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neptuneiris · 4 months

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Behind the Scenes (05/05)

Behind the Success

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you and Aenar finally meet Aemond's family, closing one chapter of your life and starting a new one with Aemond in it.

word counter: 8.7k

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it's here!🥳

I've finally finished the chapter and I'm so excited for you guys to read this!

and how is it possible that another story is going to end soon? because if you didn't read my previous message, there will be an epilogue, so it's not yet the definitive goodbye for this little family we have created🤭

also before reading I want to thank you for your support and please leave me your opinion, lately the comments have gone down and I wish to read you🙏🏻

oh I also want to make a small clarification before you reed:

in the second chapter it is mentioned how aemond at the end confessed everything to his family in a desperate attempt to find Y/N. but let's forget that hehe🤭 let's pretend that aemond never told them so you can enjoy this chapter and the light drama you are about to read.

now read and enjoy, ily all!

warnings: slight angst, aemond's family melting our hearts when they meet aenar.

Aemond immerses himself in the world of acting with the same fierce dedication with which he confronts his characters on screen. Every move, every word, everything is carefully rehearsed and executed.

Each project is a challenge, an opportunity to explore new roles and demonstrate his versatility as an actor.

The hustle and bustle of the film set fills the air as he immerses himself in his role. The bright lights illuminate his face, conveying the intensity of his character as he delivers his lines with palpable emotion.

But when the bell rings, as well as the director's shout of "cut!" is heard, Aemond is Aemond again.

Behind all those shots, scenes, interviews and awards, no one knows that Aemond is a father, at least no one outside his close circle. He only confided the news to a few close co-workers, some production people and his older sister, Rhaenyra.

He managed to persuade some rumors after some people at first saw him entertaining Aenar in the nursery on the set, because even though there is nothing wrong with it and Aenar is his most precious treasure and a pride of his life, he knows it is better to protect him from the public eye.

And now that Aenar has his own nanny at home, sometimes even then the whispers would start to get too much and he would make sure that some member of the production crew, known for their ability to spread harmless gossip, would plant the idea that it was simply a close family friend of the child they had seen him with.

And in the midst of all his work and everything he has to do, Aemond finds the precious time to be with his son.

Aenar, a whirlwind of laughter and childlike energy, fills every space where the two are together with light. Games, stories and hugs become routine and Aemond cherishes every moment he can spend with him on his days off.

He even reduces his own working hours and focuses entirely on filming his scenes, also attending one or two interviews per month, in order to have more quality time with Aenar, who is more important than having to please the press at every moment.

And as he balances the intensity of the job with his responsibility as a father, Aemond fights for to rebuild the trust you once placed in him.

Every gesture, every conversation, was an effort to demonstrate that he is fully committed to getting things right this time. Every encounter with you, he demonstrates a quiet determination to making amends for past mistakes.

With carefully chosen words and acts of genuine support, he tries to show you that he understands the pain he had caused and is willing to go out of his way to regain your trust.

And you accept this, because you see how he makes an effort to open up more, to share his thoughts, his fears and his hopes. But above all, you see how he is making an effort with Aenar, which is the most important thing.

And you also see how parental responsibility has changed his perspective and maturity. But still, Aemond knows that rebuilding trust takes time and forgiveness is not something that can or should be rushed.

Even if you decide never to forgive him, he's okay with that and is getting the idea from now on that you only allow him to be close to you because of Aenar and only because of Aenar.

So in the meantime, you immerse yourself in your own workday.

The makeup and wardrobe trailer is a world of constant motion and productivity in any given area, though your mind is always on Aenar and also on Aemond.

And even though you both carry separate jobs at the same place during the day, you both manage to create a balance between your jobs and raising Aenar.

Evenings were for you and Aenar if Aemond didn't finish recording at the same time as your shift ends. And almost at dusk is when Aemond comes from work and devotes every minute of his free afternoon to Aenar.

Instead if you both finished your shifts at the same time, you both spent time together with Aenar.

However, the nights brought calm.

Once Aenar fell asleep and before Aemond retired, you and he find your own space to talk, share thoughts, talk about work or more importantly about Aenar. And today just happens to be one of those nights.

You finish cleaning the kitchen, while Aemond is sitting on one of the stools, with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking out the large windows to the back garden, thoughtful.

While he has in front of him the IPad with the image of the camera in Aenar's crib that records him sleeping, attentive and making sure he is well.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he says, breaking the silence in a soft voice, catching your attention.

You watch him from the sink, setting a clean, dry dish in the drainer, then drying your hands with a clean cloth.

"About what?" you ask him softly, attentively.

And he takes a moment before answering, thinking very carefully about his words and what he means, not wanting you to misunderstand him in any way.

"On Aenar and... us."

He confesses and you lean on the other side of the island that separates you both in front of him, giving him your full attention.

