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#I want to draw Jeremy so bad you guys don’t even know
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would love to see any drawings/ur design on jeremy fizgerald (if u have any)!! /nf
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Been working on a design, can tell me what yall think!
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ofmermaidstories · 1 month
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hello, please have this list of sunday evening thoughts & things & questions without any real answers:
1.
“Gaza is basically a man-made hell on earth”, by Jeremy Scahill. A interview with a Toronto surgeon, Yasser Khan, about his latest medical mission into Gaza, and the destruction facing the people and the health-infrastructure there.
I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.
i genuinely wonder at what a future with israel looks like. not just with the palestinians they’ve displaced, but like, with the rest of the world. israel will be dismantled, eventually, but until then how long is this misery going to be allowed to drag on? the US (and UK) are like—encouraging it. they want it, it’s always been in their joint interest that israel be established. idk. i have no doubt they’ll let that genocidal boot camp of a settlement run rampant like the brain-washed, blood-thirsty nazi wave they are, but all things give—this can’t carry on. the horror our varying governments force on us by watching it will have to boil over, eventually. the question is just—how, when. capitalism has done a bang-up job of separating us in the west from each other. you can’t take down your government if you don’t know your neighbour’s name. :/
2. these comments, on the youtube videos i’ve recently watched.
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This first comment was a response to @/mynameismarines book review, ‘is to gaze upon wicked gods a colonizer romance?’. i find colonizer/colonized pairings to be intensely interesting, because they’re so often done so badly LMAO. i am not a person who believes there are topics/things you’re not allowed to write; everything is fair game. but the price of that is that you have to do it well, and by well i mean like—you have to ask yourself the question, “what does this mean for the people involved?” and you have to answer it. and you have to be prepared that at the end of the day the audience you invite might not agree with your answer!!! like, i think people in the romance/YA spheres think of colonizer/colonized as like, shorthand for a power-imbalance trope (which it does involve!) but it’s like, more than you know, some Billionaire/Secretary cliche. it’s literally the question of, ‘can you come to care about someone who is currently perpetuating the misery of your people?’ Like!!! that is a big question!!!!!!!!!! and you have to do the asking of it, the thesis of your book, justice. and that is a hard thing to do!!!!!! most of us tend to like… not like people who hurt the other people we love, LOL. so if you’re going to write that, you have to work overtime with it.
i’m sharing this comment here because it’s particularly addressing molly x. chang’s (the author of to gaze) knee-jerk reaction to (genuine, thoroughly detailed) negative reviews. which on one hand is understandable: molly was one of the targets in the goodreads sock-puppet review bombing, by one of her peers. but her reaction to these genuine reviews (brought to her attention by a third party!) has been an interesting case-study in like, why the lines between fanfic communities and traditional publishing blurring is a bad thing. because @/aclutteredlife is right, we have different rules here in our community that properly published books have, with their readers!!! i think it’s natural, for instance, for readers to be drawn to a proxy (Reader-chan for us) to be put in a position that generates a lot of angst (losing your family to a raid by a band of fantasy barbarians, for example), because that angst creates an opportunity for The Romance (the comfort, the understanding, the regret and then the assimilation into a new life with ur romance at the centre, cherished wife of the Hot Fantasy Barbarian Husband). in a fanfic, if you have issues with how it’s being presented, you might leave a dissatisfied comment—(“why is she forgetting that Hot Fantasy Barbarian Husband murdered her entire family???”)—but the general understanding is that it’s not for you, at that stage!!! like it’s probably some 14 year old kid that’s just recently discovered captivity tropes or something, like sure you can be annoyed or frustrated but if the writer doesn’t want to answer (or be asked!!!) those questions move on, you know? you didn’t spend money on this, you can hit the back button and find a different fic. complain about it to the group chat if you absolutely have to, LOL. but move on.
but when it’s a traditionally published book who’s author was supposedly given an advance for it the size of half a million dollars? half a million dollars that the publisher is going to try and make back by selling it to readers like you, who will part with your hard-earnt money for a copy? yeah. we’re not a community just trying to entertain each other and ourselves anymore, at that stage. you made a transaction. a transaction to then engage with this piece of art, and the transaction part of that exchange means you get to ask those hard, uncomfortable questions—especially if the art in question doesn’t.
this point kinda bleeds into the next one, tho, so i’ll let the screenshot speak for itself:
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LOL. yeah….. yeah. yeah. 🥹
the third comment is from the same video as the second (booktok, brainrot, and why it’s okay to be a hater), but i thought the highlighted part was interesting because it like, kinda made me think of the way things work around here on tumblr, in our fanfic corners LOL. like… you know. how we might share little soundbites about ideas, or just a throw away couple of sentences about an AU or character. and we all do it, that’s the culture of our community, i just find it interesting—telling—that it’s such a… quick and almost guaranteed way of like, getting enmeshed into the community, getting followers, etc etc etc.
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like i said, these are just some thoughts & things without any real answers to them. i am always happy to hear ur opinions too (unless they are wrong in which case i regret to inform u we will have to knife fight over it 😔😌🫱🏽🔪).
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poetryinsilence · 1 year
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Yeah fluff is great and all but what about blood and all?👀 I’m putting dom!Corey in a pedestal cuz the extended cut is what my entire one brain cell is filled with. sue me. the speed at which i wrote this terrifies me
🚨general warnings: blood and kill and all that stuff, uh, gaslighting.
Let’s go, me blorbos!
Isn’t it pretty? The colour of blood? How it runs down someone’s throat and bathe them in a new light?
Corey used to be scared- scared of the shade because it brings a warning sign. An alert that he had done something bad and the suffering of consequences are waiting for him.
Cuts used to make him squirm. Seeing flesh being torn open and soft, stringy tendons pulsate with each beat of the drum would have him hurled over and vomit. Even just the thought of it would make him sick.
Ever since the incident with Jeremy, he was- no, he accepted the fact that sometimes a drop of blood is necessary. Sometimes reopening a cut is necessary.
Killing the people around you is necessary.
However, you digress.
“You said that he was bothering you, and you wanted to get away from him. So, how am I in the wrong for helping you with your troubles?”
“I never said that! All I did was just complained about work. But, you! You straight up murdered a guy!”
“I helped you! You were stressing out and it hurts me to see you like this. He wasn’t a good guy anyway. All those secret texts that he tried to hide thinking no one’s gonna find out,” he laughs, dryly. “ No one’s gonna miss that sad sod anyway.”
“No, that wasn’t suppose to happen… You can’t take people’s lives away! It’s not for you to decide!”
But that’s where you’re wrong. You see, Corey thought the same at first. Killing is wrong. But the reason behind his killing were right. Those people were not good people. They had their own dirty little secrets; doing things that were only beneficial to no one but themselves. No, he was doing a world a favour. Even if they don’t agree with him.
He know the rights and the wrongs. Unlike Michael Myres that kills only for his amusement. Chasing the thrill of seeing the light flicker out from a person’s eyes. But what purpose does that entail? Nothing.
Corey kills for the right reason. There’s no thrill for him in ending someone’s life. The first time he killed someone he was so nervous that he threw up right after. But when he convinced himself that he’s simply taking a problem out of the equation, everything felt serene. The glide of the knife justifies everything. After that, each drop of blood fills him with content- that he was at peace with the colour red.
He was hoping you could see that. What he’s doing is right. Even if you can’t, he’ll teach you. Yes, by then, you’ll see what he sees.
“Corey, I can’t do this…”
“What are you talking about?”
“…I think we need to take some time-“
“No,”
“I’m sorry…”
Time? ‘We need to take some time’? The final thread in his brain snapped and fills him with the missing anger that he was supposed to feel. The floodgates open to the gushing of red. Yes, red. His love for you is as deep as blood, the corpses that have shed could not testify how much he loves you. You’re his.
His hand wraps around you wrist, and in the silent protest, you felt a pop of bones detach from its connection. To much of your horror, your back was met with bare walls and air exhumes from your lungs with a deadly force. Screams were stifled by his hand grip tightly around the base of your neck, the pressure digging in with each seeping blood flow. Your eyes red and tear brimmed as you could only gaze at him in shock, kicking to grasp onto gravity.
What draws your blood cold isn’t the malicious intent written across his face. There is, no nefarious glare deep within his eyes. And that’s what terrifies you. What he gave, was a boyish smile, and a playful giggle that you’d normally hear that surrounds your house on a typical Friday evening.
“I don’t think you heard me clearly. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. You’re not going anywhere. You’re mine.”
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daisyspraggins · 1 year
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Interesting Facts I Bet You By no means Knew About Dating
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I say what I think they want to listen to. For example, for those who inform somebody you are into them, they could think you are a desperate and clingy mess, entirely too forward, or simply the type of person who indiscriminately hits on everybody as if it's a pure numbers recreation. I say I'm not on the lookout for something severe, so I don't seem desperate. Yes. I'm not having them going round calling me determined. Yes. It was superior! She was thought to be a prodigy among youngsters, having begun drawing at the age of four. Long-distance relationships may work if you end up more severe or are solely fascinated by having some thrilling chat periods. A helicopter journey of town would work for me. On the a centesimal floor is an remark deck the place guests can look out over town. We’ll additionally go over Noah’s biography, details, and web value, among different issues. I go over and say hi. Immediately, so as to make sure they know you are over it! Do you wish to know what the longer term holds for you in the connection division? How else do you get out of a bad early relationship?
Jeremy Lin’s girlfriends: He has had no less than one earlier relationship. Someone inside the car fired a handgun a number of instances, and the victim was shot a minimum of once. I prefer somebody who is submissive, however not too much. I might want someone that knows learn how to have enjoyable. Yes, but not because it's fun - I do it because it is polite. Yes, but it turned out they have been bad for me. Slightly romance shouldn't be a nasty thing. I would really feel justified in notifying mutual acquaintances that they are a foul egg. They aren't afraid of the groom’s monetary issues or his age. Some guys are far too romantic. I love tall guys. I like a bearded man! I might desire a handy man. Billy Currington will not be dating anyone as of 2022. Billy is a 48-year-outdated man. Emily Skinner isn't dating anybody as of 2022. Emily is a 19-12 months-old lady. The 19-12 months-previous tv actor has had a profitable profession. The 18-yr-outdated American TikTok sensation has had a profitable career. However, it's one thing to be totally frank with a associate who you already know loves or likes and respects you, when you're completely sure that they are the one for you.
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thimbil · 3 years
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Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.
So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.
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I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.
Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.
So who is?
Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.
Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?
Hunter
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Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.
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Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.
Crosshair
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The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.
In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.
Wrecker
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In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.
You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.
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Tech
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Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.
And finally,
Echo
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Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.
The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.
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So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.
But they didn’t do that.
So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.
The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.
Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.
Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)
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None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.
This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.
Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.
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nerdzzone · 3 years
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Luckless Romance
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Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.
Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-
Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.
Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.
Please let me know what you think! 
_____
August 2015
Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.
That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.
It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.
I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.
But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.
Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.
I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.
There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.
But it was more than just that.
There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.
Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.
"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"
His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.
"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."
"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"
"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"
Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.
"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."
His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.
"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"
I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.
"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."
Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.
"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."
The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.
"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."
There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.
"Well, was that was you asked for?"
"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"
My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.
"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"
"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."
It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.
"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."
"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"
"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."
Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.
"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."
Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.
"As long as she promises to make better choices."
I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."
Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.
Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.
"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."
"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."
"Does this group need any encouragement?"
Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.
"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"
He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.
-
"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"
"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."
"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."
"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.
"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."
"Terrible is harsh!"
My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.
"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."
"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."
Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.
"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."
"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."
We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.
"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"
"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."
Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.
"Beginners luck!"
Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.
However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.
"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"
"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"
"It was clearly on your side!"
"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."
"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."
"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."
I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.
"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"
"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."
"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."
"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"
Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.
"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"
My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.
-
Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.
My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.
"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."
I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.
I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.
I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.
That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.
"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"
"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."
"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"
"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."
I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.
"Really? That's not a great area..."
"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."
"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."
"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."
"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded in response.
"Absolutely."
I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.
"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."
Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.
"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."
"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."
Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.
"Can't it be both?"
"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."
I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.
"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."
Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.
"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."
"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."
"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"
"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."
"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"
"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."
"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"
"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."
"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."
"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"
I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.
"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."
"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"
"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."
"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."
"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."
I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."
"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."
"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."
Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.
"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"
"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."
They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.
"Really? Could I see them?"
"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."
I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.
"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"
"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."
We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.
"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."
I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.
"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."
Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.
"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."
"I did not!"
"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."
"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."
"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."
I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.
"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."
"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.
"You're just drunk."
"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."
There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.
"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.
My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.
I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.
"This is me..."
Chris looked up and nodded slowly.
"It doesn't look so bad."
"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."
"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."
Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.
"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."
Chris laughed, but shook his head.
"Now who's drunk."
"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."
He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.
"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"
Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.
"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."
"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."
"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."
Friends.
Good friends.
His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.
Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.
At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.
I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.
I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.
Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.
As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.
---
July 2016
And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.
I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.
But we kept things very much friendly.
There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.
My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.
I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.
"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"
"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."
"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."
I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.
"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."
"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"
I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.
"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."
"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."
"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."
Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.
"You're impossible."
"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."
"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."
The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."
I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.
It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.
"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."
"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."
"Nah, this place is great!"
"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."
"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"
I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.
"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."
I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.
Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.
"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."
"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."
I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.
"Then we'll stay in?"
"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."
"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."
"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."
"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."
I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.
"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."
He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.
"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"
"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."
"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."
"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."
"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."
"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."
"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"
"Imaginary ones don't count."
I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.
"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."
"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."
"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."
"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."
I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.
"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."
"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"
I sighed and shook my head.
"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."
"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."
"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."
Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.
"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."
I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.
"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."
"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."
"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."
"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."
I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.
-
Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.
"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"
I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.
"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."
Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.
"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."
The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.
"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."
Chris raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? How so?"
"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."
"And what did he say?"
I scowled at the memory.
"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."
"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."
"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"
"What was this one's job?"
I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.
"A club promoter."
"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"
"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."
"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."
I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.
"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."
Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.
"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."
"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."
That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.
"What was it about then?"
"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"
Chris shrugged.
"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."
"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"
"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.
"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."
Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.
"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"
I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.
"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."
"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"
I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.
"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."
"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."
"Until now."
"It's not true!"
"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."
I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.
Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.
"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"
He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.
"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"
Demonstrate.
Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.
Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.
"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"
Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.
His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.
He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.
It was now or never.
Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.
He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.
I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.
There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.
I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.
It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.
Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.
Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.
As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.
"Are we really doing this?"
I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.
"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"
A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.
"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."
I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.
In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.
But the anticipation was practically killing me.
My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.
Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.
"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."
His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.
"Not much of an exhibitionist?"
"Not on the first date."
My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.
"Alright, that's fair."
I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.
My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.
"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"
I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.
"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.
"So, you're like, always this strong?"
Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.
"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."
My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.
"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."
Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.
"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."
With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.
I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.
Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.
"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."
"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"
"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."
He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.
I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.
I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.
"Now, it's your turn."
"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."
I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.
"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."
I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.
"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."
His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.
"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.
So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.
"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."
I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.
It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.
Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.
However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.
"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.
I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.
His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.
"Like what you see?"
His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.
"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."
"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."
Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.
I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.
"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."
I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.
He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.
I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.
He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.
As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.
"Well?"
"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."
Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.
"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."
"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."
Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.
He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.
"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."
He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.
"Only because you're huge."
I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.
"Thank you."
I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.
I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.
The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.
I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.
"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.
It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.
"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.
"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."
A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.
"You heard about that?"
He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.
"Everyone heard about that," I teased.
He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.
"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."
His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.
"Atta girl, Winnie..."
His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.
My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.
"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."
His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.
The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.
After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.
"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."
I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.
"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."
He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.
"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"
His question made my own smile widen even more.
"Of course not!"
He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.
I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.
-
The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.
I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.
Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.
At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.
After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.
By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.
He wasn't coming back.
It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.
We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.
One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.
The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.
But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.
-
Part Two
Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces
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Charlie’s New Friend // Charlie Gillespie
Summary: Charlie’s fallen for the casting director and Kenny’s right hand for Julie and the Phantoms. After a day doesn’t go the way it should the cast meets a little newcomer changing the dynamics with Charlie.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, single!parent!reader,  pure fluff
Words: 5.3k
A/N: Hi! In this fic there’s a stuffed animal and it’s important to speak about in this note. I found the stuffed animal on a website for Canadian Wildlife Federation that uses the money from each purchase to support the research and programs for species at risk. The Snowy Owl stuffed animal features in this fic has the proceeds go to protect the Canadian Arctic!
Website to the Canadian Wildlife Federation Adopt an Animal
Masterlist
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Everyone has bad days when it happens, you often blared ‘Bad Day’ by Daniel Powter, in their lives. No stranger to those days it seemed today was the recent worse one when your coffee machine broke, your tea cabinet was barren, and Faye decided to dirty your shirt. Then the daycare called informing you of necessary renovations to bring it back to Code. That left you to do the one thing you really didn’t want to do.
You had to bring your daughter to work on the set of Julie and the Phantoms as Faye’s father was filming in England. You had no doubts he would have dropped everything to care for her if he was in the same town let alone state. The positive was that Kenny was aware of your situation and had pleaded for Faye to visit set.
“I need to go to the store after work.” You mumbled over the irritating children’s music that Faye adored. That or the flashing lights on the television during the half-hour each night you got supper ready.
Parking in your assigned spot you made quick work of release the baby carrier from the secure bucket. Faye slept through the entire transition to the stroller with the component that locked the car seat on it.
“Let’s rock ‘n roll Tink.” You told the sleeping infant with the baby bag slung over your shoulder and the pretty light purple blanket covering Faye’s tiny body.
Now while Kenny knew about your daughter, the rest of the cast was definitely unaware given you often passed on dinner. The few times you had joined was when Faye’s father was in town to see your shared daughter.
“Who’s this cutie?” Tori asked, stepping in unison with to view the adorable little baby with brunette curls hidden by her little toque.
“This is my daughter Faye.” You whispered as a suckling sound came from Faye’s open mouth as little snores came out, “Daycare is closed for renovations, and I don’t have a backup plan.”
Tori’s eyebrows raised as you dropped a somewhat surprising fact about part of your life you kept quiet. In no way, shape or form did you feel ashamed by Faye’s existence. Faye’s father was hands-on and very supportive, even if Faye had been a surprise.
“I never knew you had a child.” Tori blinked melting as the infant cooed in the stroller hidden from the sun via the visor.
Tori’s scrutiny of the little baby allowed her to catch the similarities such as the nose and mouth, but the rest was the father. There was something in Faye’s features that tickled her mind as if she had seen them before.
