the screen.

“Oui, j'étais là pour Beautiful Boy,” he smiled when he saw the picture. (Yes, I was last here for Beautiful Boy)

“Je m'en souviens parce que tu étais tellement inquiet pour ton français,” (I remember because you were so worried about your French) you laughed along with the audience.

“Alors, comment ça se passe depuis, rattrape moi?” (So, how’s it going since then, catch me up?)

“Je travaille sur quelques autres projets depuis lors. Nous sommes en fait, Y/n et moi, ici en train de filmer un autre film, je ne peux pas encore en révéler trop, mais ça avance bien,” (I've been working on a few other projects since then. We are, Y/n and I, actually here filming another movie, I can't reveal too much yet, but things are going well.) The interviewer then turned to you and smiled.

“Eh bien, Mademoiselle Y/n, bonjour. Comment avez-vous été?” (Well, Miss Y/n, Hello. How have you been?)

“J'ai été bon, merci, je suis très excité d'être ici.” (I’ve been good, thank you, I’m very excited to be here.)

“Oui, c'est votre première fois dans l'émission, nous sommes très heureux de vous avoir. Et vous parlez aussi couramment le français, n'est-ce pas?” (Yes, it’s your first time on the show, we are very happy to have you. And you also speak French fluently, is that correct?) Timothée turned to watch you as you spoke.

“Oui, je veux dire que Timothée a un meilleur français que moi, euh ... mais j'ai étudié tout au long de l'école, j'ai fait quelques années à l'étranger au collège, et ma grand-mère parlait couramment. Mais nous ne parlions pas vraiment français dans la maison, so c'est ne pas parfait,” (Yes, I mean Timothée’s French is better than mine, um...but I studied throughout school, I did a few years abroad in college, and my grandmother was fluent. But we didn't really speak French around the house, so it's not perfect,) you looked up to the audience.

“Cela me semble plutôt bien,” (It sounds pretty good to me,) you smiled and let out a quiet thank you as the host complemented you, “Pourriez-vous nous en dire un peu plus sur le film?” (Could you tell us a little bit about the movie?)

“Oui, donc je ne peux vraiment pas dire grand-chose,” (Yes, so I really can’t say much,) you looked to Timothée, scared to reveal much, but he just nodded, a little sign of approval telling you to go on, “C’est donc un problème psychologique...(So, it’s a psychological...),” you looked at Timothée for a second, “Je ne sais pas 'thriller'...y a-t-il un mot pour ça?” (I don’t know how to say ‘thriller’...is there a word for it?)

“C'est juste comme l'anglais.” (It’s the same as in english.) the host nodded at you and smiled, urging you to consider.

“D’accord, desole, c'est un thriller psychologique, un peu comme le film Black Swan, je joue un danseur...” (Okay, sorry, it’s a psychological thriller, a little like the movie Black Swan, I play a dancer...)

“Et je suis soumis à des règles strictes qui me permettent de ne rien dire concernant mon personnage...” (And I am under strict rules that allow me to say absolutely nothing about my character...) the audience laughed as Timothée spoke.

“Vous deux jouez des intérêts amoureux, est-ce exact?” (You two are playing love interests, is that correct?) The host cut you off.

“Non, nous ne jouons pas d'amour, pourquoi tout le monde nous le demande?” (No, we aren’t playing love interests, why is everyone asking us that?) Timothée leaned up as he spoke, asking the host as he laughed a little. He was right, we’d have gotten that question about a million times since the public was informed we were gonna be in a movie together.

“J'aurais pu jurer, mais vous sortez tous les deux...non?” (I could’ve sworn, but you two are dating right.) you tensed up a little bit, but knew better than to show any sort of emotion.

“Non, non, non. Juste amis,” (No, no, no. Just friends.) you both hesitated then answered rather quick, speaking in sync, making the crowd laugh.