"At first..." he starts to say, slightly flustered, "You didn't want me to hide him from the world and I-I... well, I obviously disagreed with you."

He says and bites the inside of his cheek, lowering his gaze, feeling embarrassed.

"But now... I think it's not fair to him that no one has any idea that I have a son. It's also not fair for anyone to know that you're the mother of my child."

His gaze again meets yours and a sense of understanding envelops both him and you.

"Now things have changed," Aemond continues, his tone laden with sincerity, "And I know that you and I are n-not together but... maybe... I can announce the news, only if you want me to."

Silence fills the kitchen in its entirety for a moment, as Aemond holds his breath at your possible response, honestly feeling terrified to expect a bad reaction from you.

But none of that crosses your mind, on the contrary, you just digest his words. But your silence is what causes a mixture of expectation and anxiety in Aemond, who holds his gaze with yours, nervous.

And finally, with a serene sigh, you go around the island that separates the two of you and approach him, placing one of your hands on his shoulder gently and in an attempt to comfort and reassure him, instantly feeling his whole figure tense, while he watches you with his big healthy wide eye and his prosthetic eye remains the same as always.

"Aemond," you begin to say in a soft voice as he watches you completely attentively, "I always wanted you to recognize Aenar publicly, that was what I wanted most at first. But now...

You pause for a moment, thinking about your meditated words, as you sink for a second into your own thoughts and what you really want to say, as Aemond watches you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"I understand your world more now," you continue, "And, honestly, I can't blame you for not agreeing with me back then, only in this," you make clear, "Recognize him legally would have been the right thing to do and... enough," you say holding back the sadness in your tone of voice.

But Aemond catches that break in your voice, a moment of your vulnerability that makes him feel a sharp, simmering ache in his chest, as if every word you utter drops a weight on his shoulders, with shame again invading him, but this time with a mixture of deep remorse and regret.

A barely audible sigh escapes his lips, lowering his gaze, ashamed, feeling the burden of his past choices and he wonders amidst the brief silence if he will ever be able to fully redeem with himself.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it, as you gently squeeze his shoulder to bring his attention back to you.

"And now I understand that the press and people's opinions can be very dangerous and destructive," you say softly, "And I don't want that for Aenar, at least I don't want to deal with that yet," you confess, "I want him to grow up a little more and we can both enjoy his early years without having to worry about it."

An expression of surprise and also longing crosses Aemond's face, still watching you intently, processing your words.

"Are you sure?"

You place a soft smile on your lips.

"Very," you assure, "I just want him to grow up in a calm and safe place, without falling fame on him nor all this attention being so young," you explain, "I have no problem with it, but also your opinion counts."

"No, I-I... I want the same for him too," he agrees with you, nodding, with all the pressure and anxiety he felt being replaced by a mixture of gratitude and relief.

And you nod back at him, smiling softly in his direction.

"But..." he says with a slight urgency in his gaze and concern in his tone, "I just want you to know that when the time comes, I won't do it for attention or to be relevant."

He says seriously, softly and honestly.

""I'll do it because I know it's something I have to do, for him and for you, as in the beginning maybe it should have been. But for now I just want us to enjoy these moments and, when the time is right, make that decision together."

The room fills with the honesty of his words and you can feel the sincerity in each of them, as a sense of calm envelops you both and you share a soft, complicit smile.

"Sure," you nod to him, feeling a warmth wrap itself all over your chest.

Your gaze moves away from his for a moment, focusing on the iPad screen where Aenar is shown sleeping, while Aemond can't help but focus on the features of your face with an intensity that can't go unnoticed by you.

Deep longing is reflected in his gaze, with a palpable mix of regret and sadness that is projected beyond mere facial expression. And he feel that weight on his body and chest again, a burden he can't help but feel.

His healthy eye glides over your face as if searching for answers in every line of expression and in his gaze, you can perceive the longing to repair the irremediable, the need to know how much he regrets the decisions of the past.

"Y/N-

He starts to want to say, his voice laden with regret, but you turn your gaze to him and stop him.

"Aemond, we have already talked about this."

"But I'm sorry... I really am," he insists, with pain in his gaze, "And I know an apology isn't going to fix it, I know that, neither is anything else but... I am really sorry and you don't know how much I hate myself for everything I put you through."

"No," you shake your head, "There's no need for you to keep apologizing," you tell him softly, "It won't do either of us any good to keep bringing up the mistakes of the past. Nor will it serve you to keep punishing yourself for what has already happened," you say as tactfully as you can.

His expression reflects a mixture of gratitude and frustration with yourself.

"Yes, I know, I understand," he murmurs, lowering his gaze, "It's just... I feel like I have to say it."

"Aemond, what matters now is this, how we move forward from here now that we've both learned and grown. Aenar too," you add, "And that's all that matters."