“It’s not something I like to flaunt. I prefer keeping my work life separate from my personal life.” You informed the seasoned dancer and choreographer.
A few more words of conversation commenced until Tori was called over to Paul with a clipboard in hand. The incessant feeling of eyes peering at you on the walk to the modest trailer you shared with Tori. It was easier for crew members to share trailers with the little time you typically spent in them.
With practised ease, your hands unstrapped Faye from her stroller into your arms where she cuddled into your neck. For the most part, Faye was an easy-going baby with an affinity for cuddling, but of course, that didn’t make her perfectly well behaved.
“Best be getting over to the office.” You cooed at the suckling sound Faye made with her fist pressed against her open mouth.
Kenny had personally hired you after working on Descendants as a casting director with healthy mutual respect. Often if at the time you were free, you found yourself working with the legendary man. He was lenient with the new addition of Faye as well, going as far as to see he was a great-uncle.
“Would this be Miss Faye?” Kenny asked from his seat at the head of the table with a handful of filled cars.
Jeremy, Owen, Madi, and Savannah sat with the newest script for the next episode leaving you to avoid looking at Charlie. Now it the typical Wattpad storyline you had fallen for the Canadian actor who reciprocated the feelings. A few hangouts and flirting, but he had no clue about the most significant piece of your life.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t have a sitter, and the daycare had unforeseen extensive renovations.” You spoke softly bouncing as Faye’s little body tensed up with a whimper.
“I’ve been begging you to bring her on set. It’s about time.” Kenny retorted walking swiftly to coo over the little girl. His action bringing the cast members closer, Charlie’s solemn stare never leaving as he came closer.
“She’s so cute! How old is she?” Savannah questioned as the brown-eyed little girl blinked at the multiple faces.
“Eight months now. My little surprise.”
“Definitely a surprise for sure,” Charlie mumbled just on the cusp of everyone being able to hear, but Faye had all the attention.
Within seconds Faye had found herself in the arms of Owen with funny faces to get the little baby to laugh. Savannah, with your permission, had started snapping pictures of Faye’s interactions with everyone. Kenny had retreated to his computer while Charlie pulled you just outside the door.
“You have a kid?” Charlie hissed keeping distance between the two of you as the situation settled, “We’ve been on a handful of dates, and you kept your baby a secret?”
Your heart sank, “Do you know the chances of a guy dating someone with a kid? Joshua Jackson’s character in Mighty Ducks talking with his coach? Guys left his mom in the dust when they caught a glance of him.”
“You know me.” Charlie stressed glancing over his shoulder at the distracted group of young adults. Faye’s giggle drawing awes from every single individual in the room, even Charlie’s lips quirked at the sound.
“Charlie, that little girl is my blood. Every single decision I make has her in mind. I wasn’t keeping her from you maliciously.” You informed him trying to meet his gaze, “Her name is Faye Eloise. She adores music and this tiny fox her uncles got her.”
Charlie’s shoulder lowered slightly, “She is pretty cute.”
“Her laugh is my favourite sound in the entire world. She’s a replica of her father more than me.” Your lips lifted gazing over Charlie’s shoulder to Kenny, engaging in a one-sided conversation with Faye.
Charlie’s green gaze examine our expression pinned on the tiny little human you had bonded for months with. The pure adoration coating your features softened the ball of anger in Charlie’s belly, that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. But seeing the fundamental protective instincts you displayed, your body coiled to dash to Faye. Your gaze that periodically ensured Faye was safe.
Charlie saw the maternal love that poured out of you that he often caught in his own mother’s eyes. That very thought led to an in-depth conversation with his mom later when he was in the safety of his bedroom.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Jeanette spoke with her phone on speaker. The silence drawing her concern, “Charlie? Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure. That girl I’ve been seeing?”
“Y/N, she’s on the crew with Kenny. She’s all you’ve been talking about lately, and you’ve already told me she may be The One.” The words caused Charlie to involuntarily smile at the call after the second date with you. Charlie didn’t feel half-hearted, he felt with his entire soul.
“I still think she is, but she’s a package deal,” Charlie admitted scrubbing one hand through his hair sending the bandana keeping his hair out his face to his lap.
Jeanette took a moment in cleaning her kitchen to sit at the island to click the phone off the speaker. The phone resting against her ear, she gave her full attention to her youngest son.
“Charles. I don’t want to ask you this, but is she pregnant?” Jeanette questioned, holding her breath in complete anticipation. She’d like a few grandkids but preferably when the time was right for her children.
“No. Mom! I didn’t get her pregnant.” Charlie groaned at the hesitant toe tipping into a conversation he’d rather not relive from his teens, “She has a daughter.”
“And? Is that a deal-breaker for you? You talk like she’s the love of your life Charlie, you’ve never spoken about any of your previous girlfriends like that. You’re not even officially dating her either.” Jeanette replied, watching Meghan settle in for an episode of her current favourite show; the only Gillespie child visiting at the moment, “Are you willing to walk away because she had a child?”
“Faye is absolut-“
“-sounds like you answered the question with the adoration in your voice. You don’t have to run to the nearest chapel to get married. If you love both of them, give it a shot.” Jeanette advised her son smiling when Charlie’s breathing evened out more.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Jeanette knew in her very marrow that in time she would meet little Faye, call it mother’s intuition but she was sure of it.
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It was the week of hell with the daycare still shut down, your back up babysitter on vacation and Faye upset. Charlie barely spoke to you as he tried to find his footing in the new dynamic and the space he had rightfully asked for. It was hell seeing him at work and only speaking for work requirements.
“Sh.” You hushed bouncing with Faye curled in your arms as her mouth twisted, “As a casting director and Kenny’s complete faith in me. I made a suggestion to Soyon.”
A line appeared between your eyebrows as Faye’s snuffled against your soft hoodie while trying to focus on the cast. The boys, Madi and Booboo sat in the room for a short meeting during the time the next scene was being set up.
“Kenny and I talked about your personal connection to your characters. There’s the smallest disjoint some of you have. Kenny’s always preached about everyone having a voice and to make suggestions.” You could cry as the ache in your arms increased from holding Faye, she’d cry every time you tried to put her down.
Mom life when you can’t put your baby down to pee alone in peace. Faye getting her shots and recovering from a stomach bug didn’t help.
“Are you okay?” Madi asked, catching the expression that came and went in seconds. The cast watching as you continued to walk around the room with Faye.
“I’ll be fine.” You shrugged the concern off closing your eyes to ground herself once more juggling the concern for Faye with your job, “Soyon and I want you to put a personal detail in your character’s style. If you think of anythi-“
Faye’s sharp cry echoed in the room, “Shh. I’m so sorry guys. I’d put her down, but she won’t settle-“
The cuts ended when Faye was gently tugged from you into a warm chest and soft coos in the little baby’s ears. Your sore arms dropping as Faye’s weight was coaxed into Charlie’s body and your jaw dropped. Charlie’s rhythmic pace and soft coos turning into a lullaby easing the baby.
“Wha-“
“-can’t have the little boss upset.” Charlie shot a coy smile resurrecting the confidence in the relationship. The smile grew when Charlie’s tiny nod at your unspoken question eased you.
“Is there anything you’d like added to your character? Outfit suggestions?” You inquired catching the hesitant gaze of the young actress.
The Puerto Rican teenager had quickly become a game-changer for the production as a first time with such an incredible talent. The second you saw Madi’s audition tape it had sealed the most critical role; Kenny adored the audition tape you had forwarded so fast.
“Could we do something for my mom?” Madi asked, biting her lip as your eyes encouraged her to delve deeper into the request, “My mom is in the army, and I’d like to pay homage to her?”
Your hand landed on her own in a squeeze, “We can absolutely do that. Head over to Soyon when you have a moment. What about you, guys?”
The three boys had gone quiet as Faye settled into a sleep you had been begging for since she missed her morning nap. Charlie had gone from softly singing to humming in the infant’s ear while Jeremy and Owen watched.
“Do you think Luke could carry the Rabbit’s Foot?” Charlie whispered, resting his head against the infant in his arms.
“I’m sure Soyon would have no trouble with that. Jeremy, Owen if you figure something out just let Soyon know. All suggestions are welcomed.” You informed the duo before starting to reach for Faye.
 Charlie stepped back while the 2/3rds of Sunset Curve left with Faye still held securely bouncing a small degree. The scene warmed your heart as Faye slept for the first time in what felt like years.
“I can take her if you want.” You told the actor with arms already reaching out to him but contradicting your expectations he’d back off.
Charlie’s green eyes focused solely on the tiny mouth opened just slightly with the soft breaths wafting from her small frame. At that moment cradling the small life the wall separating him shattered; the love flooded his veins, and he knew. He would fight anyone that hurt the little angel with no consequences in mind.
 “I’d like to hold her longer. I need the practice for when you need a nap.” Charlie replied, shifting his gaze onto your form. Charlie’s heart clenched at the unsure glint in the eye of Faye’s mother.
“Oh.” You simply spoke stepping closer to the man that had easily stolen your heart, holding your entire world in his gentle hands.
“I know it won’t be easy, but I would really like to give us a real chance. No secrets anymore. The minute I saw her, my heart melted, but I got scared, and I’ll always carry that regret in my life. I want to be here for you and for Faye.”
Charlie fell into the father figure as easy as breathing creating a bond that almost made you jealous with the ease. He adored playing music during Faye’s bath time, and in the special bath time with bubbles, he would create a beard; it sent Faye into giggles every time. He absolutely loved when you brought Faye to set.
Leaving Faye in Charlie’s capable hands, you had taken your break from work to freshen up in the washroom. Grabbing a quick bite, you rushed back to Charlie having gone over your time by a complete accident.
“I am so sorry! I got distracted by-“ You were almost surprised the sudden stop in motion would cause a burnout. Working through lines was Jeremy, Owen and Charlie; Charlie new accessory being a baby sling with Faye strapped against his chest.
“Hey, Babe! We have no filming the afternoon of Friday, it’s blocked for Madi. Jer and Carolynn offered to babysit. We could do a date night.” Charlie fully turned to face you lightly bouncing to keep Faye settled.
The sight of Charlie with Faye securely in the baby sling, one that you didn’t own and was the best one on the market, was incredibly sweet. It was at that moment that you just knew that Charlie was The One and you are deeply in love with him.
“They don’t have to. I was planning on telling you tonight that Faye’s father is in town, he has Faye for Friday to Sunday. You informed Charlie as he walked closer to tug you into his embrace with Faye.
Now while you had been dating Charlie for two months at this point, the topic of who Faye’s father hadn’t come up. It was a topic that found its way for discussion, but his name never came up; it didn’t matter.
“Oh. we should give them a moment.” Owen whispered to his fellow actor and friend. With a withering glance, they froze in their places.
“Why? Faye’s father is an amazing guy. He has a specific time for calling Faye, we have a group chat for Faye. We send pictures and updates to him.” Charlie informed them, “There are no hard feelings. We all trust each other even if I’ve never met him.”
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When Friday came along, it sent Charlie into a near-constant state of panic with the thought of meeting Faye’s father. He couldn’t sit still, well it’s Charlie he can’t sit still, but this was nervous energy. He’d contribute little to the conversations with eyes periodically checking the time.
Charlie was alone without you or Faye on set, you had let Kenny know the significance of the date. Charlie had left your apartment with a kiss from both you and Faye in order for the apartment to be cleaned up.
“What’s up with him?” Madi inquired as her tray made contact with the table shared by her ghostly trio. Jer sent a look to Owen before answering.
“It’s the weekend that Faye’s father will be in town. Charlie’s freaking out about meeting him.” Jeremy supplied typing a reply to Carolynn from just before lunch.
“Oh, is he worried about Y/N getting back together with him?” Madi asked jabbing the straw into her drink. Her brown gaze watching Charlie’s leg bounce like a jackhammer.
“No. Not about that. His scenes are done so he’s waiting for Y/N to pick him up.” Owen stated, leaning back as the man in question took off running in his street clothes to the parking lot, “Did he leave burn marks with that sprint?”
In the typical routine that never stopped the flutters in his stomach, you leaned over to hum into a kiss. Breaking apart Charlie caressed your finger gently before straightening into the passenger seat. Out of habit, he checks over his shoulder where Faye was strapped in her car seat.
“Oh, one moment,” Charlie exclaimed jumping out of the vehicle to open the back door. He quickly in to kiss Faye on her forehead, “I missed you Bug.”
Faye’s giggled in response as Charlie closed the backdoor to return to the passenger seat with a beaming grin. Charlie loved his girls with all his heart even in the short amount of time he had been in their lives.
“We’re meeting at his place.” You told the Canadian actor focusing on the drive, “He’s been renting a place since Faye was born. It’s easier for everyone to not stay in a hotel or an apartment.”
Charlie hummed in response, watching as you left the general vicinity of the set for one of the gated communities. It wasn’t the incredibly high-end community, but it was on the pricier side, but it was safe. His eyebrows raised at the houses the vehicle passed as he sang for the baby in the back.
“This is where he’s renting?” Charlie scoffed scanning the vast neighbourhood of houses, “Whoa.”
The chuckle fell from your lips as you pulled into the driveway of the address you had received via text messages. You had barely stepped out of the vehicle when Charlie already had Faye’s car seat in his arms. Cradled in the crook of his arm he held out his free hand to intertwine with yours.
“Any advice before we go in there?” Charlie questioned glancing at Faye gurgling with her stuffed Snowy Owl.
So passionate for nature, he had found an organization that sells the stuffed animals of animals in jeopardy. The money from sales of the stuffed animals when to saving the animal bought, so when he got Faye the Snowy Owl, it put money towards saving the animal. Faye adored her stuffed owl just as much as the person that bought it.
“Just be yourself. Tom and you are similar in terms of people down to earth and close with your family.” You informed him of pushing the button for the doorbell while Charlie stared at you.
“His name is Tom?” Charlie asked thinking back to the messages he had added as Faye’s father, he felt stupid he didn’t know the name of the guy who was a big part of your life.
“Did we never introduce you in the group chat?” You questioned as the door opened to the 5’8 brunette and glittering brown eyes.
Charlie’s eyes widened at the first physical appearance of your ex and Faye’s father standing in front of him. Tom was the same height as Charlie with brown eyes and a pale complexion but a childlike aura. Tom’s eyes met Charlie’s before they beamed down to the happy baby.
“’ello. Come on in.” Tom ushered you and Charlie into the home straight to the living room, “I’m Tom, can I get you anything to drink?”
“Charlie.” The Canadian actor spoke, shaking his hand with an equally welcoming smile as you gently took Faye out of her car seat.
“Hi, little Holly.” Tom cooed as his now eleventh-month-old child lunged into his arms with loud giggles, “That’s a cute owl you have there.”
“Y/N!” The overjoyed announcement came from Tom’s young brother Harry holding the camera that you’d never seen more than a few metres from him.
Faye’s uncle quickly squeezed you in a tight hug before pulling away to scan your form as if something drastic had changed. Charlie awkwardly watched as he settled into a little family, he wasn’t familiar with.
“Charlie, this is Tom’s younger brother Harry. Harry this is my boyfriend Charlie who I met on the set of his show.” You gestured for Charlie to come closer and just like that the three guys acted like they’d been friends for years.
You and Charlie didn’t linger at Tom’s house more than an hour to give Tom’s the entire weekend with his daughter. Of course, you would worry about her the whole time, but you also knew Tom didn’t need any help. You completely trusted him, but you can’t help it when the child is yours.
“Where’d you get Faye the owl?” Tom asked, leading Charlie to beam in excitement.
“Oh! Well, I use my platform to bring awareness and support to the environment internationally. The Canadian Wildlife Federation has a website that sells adoption kits for animals. Every purchase of the animal in their Adopt-an-Animal program funds the research and critical conservation programs for at-risk species.” Charlie used his hands as he rambled on, “By adopting this stuffed Snowy Owl it further funding for conservation efforts to protect Canada’s Arctic environments.”
Tom’s lips pulled into a grin, “My brothers and I have a charity we use to host events to raise money for the smaller charities. Maybe in the future, we sit down for a deeper conversation? You can send me a few links that I can share as well.”
“We have dinner plans. Keep me posted?” You interrupted, leaning into Charlie’s warm side with a kind smile to Tom.
Goodbyes shared you left the house with Charlie to the vehicle he adamantly asked to drive with that charming smile. The radio on low you watched the scenery go by.
“Tom’s an amazing guy. Family-oriented, kind, supportive, charitable and a really nice guy. Why did you guys break up?” Charlie asked, glancing at you from the corner of his green eyes. Your eyes, however, kept focused on the blurry landscape.
It wasn’t a way to avoid the question, “We became acquainted on Instagram back before he landed the role of Spider-Man. Over time it developed into a relationship that wasn’t serious or long term. We actually broke up a week after we conceived Faye.”
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The two individuals stared stock still at the screen of black, white and shades of grey on the monitor. The tiny little bean moving around with the consistent thudding in the background. Your lips parted as the doctor’s words of a positive pregnancy, repeating like a broken record. Tom’s handheld tight as he digested the news.
His ex-girlfriend of three months, you to be precise, had been the safe place for a fetus to grow. Estimated gestation of eleven weeks it felt the two young adults spiralling with the large what-ifs making their presence known.
“Pregnant. That’s a baby.” The words came out shaky on the British man’s lips, “I put that baby in you. You are carrying my child, but it’s your choice if you want to keep the baby. It’s your body going through the changes.”
“I’d like to keep baby H.” You softly responded, sharing a smile of disbelief as it settled that a life-changing event would come to fruition in six months.
“We tried to make it work, but it became obvious that the spark had been gone for too long. I’ll always care for him and love him, but I’m not in love with him.” You told Charlie as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant chosen for the date.
“He’s a really good guy.”
“He’s an amazing father. I lucked out in the romance department, to be honest even if it didn’t work out with Tom.”
The topic was shelved for lighter conversation based on the things you missed on set today. Owen almost broke his nose in some stupid stunt that Charlie was involved in while you recounted the new music Faye had taken to.
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Julie and the Phantoms renewed for a second season with a few new characters being introduced such as paramedic Lucy. Lucy would be a recurring character on the show with a connection to the boys. Julie would detest the woman that she believed was trying to replace her mother, and that would cause tension with her father. It would bring in a storyline for Ray manoeuvring his way through the guilt of finding someone attractive other than his wife. Beyond Ray, the boys would know Lucy as she was a rookie paramedic called to their accident site in the ‘90s.