“En aucune façon, mais vous avez une si bonne chimie.”(No way, but you have such good chemistry.) The host motioned to you two and then for the crowd, in a little “am I right?” moment, and the crowd applauded. Timothée looked at you and smiled as you two laughed.

“Je suis serieux, Timothée est mon meilleur ami.” (I’m serious, Timothée’s my best friend.) you giggled, your heart dropping just a little bit every time you answered a question like this, but you made the subconscious choice to ignore the feeling.

“Nous sommes les meilleurs amis, c'est tout.” (We’re best friends, that’s it.) Timothée said as he put an arm around you and playfully squeezed your shoulder.

“Eh bien, y a-t-il d'autres intérêts amoureux dans votre vie, Y/n?” (Well, are there any other love interests in your life, Y/n?) the host turned to you. “Haha non, pas pour le moment,” (Haha no, not at the moment,) you smiled to the audience.

“Et toi, Timothée?” (And you, Timothée?)

“Um...non, pas pour le moment.” (Um...no, not at the moment.) A hesitation, a little, tiny, hesitation. One that could just be summed up by a slow translation, but you knew Timothée heard the question loud and clear. One that no one else would notice, but one that stuck in your brain.

You practically begged Timothée to just let you take a taxi to the airport, but he insisted on driving you and walking you to your gate, you drove him to the airport when he had to be in Paris a couple weeks earlier than you. You two were inseparable, that was the thing, you, Ansel, Timothée and Zendaya would spend almost every weekend together, and you were all equally close. However, you couldn’t deny the fact that you and him had a special friendship, not like the friendship you had with Z or Ansel. You guys were ride or die, you could probably go a year without talking and just pick up where you left off, not that you couldn’t say the same about you and Timothée, you could also go long amounts of time without seeing each other. Z was your all time best friend, your shoulder to cry on, you partner in crime, the person who’d make you feel comfortable in photoshoots. Ansel was Ansel. He was funny, he was comfortable, you guys had a bet that if you weren’t married in 40 years you’d move to a country where they allow you to have more than one wife and Ansel would marry both of you. While Z was your shoulder to cry on, Ansel was the one who’d cheer you up, and you were the same for each other. Ansel, Z, and you fed off of each other’s energy, and with Timothée, it was similar, but a little different. It probably had all to do with your love languages, you were both touch, meaning your way of showing love and appreciation was little lingering touches, and hugs, and holding each other. You’d have to explain yourselves on social media all the time, and you did. Constantly being asked about pictures Z or Ansel would take of you two asleep together on the couch, or him having his arm around your waist at parties, he’d play with your hair when you’d fall asleep on his lap sometimes, and fans would go crazy, like the teasing from Zendaya and Ansel wasn’t enough. He put it best in an Ellen interview.

She asked about you. Of course she did, the rumors were intense, all of the fans constantly shipping you two together, but the way he answered had always been perfect to you, “You know Ellen,” he looked up to Ellen and then to the audience, “My relationship with Y/n is so important to me, it’s a beautiful thing, really, platonic intimacy, the ability to just be with someone, and hold someone, with no romance necessary. We’re so close, we tell each other everything, we get comments on how inseparable we are, how must be dating. But the question I’ll ask is, why? Why aren’t more friendships like this? Despite anyone’s sexuality, orientation, religion, or race, despite any of it, why can’t we normalize this kind of friendship, because genuinely, it’s one of the best things in the world. And also, on a slightly separate note, the misogyny involved in dating rumors like these, it makes me feel ill. And I’m not talking about Y/n and I, I can completely understand why people assume we’re dating, we’re ridiculously close, we spend a lot of time together, and we both very touchy people, so...yeah,” he smiled, knowing Ansel and Zendaya were watching this, cracking up in their living rooms, “but, seriously, I’ve had members of my team questioned if they’re involved romantically with me. I go out to dinner with my sister, and there’s at least one article in the morning about my new, as they put it, “lover”. Why is it so hard of a concept to understand that I have many, many smart, capable, actually more than capable, extremely intelligent, young women as part of my team, that I respect so highly. Why is it the first assumption that these women are involved with me. I know people love it, I know, people are obsessed with love, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But really, something has to be done about this underlying misogyny in every single comment on my instagram posts, something has to be done, and the first step is to stop the generalizations, and to stop the assumptions, because these hard working women who work in my team, should never have to face anything like this. Y/n included too, not that she works for me, but it’s horrendous that no matter how hard she works, no matter how talented she is, and she is, she’s exceptionally talented,” he motioned to the audience, “ you’ve all seen how talented of a dancer and actress she is, yet, when someone google searches her name, a picture of her playing Aurora in one of the most decorated productions in the world, one people fly across countries to see, but you know what will come up? Me. You might have to scroll just a little bit, but a picture of me is going to come up in the mix, and it can’t be said vise versa.”