He nods slowly in your direction, his gaze showing a mixture of appreciation and relief, even with the remorse within him, as you both then sink into a moment of silence, letting the unspoken words echo in the air, but you both know those words, they just don't need to be said.

The relationship dynamic between you and Aemond since then takes a new path, a less tense, more bearable path of total trust. And this is not lost when the two of you are together in Aenar's presence.

Until one day, on your day off precisely, Aemond after work, comes to you telling you some unexpected news.

"I told them."

You turn fully towards him, giving him your full attention, understanding but at the same time not what he really means.

The living room starts to feel tense, while Aenar completely oblivious to it continues to play on the floor with his toys, but you focus on his gaze, where there is a charge of confession in his eye and you notice his whole body in a position of determination but also nervousness.

"Come, sit down," you tell him in a soft voice, pointing to the couch, while at the same time getting up from the floor to take a seat next to him.

And he almost with a defeated expression and posture, does as you say, letting out a sigh.

"What happened?" you ask, watching him intently.

He inhales deeply, looking at Aenar on the floor, who is the only one who can make him feel a little calmer, as well as your presence next to him.

"I told them about everything that happened," he confesses to you, "Our relationship, your pregnancy, my team, the decision I made in the beginning, everything I caused and how much I hurt you," he says as he feels his heart knot, "Everything. Everything that happened from then until now... and Aenar."

His words leave a weight in the air, as you anticipate how bad and difficult that conversation must have gone with his family to see him this way, so serious and tense.

"And how did they react?"

Aemond closes his eye, lowering his gaze, his posture reflecting the emotional baggage he carries with him and how bad it definitely went with it.

"Just as I expected. Obviously they were disappointed in me."

He says without much emotion, but with slight pain in his tone

"My grandfather couldn't believe it and was shouting how come I kept all that from them. Hel was very shocked, Aegon and Daeron too. And mother said a few hurtful things, started crying and telling me how I could keep these things from her," he exhales deeply, "Rhaenyra and Daemon were the ones who helped me calm things down a bit, but still my grandfather and mother were upset with her for knowing and not saying anything."

The tension of what happened feels palpable, as if he is reliving his family's every reaction, with the heaviness of disappointment and pain reflected in his expression, as you beside hom, share the weight of that difficult moment.

You are both silent for a moment, only hearing the sounds of Aenar playing with his toys.

"I'm sorry," you whisper in his direction, placing your hand on top of his, as if trying to somehow ease the pain he feels, "It must have been very difficult for you."

"No, Y/N," he observes you instantly, speaking to you in a soft tone, "You don't have to apologize. I deserved this and I'm not saying it to cause pity or play the victim," he adds with earnest sincerity, "I'm saying it because it's true. This is the least I deserve after everything you had to go through because of me."

You decide not to say anything at this, just offer him your silent support, while he again seems lost in his own thoughts for a few long seconds, where neither of you say anything.

When suddenly, Aenar emits an infectious giggle, instantly attracting both of your attention.

His small hands hold a toy with enthusiasm, his smile and the tenderness he conveys bringing brightness to the living room and the state Aemond is in, who smiles softly at the scene, watching him with complete adoration.

He sighs and rises from the couch, moving towards him, holding him gently, needing the sensation at that moment of holding him in his arms.

Aenar squeals with excitement and joy, placing his small arms on his chest, moving energetically in his arms, smiling big at him with his blue eyes completely filled with a glow.

The scene makes you smile softly, especially when Aemond also takes one of his toys and begins to play with it in his arms as he starts to walk slowly around the living room, talking to it in a honeyed tone and causing Aenar to babble incomprehensible words but full of happiness in his tone.

And when Aenar entertains himself with his father's silver hair, Aemond speaks again, turning to you to observe you.

"Despite everything, they want to meet him," he says, watching Aenar in his arms, "And they also want to meet you, my mother more than anyone else."

And this also completely grabs your attention.

"Really?"

"Hmm," he nods, "But I didn't tell them yes or no," he lets you know, "I wanted to consult it with you first."

"But is this good or not?" you ask, looking to find positivity in the situation, "Or do you think they shouldn't know him yet?"

"Of course they should," he tells you softly, "I owe this to them, also to you. But as I tell you, I didn't know how you would react if I told you they would meet him soon, I wanted to check with you first."

You place a reassuring smile in his direction.

"Aemond, for me it's perfect for Aenar to meet his grandmother, his uncles and aunts. It's a great opportunity and will definitely be good for him," you assure him.

"Yes, it is," he nods, unconsciously beginning to imagine the moment, "They can come or we can go to them, whichever you decide."

"Either way is fine with me," you shrug, "When might that be?"

Aemond thinks for a moment before answering.

"We could arrange it next weekend. Sounds good?"

You nod with a reassuring little smile.

"Sounds good."