With the new character and some more recurring ones, Kenny had wholly placed his trust in your again. Working from home due to the pandemic you compiled an extensive list of potential actors.
“Supper is ready.” Charlie breathed leaning down to kiss your cheek in the home office you shared together.
In his arms was Faye who had recently turned two years old with bouncy brown volumized curls with your eye colour. Faye loved being outside in the backyard or short hikes with Charlie vigilantly keeping an eye on her walking. Often you let the hiking be their thing together while you had the alone time or worked.
“Smells good.” You breathed kissing over to kiss the little girl, “Hello Tink. Are you excited to see Nana and Papa?”
“Mhm!” Faye spoke with her eyes twinkling at seeing her English grandparents with their silly accents. With her grandparents came their rambunctious uncles Harry, Sam and Paddy and her favourite family member Tessa.
“Daddy can’t wait to bring you to where he grew up.” Your fingers gently pushed the rebellious curl off her pudgy cheek.
“Then Dad and Mom can go on their honeymoon.” Charlie joked with a peck on the cheek of his little girl.
The glint of the ring on Charlie’s finger screamed at you with the recent memory of the intimate wedding. It had taken place a few months ago with your family and friends in attendance with Tom as well. He had even stood up with Charlie and even had a charming speech.
Gillespie Wedding
The Brit shuffled on the stage just before the guests all wearing masks and spaced following guidelines for the pandemic. His own black mask hung off one ear as he stepped up to the microphone.
“Hello, my name is Tom.” He introduced himself setting his eyes on the wedding party table with a grin, “Some may find it off for an ex-partner to be a guest at the wedding let alone being a part of the wedding party. Some of you know that I share an absolutely gorgeous and rambunctious little toddler with the bride.”
Faye waved enthusiastically from her seat beside her mother earning a chuckle from the attendants.
“I was blessed with meeting Y/N and having a daughter with her. We’re not like a lot of ex-couples because we remained close friends. She was open from the moment she knew there was something with a certain Canadian actor. The three of us created a group chat to share updates for Faye like when she popped her first molar tooth. The was a period I never want to relive” Tom laughed shaking his head with his deep brown eyes scanning the crowd, “Charlie had no clue that I was Faye’s father and his expression was priceless.”
“I never mentioned his name to Charlie! I never even realized until we dropped Faye off. Charlie knew Tom is an actor but not one of the Tom’s in Marvel.” You shouted over the laughter from the guests.
“We bonded, and we’ve never had any issues with our places in the lives of these darling young women. Faye has a loving mother and two fathers that will help her navigate life and protect her. I want to tell Charlie this: when Faye graduates from high school and maybe university if she decides to continue formal education and her wedding. You’ll be walking her down the aisle with me. I consider you one of my best friends, and there is no one else in this world I would trust with my little girl. I wish the bride and groom lifelong happiness in the new chapter. To Charlie and Y/N Gillespie!”
Now months later you had moved into a four-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles with Charlie and Faye. For the time being the third bedroom was rented out to Owen when he was in town to lower your rental fees and give him a stable residence. For a four-bedroom apartment, it was on the smaller size, but it was close to areas for Charlie to hike.
“How are you feeling?” Charlie murmured helping you off the couch revealing the bump you had been sporting for a while.
Baby Gillespie was healthy and robust and very much a surprise to the young couple. Charlie was sure the baby would be a boy while you full-heartedly believed Faye would have a little sister.
“Can’t wait for this little bun to be in our arms.” One hand coming to rest on top of his hand over the warm crewneck sweater.
The sweater came from a package of gifts Madison’s family had sent to celebrate the news of the baby on the way. The sweater was a light grey colour with the outline of phantom blobs with their guitars. The only addition was a baby phantom blob with over-ear headphones with a pacifier in the mouth. Absolutely adorable and a gift to be cherished.
“I still think if baby G is a girl, we name her Lucy.” Charlie teased leaning forward with the belly, keeping him at a distance.
“We are-“ The words unheard as Faye made her appearance known on the baby monitor keeping an eye on the toddler. Charlie was turning the corner from the living room to grab the little girl.
“Hey, sweet Angel.” Charlie’s soft words came through the speaker with the same care he’d shown her the entirety he’d known her.
You really did luck out with a beautiful daughter adored by both her fathers she had wrapped around her pinky. The paternity of Faye didn’t matter to Tom or Charlie, both mutually respecting each other with no ill will. The two male actors had grown a lovely friendship on mutual interests and passion for the environment and charity.
The fond smile grew as your eyes found the picture from Faye’s first birthday; her hands high in the ear coated in the smashed cake. Pudgy cheeks a rosy pink with Charlie and Tom on each side kissing her cheeks. Tom’s brother Harry had caught the candid picture with Faye’s infectious smile and surrounded by the love of her family.
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autisticandroids · 3 years
Note
I appreciate you being Dean concerned and not Dean critical. I’m sure you’ve already answered this before but what do you genuinely like about him? A lot of his good traits get twisted in your meta (and in the show) which is really interesting! But like. What about him do you just think is neat?
Also, you don’t talk about Sam a lot but I’m rewatching season 8 and it really feels like both a continuation of preseason one -> season one (Sam has a normal life, Dean is gone -> Sam wants to return to his normal life but Dean coming back gets him back in the game) which also gives it finale vibes :(
Besides the fact that the stuff with Amelia is really boring, it all just feels ooc and like a step back for Sam. Not to go on a rant but Sam seemed to finally make peace with his life back in season 7.
The stuff with Amelia also has both the same and the exact opposite energy as the stuff with Lisa. During his time with Lisa, it was always like Dean had one foot out the door back to hunting. During his time when he goes back to hunting with Dean in season 8, it feels like Sam always has one foot out the door back to Amelia.
That and I just can’t bring myself to give a shit about Amelia (maybe because she’s boring and inconsistent, maybe because info about her is drop fed instead of presented mostly all at once like with Lisa in season 6, maybe because she’s just shoved in for something for Sam to be up to and it feels ooc to me idk)
I thought I’d like season 8 (and I do really like a lot of Cas’ stuff but he’s always my favorite anyway so that was basically gaurenteed) but a lot of the stuff just makes my brain feel like a white noise machine. I’m only on episode 10 so I’m sure it’ll get better for me once the Sam stuff gets resolved but for now it’s very.... eh.
Thoughts?
okay so, what i like about dean. hm. that's hard! i love dean, for all sorts of reasons, and i know i'll miss stuff, but: - he charms me, on a sort of pure, animal level. he's very charming, that's true within the show but it's true for the audience, or at least me, as well. he's funny, he's affectionate, he's sweet, and he tries so hard. and it makes me love him - he's compellingly tragic. like dean is a fucked up guy, he hurts both himself and everyone around him because of patterns of trauma an neurosis he can't break out of. no one wants to be a bad guy, no one wants to hurt the ones they love, least of all dean, but he can't stop doing both those things. like his self-made cage of ideology, emotional repression, and control is killing him, and it's killing everyone who doesn't get away from him, and that's sad! it's awful! no one is winning except dean's self-image. he will sacrifice everyone and everything he loves on the altar of never having to re-evaluate himself. or, i hope he won't. but he might! and that's sad! it's the perfect tragedy! - second hand deangirlism due to cas kinnie disease. men will be the first person who was ever nice to castiel and then me and castiel will love them forever about it. - he is my little puzzle box and i will solve him - straightmarried gf i liked that sam ran off and tried to escape The Life in s8, that makes sense to me. i think sam really fundamentally doesn't want to be a hunter and the only reason he gives up on trying to leave post s8 is that it is impressed upon him that he's completely trapped. he can never be free. dean will always drag him back, kicking and screaming. i actually feel like sam's equivalent to lisa isn't amelia, it's jess. i talked some about that here but like. both jess and lisa were kind of synecdoches for a false ideal of the american dream, each in their own way. they're both images of suburban perfection, and what draws the winchesters to them is the desire to fit into that image.
but comparing lisa and amelia..... like, dean promises sam that he will go try to make a normal life with lisa, and then he does, because that obligation is all he has left to cling to. like dean is nothing but a miserable little pile of duties and tasks, he doesn't know who he is without a chore (see: demon!dean's total directionlessness) and lisa is the last promise he made to his brother, so he fulfills that. she's an idea to him, not a real woman. the thing he's clinging to, in sam's absence, is not lisa, but the idea of a normative suburban lifestyle. but then the moment sam shows up and voids his own last wishes, dean is like okay bye i don't need to fulfill this obligation anymore. like he was never all that interested in lisa. he didn't love her and his relationship with her was built on obligations, normative images, and anxiety over her safety, which finally resolves itself in dean horrifically violating her by asking cas to wipe her memories.
whereas sam is with amelia because he like, meets her and they form a connection. they hit it off. and sam has a pattern of like. when he wants to get away from something, especially if dean isn't around, he jumps into bed with the nearest girl who smiles at him and then forms a super intense with her. his early season one-off love interests, ruby, and now amelia. (amelia is actually kind of the last time he does that, because after season eight he gives up trying to escape for real). but what he's clinging to there isn't an image that he's trying to fit into. it's the girl herself. like he likes amelia and he wants to be around her and he dives into like. spending time with her and building a relationship with her. and like amelia is a real woman and sam sees her as a real woman. like she's a fucked up mess and so is he and they connect. like she's a bitch and she clogs her drain with limes. also #MyGirlfriendsHusbandFightsForYourFreedom. like samelia is a little boring but i don't begrudge sam that. it's almost compelling because it's boring.
i'm actually not a huge season eight guy myself but my issue with it isn't samelia.
actually, and this is a complete tangent, can i bitch about season ten for a second? like. okay. seasons eight and nine are about sam learning that dean will never let him go. that he's trapped forever in the hunting life and trapped forever with his brother, that dean will do horrific things to him in order to keep them together. and slowly just... giving up. deciding to relinquish his dreams of getting out once and for all.
and then season ten rolls around and suddenly sam makes a hypocrite of himself? suddenly sam is the one who will go to any lengths to save dean, even against dean's own wishes? NOT believable. like sam should be like. sad and fucked up about it, but letting dean go his own way. if anything, cas should be the one trying to save dean against his will, that's way more cas' move. like there's definitely a certain level of cas -> dean :: dean -> sam that exists in the show, at least in terms of protective fixation. cas is somewhat more respectful of dean's boundaries and autonomy, but he's the one with a pattern of blowing up at dean for being self-destructive etc etc.
like, sam should have been way different in s10. i don't know exactly what i would do with him, maybe give him his own distinct plot? or maybe have demon dean last somewhat longer and make "demon dean tries to kill sam" a whole multi-episode arc, i think that would slap. and then the relationship fallout from that can be many more episodes.
like imo this happened because jeremy carver got his start in season three, when sam legitimately was trying to save dean against dean's wishes, but in s3 that made sense. like, one, the brothers were much closer then, dean wasn't quite as much of a prison guard for sam, but two, much more importantly, dean's deal was sam's fault. he blamed himself. he wasn't just trying to save dean from dying, he was trying to save dean from going to hell because of him. like girl, it made sense in mystery spot. but this is not the energy you should be bringing to the table with sam in s10. ooc!
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undyingskies · 3 years
Text
Drown
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request: no
a/n: I can’t tell if I hate this, love it, or just like it. This fic was just be completely self indulging in this idea and writing it all out. Fair warning it is long but I hope you enjoy!
also this fic includes lyrics from the song drown by clinton kane! i don’t claim them as my own, i just uses them as the writing the reader wrote!
warnings: a few curse words
____________________________________
You fell and you fell hard. Like every cliche story ever, you fell for your best friend. It was a long time coming and most people that surrounded the two of you had called it long ago. Both of you were constantly denying the truth of it though, and all these years later here you are face to face with the truth.
You and Owen had met a long  time ago, that fun age in between not being a kid anymore and puberty. You were little miss perfect, always has been and always be. While Owen was quite frankly the opposite, it’s not that he was “bad” or “misbehaved” but he wasn’t shy or afraid to show who he was.
While on the other hand, you were quiet, shy, and kept to yourself. How the two of you became friends, let alone, best friends was beyond you. To this day you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment your friendship began.
Knowing the two of you now, it makes complete sense to everyone. While you may be quiet and shy, you were practically the female version of Owen. A similar personality and humor. You held this certain confidence about yourself that would just draw people to you and Owen always says that’s what got him. That’s what made him want to be your friend.
Now here you are about 10 years later, still best friends but instead of swallowing nervously due to the activities you were always dragged to because of Owen, you were swallowing down the nerves of your feelings for him.
You’re sitting in your shared living room, surrounded by some of your closest friends, your inhibitions low due to the cup in your hand.
You figured drowning yourself in whatever drink was poured in your cup would stop the never ending thoughts of the boy you love. But instead you still saw his face.
I can’t even drink without seeing his face, you think to yourself.
The boys had decided since everyone had the next few days off it would be fun to throw a little party at the apartment. A game/movie night if you will.
So that’s how you ended up sitting quietly in your group of friends, sitting in a circle playing some game similar to truth or dare. You weren’t paying attention when they were explaining the rules, lost in your thoughts, their words just murmurs to you in the background. Until a voice cuts through,
“Y/N! Hey!” Charlie’s voice loud and booming, pulling your attention. “It’s your turn.” A small smirk displayed on his face.
Here’s the thing, you lived with the two boys. Owen and Charlie. When Owen found out he would be filming in Toronto, Canada, he booked you a ticket before he even asked you about it. You have always loved Canada and dreamed about living there, so he took you and now here you are a few months later.
Charlie welcomed you with open arms the same way he did Owen. The two of you getting dangerously close.
Dangerously because Charlie can’t keep a secret for his life and he now happened to know every single one of yours.
Now here you are, staring back at Charlie who has a smirk plastered on his face.
“What was Owen like in high school?” A shaky breath leaves at his question, grateful that his question wasn’t invasive the way you had assumed it would have been.
“Oh gosh,” you say laughing slightly, “ I would say very similar to the guy you know today. He still did the same dumb shit then that he does now! He did get in trouble though, always for being too loud or disruptive!” You admittedly tell them.
Owen scoffs at your words, feigning hurt and a pout. “I was not that bad Y/N.” He says laughing.
“Ya sure Joyner, you had detention like every week!” You laugh out.
“Okay well hey!” He says, holding his hands up, “not all of us can be like little miss perfect over here! Never got in trouble, straight A’s, always on time, always the teacher’s favorite!”
“Well one of us had to be the good one! God knows how many times I saved you from getting in trouble!” You laugh out.
“Very true.” Owen says throwing a wink in your direction. You can feel the heat spread across your cheeks, bringing your cup up to your face to hopefully hide it.
“Anyways next!” You say thinking of who to choose. “Savannah...”
As always you let someone else come up with your question, picking invasive questions for games like this was not your strong suit. Often opting out for something silly or plain, you could never come up with a question good enough.
The point of the game was to get embarrassing answers, get someone to admit something they didn’t want too, or get someone to do something silly. You loved playing but just couldn’t get your questions to match the game.
The game goes on and on. Everyone getting picked on throughout the night. Savannah having to admit who her worst kiss was, Jeremy having to give Carolynn a lap dance, even Tori having to call the guy she liked and asking him out on a date. It just kept going and everyone question or demand getting worse than the last.
Every few rounds you seemed to escape the prying eyes and questions of your friends. You often got up to fill your cup, not wanting to let the substance get below empty.
You were feeling good, giddy even. Your head light, thoughts happy, and mind empty except for your never-ending laughter due to your friends.
That’s until it was Charlie’s turn again. This time he wasn’t letting you get off easy, it happened to many times.
He had hoped that if he asked you an easy question someone else would probe you for a harder one, but no one did.
That wasn’t going to happen again.
“So Y/N, you’ve been writing some things recently haven’t you?” He asks you. Oh shit.
“Yes Charlie, I have been. You know this.” You tell him trying to play it cool. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you knew what he was doing or letting the others know or suspect any embarrassment.
“I want you to read us the last thing you wrote.” You shot him a deadly look, one that does not go unnoticed by your friends.
You feel your ears and cheeks start to turn pink, you would bet that the heat coming off of them would cause people to see steam.
Charlie was very well aware of his knowledge of what you were writing and the topic of such.
Both of you very well aware.
“No, Y/N, you don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable.” Owen pipes up placing his hand on your arm for a split second.
Owen knew his best friend, like the back of his hand. He knew that as much as you were an amazing writer that you hated sharing it. Often times not even letting him read what you wrote.
He was also well aware of how your shoulders tensed up at Charlie’s request and the look on your face.
“No, it’s fine O. I can read it.” You tell him lightly pushing him away from the space he had closed in between you while trying to comfort you.
Then you’re on your feet, heading to your room. Searching for the pale yellow notebook you kept rather hidden, not trusting either of the two nosy boys you live with.
You walk back, yellow notebook in hand and take your seat back in between Owen and Savannah.
With a deep breath, you open your notebook flipping back to the last page you had written on. Wincing at the topic of it.
“Okay,” you start, having to take another breath in, “this one’s called drown.”
Savannah places a gentle hand on your leg for comfort. The two of you also rather close so she was well aware of your discomfort in this situation as well. Your shoot her a small smile.
“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,
but in an instance, you break me down.
I know better than to want you, but I succumb to you without a doubt.”
You look up at all of the faces looking at you before you continue yet again.
“Tell me lies, tell me painted truths.
anything at all to keep me close to you.
Pull me under the way you do, tonight I want to drown in the ocean of you.”
With that, you close your book. You had a few more scribbled ideas around this one but none of them made the cut for it quite yet.
Everyone was quiet after you finished reading it, shocked by your truthful words and ever so obvious confession through your words.
Well ever so obvious to everyone but Owen.
“That was really good Y/N!” Savannah tells you with a smile. “Ya, that was really good!” Tori agrees.
“See I told you it was good Y/N!” Charlie says proud of himself for getting you to finally read something out loud.
“Wait, you read what she wrote?” Owen asks, hurt coming over his face slightly. You never shared anything and on the rare occasion you did with him but no one else.
“Well yeah, she asked me for my opinion on the concept for the piece.” Charlie admits, knowing fully what he was doing.
Charlie knew that Owen liked you, he would even go as far as say love you. He knew that Owen would get jealous that you came to him and let him read what you wrote but not Owen.
Over the last few weeks all he heard Owen do is complain about the distance you were placing between the two of you. He also always heard Owen’s frustration of you not sharing your work with him.
Charlie had a plan and knew exactly what he was doing.
“Well what was the concept then?” Owen asks not reading to let it go.
“Nothing Owen.” Charlie says at the exact same time you say, “Just a guy that I like.”