You gave him the biggest hug in the world after that interview, thanking him for being the intelligent man he was, and you guys continued to be as close as ever. Even though the four of you would hang out over the weekends, you and Timothée would also hang out during the week. You’d walk to breakfast together sometimes, your apartments in the city being really close to each others. You’d have movie nights, game nights, baking nights, nights where you’d just stay up late talking. Some nights he’d just show up at your apartment with flour and butter, even though he knew your fridge was fully stocked, and claim it was the perfect temperature outside for baking or some other random shit to give him a reason to bake with you. So having to send him off, those couple of weeks ago, wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, and he could say the exact same about you right now.

He walked you to your gate and gave you a huge hug. He wrapped his arms around you, fingers running through your hair and you nestled you head in his neck. “I’ll miss you,” you muttered into his neck.

“I’ll miss you too, call me when you land, okay?” you nodded, hugging him for just a little longer until they called your flight. You both said goodbye, he wished you a safe flight, and you were on you way. Z picked you up from the airport, and you gushed about your trip, she tried to ask you how it was staying with Timothée, but you just glared at her and switched the topic.

It had been a week, which meant Timothée was coming back in a week, you’d face-timed, stayed up late talking on the phone, and while it wasn’t the same, you still had your weekends with Ansel and Zendaya to look forward to every week. Not to mention you were training for an audition for another production like Sleeping Beauty. You’d just finish dance rehearsal with your personal trainer, and you were about to shower then get ready for dinner with Ansel and Z when your phone rang, it was Timothée. It was a little past 5:00, so you were confused, meaning it was 2:00 in the morning in Paris, you picked up.

“What’s up T, you alright?”

“Yeah...why wouldn’t I be.” You could practically feel him smirking against his phone screen.

“Well, it’s 2 in Paris, you should be sleeping.” you heard him laugh agaist the phone, you missed his smile, it’d been a fucking week, and all you could think about was how much you missed his smile. There was silence for a little bit, you could sense something was off, “What’s going on T?” “...there’s a girl,” your heart stopped, you knew it, you knew it when he hesitated in that interview, you knew. You thought about it for a split second, a girl, another girl, another you, but that’s the thing, you were you, his best friend, you weren’t you, his girlfriend. You were his best friend, you did everything you could in your two seconds to find the light in this. If he had a girlfriend, you could finally suppress this stupid crush once and for all.

“T...that’s, wow, that’s great....name! I want a name! What’s her name? Do I know her?” you wish you weren’t but you were, genuinely happy for him, if anyone deserved to be happy, it was him.

“I don’t think you do. Um...Lily, Lily Rose-Depp.”

“Timothée, of course I know who that is, she’s extremely talented, you were in The King together? We watched it together, of course I know her.”

“She’s great, really, really great. I want you to meet her.”

“Yeah...meeting her...,” you felt your eyes start to water, “go on, tell me everything. I want ever detail.” so he did. He told you about how he ran into her a couple days before before the interview, and found out she was here for a photoshoot. Then he ran into her again a couple days ago and found out that she was coming to NYC the day he was, and that he really, really, wanted you all to meet her. You said goodbye a little later, after talking about everything, you told him how happy you were for him, no matter how bad you just wanted to cry.