The Targaryen—Hightower family decides to come to you.

When Aemond gives you the news, even though at first you were totally fine and had no problem with it, inevitably knowing it instantly makes you nervous.

You've never met his family before, not even when you and Aemond were a couple for obvious reasons. And even though his family isn't involved within the entertainment and film industry, you've still heard enough about them to feel slightly intimidated.

About Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen more than anyone.

The uncertainty of how they will perceive you, especially after disappearing from Aemond's life without warning and also how they will treat you, that's what worries you the most.

But the fact that they will be coming to your house relieves you a little. Fortunately you won't be interacting with them in unfamiliar terrain and you're sure that the presence of Aenar, his toys and Aemond will go a long way to reassuring you.

"Do you need help?"

Aemond appears behind you, while you find yourself cleaning everything you can from your living room and Aenar, as usual, is sitting on the carpet with all his toys around him.

"I'm just cleaning up in here, then I'll go clean the kitchen."

"Don't worry, me and this little handsome will clean the kitchen."

He walks over to Aenar and takes him in his arms, who is already dressed in an outfit too cute for the occasion and smells like baby soap from the previous bath you gave him, ready to meet his family.

Aemond goes with him to the kitchen, sitting him in his perch, keeping an eye on him while at the same time starting to clean up.

You start moving some of Aenar's toys, organizing his play area a bit, to create a more orderly and cozy space in the living. You also mop the floor and arrange cushions.

Aemond washes a few dirty dishes and cleans all the shelves, also mops and spreads your favorite Lavender scent, which besides smelling amazing, calms your nerves.

You also ask him to help you tidy up the dining room while you clean the bathroom, wanting everything to look clean and spotless, while Aemond takes Aenar in his arms again to let him play in his play area and he watches him closely from that new distance.

"Maybe I should have cooked something?"

You walk over to him, slightly concerned.

"What? No," he turns to you, instantly, "Y/N, they're coming to meet Aenar, not to eat."

"I know, but..." you explain, nervously, "I thought maybe it would be a good idea to have something prepared, out of courtesy and.... I don't know. Won't it be rude of me if I don't have anything to offer them?"

"Of course not, you don't have to," he clarifies, more serious but with a soft tone, "If you want to have something prepared, let it be some drinks, nothing more."

Still you watch him hesitantly and worriedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure," he assures you, "In fact I'll prepare them. You rest and take care of Aenar. I'll finish cleaning up everything else."

"No, I-I-

"Rest," he repeats, interrupting you, placing a hand on your cheek gently, "I know this may be overwhelming, but they will come to meet Aenar and you too. And you don't have to put too much pressure on yourself. Everything will be fine."

Her warmth and understanding manage to comfort you a little, making you stop feeling so tense little by little.

"Now rest, okay?" he says softly to then walk past you and head towards the kitchen, not taking any argument back.

It's clear that he wants to lighten your load and make sure you feel comfortable about all this that's about to happen, with his actions conveying reassurance.

And finally after a while, you are ready and waiting in the living room with Aenar, playing with him, while Aemond is sitting on the single sofa and who a few minutes ago let you know that his family is on their way.

And after a few more long minutes, Aemond now lets you know that his family has already passed through the security gate that leads into the private neighborhood.

Knowing that fills you with nerves again, but Aenar's babbling as he hands you his currently favorite toys distracts you a bit.

"Are you okay?"

Aemond asks you from where he sits, watching you intently and noticing the tension all over your face and body, while you try to look completely calm and relaxed.

"Yeah, yeah, just... a little nervous," you say trying to place a genuine smile on your face as you distract yourself by touching Aenar's toys, "Who exactly is coming? Other than your mother and siblings," you can't help but ask.

"My grandfather."

You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you more, but he doesn't.

"And that's everyone?"

"Well, Rhaenyra said my nephews wanted to come too, my uncle Daemon with his daughters too but I asked them to wait a little longer," he explains to you slightly concerned, "I didn't want you to feel nervous and overwhelmed if my whole family invaded your house. And Aenar sure would have felt scared too."

You bite the inside of your cheek and he rises from the couch to walk over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry, okay? It's going to be fine. They're excited to meet you and Aenar."

You release a long breath through your nose, placing one of your hands on top of his, feeling your shoulders especially start to feel less tense.

"Yes... thank you," you tell him with gratitude in your gaze, appreciating his support.

And then the doorbell rings.

Aemond gives you one last reassuring glance, assuring you that everything will be fine, then turns and heads for the door to greet them, as you rise from the couch and take Aenar in your arms.

The tension in your shoulders gradually dissolves as you hold your baby in your arms, replaced by a sense of calm, as you watch the front door intently and finish mentally preparing yourself.

Aemond opens the door gently with a warm smile on his lips and the first to enter is his mother, Alicent Hightower, in a beautiful, elegant green dress, followed by who you assume is Otto Hightower, his grandfather.