Your words shocking you just the same amount that they shocked everyone. Your confession makes its way out of you before your mind can catch up with your mouth.
Your newfound confidence from whatever drink had been occupying your cup for the night.
“You like someone?” Owen asks, shocked. Not bothering to hide his hurt from everyone.
You were supposed to come to him about these things, you two weren’t supposed to have secrets. But recently it felt like all that there were was secrets between the two of you.
“Ya I do,” you say shrugging your shoulders, “it’s not a big deal.”
You say with a wave of your hand trying to dismiss the conversation. You didn’t want to get into this, let alone get into it with Owen.
“So,” Jeremy says trying to change the subject and move onto the next person. The awkwardness that surrounded the atmosphere was just getting too much to bare.
“It is a big deal Y/N! It’s a big deal to me, I’m your best friend your supposed to tell me.” Owen says louder and completely ignoring the attempt to change the subject.
“Seriously O, it’s nothing.” You say while getting up to go to the kitchen, trying to escape Owen.
“It is not nothing!” Owen says just as sternly all while following you into the kitchen not letting you escape him or the conversation.
You just ignore him and his pestering as you go into the fridge to grab the water, deciding that it was the better beverage choice to make this time around.
You make your way  around Owen, while he is still yelling at you, going to lean up on your tippy toes to grab a cup for the water. The cup just out of your reach, causing you to struggle.
You feel Owen’s hand lay itself on your lower back, you watch as his other hand reaches over you to grab the cup.
Instead of placing it down in front of you, he keeps it in his hand and close to his chest. He uses his one hand on your back to gently move you so that you’re facing him.
“Just tell me Y/N.” He says sounding defeated.
“I said let it go Owen, it doesn’t matter.”  A loud sigh comes from Owen, the growing frustration evident on his face.
“Why can’t you get it through your head that it does matter Y/N.” He says through clenched teeth, not wanting to get overly mad at you.
“Why Owen? Why does it matter?” You say, the frustration finally boiling over in you.
“Why?” He says now yelling, “because you’re my best friend Y/N! We’re not supposed to have secrets, we’re supposed to tell each other everything, and now you’re replacing me with Charlie.”
Owen says that last part quieter, his head hanging low at his words.
“You think I’m replacing you with Charlie?” You ask just as quietly, your heart breaking slightly at the site of the boy in front of you.
“It sure feels like it Y/N. You’ve been spending so much time with him, sharing stuff you don’t share with me, and just ignoring me and putting all this distance between us.”
You didn’t know what to say back to him. You would have never guessed that he would notice what was going on or the fact that you were pulling away.
It’s not that you wanted too, it just felt like the right decision to make while trying to get over your growing feelings for him.
Charlie was just a convenient confidant, in the best way possible. He was always there and you trusted him, so you told him about your feelings for Owen and he was doing his best to help.
Until tonight.
“Can you please just tell me what’s been going on?” Owen asks breaking the silence and you from your thoughts.
“I can’t Owen, I promise it’s nothing serious.”
“It has to be serious if you’re pushing me away like this. You like someone and you haven’t even talked to me about it once, that’s never happened.”
You don’t understand why Owen was so hung up on such a small fact. It’s true that he was the one you usually came to with these things but anytime you told him about someone you liked he always brushed it off. It seemed like he was always so disinterested in that part of your life so him being so frustrated by the fact that you went to Charlie with it just seemed weird to you.
What you didn’t know is what was swirling through Owen’s head. Owen felt his heart clenching and his head spinning, anytime you brought up who you liked his heart stopped and he couldn’t get a breath in.
He wasn’t one to admit that though, he didn’t want to admit it to himself either. So he dismissed that feeling and dismissed any conversation that brought those feelings bubbling to the surface.
Deep down Owen knew the reason behind that feeling. He had fallen for you and fallen hard. He always would say he didn’t even know what love was, he couldn’t be in love with anyone not even you. But he did, he loved you.
And where it leaves you is you both standing a little too close for comfort in this situation.  
Your heart beating faster because you weren’t ready to admit the feelings you had buried so deep.
And Owen’s breath shallow as he didn’t want to really know the outcome of this conversation yet he was so desperate to have it.
“Owen you never really care about who I like, why so much this time around?” You ask him trying to turn the conversation topic onto him rather than you.
“Of course I care about who you like! I care about anything that goes in in your life!” His tone raising with every word.
“Sure never seemed like it!” Your tone doesn’t match his, you feel defeated.
“I...” Owen trails off not knowing where to take this conversation, knowing that it will have to end in a confession if he continues. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I do care and just want to know who this guy is.”
It was now or never. You can finally admit your feelings that have been swallowing you whole for months now or just keep allowing yourself to drown in them.
“You.”
That’s all you say. Plain and simple.
Then it’s quiet. Too quiet, it seemed like the conversation in the living room stopped at the same time your confession finally came to the surface.
Your heart was beating faster than it ever has, faster than it was beating earlier.
Owen’s heart beating just as fast as yours. His was out of happiness and excitement while yours was due to nervousness.
Neither of you said a word.
“Well alright then.” You take his silence as his answer. You didn’t want to face him anymore; you were doing your best to hold back the warm tears that were threatening to spill over.
You turn on your heel ready to leave before he can see your tears. But before you can take another step his hand is on your wrist holding you in place.
“Say it again.” That’s all he says.
“Say what again Owen?” Your confused and just want to get out of this conversation.
“Who you like, say it again.”
“Just...why?” You don’t want to admit it again, you don’t want to face it again.
“Just please, say it again.” Owen is practically begging you at this point. He needed to hear you say it again, he needed the confirmation before he acted on his own feelings.
“You, Owen!” You say loud and frustrated, “I said you, Owen!”
That’s when Owen makes his move. In a blink of an eye his hand drops your wrist and makes its way to your cheek, and his lips are on yours.
You don’t move a muscle. Your shocked, you never expected to be in this position with Owen.
“Kiss me back.” Owen says with his lips still against yours.
That’s when you break through your trance. Your lips start to move in sync with his. Finally.
It was like a breath of fresh air, his lips on yours.
You pull apart slightly, taking a breath in. His lips chase after yours not ready to let the contact between the two of you end.
The taste of yours lips new and he was already addicted, not wanting it to fade away.
After a few more seconds of your lips moving together, Owen is the one to pull away. His lungs burning from the lack of air.
He places his forehead against yours, placing a kiss on your nose. Now that he finally kissed you, he never wanted to stop.
“I have wanted to hear those words for so long.” Owen admits, a smile on his face and one working its way on yours.
“Really?” You ask.
“Yes really!” Owen laughs, “I’ve liked you longer than I want to admit.”
“Ohhh really?” You ask teasingly. You could tell by the faint tint on his cheeks that he was feeling a little embarrassed. You couldn’t help but tease him a little.
“Yes, really Y/N! Now stop it!” Owen laughs out.
“Make me.” You retort back, the look on Owen’s face causing you to giggle.
With his eyebrows raised, Owen leans in just centimeters from your lips. “If you say so.” Then his lips are on yours again.
They move together in sync, much more passionate the time before. The both of you finally letting your feelings pour into the kiss.
“Are you two done yet?” You hear Charlie yell from right outside of the kitchen.
The two of you pulling apart laughing, of course Charlie was close by listening to what was happening.
“Yes Charlie!” You yell back laughing.
“Soooo,” Owen says looking down at you, your hands still entangled with each other and your chests still touching. “Soooo,” you say back.
“Just ask her out already damn!��� Charlie yet again yells causing you two and everyone else to laugh.
“Fine Gillespie!” Owen yells back, “Y/N would you like to go on a date and get this thing started?” He asks you with a big smile.
“Yes, I would Joyner.” You say back smiling, leaning in for another kiss.
The two of you pull apart smiles upon both of your faces. The air light, all your feelings finally on the table, both of you happy and relieved to know that you both feel the same way.
“Now how about you read me some more of what you wrote about me!” He says with an eyebrow wiggle.
You shove him away, laughing.
“In your dreams Joyner.” You tell him.
He laughs, chasing after you as you run away from his hands that are trying to tickle you. His shouts of telling you to show him what you wrote and you laughing back no.
You’d rather show him happy writings than your sad ones. But with your newfound relationship blooming you were sure to show him some soon enough.
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ohnopoe · 3 years
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Main Attraction | Jack Daniels
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Ship: Jack Daniels x afab!Reader Summary: Going undercover can be fun, but sometimes the target isn’t the only one you find yourself distracting Word Count: 2.5k+ Author’s Note: This is my INSANELY late entry for the wonderful @din-damn-djarin‘s Song Prompt Writing Challenge! My song was, of course, Main Attraction by Jeremy Renner. Also, super sorry, I do try and keep my readers as gender neutral as possible, but this one just kinda happened!
The job was simple, well, as simple as it could be when partnered with none other than Jack Daniels himself. You’d been briefed, of course, taken note of every detail Champ had thrown in your direction, but the truth of it was, you hardly needed it.
Your role was one you’d played before, hell, you’d played it so damn often that it was practically second nature at this point.
You were the distraction.
So many times you’d been tasked with the role, especially as one of the very few female agents at Statesman, and often it was a lot of fun. High class, expensive balls, exclusive events you’d never attend otherwise. It had left your wardrobe bustling with beautiful dresses and outfits that Champ saw no reason for you not to keep, each attached with memories of fun filled nights where you kept the bad guys captivated as whichever agent you were partnered with did the heavy lifting, searching for whatever it was you were after.
There was something ethereal about standing before your wardrobe, running your fingers over gowns you could never dream to afford otherwise, they were a hint at another life, the life of your covers, of something luxurious and exquisite, something many dreamt of.
But those gowns remained exactly where they belonged tonight, on hangers and dust covers, safe at home and far from the dangers of your job.
No, this distraction asked for something very different. It wasn’t about long flowing gowns, or diamonds that caught even the subtlest of lighting, shining their brilliance throughout the room. Tonight called for something far from all of that, but just as captivating, if the glances Jack had been throwing your way were anything to go off.
The drive had been surprisingly quiet, in fact, you would have been worried that Jack was actually nervous, had you not caught the way he quickly glanced away when you caught him staring at the high hemline of your skirt out of the corner of his eye.
You’d been on missions like this together plenty of times before, with plunging necklines and slits up your thigh that were meant to keep the gaze of anyone who so much as glanced past you. And every time that you did, he would be there with some flirtatious comment that would have had your cheeks burning if you didn’t know he did the same to just about anyone with legs.
But this was different, it was as though the tight little dress had stolen not just his words, but his ability to think straight.
It had been almost amusing as you arrived at the secretly shady club. The way he refused to meet your gaze, the way his hand hovered against the small of your back as you entered, where he would usually happily use the excuse to play to the role, his hand slipping just a little lower than necessary.
But, that was then.
Two hours ago.
You’d been in the club for two damn hours, with all manner of lecherous men taking in what they could of your rather exposed body, and if that wasn’t getting old quick, the lack of progress certainly was.
Surely, he had to have found the papers you were after by now, it wasn’t as if the secretive sub-basement was even that big to begin with. But still, your comms remained irritatingly Jack free.
Songs bled from one to another, without any real hint as to where one ended and another begun. And you continued to dance, continued to throw just enough flirtatious glances over to the men you knew were using the club as a front for, well, let’s say nefarious activities, to keep them where they were, to keep them well away from the mission Jack was on.
But then he was there, lingering off to the side, against a wall; as if he could ever truly blend in. How no one else noticed a fucking cowboy in a club, you had no idea. How none of the women that passed him by bothered to give a second look, well, that astounded you. Even in the most ridiculous of outfits, he stole your attention at every turn, yet there he was, the covert agent of the two of you. Champ must have been losing his damn mind.
Catching his gaze, you raised a brow in question, hoping he had what you were after so you could get the hell out of there, but he gave nothing away as his lips slowly drew into a smirk, eyes drinking you in as you continued to dance amongst the crowd.
“Jack,” your voice was low over your comms, a warning tone, but the way his gaze instantly met yours gave you no sense of accomplishment, no, he was enjoying this too much. “Please tell me we can move soon.”
And there it was again, that damn silence that had your skin crawling.
It felt unnatural for Jack to be so damned quiet. Where were the quips, the quick flirtatious lines? Hell, you’d even take criticism if it just got him to say something.
But instead he just watched and, was that a drink in his hand? Oh hell no! The bastard had clearly gone up to the bar at some point to order a drink, and there you were, still putting on a show for men who made your stomach curl.
“That drink better mean you got it,” you muttered once more, watching the way his lips curled into a more prominent smirk as he took in your words. But still, he didn’t respond, simply watching you over his glass of whiskey as he took a long, slow sip of the watered down liquor.
Damn that man.
If he didn’t have it, you were going to have to think of something, and quickly. There was only so long you could keep the targets on the perfect level between intrigued and not actually trying anything, without losing their interest all-together.
But if he did have it, oh, you were going to kick his ass when you got out of there.
Movement at the booth before you captured your attention. Some of the group were on the move, and it looked awfully like they were getting ready to go back to business, to go downstairs… where Jack was meant to steal the papers you needed.
Glancing back towards where Jack had been lingering against the wall, you were met with an empty space that had you gulping nervously. Hopefully, he had noticed they were on the move, hell, hopefully he’d already taken what he needed to so you could be out of there already.
In your panicked thoughts, you didn’t even notice the way a new body shifted through the dance floor until the warmth of their body radiated through the thin fabric of you little red dress.
“Relax, it’s just me,” Jack’s voice was like velvet, that southern twang drawing out each word languidly. It was the same tone he used when you needed to calm down, when your fears and anxieties got the best of you. The same tone he used when convincing you to rest, to let him take the first shift and just get some sleep while he looked after you both. It was the same tone he used when the others couldn’t hear him over the comms, when work slipped away, and Jack was just- Jack.
And it worked, for all of a few seconds. Your shoulders dropped, your body unwinding from the tight coil it had wound itself up in defensively. It worked, until you remembered the bastard still hadn’t actually told you if he’d got the damned papers.
“Jack, if you don’t have-”
“Relax, I got it,” he interrupted, each word dancing over your skin, his lips so damn close to your ear that there was no way anyone could over hear him.
Humming in approval, and finally feeling the calming effect that having Jack by your side on the job always seemed to bring, you began to turn towards him, only to have him stop you.
His hands were playing against the fabric of your dress, so light you could almost believe you were imagining the gently caresses, were it not for the warmth he emanated.
Your words were oddly reluctant as you spoke again, your mind desperate to remind you of the job at hand, no matter how much your heart and body wanted to lose themselves to the man behind you. “Then can we go?”
“Don’t wanna rush off too quick, do we? Might cause a fuss,” and while normally you might argue, might point out that every minute spent in the humid club was another minute for the target to realise what you had taken, you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to fight him.
Not when those large hands spread out against your waist, holding you with that same lingering care that had you catching your breath when you arrived. Not when his breath danced over the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, so light that you worried it would draw out goosebumps. Not when the smell of his cologne was filling your senses, intoxicating and captivating.
No, maybe one dance wasn’t the worst idea, especially as it gave you an excuse to raise your hands behind you, to sink your fingers into the small curls at the base of Jack’s neck as he hummed happily against you.
Even the music, grating and loud, seemed more acceptable with Jack swaying behind you. And, sure, it was still part of the show, an excuse to leave the dwindling audience without being obvious, an out before any of them got too possessive of what they thought was all for them, but with your eyes closed, and the warmth of his body pressed up against yours, for a moment, you could pretend.
You could pretend that it was real, that you were just out for a night off with the man that had captured your attention the moment he tilted his stupid hat in your direction. You could pretend that his hands wandering against you reverently were truly filled with the care and devotion that they played at. You could pretend that this was completely normal.
It was over too soon, but even in your blissed out moment of daydreaming, you couldn’t begin to pretend that it was still the same harsh electronic beat that had begun when he had sidled up behind you, even if it seemed Jack was in no great hurry to leave either.
But you had to, especially now that the group you had been keeping an eye on was dwindling even further as you found yourself distracted by Jack’s touch.
Pulling your hands from him felt like a magnitudinous feet, something you ought to be proud of as you turned in his hold. He didn’t back away, didn’t remove his hands from your waist, he merely stood there, staring down at you with a look in his eyes that- no, that was a trick of the fluorescent lights. There was nothing there, but the usual mischief that always lingered beneath the surface.
“We should go,” when had your voice turned so soft?
“We should,” he agreed, but made no move to leave, lingering there in the moment, until it seemed as though a switch had been flicked within him, and he was pulling away. “Come on,” he nodded towards the doorway, hand taking yours so gently that it had your heart thumping away in your chest almost violently.
The cold air of the night hit you the moment you made it outside, and with it came your wits. Jack’s hand was dropping your own in an instant, as if it had burnt him, and any feelings of warmth that had been brewing within you left at the movement. And then those thoughts were there, questions and irritations, bubbly away below the surface, now taking centre stage as you searched your bag for the keys.
It wasn’t safe to linger on the softness you felt towards your fellow agent, it would only end in heartache, only cause you issues on the job. But anger, irritation, that was much safer.
Your steps were fast, desperate to put as much distance between you and the club as possible as you focused on the brewing rage.
You could focus on the way he waited, stood on the sidelines as you distracted the target, as he took his time when you should have been making your way far from the club. You could focus your attention on the completely unpredictable manner his personality seemed to shift, emotions flaring from playful and light to silence in a matter of seconds, without a hint of explanation. You could focus on your damn job, the reason you were there in the first place.
“You want to tell me what took you so damn long?” you were fuming as you started the car, not daring to look towards the source of your irritation.
“What can I say, I was distracted,” he answered so easily that it only stoked the fire within you.
“By what Jack?” your tone was harsh, harsher than it had ever been directed towards him as you peeled out of the carpark, ready to merge amongst the masses and lose any trace of you in the crowd. “You were standing there for god knows how long, and you must have found the papers beforehand- so I don’t see what-”
“By you sugar,” he interrupted with a warm chuckle that fought to melt the icy barrier you had placed around your heart once more. And it was working, hell, it always worked. It was like he was your own personal kryptonite, and it left you floundering.
“By- what are you- Jack, this isn’t funny. If I’m going to have to report to Champ about why it took us a damn hour longer than expected, I want a serious answer.”
Silence answered you, filling the car just as it had on the way to the club, but it was different now. Emotions fought against one another, and it was stifling.
And then, just as you thought you couldn’t take another damn second of his silence, he spoke, humour and something you couldn’t quite place filling his tone, making it softer than you had expected. “You’re kidding, right?”