A couple days later you were walking home from the little cafe you ate breakfast in when you passed a magazine stand. You did a whole double take, then picked up the magazine. Lily and Timothée, her tongue deep down his throat. You didn’t know whether to throw up or cry. You turned in the opposite direction of your house and started walking. You walked until you approached Z’s apartment building, she buzzed you in almost instantly.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing here, aren’t we going out in an hour?” the tears started to stream down your face as you held up the magazine.

“I shoplifted...” you managed to get out through little sobs.

“Come here girlie,” she pulled you into you apartments and sat on the couch, you laid down with your head in her lap, crying into her legs. She stroked your head as you cried, shocked at what was happening. To be honest, this was the first time you’d cried about Timothée. The night after he told you about Lily, you’d been a little off at dinner, and while you excused it for being tired and still jet-lagged. Ansel and Z saw right through you, begging you to tell them what was going on. You told them, then made them swear they would act surprised when Timothée told them.

A little bit after you calmed down, Zendaya’s phone rang, it was Timothée. She tried to ignore it but you told her to pick up. She chatted for a minute, and you tried not to eavesdrop.

“I’m sorry...” she put down her phone and looked at you with “you’re in deep shit now” eyes

“Why, what’d he say?”

“Well, he said he tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. I said you were with me and your phone was off, he asked to talk to you I said you were in the bathroom...”

“Thank you for that...” you sighed, she hesitated, “The point, Z?”

“Him and Lily got an early flight, they’re here, and they wanna go out to dinner...” you rested your face in your hands, of course, as if tonight couldn’t get any worse, “I can get you out of it?”

“No, no I wanna meet her, it’d be rude if I didn’t go,” you laid backwards on the couch, resting your head in a pillow, “I don’t even know why I’m acting like this, this is good for him, I’m just having a lapse in judgement, I swear I’m fine.”

“Eventually, you’re gonna have to stop telling yourself that, we both know why you’re upset,” You sighed. She was right, but it was so much harder to say it out loud. “Let’s call Ansel, go out to lunch, and then we’ll come back here, and I’ll give you a hot dress to wear, come on, let’s go.”

You went out to lunch. Ansel paid for you meal once he figured out what was up with you. You all went back to Z’s apartment where she gave you a nice blue dress to wear to shut up your complaining about how you had nothing to wear, which was wrong, you had a closet full of gorgeous dressed to wear, but none of them felt good enough. She put on a red dress.

“Lily, is going to eat. her. heart. out.” you playfully slapped her.

“I’m sure she’s very nice, don’t say things like that.” you laughed.

You all left Z’s apartment, headed to the restaurant. You were practically shaking in the car.

“It’ll be quick Y/n, really, really quick, we’ll go in eat, no dessert, head out.” Ansel said as he shook you out of your daze.

“No, no let’s stay the whole night, I’m really excited about this.” He laughed, even though he knew your sarcasm was just your way of covering up your emotion. As the car pulled up to the restaurant, Ansel got the door for you and Z, you walked into the restaurant and checked your coats, and that was when you spotted them. They looked so good together, sitting next to each other at the table you had to walk towards, it was time for you to put on the best fake-happy face you could.

AH IM EXCITED TO WRITE PART FOUR EEE

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR READING

taglist that I cant believe exists omg thank you all: @sspidermanss @fandom-food-fire @gigi-maria-argu @meaganl124 @danidomm @ewistel @booklover240 @daygiowvibe @spiderdudetom @tom-hollond @ilsolee

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée smut #timothee x reader #timothee art #timothee fanfic #timothee aesthetic #timothee chamalet #zendaya #ansel elgort #just friends

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author-archive · 4 years

Photo

Author Interview: awickedplacethisis

Name: Simon

Tumblr: @awickedplacethisis

Where else you can find them: ao3

What is the main pairing you write for?