His mother wraps her arms around him and leaves a loving kiss on his cheek which Aemond reciprocates, as he also greets his grandfather, who watches the entire interior of the house with an inspecting gaze.

Behind Otto enters Rhaenyra, who embraces Aemond.

"Thank you for coming," Aemond says to her, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course," she smiles at him, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as well before pulling away from him.

"You guys too, thank you," she says to Aegon and the rest of her brothers, "Come on in."

Both brothers, Aegon and Daeron, embrace him, speaking words of assurance, leaving Helaena at last, who throws herself into his arms with obvious emotion, smiling with joy and longing, as Aemond leaves a kiss in her hair.

Then Aemond closes the door and before heading towards you, who are still standing very still near the couch with Aenar in his arms, his whole family finally notices you and especially the child in your arms.

"Thank you for coming, all of you," Aemond repeats as he turns to you, "Let me introduce you to Y/N," he points to you, "She works on the same recording set I am currently working on as well."

You put on the best friendly and kind smile possible, as Aemond takes Aenar in his arms so that you can meet his family. And the first to address you is Alicent, with her stunning elegance and a soft smile on a warm face.

"Nice to finally meet you, my dear. My son has spoken so much about you."

The tension almost completely leaves your body, feeling grateful and relieved by the welcoming tone of her voice, evaporating your fear about how everyone, especially her, would treat you.

"The pleasure is mine. I'm happy you're here."

You reach out your hand to her and, pleased, she takes it. But she takes you by surprise when she pulls you closer to her and wraps you in a gentle embrace, definitely not expecting that.

You freeze for a moment, then, a little hesitantly, return her embrace, grateful for the affectionate welcome. And when you both part, she has a smile that denotes sincerity and cordiality, then points you to Aemond's grandfather behind her.

"This is my father, Otto," Alicent introduces you as he watches you with an appraising expression, "He has also heard much about you and was very pleased to come here."

And though his look is somewhat... intimidating, you don't let that invade your nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hightower," you tell him in a soft, polite voice, extending your hand to shake with his as well.

"The pleasure is mine, Y/N," he replies in a low, polite voice, shaking your hand briefly.

"And this is Rhaenyra," Alicent points you to the woman who is just as refined as she is and shares Aemond's same characteristic of silver hair, as do the rest of his siblings.

She smiles towards you and gracefully approaches, then embraces you in greeting mode, as does Alicent.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she tells you cheerfully, "Aemond told me so much about you and of course your little one," she tells you as she gives Aenar a loving look.

"The pleasure is all mine. Aemond also spoke a lot about you and was very excited to meet you," you tell her, as she holds your hands in a gentle grip.

"Well here we are," she tells you without wiping away her smile, then looks behind her, turning her attention to the rest of Aemond's siblings, "Oh and they are my siblings," she gestures you towards Aegon, Daeron and Helaena, who have friendly glances in your direction.

Aegon steps forward first, extending his hand.

"I am Aegon. I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed with so many silverheads invading your home."

"No, no, not at all," you laugh softly, taking his hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Aegon."

Daeron is next, greeting you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Daeron. Aemond told us a lot about you and Aenar."

"Pleasure to meet you, Daeron," you say, noting the sincere camaraderie emanating from both brothers.

And finally, Helaena gives a few towards you, with an expression of pure excitement on her face and hugs you effusively.

"At last we meet!" she exclaims happily, "I was so excited to see you."

"Oh," you respond to her hug also a little surprised and with gratitude, "It's nice to meet you. Aemond has also told me a lot about you.".

"Good things, I hope," she says with a smile, pulling away from you.

And gosh, you can just see how much her sisters and brothers resemble Aemond. Their beauties are otherworldly and even Alicent is truly beautiful, as much as Rhaenyra is.

"And this..." begins to announce Aemond with Aenar in his arms and a radiant smile lighting up his face as he approaches the center of the living room, where his entire family watches him intently, "This is our son, Aenar," he says with pride in his voice, finally introducing his son.

Everyone's gaze focuses on the baby in Aemond's arms, who oblivious to the situation, watches them back with his huge bright blue eyes curious and expectant, while you place a small smile, anticipating the magical meeting of your little one with the rest of his family.

Helaena, visibly moved, can't hold back tears and tries to calm herself, with happiness, longing and nostalgia in her eyes. Aegon smiles with pride and Rhaenyra with adoration.

And meanwhile, Daeron, Otto and Alicent barely finish processing the reality of having Aenar in front of them.

Until Alicent steps forward gently, his eyes and gaze shining with curiosity, slight surprise, longing and adoration as he watches the little one, his newly presented grandson.

"Is that my grandson?" she murmurs in disbelief with tears beginning to form in her eyes and a hand on her chest.