You didn’t reply, only throwing a deadly serious glare his way to show just how much you were not kidding, before returning your attention to the road.
“We’ve done a few of these now, you distracting, me going in… Don’t get me wrong, you look downright gorgeous in those gowns of yours, but this-” he paused, nodding towards the dress you were sporting, the dress that hadn’t come from Statesman, but was something you had bought yourself, albeit some years ago. “You’re stunnin’, and I don’t just mean because I can get a good look at you.”
You almost hated the way your body betrayed you at his words, your glare softening, a smile beginning to play at your lips at him just being, well, him.
“This is more you, and you, well, you’re the perfect distraction, darlin’.”
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fruitless-nonsense · 3 years
Text
So long time no see huh?
I just wanna say that I never thought that anybody would acknowledge my input in a million years. No one in my friend group really watched either tvd or to, so this blog is the first time I’ve ever let this out, and the fact that there were people that actually liked what I said meant so much to me I can’t even describe.
Onto why I haven’t posted in a while, that’s just my slow brain. With work and family, my brain likes to fixate on something related to writing and I become obsessed for a while. What started to grind on me was the amount I was putting out versus everything else I had to do in my life, so I decided to take a little break in which time I relearned my love of drawing, but I digress.
I still wanna post on here and plan to do so (maybe some actual tvd analysis idk), but it’s not gonna be as frequently as it was last month. That being said, I still adore each and every one of y’all especially those interacting with me and would still be honored to answer any asks I get the privilege of receiving.
With that introduction out of the way, I’ve decided to talk about some characters rather than another ship (mostly because I’ve already tackled the big ones as far as to is concerned), and these characters are none other than Matt Donovan and Jackson Kenner!
Finally talking directly about the vampire diaries (yay)! Confession: I don’t like Matt. Here’s the thing, the show tries to position him as the “nice guy” of mystic falls. This worked because they place him next to the other male characters (all problematic) during season one. I mean, there’s Damon (narcissistic psychopath), Stefan (recovering addict and vampire), Tyler (abusive bully), and Jeremy (temperamental and moody addict). When we look at Matt next to these guys of course we’d be forgiven for thinking he’s a good person, but what happens when he’s placed next to humans that are considered good individuals?
First example, Caroline! Disclaimer: if you are the kind of person who thinks Caroline was a horrible character until she became a vampire and basically like to tone police her for being an alpha female with completely human flaws that made her such a relatable character (not for me specifically, but even I could notice how real she felt), you’re wrong. I’m not gonna get mad at you, I’m just asking you to take a good look at what you consider a “good female character” and ask yourself what that says about you. That being said, as much as I love Caroline’s characterization in season one, I don’t like how the writers just made her story being a victim the entire time. The most obvious case of this was with Damon, which I know might take y’all a second because Damon fans love to sweep his season one actions under the rug just like the writers. What Damon did to Caroline was disturbing and made me uncomfortable (and they say Klaus compelling Cami was the first time compulsion was broken down with how messed up it could be). The worst part is seeing other characters be aware of this and doing nothing to help her, but this isn’t about Damon. That was the first half of the season, the second half shows a potential ship of Matt and Caroline which was…yikes.
I don’t wanna assume the worst, but I do find it rather clever in a sick way how the writers placed Caroline in a physically abusive relationship with Damon only to place her into an emotionally abusive relationship, so we’re too busy comparing Matt to Damon that we miss how Matt would stand on his own (but that’s just a theory). I know this was season one, but after rewatching a fiftieth time, I can’t help but notice how much Matt belittles her (ex. calls her crazy in a diagnosis kind of way instead of joking), this doesn’t even get into the Elena situation. I do respect him flat out telling Caroline that he’s not over Elena, but there’s that and reminiscing about his relationship with her in front of Caroline and Stefan! And they show Caroline so upset by it and Matt doesn’t even care, but he can’t do anything wrong! Seriously, looking back every argument always ends with Caroline being completely in the wrong and needing to apologize while Matt doesn’t have to do anything. Matt treated her like she was second best, something we knew from the pilot was a big insecurity for her. Why is this ignored?
Second reason: he’s so controlling. Like, it’s not just the writers and the characters singing his praises, he does it to himself. He can hate vampires, but it’s the fact he goes around saying “man, it’s hard being the only nice guy in this town, I have to be the moral center while all of my friends make horrible decisions which I will repeatedly tell them because I’m so smart and know what’s best for them. Man, it’s so hard being me.” This Matt challenges Damon for most insufferable character on screen. Best example is in season three when he drugs Elena and drives her out of town because it’s what’s “best for her” (okay dude). Again, I get he hates vampires, but so does Bonnie, yet despite this she still respects her friends choices because she understands it’s their lives (also I hate that every time Bonnie does get judge mental of her friends the show treats it like she’s being unreasonable and a bad friend, but Matt’s like that the whole time and it’s waved off as “he’s just being a concerned friend”).
Lastly is something everyone already talks about, when he’s not being incredibly toxic he’s so boring. Like, I understand that’s the point in a way, he’s the human, but after seeing how well they integrated Cami into the story in the originals despite her being human that excuse lost all weight for me. He does nothing but complain! If you’re not gonna do anything interesting with him, get him off screen (the later seasons are boring enough! I mean what?)! What really concerns me about Matt as a character is if he is what the writers genuinely believed was the perfect example of a “good guy.” The worst part is it worked! Technically, Matt is the best guy in the tvd cast by default and calling him out for being a toxic human is only a recent trend. Conclusion, Matt Donovan is trash and we deserved better male characters in tvd.
Now, if you think I’m stopping there you’d be wrong. Matt really is a bad person and character, and what kills me is how the community likes to compare the tvd mains to characters in to. Ex. Hayley is Elena (kind of accurate, but at least Hayley had her own story separate from the men in her life in season one) and Bonnie is Davina (I mean, they both do get screwed over by the writers, but I’d argue Bonnie is closer to Vincent since the pain they endure throughout the seasons is much more personal and vindictive). Lastly, and most frustratingly, Cami is said to be the originals equivalent to Matt because they’re both human. At least, I think that’s the reason because I have no idea why else people would say that (is it because in their deluded minds Cami is boring despite being so much fun for reasons I’ve already explained in another post?). So you’re probably thinking who do I think resembles Matt more if anyone? Who could it be? Or maybe I already spoiled it.
So…Jackson Kenner. It’s not a perfect comparison (Jackson has an active story in the show that plays a significant part in seasons one and two). However, in terms of personality they have the most in common. If it’s not clear from what I said about Matt, I don’t like Jackson either. I find him to be an insufferable hypocrite who always talks about keeping the peace yet is quick to start beef with the vampires (who are always portrayed as being the perpetrators and werewolves the victims and showing the conflict as black and white instead of gray on both sides, but I might be the only one who has a problem with how the werewolves treat the vampires in both shows). That’s in season one! Then there’s his controlling behavior towards Hayley and trying to get her to leave the Mikaelsons just cause he can’t be big alpha male next to Klaus (disclaimer: as much as I think Hayley is wrong for trying to abandon the Mikaelsons for good, I did stand with her on getting away from and daggering Klaus for a temporary amount of time. Complex discussion for another day). Then there’s season three where he gets so angry cause Hayley chooses to help find Rebekah (y’know the woman who protected Hope for months!) that he storms off to the Bayou and ignores his wife and insists she must choose between the wolves and the Mikaelsons (keep in mind Elijah never insists she has to choose a side and always refers to both as her family). This is a grown man by the way. I mean, at least the show doesn’t make Hayley bend to his will like season two (progress I guess?). So controlling, egotistical, hypocritical, and the show treats him like he’s the messiah of men because everyone around him are the worst (except Marcel). Sounds like a Matt clone to me.
Why are these two considered the prime example of how men should be by the writers? If it isn’t clear, just because they aren’t killing people every five minutes does not make them good! That could’ve been a decent message if it was noticed by people, but instead we hear how great Matt and Jackson are when they are the most relatable (in a bad way) kind of men in the show. That’s another problem, why are all the men in this show such toxic individuals to be around. The closest exceptions are Stefan and Marcel who personality wise are good, but are killers. Matt could have been what the writers wanted, but what we got was disappointing and annoying. So the women are butchered shells and the men are toxic, so I’m not allowed to like anyone!
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mismess · 3 years
Text
Jeremy went to pick up coffee.
Now Jeremy didn’t always drink coffee in the morning but this day he was asked to get some, so while he’s there he might as well indulge. He could use a boost of energy anyway.
So on his usual drive to work he took a small detour to a local coffee shop, he got two coffees, one medium roast with extra milk and sugar, one dark roast with milk and one sugar. He didn’t think to get more, he wasn’t told to get more so why would he?
This dark roast with milk and one sugar had to do with a call, a call he got early in the morning, around 6:30 am, which is too early and it probably woke up half the house, it was Scotty calling from work, Jeremy didn’t think Scott really registered what time it was, he sounded out of it, but still profusely apologized about his request for him to pick up coffee.
This leads back to a scene from earlier in the week, the coffee pot in the break room had been broken leaving the Fazbear employee’s caffeineless, which isn’t a problem for him but Scott seemed rather upset about it, he did recall him often having a cup in hand, might explain some of his jumpiness, perhaps Scott should cut back on the caffeine actually.
Just another unhealthy habit Jeremy thought to himself
But the thing is Scott almost NEVER asks anything of anyone, even if he probably should, so of course Jeremy agreed. He can’t turn down the one time he’s asked for something, even if it fueled that habit, it was the least problematic of them anyway.
So Jeremy picked up the coffee.
As he arrived at the pizzeria and walked inside, the main entrance opened up to a large open room, to the left were tables that costumers sat to eat pizza and watch the animatronic band perform, the flooring was black and white tile while the walls had star patterned wallpaper with colorful images of the band along on some of the walls, other walls had a few drawings from past costumers put up on display. To the right of the entrance he saw Fritz in their usual spot, in the prize corner near the games, while all their jobs were rather loose in nature and you simply go where you’re needed, that was their ‘main’ job, they take tickets and exchange them for prizes, Fritz was often leaving that post however to help a kid cheat at ski ball or something.
The place had been open for just around an hour, there was a couple of older kids lingering around on the arcade games but it was far from busy. Fritz didn’t take notice that Jeremy had arrived as they were messing with the little prizes behind the counter, such as the finger traps and those rubber poppers. He liked those poppers if he was being honest, and sometimes took one for his own enjoyment.
Jeremy walked past the prize corner and towards the break room, it always felt rude to talk to someone unless they were close enough to him, -what that distance was exactly he didn’t really know himself, depended on the mood and person-, or if said person directly talked to him first, and it felt silly to walk all the way up to someone just to say hello and turn away. So he stayed quiet. This sometimes labeled him as rude either way if someone expected a greeting and he didn’t supply.
He opened the break room door to find Scotty sitting at a table, slumped forward propping his head up with his hands while rubbing his temples with his thumbs, but when he heard the door he looked up, almost in a startled fashion, but that friendly crooked smile he always has on quickly replaced his nervous face.
Jeremy liked that crooked smile, it always leaned towards the right of his face, showing off his dimple on that side.
Underneath his smile however he looked tired, and it seemed like he just got more worn down with every day that went by. Scotty’s always been an overachiever when it came to work, he took long hours and probably did the equivalent of three people's jobs at the same time, but lately it seemed like it’s taken a toll on him. Jeremy’s tried to discourage this behavior in the past but that would usually just end with Scott finding a way to weasel his way out of those conversations.
There wasn’t much to the break room, it had a couple of plain tables strewn about with mismatched chairs surrounding them, a counter against the wall to the left of the entrance with a microwave sitting on it, the coffee pot formerly sat next to it as well, with a couple of cupboards above it that didn’t house much of anything besides a few cups, and at the end of the counter a fridge.
“I’m here.” Jeremy announced, giving him a quick smile
“Oh thank God! I have such a headache-” Scotty said as he shot out of his chair and walked over to Jeremy
Jeremy held out the dark roast with milk and one sugar to Scott
Scott took it and realized he wasn’t being very polite, “OH- Sorry, uh- Hello! How ya doing?” he asked, but quickly followed it up with another question “ Oh, how much was it?”
“Um. I’m fine. And you don’t have to worry about payment.” Jeremy reassured him
“Nonsense!” Scott said, reaching into his pocket “You are NOT paying for my addictions... Ah-!”
“- That’ll do!” Scott said while handing him a crumpled-up wad of spare change, just looking at it Jeremy could tell it was way too much for one dark roast with milk and one sugar.
Before Jeremy could say anything the break room door swung open again as Fritz walked in
“Ooooh, coffee!” Fritz said as they walked by Jeremy “Didn’t get me one~?” Fritz said in a tone that seemed playful, but Jeremy couldn’t quite tell if it was. He’s never been good at picking up tones very well.
“I didn’t know you wanted one, I’m sorry.” Jeremy said. He should have got more coffee, for everyone.
“Nah it’s ok, Jere, I’m joking, I’m sure Scotty called before I was even here.” Fritz said leaning on Scott’s shoulder while he sipped on his dark roast with milk and one sugar
“Wait a minute-” Jeremy started as he realized what time Scott really did call at “You did call from here right? Just how early did you get here?”
But before Scott was able to answer Fritz piped in instead "Dude, he’s BEEN here since 12 last night!” they gave Scott a friendly nudge, but as Scott pulled the coffee away from his mouth he gave out this nervous chuckle
“Wait- wait- Scott, you’re working the night shift?” Jeremy asked, he suddenly felt a sense of dread at the mention of it
“Um. Uh- Yeah, heh...” Scott said awkwardly
Jeremy hadn’t realized Scott had taken over the night shift, no wonder this man seemed more exhausted than usual.
“But you’re here during the day all the time!” Jeremy stated “Ok- Just how many double shifts do you take?”
“Uh- W-Whatever I’m a- asked..?” Scott said with a nervous grin, his shoulders raised up as if to brace himself, he put his coffee down on the table
“Scott-- God the night shift-- Do you LEAVE?”
“O- Of course! I can’t live here!”
“You say that like you would if you could!” Jeremy was obviously showing frustration in his voice, he didn’t mean to but the amount of work this man did stressed Jeremy out, and the night shift stressed him out even more
“Well- I mean- I’m not doing anything else anyway-” Scott started
“Well you should! Scotty you’re already working so many hours, do you sleep?! You have to realize this isn’t healthy-!” Jeremy was cut off by the break room door opening again
William stood in the doorway, his usual calm demeanor did not seem to be about him today, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched in a manner unlike him “... What is going on in here?” he asked
“- Brought up Scott’s poor work-life balance, now the boys are fighting.” Fritz told him
William pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed “... Ok. I don’t care- There’s currently no employees out on the floor and a birthday party in an hour, can we stop the chit-chat and get things moving.” he snapped
“Yes, you’re right, William!” Scott quickly moved past William out the door on to the floor, obviously glad to find a reason to stop the conversation. William followed.
Jeremy took a deep breath as he watched him walk away “... You think Scotty works too much too, right?” he turned to Fritz, hoping he had an ally, fearing he might be coming off a little too overprotective.
“Oh definitely,” Fritz replied “He’s stubborn when it comes to work tho, you can’t get that guy to sit down. Seeing as you didn’t know he’s on the night shift I guess you haven’t seen his schedule, you should take a look, that thing is a MESS.”
Fritz walked out the door as well, leaving Jeremy alone with his medium roast with extra milk and extra sugar. He didn’t like the mood that was left hanging in this room, he felt bad for getting upset with Scotty, his problems wouldn’t improve just cause Jeremy got fussy with him. But Scotty always pushed these things aside, insisting they could “bring it up later” or “it’s not that bad” or simply just changing the subject, he didn’t know how to talk about it with him without getting fussy at this point.
It seemed like most of their recent conversations ended in frustration. Scotty grew a lot more distant after The Bite, and didn’t tell him about anything anymore, and if asked he would brush him off, he stopped having lunch with him or Fritz and usually spent most his time working or talking with William so any time for socializing was spent elsewhere. He missed his friend.
He didn’t want to just drop it but he didn’t know what more he could do, if Scotty didn’t want his help he can’t force him to talk to him or make him take less hours.
... The night shift...
Jeremy had sworn off the night shift after his first and only week on it, he didn’t like thinking about it, but the reason it was so bad was the animatronics weren’t right, they had something wrong with them, which is why they were scrapped. Those animatronics that seemed out for his blood weren’t in use anymore, and with them the problems of the night shift were gone. At least that’s what William said, Jeremy had no intentions of seeing that for himself, just the thought gave him anxieties.
But that means at least Scott would have the 6 hours to just sit down and relax, right?
He still didn’t think it was good, and Scott definitely should be taking more time off, but maybe Jeremy’s reaction was a bit unwarranted. He would apologize for his harsh tone when he got the chance.
Jeremy took both his medium roast with extra milk and sugar and the half-drunken dark roast with milk and one sugar and put them in the break room’s fridge, maybe they could drink them at lunch together later he thought.
and he got to work.
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bssaz97 · 3 years
Note
The Grimm Hound tries to kidnap Oscar only for Gerald and the other Grimm pets to stop it before it gets away.
Jaune: Oscar! *draws Crocea Mors and revs up the Hoverbike*
Yang: Wait no! He’s using Oscar as a shield!
Jaune: Wait… is this one like…?
Ren: *points Stormflower at the Hound* Let him go!
The Hound: (growls and grunts) …..No.
Ren gasps in horror, both Yang and Jaune’s eyes widen in shock as well. This Grimm had not only exhibited a capacity for high intelligence, but also could speak.
The Hound begins to walk away with the unconscious boy in hand, but before it could move any further, it stopped in its tracks.
It smelled a new scent, several. They weren’t human or faunus. There were Grimm nearby….
*whistle*
“Oi dipshit!”
The Hound turns towards the direction of the voice and is immediately met with a can to the face. The offending object falls to the ground, clanging on to the street.
“Up here!”
The Hound looks up and sees that the voice was coming from up high on one of the light posts… from a Grimm parrot.
Eric: Ha! And they were saying you’s was smart! My beak! Can’t even dodge a tin can!
The Hound: (growls)
The Hound crouches down and instantly it leaps up at the light post in anger.
Eric: Oh shit! *flies away*
The Hound: (growls) *leaps to the ground*
Jaune: Eric?! What are you doing here?!
Eric: Asking myself the damn same question! AH! *avoids a swipe from the Hound* What the hell’s takin’ so long you big lug?! Get over here already!
The Hound is about to strike once more at the flying pest. But before he could, another scent appeared. It was approaching, no… charging. Fast!