Harringrove - Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington from Stranger Things

What inspired you to start writing for them?

The obvious tension between them in the show, and all the queer subtext I could see in Billy’s character! Plus, of course, all the amazing creators I found in the fandom. I wanted to contribute too!

Do you remember the first fic you ever wrote?

The first fic I ever wrote was definitely something Harry Potter related. The first fic I SHARED was a Simon vs. fic I wrote when the book came out, when that fandom was even smaller than it still is.

What fic/scene has been the hardest for you to write and why?

Billy’s relationship with his dad is always a challenge for me to write. Because we saw so little of it, and the little we saw was a mess. There’s a lot that hits close to home, whenever I write Billy in general. When I look back to the first time I ever wrote their relationship, I just want to go back and change it all. It’s a struggle, to capture something real, there.

What inspires you?

When I write, I get a lot of inspiration from thoughts running around in my own head, true events or just random things that COULD happen, to me. To someone LIKE me. But also, a lot of the beautiful fanart in the fandom give me real good ideas for fics. Just generally in life, my inspiration comes from fiction, I think. I’ve always read a lot, and that feeling of seeing something on paper that could happen to you, or would never ever happen, having that grip you and keep you in a whole different world, that feeling means a lot to me. Literature plays a big part in all aspects of my life, in the end.

Do you have a writing process? If so, what's it like?

Oh... I don’t think I even know my own process, really. I try to always have something at hand, a phone or computer or notebook, so I can write down ideas as soon as inspiration hits. That’s probably the only consistent thing, I write down all my ideas, big ones or small ones, because I know I forget them within the minute if I don’t. And from there, I usually try to find the “eye of the storm” first. What does the whole fic revolve around? How does it come to that place? Why does it change? Honestly, my projects are messes right until they’re done. Snippets of dialogue here, some author notes to myself there, delusional 2 am writing hidden away in a corner.

How would you describe your writing style?

My writing style is... messy. But that’s why I like it. It’s filled with cut off thoughts and italics, ‘cause that’s how I think. And that’s how I’d like to imagine those characters think. It’s also slightly influenced by the poetry I read, and just other literature in general. All though I try to be careful when it comes to that, ‘cause I’d rather something be plain when it comes to wording, than to be all fancy in a way the characters would never think. My writing style is like mundane poetry, if that makes sense.

Is there anyone that influences your style?

Not really, at least not consciously. I definitely take up tips from other writers, both in fandom and published authors. I see things I like in someone else’s writing and remember it for the next time I write. Something I think influences me a little is “The book of disquiet” by Fernando Pessoa.

What's your favourite line that you've written? This was a tough one, really. Probably this one, from my fic “the first time I saw the ocean (it was in your eyes)”

“to find darker blue in the lighter, specs of green so vivid that it’s weird he’s never seen them before. Maybe he’s never really looked , before.”

It’s really not a deep line or anything, but it really just captures Steve’s unknowing longing. The way he wants but he doesn’t know what. The way he sees so much that he’s never seen before, doesn’t really know what to do with that.

What do you find to be the easiest part of writing?

I don’t know if it counts, but nsfw content is definitely the easiest and non challenging stuff for me to write. ‘Cause just on a base level, it doesn’t really hold any depth. It can, depending on what you do with it, how you write the characters inner turmoil and everythin’. Other than that, I feel like it’s easy for me to write dialogue, all sorts of it. As a theatre kid, scripts have always had a big appeal, I guess.

What's the hardest?

The hardest is definitely getting to the point. I’ll spend too many words on building up a backstory, and then the actual plot just never happens. Backstory can be nice, but some fics call for that “being plunged right into the chaos”, from the start.

Why do you write?

I write ‘cause I’ve learnt no one else is going to give me the fiction I want. No ones gonna write characters like me if I do nothing. Sure, it’s starting, the whole diversity thing. But I won’t sit around and hope someone will write a book or script a movie with characters I can see myself in. I’ll write it myself. Of course, writing is a passion of mine. It’s not just that I wanna see myself on a page or a screen. The way we have languages, ways of creating stories and immortalize them, it’s so amazing to me. And I love it.