Aemond, with a warm smile, nods at the question.

"Yes, Mom," he gently observes her and seeing her condition, looks at her with complete understanding, "Do you want to hold him?" he offers, carefully extending Aenar to her, sharing in the joy of her holding her grandson.

Alicent, tears streaming down her cheeks and visibly moved, nods in a touched nod with her gaze reflecting all her emotions, joy and awe.

She takes another step forward and reaches out her arms, where Aemond carefully places Aenar in her arms, who now watches him adoringly and with a mixture of happiness and emotion reflected in her gaze.

Alicent can't help but let out a couple more tears as Aenar babbles and watches her with great wonder, moving his small hands to her brown hair, starting to play with her curls, making her laugh softly in the midst of her tears and all the emotions she feels.

Aemond watches his mother tenderly as she enjoys her first encounter with her grandson, while you can't help but feel moved as well and wipe away a few tears that have escaped your eyes, watching the moment with emotion and nostalgia.

"My little Aenar," Alicent whispers, tenderly kissing his forehead, cradling him in her arms.

Aemond, still smiling and holding back his tears, diverts his gaze to you and you watch him back, where you both share a small smile and a silent complicity, both feeling the same way and recognizing the happiness this moment has brought to your lives.

And then Helaena approaches together with Daeron towards her mother, to watch Aenar and share the joy of the moment.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comments Helaena, smiling, as Daeron watches him with a small smile of adoration and strokes his silver hair tenderly.

"Absolutely beautiful," whispers Alicent, her eyes shining with tenderness, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"He's lovely," Rhaenyra comments with her soft little smile.

And then Alicent lifts his gaze to Aemond.

"And he looks exactly like you, darling," she tells him tenderly, recognizing the familiar features on Aenar's face and creating a moment full of emotion and family connection.

Aemond, touched and grateful, smiles at his mother's words.

"I think he has a little bit of both," Aemond replies, sharing a proud look with you.

Aenar physically by hair and eyes resembles Aemond, but some features of his face he definitely inherited from you and you can't help but smile in his direction.

And then, within the next few minutes, the whole family continues to make affectionate moments with Aenar. Helaena being the most excited is the one who now holds Aenar tenderly in her arms, leaving a couple of loving kisses on her cheek, while Rhaenyra approaches her to observe Aenar with a motherly gaze.

The imposing figure of Otto Hightower stands watching with satisfaction the scene unfolding in front of him, especially as he sees the happiness and excitement of Alicent and his grandchildren.

He doesn't say much, but his presence exudes a sense of quiet approval and though he doesn't show it, he honestly feels proud of Aemond, this reunion of his family and the arrival of a new member to it.

As Aegon approaches towards Aemond with a friendly, warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder where he shares his gesture of brotherhood and pride.

"Congratulations, brother," he tells him sincerely, "He is beautiful and a mini version of you."

Aemond nods gratefully, the smile on his lips and places one of his hands on top of his.

"Thank you, brother. I appreciate it."

Now it is Daeron who takes Aenar in his arms and carries him to his play area, followed by Helaena, Rhaenyra, Alicent and you.

Helaena also takes a seat on the carpet with Alicent and the three of them start playing with him, who shows his enthusiasm and fills the living room with his giggles, melting the hearts of everyone present.

The atmosphere definitely becomes livelier and warmer, transforming into a special moment for everyone, where both you and Aenar feel completely comfortable and happy.

And as a few long minutes pass, Aemond watches all the interaction, happy and completely pleased, seeing how you converse with Rhaenyra and the rest of his family is totally entertained by Aenar.

Even his mother asks to have her picture taken with him and slowly begins to fill a new photo album of her grandson on her phone reel, completely enchanted with him.

Such a sight and such a moment couldn't make him happier, being a moment he needed so much and couldn't be more proud of. And how could he not?

His watching his son integrate into his family. And you are definitely getting along great with all of them.

Aegon stands by his side, sharing the gesture of complicity as they watch Helaena and Daeron make sounds with Aenar's toys that make him laugh and squeal with happiness.

Absolutely beautiful.

"So..." Aegon begins to say beside him, catching his attention, "You're going to show him to the world?"

He watches him intently, as Aemond holds his gaze for a second to look back at Aenar with an affectionate gaze, smiling softly.

"That's what Y/N would have wanted at first, when she got pregnant," he says softly, remembering those painful moments, "But no, at least not yet," he replies, turning his gaze back to his brother, "We talk and want to give him a normal childhood as much as possible."

Aegon nods with understanding, listening to him with full attention, then lets out a sigh, watching Aenar.

"The world is going to go mad when they find out, little brother," he says with an amused smile.

"I don't care," he says with a shrug, "All I care about is him."