Before it could react, the Hound gets rammed by a large mass that hits its left side, causing it to slides on the street.
The Hound shakes its head and looks forward, sniffing the air. This was another Grimm. A BIG one!
Rising on its two hind legs, the large mass reveals itself to be a larger than average Ursa Major.
But to some, it was referred only as-
Jaune: Gerald!
Gerald: *ROAR!*
Eric: *lands on another light post* About fuckin’ time ya got here! The hell took ya so dang long?
The Hound: (growls)
Gerald: (growls)
Gerald lands back to stand on all fours again, preparing for another charge.
The Hound having no patience to waste any more time here, it forced its body to contort until two wings formed on its back.
Leaping to the air, the Hound leaps into the air with Oscar and-
“SQUAK!”
The Hound growls as if feels one of its legs being held back, turning it meets the gaze of a very large Nevermore, staring at the Hound with its cockeyed gaze.
Jeremy: SQUAK!
With a mighty tug the Hound found itself being pulled along and thrown back towards the ground at high speeds.
*CRASH!*
The Hound: (groans and growls)
The Hound gets up, still holding onto the farm boy that its master wanted. It shakes head for any rumble off and before it can do anything else, the Hound gets leaped onto by a mere Beowul from behind.
Ben claws at the Hounds’ face and neck, then bites down onto its neck, causing the Hound to cry out in pain!
The Hound let out an angry roar! It reaches behind its back and grabs onto this damned traitor’s fur sinking its claws into its skin.
Ben: *Pained growl*
The Hound now having a tight hold of the Beowulf, flings the beast over its shoulders and into a nearby wall!
Ben: *pained whine*
The Hound: (growl) ...Bad Dog!
Ben struggles to get up, it lets out a howl but the Hound steps on his chest. The Hound lets out a loud roar to assert dominance, expecting the Beowulf to whimper or back down. What the Hound instead found was that the Beowulf stared coldly at the Hounds gaze, even going as far bare his teeth at it, showing it that there’d be no surrendering.
The Hound: …Foolish.
It cocks back its claw, planning to finish off this defiant Beowulf off once me for all.
But before it could, the Hound smelt a familiar scent. It found itself being rammed into again by that damned Ursa once again.
The Hound found itself being in a wrestling match with this Ursa, its overall size giving a clear advantage. It tries to claw at the Ursa’s sides but Gerald has been in many fights before with other Grimm, so his fur was thick and not so easily pierced.
Gerald slams the Hound into the ground and sinks his teeth into its muscular neck!
The Hound: *Pained Roar!*
Gerald doesn’t relent, and keeps biting until he tears a piece of flesh from the Hound’s neck!
The Hound lets out a howl of pain, slowly turning into a painful whine.
The Hound: …Finish… it.
Gerald spits out the flesh that he had in his mouth, he stares into the Hound, as it lays down vulnerable… weak.
Gerald: (growls)
The Hound feels the Ursa press it’s paw firmly against its body, leans down towards him and…
Grabs the unconscious Farm Boy from its grasp.
The Hound could do nothing, it lay there not having the strength to even fight back, having sustained such serious injuries from the many Grim that now surrounded it.
Gerald holds Oscar by his jacket collar, he releases another menacing growl towards the Hound, a warning.
Then after the Hound later it’s head back down, Gerald and his pack left the Hound on the ground in its shame.
Eric: I still think ya outta finish off that bastard by the way.
Gerald: (growl)
Eric: Oh don’t ya give me that! Ya know damn well that I ain’t crazy enough to try to finish the job myself.
Ben: (pants… barks!)
Eric: I was plenty useful! Given that I had ta distract his ass when you bastards were takin’ forever to get here.
Jeremy: SQUAK!
Eric: I hate all ya’s…..
Yang: Jaune. What the hell did we just see?
Jaune: Pretty sure it was a Grimm throw down.
Ren: But how did they know we were here?
Gerald: Rah! *drops Oscar in front of them*
Jaune: Instinct? Look, let’s just get Oscar out of here and continue to evacuate Mantle. Sound good?
Yang: Ok… man, am I glad we didn’t throw out the big guy when he was just a cub. Or his brothers.
Eric: *lands on her shoulders* Oh please. You wouldn’t be able to resist our good looks Toots.
Yang: *eyes turn crimson* Call me that again, and I’m turning you into fried Chicken…
Eric: Alright! Alright! Yeesh, and you’re supposed to be the funny one. *flies off her shoulder*
Gerald: Rahhh!
-Fin-
A/N: Never done a Grimm brawl of this magnitude before, I hope it reaches up to y’all’s standards. It was really fun to make this and hey, I’m glad that I was able to make something with Gerald and everyone in it again!
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partnersatfazbear · 3 years
Text
Fazbear Frights: What We Found Analysis
Here’s my analysis for What We Found, the third story in Gumdrop Angel. I wrote this as I read so it may be a little different than my previous analysis where I read the story first and went back.
If you’re a Michael Afton fan I highly recommend this. Also, there’s possibly some insight into William Afton, Mrs. Afton, and Henry too, so it’s worth a skim.
Pg 144 '...a place thirty-some years forgotten' Just reconfirming FNAF 3 is 30 years past *one* of the FNAF closings, presumably FNAF 2 location.
Pg 145 "The whole building was giving him [Hudson] a headache." FIX THE VENTILATION BRUH
Pg 148 '...they were able to use salvaged derelict equiptment original to the old pizzerias.' Another confirmation of something we heard from Phone Guy.
Pg 147 "How old are you?" "Twenty-three, same as you." I think this gives us Michael's age during FNAF 3.
EDIT: This kept me awake last night. Obviously this is impossible because he has to be alive for at least 10 years before 1983, BUT maybe its just reconfirming FNAF 3′s year? 2023?
Pg 149 "Hudsan's dad died and his mom married Lewis, a ridiculous balding man who wore plaid vests and smoked a pipe" Did... Did this book just seriously imply Mrs. Afton left William for Henry? Really? (Yes, there's differences; the husband is dead and the man wears plaid 'vests' but it seems very odd to include that detail. This could just have been the writer's own imagination, though.) I have seen this as a fan theory and 100% explains the jealousy aspect of William, but I can't help but kinda hate it. I think this is very important, though, and probably Scott's intention. "This horrible little man [Lewis]... would make Hudson's next ten years a living Hell" This REALLY intrigues me given the context I just went over. The text implies Lewis was fairly neglectful to our main character / Michael stand-in Hudson. Maybe I'm wrong and for some reason Mrs. Emily left and went to William? XD Haha, I'm reading too much into this page. Maybe I'll come back to this later. I figure it's more of Scott possibly including double-details (contradicting stuff with the same character that really applies to two, which has been something I heavily pointed out in previous anaylsis on this blog) Having said that, I'm going w/the former because I can't imagine Henry being abusive (neglectful yes, abusive no) and he's never been portrayed that way in official works like William has in the novels.
Pg 150 "Hudson began to screw up in class...a product of spending the night in fear that his stepfather [Lewis]... [would] beat him just for the fun of it." Ooof. Big confirm on William actually being abusive. Unless we stick with the Henry theory for Lewis (combined with Midnight Motorist Henry theory / alcoholic). "...near-daily beatings..." "his mom started taking pills to get through the day..." So, whoever Mrs. Afton is, she was definetly not paying attention. But then, most people married to serial killers either don't notice because of denial (like this) or because the killer is so manipulative / careful they can't notice.
"Barry, who had red hair and freckles..." Yo?! Is that a description of Fritz?! These friends in the story could be the other kids Michael knew's stand-in's, aka the two gravestones with names he used (Fritz and Jeremy), as shown in the checks for the games and FNAF 6. I've long figured Michael was probably friends with the victims--it makes them easier, although riskier, targets [for William]. The two friends are male, too, like Fritz and Jeremy. If you're curious about Duane's description (our stand in for Jeremy), it's "tight black shirt... muscles... black hair long enough for a glossy ponytail..." I'm not sure if this matches anything found in the novels or contradicts them, though. (The novels = TSE trilogy)
"And so it went... until the night of the fire." For context, this is before FF burns down. We're learning of Hudson's life from his close friends in childhood, his father's death, his mother remarrying, to his abusive stepfather, to his grades slipping to this line. This would be a new fire not seen/mentioned in the games...
Pg 151 "...go to Charlie's for a sundae..." Really. Really Scott. Just gonna use this name again. OK. I'm not even gonna discuss this because it's probably irrelevant. *This is confirmed on pg 158 to be an ice cream shop. No lore relevance aside the annoying name coincidences Scott loves to troll with.
"This is not... an advance into enemy territory, a fight with demons, or a descent into Hell..." Uh, what? What is Hudson talking about? XD I'm only noting it because it seems so out of place. He's probably talking about video games or something.
Another note, although I don't have a specific reference since it is mentioned off-hand many times, is that Hudson keeps referring to his "history" which is implied to have kept him from getting a well-paying job and a girl he's crushing on doesn't know this "history" which is good for him. Seems good old "Michael Stand-In" has done some jail time or something. Edit: On pg 154/155 the girl asks Hudson, "Did you do it?" Seems he may have killed his stepfather or been involved with something else just as bad. Edit 2: No, I was thinking too deep into it. This probably refers to Evan's death at Fredbear's. DUH.
Pg 156 describes an actual "prize corner" in FF! What am I even reading? IIRC this is in FNAF 3, too. So they just hand out these scary gift boxes to people that complete the attraction? (Hudson says he *would* have fun handing out the scary toys to kids when this location opens--kind of a bully thing to do, eh?)
"[Hudson] avoid[ed] glancing in any of the mirrors..." I'm only pointing this out because it could be reference to one of two things. 1) We know because of one of UCN's music tracks, William has a fear of his reflection. Michael probably shares this trait, especially since 2) after Ennard and all... and later on pg 157 it also says, "he never wanted to face: himself" Sounds like guilt, my guy.
Pg 157 "blonde hair... blue eyes..." Hudson shares an eye color with Michael. It's possible Michael had blonde hair as a child and it changed to brown (it's common, something I personally went through being technically blonde/ blue eyed myself)
"He [Hudson] knew from personal experience that toys could turn from fun...to torture ina heart-beat" Fairly self explanatory. Either Hudson's worked at a creepy location before or he doesn't like remembering Fredbear's.
*checks how much is left.* There's still 35 pages (not counting back/front) left of this... This is gonna be a lot of notes.
Pg 158 Hudson doesn't have a car. Poor Mike, probably having to walk everywhere. Especially as a corpse.
Pg 160 This page describes many physical issues Hudson has that prevents him from entering the Navy, all from the abuse of Lewis. Obvious paralell to Michael becoming an undead [because his father sent him to CBPR indirectly causing his condition]
Pg 161 "How's your granny, Hud?... ...Is she still alive?" "I don't think she can die." Does anyone in the Afton family really 'die'? XD
Pg 162 These few pages discuss Hudson's grandmother. She's described as "a seer who claimed to know the future... ...wore big men's plaid flannel shirts with baggy jeans" Um, more plaid / flannel? AGH. STAHP. Lowkey, I would totally headcanon my Aunt Jen like this, though.
Pg 163 "Hudson's mom... the way she was before Hudson's dad had died... never... particularly warm and fuzzy... but... effiencient and responsible..." More about Mrs. Afton, so that's kinda neat.
"Hudson's dad was fun and attentive." There's a good Dad in this series?
"Unfortunetly, he also struggled with mental illness." "invisible low points" (Pg 164) Kinda reminds me of how Henry is described after Charlotte's death in the books.
Pg 164 "When Steven got himself into a bad deal that cost him his small business... he'd taken his life." Oh, it is Henry! SMH. Way to use confusing paralells. So, from our understanding thus far, Hudson's real father, Steven, is our Henry stand-in. His step-father despite being described similar to Henry, is actually our William stand-in. Fair game, Scott.
Pg 164 "...he [Hudson] was locked into a supply closet..." Oh shit, you guys. So, let me go on a tangent here, because this IS important! I just watched a retrospective on Sister Location and FNAF 6 earlier and one theory for Midnight Motorist was the person in the chair was the mother and the kid was Michael. I think this little line may confirm that. In fact, the story may be the key to figuring things out. Obviously, the line is a paralell to FNAF 4's scene in which Crying Child was locked in the supply closet of Fredbear's. I know some people, including Matpat, believe[d] CC was Michael, and in this book's context, it sort of works. This does contradict Step Closer and 1000 other things that make Michael the older brother, but maybe it's hinting at MM? Abusive stepdad (possibly Henry... maybe William is gone at this point), checked out Mom (hey, grey couch lady with Foxybro's font). IDK, but its definetly something to think about.
Pg 165 Lewis is mentioned as calling Hudson "nothing" and saying "you're nothing" on several occasions on this page. Just more abuse, for those accurate fanfic writers like me. Also I kinda wanna watch Morel Orel again. Yall know my fav character is Clay. Yall know.
"You're smoke." <-- Lewis / The text later reads, "...there was some irony, given what eventually happened." BRUH. Why did your stepdad die in a fire? :V TELL ME.
"When his family's house burned down at the end of his senior year..." Huh. Is there a fire we don't know about in the game-verse? Could this explain what happened to the FNAF 4 house before MM house?!
"...it purged Hudson of Lewis and his mother." MRS. AFTON BURNED ALIVE, TOO? Bruh. I can't with this story.
The text later describes the fire is concluded to be man-made and Hudson was blamed for it. Can't say if this ties to Michael, but it IS interesting... TBF, there is a small paralell to draw between Henry in FNAF 6 and his history of suicide in the books, too.
Pg 166 "...this place's [FF] busted thermostat.." I just find this line funny.
Pg 167 "...after three weeks of keeping an eye on the place" Some more timeline context for FNAF 3. We know that Michael worked there a little while before we start playing the game thanks to one of the phone calls, IIRC, so this makes sense. If Michael was accused of [something] and also wanting to hunt down his father, then it makes perfect sense why he's working a dead end job at Freddy's over and over and over. Fun fun fun.
Pg 169 "He hated to think about a functional character [Foxy]" This line is in regards to Hudson not liking the set up of Pirate's Cove and Foxy's hook to scare people. Sounds familiar, don't it? (For Michael anyway.)
Pg 173 "Some big find is arriving tomorrow." SPRINGY BOI! COME ON BOOK, get on with the show?
Pg 176 "Granny was wearing a red-and-green plaid shirt and her baggy jeans." Nothing special, but it was specifically brought up twice. I'm kind of racking my brain trying to understand what the point of this character is outside of "woooo everything is haunted don't you know that" kind of character.
Pg 180 "...dropped the crate on the linoleum with a resounding thud." HEY. Poor Springtrap, just gettin' tossed around like the trash he is.
Pg 186 "If you weren't so stupid, I'd tell you more about it." Springtrap bringing the burn. =:)
"A voice with a burr-like rasp...hint of a Southern accent" I'm going to assume this is because it's Lewis probably in the suit in this story and not our old British lad.
"It's was Mr. Atkin's voice." THE MATH TEACHER? *goes back to check* 'The algebra teacher'. Okay...
Pg 190 Okay, so Hudson hear's Lewis' voice this time. Okay, I get it now. Springtrap in this kind of imbodies all of Hudson's old bullies, including the teacher. He also has PTSD, just FYI. IDK if anyone finds that important, but it's fairly obvious by the line "He wasn't in his bedroom. Lewis didn't just slam his head into a desk; his head had been slammed into the [arcade] game."
"Why did he hallucinate a scene from his childhood?" Oh, it's not PTSD, then. It's just the VENTILATION ERROR. lol Okay.
Just a note, as I'm reading through the more action-based stuff, I kind of feel bad for Michael if he had flashbacks like this guy. They're intense.
So, Lewis' voice finally comes out of Springtrap on Pg 213. There's that.
Pg 220 "You can just stay there [in his room]" Kind of a paralell to Midnight Motorist. Lewis is saying it to Hudson. I really feel like the kid in the MM game is Michael because of this story...
Pg 223 "Heat purges. Fire heals." I'm sure that's Henry's life motto.
The ending was stupid, but most in these stories are. Hudson is hallucinating and is implied to have burned himself alive in FF's oven. Meh? The first half of this one is A TRIP and a little insight into what I 100% believe is Michael's childhood. I think the saddest part of it all is that we never got Springtrap speaking to Michael in FNAF 3--and if it's ever remade I hope we get more of them interacting.
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skieswords · 3 years
Text
Sorry For The Wait {Charlie Gillespie x OC}
Summary: Alex is a lowkey youtuber, known for funny vlogs of her just existing. She’s avoided the relationship question for the longest time, but has decided it’s time to come clean to her followers. 
Warning: Fluff, swearing, mention of alcohol, and sexual innuendo cause I’m incapable of writing anything without it.
Alex was wandering round the kitchen, in his old shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts that really didn’t cover much. She hummed an undistinguishable melody under her breath as she went about making her morning coffee, dancing to the song in her head. Charlie grinned from his position in the doorframe, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed as he watched his girlfriend be her usual dorky self. She spun round suddenly, feeling eyes on her. “Oh, morning Char, when did you get back?” Charlie laughed under his breath and uncrossed his arms, stepping towards her and pulling her into his chest. “It’s not exactly morning, is it.” He nodded towards the clock on the oven that read 13.47, sighing when she shrugged and pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping away to pick up her coffee cup. “It’s my morning.” Charlie rolled his eyes but nodded, helping himself to a banana from the fruit bowl, and leaning against the counter. Alex jumped onto the counter opposite, and swung her legs, sipping happily. Sitting there looking absolutely content, in his clothes and drinking her coffee, Charlie felt his heart swell. “I wanna go public.” He blurted it out, rather unexpectedly, for both parties. His eyes widened as he realised what he’d said, and looked down to his boots, still caked with mud from that morning’s not so sunny hike. “Didn’t we agree you’d stop wearing boots in the house? You hate vaccuming.” She jumped off the counter and made her way towards him, wrapping her arms around him and setting her coffee down on the countertop, resting her chin on his chest. He looked down at her with a soft smile, her blue eyes bearing into his hazel ones. “If you’re up for it, I’m down.” She smiled up at him, her voice soft and slightly excited. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and let his hand wrap around her waist, fingers drawing light patterns on her spine. “Yes please. I want everyone to know you’re mine.” Alex grinned and kissed along his jaw, until pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Okay. When?” She broke away from him and unwrapped some toaster waffles, pushing down the button on the toaster before making her way back into his arms. “Today. Fuck it, let’s do it now.” She raised her eyebrows at him, and fiddled with his chain nervously. “Have you checked with Kenny? Didn’t he say-” Charlie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, Kenny gave me the all clear like 2 months ago. I just wasn’t sure if you were okay with it.” Alex rolled her eyes, and patted his head jokingly, stretching like a cat and moaning happily when her back cracked loudly. “Of course I am. Dude do you know how many videos I’ve got planned for when people know about us?” Charlie laughed and stood up properly, kicking his shoes off and frowning slightly at the mud that scattered the floor as he did. “Great, let’s get them all filmed. Go get changed though, I’m not taking you on live in them.” He indicated her shorts, reaching a hand round to grab her ass. “Hey, they’re not that bad.” Charlie raised his eyebrows at her, and pointed to the doorway. “Fine. But I’m not wearing a bra and you can’t make me.” He rolled his eyes and smirked, pulling his phone out and walking through to the living room, stopping outside their bedroom door and watching as she pulled her shorts down. He bit his lip and caught her eye, shooting her a wink, before settling onto the sofa, setting his phone up on the tripod. 