Why do you share your work?

I share my work in hope to make someone feel something. I want people to read words I’ve put together and feel things, feel pain or happiness or sadness or hope. Anything. ‘Cause it’s so baffling to me that words can DO that. I also want other people to be able to see themselves in something. A lot of people turn to fanfiction to find some kinda story they can see themselves in, and if I make even one person feel like they belong thanks to my work, I’ve succeeded.

Is there anything you’d like to share from a current WIP?

I’ve got quite a few of ‘em, and too little organization to finish them. Here’s an excerpt from my fic “the first time you said sorry (you used all the wrong words)” - part 2 of my “a series of firsts (in a way)”

“Nothing changes, except Steve can’t stop thinking about it. And he’s great at not thinking about it, but blue eyes and rough hands and deft fingers keep following him. That feeling, too. The one that gripped him, locked him in place. It choked him, left him heaving. Maybe it’s ‘cause it was Hargrove. He’d find some way of hurting him, even if he didn’t pound his face in. Maybe it’s the queer thing. The thing he’s never, ever thought about. The thing he locked away, kept away. Maybe it’s a sign that he’s not, that it’s so wrong that his body protested against it, locked itself in.”

(Italics got removed, but you can imagine I overuse the hell outta them)

Question from an anon: as a gay man, how do you feel about straight women who enjoy m/m fanfiction?

Now, this is quite the heated subject. And I do have a lot of feelings about that. Both as a gay man, and as a fanfiction writer. First, and most importantly, if what you enjoy is not harmful to you or anyone else, it’s okay to enjoy it. I’m all for enjoying things. As a content provider, my whole goal is for people to enjoy themselves. And I’d never restrict my content to one group of people, ‘cause everyone has the right to consume free media, and I want to share my work with everyone.

Straight women have the same right to enjoy content as any other person. Whatever floats your boat, do that. But, one thing needs to be clear. Enjoying m/m fanfiction in itself is nothing more than that. It doesn’t make you an ally of the community, and it doesn’t make you apart of it. Honestly, its just fetishizing. If you consume gay porn, it’s ‘cause it gets you going. If a straight woman consciously searches out gay porn or m/m fan fiction, its fetishizing.

And the extreme fetishizing of gay men in media is a problem. We’ve been given breadcrumbs of representation only to now be used as bait for straight girls who think it’s just sooo cute to see Timothée Chalamet get fucked on screen. And I get angry about that. I get angry that the representation we need is redirected to other people, people who really don’t care about the community as a whole further than their cute gay (and cis, and white) couples. I hate that. But i can’t sit and pretend like I have some sort of moral high ground. ‘Cause I make content that feeds into that. But it’s different, with fanfiction. I make content for MYSELF, and then whoever sees it, good for them. If all of my readers were straight women, I’d be fine with that. As long as they know that all they do is enjoy porn that fits their fetish. Or, if its not the smut, its still to an extent that. Fetishizing or romanticizing a group of people. And you do you, as long as you know that’s all you do.

Enjoy the harmless content you want to enjoy. And fanfiction is harmless. Just, this is the important part, don’t act like you’re doing more than that. You’re not a gay icon or an ally or super woke for reading about two fictional characters who interacted once fuck. You’re enjoying yourself, and thats fine. But in the end, its nothing more than that. We’re a community, and you gotta stick up for everyone if you think you’re even close to an ‘ally’. Queer folk stick together. And when i say i don’t mind straight women reading my work, I gotta make one thing clear:

My work is to LGBT+ people, from someone in the community. I write because we deserve to see authentic people like us in fiction. And I’m doing my part to make at least one person feel like they can see a character and think “this is me”.

#awickedplacethisis #interview:awickedplacethisis #author interview #st author archive #staa #stranger things author archive #author archive

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