Aegon smiles warmly again, acknowledging Aemond's priority as a father and he couldn't be prouder of him. He may be the older brother but Aemond...he's the one who matured first, always cleaning up his shit and making sure everyone was okay.

And even though when Aemond told them about this, about you and Aenar, it turned out to be a complete disaster, Aegon is glad that right now his family is responding in this way, loving you and Aenar.

"And what happened to Criston?"

He decides to ask you, curious and attentive, as Aemond takes a moment and exhales deeply, he too being a person who brings back horrible memories of the past.

"I fired him," he replies with a disinterested wave of his hand, "And his entire team too," he adds, "That's what I should have done in the beginning with him."

"And he threatened you?"

Aemond lets out an amused smile, remembering those days as well.

"Yes but I hired a lawyer and they made him sign a confidentiality sheet," he explains, "He couldn't do anything against that."

Aegon nods, pleased to hear those words, as you both turn your gaze back to the family, where Aenar's laughter still echoes throughout the living room, Aemond smiling lovingly as he watches his mother assail him with soft kisses.

Your soft laughter catches your attention as well, watching you with almost the same adoration and love as he watches Aenar, watching you converse with Rhaenyra where you both let out soft giggles at whatever it is you are talking about.

And he can't help but watch you extra longingly, wistfully, happily and longingly, loving to see the smile on your lips and the look of joy you have, his perfect and beautiful Y/N.

He honestly doesn't know what would have become of him if he had never seen you again. He'll probably still be sunk in his misery, regretful and trapped. But with each passing day he thanks the Gods for this, again and again, this second chance.

And Aegon doesn't take this unnoticed, the way his brother is looking at you.

"You really fucked things up with her, didn't you?"

His words break the spell he was under and he bites his lips, averting his gaze from you, beginning to feel ashamed and also with that guilt simmering in his chest.

"Yeah," he replies in a low murmur.

"You still love her."

Aegon tells him watching him intently with a complicity and understanding, not asking any questions, as he is making a statement, affirming it.

And Aemond again speaks the truth, neither denying it nor hiding it.

"Never stop doing so."

Aegon lets out a long breath, honestly feeling bad for him, to place his hand on his shoulder again.

"Brother, we all make mistakes," he tells him softly, "People fuck up and fuck up badly. I'm sure you get that from a person like me," he points to himself, still speaking in a serious tone, "And the important thing is to learn from them and move on. And I'm sure she's seen that in you."

"No, Aegon," he says softly, shaking his head, "What happened between us was different and... unforgivable," he says with the slight pain in his tone, "This is all happening only for Aenar and his well-being."

"So you don't plan to do anything about it?"

"I don't know," he says regretfully, letting out a sigh, "Things are complicated. And with everything that happened surely Y/N doesn't feel that way about me anymore. Besides what really matters is Aenar and I want to be a good father to him."

"I understand that, brother. But maybe all is not lost and all you need to do is try," he tells him in an encouraging tone, "Life is unpredictable, you know? And who knows... maybe Y/N still has feelings for you."

Aemond grimaces.

"I don't know, bro. I don't think so."

Aegon decides to say no more, just nods, for after all, he understands the complexity of his situation. And inevitably, though he shouldn't, with the words he has spoken to him, Aemond feels a small glimmer of hope.

Meanwhile the inside of your house continues to fill with laughter and conversation as everyone enjoys family time. And in the middle of it all, Alicent notices you going to the kitchen for a moment, this catching her attention and being the opportunity to talk to you.

So, giving her attention away from her grandson since she arrived, without saying anything to anyone, she discreetly follows you into the kitchen.

As she passes through the frame, she sees you arranging the drinks that Aemond prepared for them on a tray, wanting to offer them. But when Alicent's figure entering the kitchen catches your attention, you immediately turn to her.

"I don't intend to take up too much of your time, my dear," Alicent hastens to speak with a small smile on her lips.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," you nod immediately, "Do you need something?"

"I just want to talk to you," she answers you softly, "And it's nothing bad, I just... want to thank you for welcoming us into your home," she says, showing the sincerity in her look and tone, "I honestly haven't felt this happy in my life in a long time. And meeting Aenar has definitely made me very happy," she pauses a little, "Thank you."

"No, no, you don't have to thank me," you reply, with a soft look, "It's a pleasure to have all of you here. And you have made Aenar very happy too."

"No, I really do thank you," she insists with a soft tone, "Your home is beautiful and definitely an excellent place for Aenar to grow up."

"Oh, thank you," you smile kindly at her, "Actually this house was bought by Aemond. He must have told them or at least you, I suppose."

"Yes, he did," she nods, "He also told us how much you refused at first but I understand you. It must have been a very meaningful but very overwhelming gesture for you."

You nod with understanding, biting your lips.

"Yes," you murmur, "Yes it was. But I only accepted for Aenar," you hasten to clarify, "I didn't do it for my own convenience, whether for money or fame. I accepted for Aenar, so that he could have his father in his life and together give him the best."