“Hellooo, people. Okay, so I’ll just let some people file in. Sheesh, how many of you are there? That’s like 4000 already and it’s been like 10 seconds. Okay just a few more... Great. Hi everyone, uh, this is just a quick one to answer a question a lot of people have been asking me since the show came out. Before I do, I just want to say you guys know how much I love you, and how grateful I am for all the support, but I really need you guys to respect me with this. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, and I’ve only held off because I was waiting for someone to agree.” 
From behind the camera, Alex emerged from their bedroom, her hair freed from it’s bun and falling around her shoulders as she fidgeted. She was nervous, having only been in front of an online audience of a couple thousand before, and she’d never been exposed to Charlie’s followers. They read the comments on his posts together sometimes, and she often stalked fan pages when she was bored and he was out hiking. The girls were crazy about him. Understandably of course, the man was gorgeous, and talented, and funny, and a million other things that had indeed made her fall in love with him in the first place. Kenny had asked that cast members (besides Jeremy, who already had a very public fiancée) to keep any relationships on the downlow, in order to keep the guys sex appeal up to fans. Alex had agreed, knowing it would help the show sell, and had deleted the few posts of Charlie on her instagram profile. None of them really made it look like they were in a relationship, and they were mostly group shots anyway, taken on day trips to Newfoundland, or on the beach with other friends. So her own followers, besides her close friends and family, had no idea she was even in a relationship. Still, it wasn’t fair to tease his fans, so she’d removed the posts all the same. Thinking of her instagram, she pulled her own phone out and took a picture of herself in the living room mirror with her tongue out, captioning it ‘head over to @charles_gillespie for an exciting announcement!’ before leaving her phone on the sidetable and grabbing her coffee from the kitchen.
“Okay, so we’ve waited like 3 years or something to do this. Guys, this is Alex. My girlfriend.” Alex walked into the frame and took a seat next to Charlie, avoiding eye contact with the camera. She wasn’t camera shy- she was a youtuber, it was second nature to her. But a bunch of batshit crazy fangirls? Terrifying. Charlie slipped an arm around her shoulders and made a show of bringing their heads together, plastering a silly grin on his face. His smile was infectious, and Alex mirrored it, sipping her coffee carefully before setting it down next to wear Charlie’s foot sat on the coffee table. “Knock that over and I’m kicking you out.” He laughed and kissed her hair, leaning forward to read the comments. 
“OMG, it’s @alexmvlogsz!”
“I knew it, there are old photos of the two of them everywhere.”
“It won’t be serious, they’ve probs only just got together.”
“She’s defo with him for the fame.”
“He’s too hot for her.”
“I’m so here for this!” 
Alex noticed Charlie’s frown and leant forward, reading them over his shoulder. “Ha, you guys are funny. Yes, hi it’s me, Alex. Yes, there are a lot of photos of us going around. Yuh okay you’re wrong, been together for like 4 years now I think? Also, we started dating while I had more followers than Charlie. So, uh go follow me because I’m cooler than him. Oh you are so right, he’s way too hot for me. And we are also here for this!” Charlie looked at her with an adoring smile, kissing her head again and pulling her into his side. “She’s hotter than me, actually. Anyways, this is Alex, love of my life. Just thought I’d share that with you guys.” Alex waved and laughed as a storm of comments came through, a combination of support and hate. “Okay, I’m gonna end it there. Bye y’all.” Charlie clicked the end button and collapsed back onto the sofa, frowning slightly. “People are so mean. Why can’t they just accept that I love you?” Alex shrugged and kissed him, moving to straddle his lap. “They will in time. But half of them are in love with you, they don’t want to accept it. It’s fine though, I’m used to it, don’t worry.” Charlie grumbled under his breath, leaning forward to rest his head against her chest. “Hey, while their all still on their phones, do me a favour and put a question box on your story for a Q&A video?” Charlie nodded and grabbed his phone from behind her, keeping one hand on her back so she didn’t fall. Alex yelped as he stood up, automatically wrapping her legs round his waist, and her arms round his neck. “What the fuck Charlie?” He laughed and wandered over to the same mirror Alex had taken her selfie in a few minutes earlier, holding up his phone and taking a photo of them. “For the story. I can post photos of you now, thank god.” Alex held on, resting her head on his shoulder as he typed behind her back, before tossing his phone onto the sofa and grinning at her. She raised her head and looked at him with her eyebrows raised. “Are you going to put me down now?” Charlie shook his head and walked towards the bathroom, arms wrapped around her. “I need a shower, and you’re joining me. “ Alex laughed but let him carry her, kissing along his jawline with a happy smile. 
*****
Hair soaking wet and faces flushed, they collapsed into bed side by side, Alex resting her head on Charlie’s chest. “I have an idea.” Charlie looked down at her, and ran his fingers through the damp strands of hair. “We should call Owen over. We’ll do a Q and A, but he has to read out the questions, and if we try to answer wrong or something, he can reveal the truth. Plus he can throw in his opinions, and it’ll be funny.” Charlie laughed softly, and nodded, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone. He clicked on Owen’s contact, and facetimed him, pulling the duvet up to cover Alex just in time. “I didn’t mean ask him right now. But okay.” Owen picked up, and grinned into the camera as he saw Charlie. “Hey, I’m just heading out to do some stuff but I can speak to you in the car. What’s up?” Charlie didn’t speak, simply angling the camera so that Owen could see them both, Alex’s red cheeks standing out against the white of the duvet cover pulled up to her shoulders. His face fell when he took in her appearance, groaning and pulling his hat over his face. “Look, Charlie, I love you, and I tolerate you Alex, but I saw enough of this in Vancouver. Seriously man, she has no clothes on.” Charlie nodded, and smirked. “Yuh, and she’s staying like that for the rest of the day. Anway, she wants to talk to you.” He handed the phone to Alex and sat up, reaching over to grab Alex’s phone from the charger. Owen rolled his eyes and sat Alex on his car stand, turning the keys in the ignition, and starting to drive. Alex made sure the sheet was tucked tightly under her arms, before moving out of Charlie’s grip, and leaning against the headboard. “Okay, so I was thinking.” Owen grunted in response and raised his eyebrows, avoiding looking at her. “Never a good thing. Just saying, if you flash me it’s not my fault, and manchild over there can’t get mad.” Charlie stuck his middle finger up at Owen, not looking up from Alex’s phone, which he was spamming with selfies. “Yeah, whatever. Anyway. I was thinking, Charlie just told all his followers we’re together- just incase you didn’t notice- and I want to do a Q & A on my channel. I think it’ll be even funnier if you ‘host’ it, and you can throw in random stories and opinions and whatever? You know us better than anyone,” Owen laughed bitterly and leaned forward, looking out his window. “Yeah, unfortunately. God, I was so happy when you went home. Okay, so when do you want to film this?” Alex looked over at Charlie and smiled seeing him scrolling through her instagram feed. “I don’t mind, when you next free?” Owen shrugged, and the familiar ticking of an indicator came through the phone. “As long as you two are fully clothed, I’ll come over on Wednesday? I have to come to LA to meet some people anyway, we can grab dinner after?” Alex nodded and watched as Charlie set her phone down, and slid down the bed, resting his head on her stomach. She ran her free hand through his hair, smiling as his eyes closed at the sensation. “Yeah that works. I’ll see if Sav wants to come too. Okay, I’ll see you then.” Owen nodded and waved at her, smiling as she flipped the camera to show Charlie. “He’s such a baby. Okay, you two go do whatever you two do. I’ll catch you later.” Charlie flipped him off once more, not lifting his head from where it rested, and Alex hung up. “You want a nap?” Charlie groaned slightly, indicating yes. “Cool, me too. Let me get the blinds.” Charlie sat up with an incredulous expression. “You woke up like an hour and a half ago woman, how are you tired already?” Alex looked at him with raised eyebrows and pulled a shirt out of their wardrobe. His shirt, to be clear. He watched as she dragged it over her head and flipped the blinds so that the room was darker, and held his arms out to her as she climbed back into their king sized bed, cuddling into his warm chest as they passed out for a couple of hours.
*******
“Hey guys! Most of you will already know, because we announced it a few days ago, but for those of you who don’t, today I’m introducing you to my boyfriend properly! The incredibly hot Charlie Gillespie.” Charlie waved awkwardly to the camera from his spot on the sofa, looking to Alex who was on the other side, almost 2 feet of space between them. “We figured we’d do a Q and A, so you guys sent in some questions, and well, we’re gonna answer them. Also, we have another special guest with us.” Owen appeared, and sat in between them, grinning at the camera. “Wouldn’t be a show without me. Okay so basically these two are disgustingly in love, and have been for a disgusting amount of time. Alex is using me for clout, and now you’re going to find out all of the gory details about their relationship.” Alex smacked him gently and handed him Charlie’s phone, the question response boxes all ready to read. “Okay, first question.
How long have you guys known eachother, and how did you meet? Owen looked between them, and pointed to Charlie. “I want to hear him get this wrong.” Charlie rolled his eyes and leaned forward, looking at Alex, who nodded. “Okay. We met nearly 4 years ago, when Alex moved over here for college. I was in LA that weekend, and I bumped into her in the street. We got to talking, and I ended up taking her out that night. That was pretty much it if I’m honest, nothing that exciting.” Alex scoffed and flipped her hair behind her shoulders. “Not quite. I took him out, and he fangirled the whole time. His sister had watched a few of my youtube videos, and he- and I quote- thought I was really pretty.” Charlie stuck his tongue out at her, and Owen groaned, resting his head in his hands. “We’re only one question in and I’m already sick of the both of you. Okay, next question.”
Do you guys live together, and if so where? Alex raised her eyebrows and laughed. “Most of the time we live together, yes. This is my apartment in LA, and I’d say we’re here at least 8 months of the year. But at christmas we go to New Brunswick to see Char’s family, and we go visit my family in thesummer. And sometimes I’m in New Zealand, and he’ll go on holiday with his boyfriend here.” Owen grinned and held Charlie’s hand, resting his head on his friends shoulder. Charlie leaned into him, making them appear like a very loved up couple. “Yeah, so we live together most of the time, apart from when we’re visiting friends or family, or if he’s working.” Charlie nodded and looked to Owen, who continued scrolling through boxes. “Oh my god some of these are dodgy. Jesus, look at this one!” He showed it to Alex, who burst out laughing. “Okay, I’m answering that but we’re not reading out the actual question.” She climbed to her feet and turned side on to the camera, smoothing out her t-shirt against her chest, giving a decent view of her side profile. “Whoever asked what kind of man Charlie is, I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself. He doesn’t get a choice in the matter- I only have one of the above.” Charlie read the question over Owen’s shoulder, before frowning and reaching out for Alex, pulling her onto his knee. “Shut up, you’re perfect and I love every bit of you.” He started peppering her face with kisses, laughing alongside her. Owen jumped to the other side of the sofa, grimacing. “Disgusting. Okay, next question. Ooh, this one’s juicy.”
Alex, do you and Madison get along, and have you ever been jealous of her relationship with Charlie? Owen made a show of trying not to laugh, and Alex rolled her eyes. “Mads is like a little sister to me. We get on really well, and her and Charlie’s relationship is best friends, nothing more. I mean, to be fair I’d totally adopt her if I could. Having her living with me would me pretty cool.” Charlie frowned and shook his head. “No. I’m not living with the both of you. You’d never stop singing.” Alex nodded happily. “And the only thing I’m jealous of her for is she doesn’t have to live with him. Or share a kitchen with him.” Charlie flicked her in the side of the head, kissing the afflicted area shortly after, while Owen nodded in agreement. “That brings us nicely on to the next one.”
Who’s got the worst eating habits? Owen rubbed the back of his neck and looked straight at the camera. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Alex is worse than Charlie, folks. And you’ve seen how he eats.” Charlie pushed Alex off him and jumped up, pointing his fingers at her as he danced around in front of the camera. Alex’s jaw dropped, and she leant forward, pointing at Charlie accusingly. “He eats eggs with peanut butter. Do you know how gross that is?” Charlie grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, sinking back into his seat. “You eat ham, and peanut butter. You can’t talk.” Alex groaned and flipped him off behind Owen’s head. “Fine, what’s the next one?” Owen grinned and scrolled a bit, laughing out loud before putting the phone facedown.
Who’s most likely to get jealous? He smirked at the camera, and shared a look with Alex, who was grinning. They turned back to the camera and spoke simultaneously. “Charlie.” At his name, he groaned and grabbed a pillow, smothering his face with it. “Very much Charlie. Do you want to hear something funny? Of course you do. Owen, I’ll let you take this one.” Alex sat back, smiling smugly, while Charlie looked at her with pure betrayal written all over his face. “While we were in Vancouver last year, filming for the show, Alex here, came to stay with us for 2 months. This was the first time I’d met her, besides a few facetime calls. We got on really well, and hung out a lot on and off set, while I wasn’t filming. Our lovely Charlie, decided he was going to absolutely freak out about this, and started a fight in the middle of the freaking lot, in front of the entire cast and crew, because he thought I was after Alex.” Charlie groaned from behind the pillow, and Alex laughed. “He thought Owen was flirting with me, and yelled at him for a straight 7 minutes, while we just kinda stood there and looked at each other. I felt so bad, I took Charlie home that night and sat with him for like 3 hours, and then I took them both out for dinner the next night. It was weird.” Owen snorted and rubbed his forehead. “You did not just sit with him. I shared an apartment with you, I was in the next room.” Alex punched his arm, and leaned over to ruffle Charlie’s hair. “He’s just protective, you should see him when we go out together, he literally refuses to leave my side.” Owen nodded and smiled at Charlie’s flushed face. “He’s stupid protective of her. One of the crew members actually did flirt with her. We’re lucky the guy’s still alive.” Charlie rolled his eyes at them both and held his hands up. “I had to compete with an entire college full of guys to keep her. And I have 3 brothers. I’m used to fighting for what’s mine.” Alex smiled and stood up, pushing Owen into her spot and sitting beside him, taking Charlie’s hand. “Yeah, what he said. Next question Owen?” Owen shook his head and scrolled once more, raising his eyebrows occasionally. “Okay, this should be easy.”
Who’s the most annoying to live with? Charlie and Alex both immediately pointed to her, and Owen nodded his head. “Even just while we were in Vancouver, this girl drove me up the wall. I don’t know how Charlie does it.” Charlie smirked and rubbed his jaw. “He gets well compensated for his troubles.” Charlie shrugged and nodded, laughing at Owen’s expression. “She’s incapable of showering without leaving the entire bathroom flooded, she never does the laundry unless I phone her four times and ask her to do it, she has never touched the vaccum in her life, and the bed only gets made when she’s not living here. Not to mention she’s the messiest person in the world, and our room is literally carpeted with her- actually wait no, MY clothes, because she never wears her own stuff. Exhibit A.” Alex stood up and spun around, showing off her outfit of Charlie’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “He loves me for it though.” She dropped back onto the sofa, smiling as she felt Charlie’s arm slip around her waist and pull her in to his side. “Let’s do some nice ones.”
Are you guys morning people? All three of them laughed, and Alex buried her face in Charlie’s chest. “Owen, is like a late morning early afternoon person. I’m always up before 9, I like doing stuff in the mornings. I sleep in on Saturdays sometimes, or I’ll stay in bed and watch a movie with Alex. But Alex doesn’t get up unless she absolutely has to. Today she got up at like 1230 I think? And that’s early for her, and it was only after a lot of persuasion.” Alex bit her lip, remembering the persuasion Charlie had used that morning, and feeling a familiar heat take over her face. Owen pulled a face, also knowing what he meant, and gagged. “Disgusting. But yeah, I’ll second that. When she lived with us, we’d go home for lunch sometimes, or we’d have a halfday, and she’d still be sleeping. Like Charlie would go in and get her at like 4pm. And she’d wake up and go get coffee. At 4pm.” Charlie nodded, and Alex sighed, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face. “In my defense, I’m normally up pretty late. I work best at night, and I can never fall asleep before like 3 or 4am.” She shrugged, and leant on Charlie, who was blushing ever so slightly. “We know, Alex, we know. Let me give you a piece of advice, folks. See if your best mate’s girlfriend comes to stay, after 2 months of being apart? Stay away from the apartment for at least 3 days. Maybe a week. Move out if you can. They kept me up, Every. Freaking. Night. I don’t know how Charlie was able to function at 5.30 in the morning, considering he could’ve gotten like maximum an hour of sleep. He was on vocal rest for a reason.” Owen raised his eyebrows at the camera, and Alex hid her face, while Charlie puffed out his cheeks and looked around, avoiding the camera. “Moving swiftly on, what’s the next question Owen?” The blonde grinned and scrolled once more, chuckling under his breath.
What’s your guys favourite thing to do together? Owen looked at them dubiously as Alex clapped her hands, and Charlie grinned. “Besides that.” Charlie rolled his eyes and reached over to clip Owen over the ear, and Alex ducked as they play fought over the top of her. Finally breaking apart, Charlie straightened his shirt and resumed his hold on Alex. “It’s between travelling and playing. With Alex’s family in the UK, and mine in Canada, we fly around quite a lot. Besides, we both love seeing new places, and we have friends all over the place.” Alex nodded and smiled excitedly. “I can’t wait, we’re going to see Mads for her 17th birthday next week- she doesnt’t know, but I won’t post this until we’re there, so it’ll be fine. And we went to visit my dad in New Zealand last month- that was fun. We went to Hawaii, of course, with Jer and that. That was incredible.” Charlie nodded, watching with an adoring expression as his girlfriend’s face lit up, while she spoke about the places she loved so much. “Hawaii was awesome, but I gotta say, going to the UK is like wow. It’s so different over there.” Alex looked at her feet shyly, nodding slightly. “For sure, and my friends are uh, very different from our friends here.” Charlie raised his eyebrows in agreement, feeling Alex’s grip on his hand get a little tighter. “But yeah, besides travelling it’s got to be playing together. We sing together all the time, I’m pretty sure our neighbours hate us.” Alex brightened up and laughed, nodding eagerly. “Honestly, most of the time that’s what we’re doing at like 1am. I’ll get a song stuck in my head and force Charlie to play it for me. He’s so much better at guitar than I am.” Charlie shook his head and held a hand out in excitement. “Nah, see when I tell you this girl can sing, oh my GAWD. There’s a reason I fell in love with her. And she plays piano, and guitar, although I am still teaching her that. And violin!! How cool is that? She’s teaching me. So yeah, our neighbours hate us.” Owen smiled as he watched his best friends talk about each other, the love between them so obvious and real. “Okay, we’ll do like two or three more.”
Who takes longer to get ready in the morning? Instantly pointing at each other, Owen laughed, and pointed to Charlie. “100% this man. She just throws her hair up and puts on whatever he wore the day before. This man has a full haircare routine, every fricking morning. Like seriously, it’s just hair!” Alex nodded in agreement, running her hands through Charlie’s hair. “It is very nice hair though. Nah for sure, Charlie takes longer to get ready first thing, but when we’re going out, it’s me. Like out out, I mean. I’m so indecisive. In Vancouver Savannah literally nearly stabbed me cause I was taking so long.” Charlie grinned and nodded, Owen mirroring his actions. “Never ask her to go out unless you have at least 4 hours to kill. 3 hours for her to be indecisive, and then another for her to be late.” Alex grinned and tilted her head to the side. “Girls, am I right? HA. I’m funny. Okay, moving on.”
Who’s most fun on a night out? Charlie and Owen pointed to Alex simultaneously, who just shrugged and nodded. “I was raised in Scotland, so when I drink, I drink hard. Nobody could keep up with me when we went out in Vancouver. Seriously, Charlie tried and we nearly had to take him to the ER.” Charlie scoffed at this, but the blush spreading up his neck said all that needed to be said. Owen laughed at the memory, and set the phone down. “No really, it was so funny. This tiny 5′5 girl knocking back vodka like it’s water, and Charlie’s trying not to throw up in the corner after like 2. This girl’s liver is deceased.” Alex grinned and kicked her feet up on the table proudly. “Proud drinker since I was 13. Shit, this is going on the internet. Okay, forget I said that. Owen?” Owen reached out and grabbed the phone, scrolling through again.
Do you have any tattoos? Owen rolled up his sleeve and showed off the ghost drummer on his forearm, and Charlie stood up next to him, placing their ghostly characters next to each other. They pulled their shirt sleeves down, and looked to Alex, who groaned and stood up. “I have a few, but they’re pretty small.” She came up close to the camera, followed by Charlie, who helped her pull the collar of her shirt down, and swept her hair away from the nape of her neck, revealing the small outline of a triangle at the top of her spine. “I’ve got that, and then-” She pulled her top up, and showed a single word written on her ribcage, in gaelic. ‘teine’. “It says fire, in scottish gaelic. And this one.” She held her hand up to the camera, showing a daffodil on the inside of her middle finger on her right hand. “And then I have another one on my leg, but obviously can’t show that.” She settled back onto the sofa, smacking Charlie when he laughed. “It’s hardly on her leg. It’s like-” She held a hand over his mouth and smiled at Owen, asking silently for the next question. “Oh wow, okay I like this one.”
Alex, how do you get along with the JATP cast, and who’s your favourite? Owen looked at Alex expectantly, who just rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “I love them, so much. While Char was away I was constantly on the phone, and they’d just pass me around depending on who was filming. A lot of it was because Charlie was afraid I’d get lonely, but also because he was so busy that he could only grab a couple of minutes to speak to me every now and again. While I was in Vancouver, me and Owen definitely spent a lot of time together, and he showed me round the city while Charlie and Mads were doing perfect harmony shoots and stuff, which was an experience and a half. Note to self, Owen is incredibly competitive at arcade games.” Alex slipped her hand into Charlie’s as she spoke about her time with Owen, knowing he’d probably start overthinking it. “But Mads and I got super close. Like everytime the boys were filming we’d go to craft services and eat our weight in brownies. We made them a lot too, in the apartment. We literally facetime everyday. And Savannah too, oh my god I love that girl so much. She’s like my best friend. I wouldn’t have made it over there without her, she literally picked me up from the airport when someone forgot I was coming.” Charlie held his hands up in defense, and Alex rolled her eyes. “He didn’t forget I was coming, he just ‘lost track of time’. But honestly, I can’t pick a favourite, they’re like family to me.” She smiled at Owen, and leaned back against Charlie, meaning every word. “Aw. How cute. I’m the favourite. Next question. Oh wow, this is a biggie.”
Charlie, are you going to propose? Alex’s eyes widened, and she coughed, turning to look at Charlie. “Good question. It’s nearly four years. Where’s the ring, Charlieboy?” Charlie chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the sofa. “Got a while yet, got to train her up a bit better first.” Alex punched him in the arm, and he winced, rubbing it and glaring at her. “I’m joking, obviously. She’s only just 21, so we’re gonna wait a bit- but yes, I will. One day. If she doesn’t kill me with her cooking first.” Owen raised his eyebrows and brought a leg up underneath him, scrolling through the questions. Alex looked at Charlie with a pout, crossing her arms and moving away from him. “Oh my god, you’re such a child. Yes, I’m going to propose, just not now and not anytime soon! Yikes.” Alex grinned and kissed his cheek, waiting for the next question. “Right, we’ll make this the last one?” Alex and Charlie nodded, Alex tucking her legs up to her chest as she leaned back against Charlie, her head resting on his arm, which was thrown across the back of the couch.
What’s your favourite thing about each other? Alex smirked and looked Charlie up and down, winking at the camera. Charlie did something similar, his arm moving down the sofa and grabbing at her hip, making his intentions more than clear. Owen gagged, and spun round, holding his forehead in his hands and shaking his head. “Joking. I love Charlie’s passion. He gets so invested in the things he loves, and watching him speak about stuff he’s genuinely interested in and excited for is the cutest thing in the world. He gets these like sparkles in his eye, and he jumps up and down and god it’s adorable. I also like his abs. They are, in a word exquisite. Not to mention his arms.” Charlie rolled his eyes, but pressed a loving kiss to her temple. “I love how talented Alex is. There’s not really anything she can’t do. Literally, she’s musical, athletic, and she’s like stupid smart. She has a degree. From college. Like woah. And I also love when she gets super excited about something, or when she gets like really emotional- not sad, just when she’s feeling something really intensely, she starts like bouncing up and down in her seat, and clapping her hands or shaking them really fasr. It’s literally like the most adorable thing ever. And her ass. It’s pretty cool too.” Owen coughed and held a hand up. “Right well, there’s one thing she can’t do. She can’t dance. Like at all. It’s quite funny.” Charlie nodded, as did Alex. “Dancing, definitely not my forte. Also, when he says athletic, he means I played field hockey in high school and college. The most exercise I get now is when he’s hor-” Owen stood up quickly, and Charlie covered her mouth with his hand. “Okay, that’s all for this video! Hope you guys are suitably grossed out. Thanks for watching, goodbye!!!”
Owen turned off the camera, and Alex grinned before turning to Charlie, connecting her lips with his in a soft kiss. Finally being allowed to talk about her relationship was a major relief, after having to hide it for so long. “Gross, can you wait til I’m gone at least?” Alex rolled her eyes and flipped him off, climbing off the sofa. “No, cause we’re going out for dinner. Can you call Sav, baby? Let her know we’ll be like an hour?” Charlie nodded, watching her with a dazed smile as she wandered into their bedroom, already tying her long hair up out of the way for a hard session of outfit searching. “You’re in so deep with that one, man.” Owen looked at Charlie knowingly, who just shrugged and continued to smile. “What can I say. She’s the one.” Owen shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, happy that another one of his best friends had found real love. Charlie scrolled through the contacts on Alex’s phone, clicking on Savannah’s name and raising the phone to his ear. He jumped when she picked up, holding the phone at arm’s length. “Oh my god, Sav it’s me, not Alex. She said to tell you we’re going out in a couple of hours, and to be ready to go for 7. That cool?” Savannah spoke rapidly on the other side of the line, agreeing and squealing with excitement when she heard Owen would be there. “I’ve missed you guys! Okay, see you soon!” Charlie hung up and set his girlfriend’s phone down, reaching for the remote, and turning on the TV. “Wanna watch the NHL?” Owen nodded, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, and looking at the clock on the wall. It was only half three.
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suituuup · 3 years
Text
crushing it
A day in the life of Bechloe with triplets and a seven-year-old. For the lovely @snowonebutyou as a birthday gift <3
rated: G
word cout: 1,600
ao3 link
*
Mornings in the Beale-Mitchell household are often chaotic. 
(who is Beca kidding. Always. Always chaotic.) 
When Abigail turned three, Chloe and Beca decided they wanted to have another baby. 
To their utter shock, it wasn’t one heartbeat that showed up on the ultrasound, but three. 
Three babies. Triplets. 
Following a few hours of panic (mostly on Beca’s end, because she would be the one birthing them), Chloe reminded Beca that they were the best team, and that they would, in Amy’s words, crush it. 
Fast forward four and a half years, Beca does believe they’re crushing it, even if it’s hectic from waking-up to drop-off and from pick-up to bedtime. 
Honestly, though? Beca wouldn’t change it for the world. 
“Mama, I’m lost!”
Beca glances over her shoulder to find Jacob struggling to put on her sweater as his head is stuck in the sleeve. 
She chuckles, abandoning Jamie for a second to crawl on all-fours over to her other son. “Hold on, baby.” She pulls on the sleeve and twists the sweater, Jacob’s head popping through in the right hole this time. “There you are. Now put your pants on, quick! We don’t wanna be late for school.” 
“Mamaaaaa!” Eleanor, the youngest of the tribe and by far the most mischievous one, zooms into the room from the bathroom. “My teeth are all brushed!”
Beca manages to bite back the f-word when she realizes Ellie also smeared toothpaste all over her top. She doesn’t want to stomp on her daughter’s pride by scolding her for being messy when she accomplished a task all by herself, and takes a deep, centering breath. 
“Good job. We might wanna change your top, though.” She pushes to her feet, rummaging through the dresser top drawer for something clean. “Here you go.” 
“That’s Jamie’s!” Eleanor cries, pouting. “It’s got a dinosaur on it, Mama!” 
“Yeah well lucky you, because dinosaurs are really cool.” 
That seems acceptable for Ellie, who accepts to switch without further argument. 
“Alright, let’s brush our teeths boys and go downstairs!” 
While one of them gets the triplets ready for school, the other puts their lunch boxes together and cleans up breakfast. 
“All good?” Chloe asks when they round the corner to the kitchen a few minutes later. 
Beca huffs, making a bee-line for the counter to take a much-needed sip from her coffee. Great, it’s cold. She grimaces and sets the mug down. “Ugh.” 
“I poured fresh one in your travel mug,” Chloe lets her know with a soft wink as she gives each triplet their backpack containing their lunches.  
Beca groans, snagging it. “I love you.” 
“Love you, too.” Chloe pecks Beca’s lips before calling upstairs, “Abigail, time to go!” 
“Alright monsters, shoes.” Beca ushers the triplets to the entryway where their shoes are stored. 
“I do it, Mama,” Jamie says, because they’ve obviously got time to practice shoe lacing this morning. 
Summoning the patience she definitely didn’t have before becoming a mom, Beca smiles, observing. She’s gotta admit, Jamie sticking his tongue out in concentration is adorable. “Cross, loop, loop and tie. Good job!” 
She high fives him, then grabs their three coats, handing them over. Their oldest appears and quickly puts her shoes on, standing on the tip of her toes to unhook her coat herself. 
“Alright, let’s roll, fam!” Once Chloe’s kissed each child goodbye, they step out of the house and pile into the van (yep, they’ve got a van now) with only two minutes behind schedule. 
“Mama play the song!” Eleanor requests once Beca’s pulled out of their driveway. 
Their children have impeccable taste in music, much to Beca’s pride. Ellie’s been obsessed with Lizzo’s Truth Hurts lately though, which… does include a few bad words and which landed Beca and Chloe a meeting with her Kindergarten teacher after Ellie apparently belted out “Turns out I’m a hundred percent that bitch” during recess. 
Later that day, Beca explained to their four-year-old daughter that the word bitch shouldn’t be said in public, even through song. 
They make it to school on time, Beca pulling up in the drop off section and watching her kids step out. “See you tonight guys, love you!” 
She enjoys the ten minutes of relative quiet over the drive to the office, contentedly sipping at her coffee as she hums along to the radio. After parking in her spot in front of the studio, she checks her phone to find a message from her wife. She chuckles, her cheeks warming up as she reads Chloe’s words. 
My love
Didn’t have time to tell you, but you’re rocking that work suit 🥵
Beca
Oh yeah? 
My love
Any chance you can stop by the clinic for lunch and… entertain me? 
Beca
Jesus, woman. 
I would, but today’s packed with meetings. 
I’ll make it up to you once the kids are asleep 😉
My love
Fine, I guess I’ll settle for that, then. Have a good day. Love you!
Smiling to herself, Beca replies with the same sentiment. 
Her work day is busy with meetings left and right and finishing up a project to meet the deadline, and Beca’s brain has turned to mush by the time she steps through the threshold of their home at the end of the day, a bit later than usual. 
Jacob, the most affectionate of their four kids greets her with a much-needed hug when she rounds the living room corner. Beca closes her eyes and inhales his shampoo, his hair still slightly damp from bath time. 
Bless her wife for handling the pre-dinner routine all by herself. 
“Thank you baby. Mama really needed that.” She lets him go, walking over to where Ellie and Jamie are playing on the floor and kissing each forehead. “Hey munchkins.” 
Abigail is coloring at the table while Chloe stirs something at the stove when Beca ventures into the kitchen next. She cards her fingers through her daughter’s red hair. “Hey baby. Whatcha drawing?” 
“Flowers,” the seven-year-old replies as she reaches for a different crayon. 
“Very pretty,” Beca says, bending down to kiss her head as well. She steps up to Chloe, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind. “Hey you.” 
Chloe leans back against her briefly. “Hi. Busy day?” 
“So busy. Thanks for handling everything by yourself, babe.” She brushes a kiss to Chloe’s cheek, squeezing her waist as she steps away. “Can I do anything to help?” 
“It’s almost ready so just get the kids to wash up?” 
Dinner is mostly entertained by their kids talking about the activities they did at school. Following a bit of playtime, both she and Chloe head upstairs to put them to bed. Abigail handles herself now, but she does still like for one of her moms to read her a story. 
“Mama?” She asks as soon as Beca closes the book to set it back on the shelf. 
“Yeah baby?” 
“What’s it like to be in love?” 
Beca blinks in shock, far from expecting that question from her seven-year-old. She supposes it’s better than the where do babies come from? bomb, but still. 
“Um, well…” she clears her throat, shifting so that she’s facing Abigail as opposed to sitting beside her. She thinks about her wife, and tries to put how she feels in clear words. “Basically, it’s… thinking about that person all the time, and feeling safe and really happy and… at home whenever you’re around them.”
“And you wanna kiss?” 
Beca purses her lips for a moment. “Um, sure. You may want to kiss them if you’re in love with them.” 
Abigail seems to mull that over for a little while. “Benjamin kissed me today, does that mean he’s in love with me?” 
Jesus Christ. Beca really wishes Chloe was here right now to handle this conversation. 
“No, not necessarily,” she says once she’s gathered her bearings. “People kiss other people without being in love. It might just be… an attraction, like, thinking someone is pretty.” 
Abigail grins. “I think he’s handsome.” 
Watching her seven-year-old daughter swoon over some boy is very unsettling and something Beca was definitely not ready for for another ten years at least. 
“So you wanted him to kiss you, then?” Beca asks tentatively to make sure that boy didn’t force Abigail to kiss him. 
Abigail nods. “It was cool.” 
Cool. Cool. Cool?! 
Beca sucks in a breath, mustering a smile. “Okay, as long as you agreed to it, that’s fine. You know that if a boy or a girl wants to kiss or hug you and you don’t want to, it’s okay to say no, right?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Good.” She bends down to kiss Abigail’s forehead. “Anything else before I go?” 
“Nope. Night, Mama.” 
“Goodnight, baby.” 
She tucks the covers up to Abigail’s chin and hits the main light on her way out, her brain reeling as she heads back downstairs. She finds Chloe folding a load of laundry on the couch with the TV on low, and lowers herself beside her. 
“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately, frowning at Beca’s expression. 
Beca clears her throat. “Our daughter is apparently… kissing boys.” 
“Which one?” 
“Abigail,” Beca hisses, shocked that Chloe would think that Ellie is old enough to be kissing anyone. 
Chloe simply smiles, picking up a pair of toddler jeans from the basket and folding them. “She’s seven, it’s pretty normal for her to explore those things.” 
Beca squints. “How old were you?” 
“About that age, I think. It was just a tiny peck.” She tosses the jeans on the folded pile and picks up another item. “My first real kiss was at thirteen.” 
“Who was it?” 
Chloe laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “What is this, an interrogatory?” 
“No, I’m just curious, I guess.” She shrugs, grabbing a towel from the basket to fold it. 
“His name was Jeremy. Too much tongue. Did not kiss him again.” 
“Ew. What is it with dudes and tongue?”
Chloe giggles. “Beats me.” She eyes her wife. “Who was yours?” 
“My neighbor Trevor. I was fifteen.” Beca closes her eyes and shudders exaggeratedly. “If I could erase it from my memory I would.” 
“Good thing you’re married to an excellent kisser to make up for the trauma, huh?” Chloe smirks and waggles her eyebrows, pulling a chuckle from Beca. 
“Dude, not to boost your ego even more or anything, but that first kiss sent me into another dimension. I just about forgot my own name.” 
“Aww. You were still a useless baby gay back then. Discovering the power of women.” 
“Shut up,” Beca mutters, shoving her wife as she flushes. She eyes the basket and groans. “How do we have so much laundry?” 
“Four kids, babe.” 
Beca sighs, then glances at Chloe, a smirk curving her lips. “Wanna leave it for tomorrow and make out?” 
Chloe’s on top of her before she can register it, muffling her squeak of laughter with a heated kiss. 
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