"Yes, sweetheart," she advances towards you and takes your hands between her gently, "I know," she assures you, "You don't have to explain anything, everything is more than understandable."

You let out a long breath.

"Thank you," you tell her sincerely.

"It's okay," she smiles softly at you, "And listen, I-I... I really don't want to make you uncomfortable nor do I want to make you feel bad, in fact Aemond asked me not to talk to you about this but..." she looks at you with some tenderness and longing, "I just want to tell you how very brave you are, Y/N."

You shudder at the sweetness of her unexpected words, feeling a warmth run through your chest as a mixture of gratitude and longing flashes across your face, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable.

"I didn't blame you for deciding to run away, no one judges you for it."

She lets you know by telling you in a soft voice and as tactfully as possible.

"As much as I would have loved to have met you sooner, Aemond's decisions were terrible and I can't imagine everything you had to go through on your own," she says with slight shock and sadness, holding your hand tighter, "Your pregnancy, living in a new unfamiliar place and trying to make it on your own."

You bite your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your chest and tears begin to form in your eyes, but you gather your strength and try not to let them fall despite the memories of painful moments.

Her words resonate with genuine understanding and her warm touch brings you a comfort you didn't expect but definitely needed.

"Yes," you whisper, feeling the lump in your throat, "It was very scary and very difficult," you confess, "But Aenar made every sacrifice worth it."

"Of course," she murmurs, with a sympathetic look.

"Oh and... it must have been hard for you too," you say, remembering, "In those days seeing Aemond so sad and desperate must have worried you a lot. It even almost put in danger his career and you had no idea about me and what had happened."

"Yes, that was very scary too," she nods with a sad smile, "We didn't know what had happened, he pushed everyone away, even Helaena and... I couldn't stand to see him like that, but he wouldn't accept our help either," she explains, "But now, just like me, I've never seen Aemond so happy in his life."

Her tone is genuine and you hold her gaze with appreciation and understanding, feeling completely grateful for this pleasant acceptance and welcome by Aemond's family.

And in that moment you can feel, as Alicent does, how your connection grows stronger in your shared understanding of past challenges and new hope.

"You are a strong woman, Y/N. And I also want you to know that regardless of the circumstances between you and Aemond, I want you to know that you are part of our family now and we are here to support you."

You feel a happiness and relief course through your body, grateful for her words and her total understanding, as you nod in her direction.

"Thank you, Alicent."

And Alicent unable to contain herself, wraps you in a hug full of tenderness that you reciprocate, with the atmosphere filling with a sense of mutual acceptance and support.

And from there, the rest of the afternoon is spent sharing laughter and creating special memories.

Aegon plays with Aenar while Daeron and Helaena join in the fun, making your little one laugh with every quip and funny face that Aegon especially makes.

Alicent and Rhaenyra also join in, creating a connection with Aenar and showing him affection, while Aemond and you watch it all sitting together on the couch, each with a smile on your lips.

Until the visit comes to an end and the family says goodbye with expressions of gratitude and affection. Helaena is the one who insists on exchanging numbers to stay in touch, while she along with Alicent and Aegon promise to visit again soon.

It's a bit hard for Alicent to want to let go of Aenar, but eventually she does and then Aemond and you finish picking up and sorting all of Aenar's scattered toys.

Until it's also time for Aemond to leave.

"Thank you for this day. It was amazing and better than I could have hoped for. Even mom loves you more than she ever loved me."

You smile in his direction sincerely, laughing softly.

"It was nothing, Aemond. It was all very nice. Your family was very kind and Aenar had a great time."

"Yes," he murmurs as he watches his little boy adoringly and then turns his gaze back to you, "Still, thank you... for everything."

You see the intent in his gaze, also in his body, the way he fights it, catching your attention and being a bit amused at it, then moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him.

Surprised and definitely not expecting that, Aemond doesn't take long to reciprocate your embrace, a little hesitantly at first but he does, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against him.

A sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eye, feeling that warmth in his body and that almost happiness at the sensation of having you close again.

He had missed it.

The embrace conveys a mutual support and understanding, also a kind of affection that Aemond can't quite decipher.

But honestly at that moment he doesn't mind and allows himself to enjoy and seize every moment of this feeling, knowing that he may not be able to have you again soon in this way, before you both part and he drives to his apartment.

Regular visits from the Aemond family to your home become a pleasant daily moment. Each encounter brings laughter, love and a sense of family unity.

Aenar, with his contagious laughter, becomes the center of attention, further strengthening family bonds.

The bond between Aenar and his relatives grows stronger over time, so his extended family becomes fully involved in his growth and development. Laughter and play fill the halls of your home, creating precious memories.

Eventually you also meet the rest of Aemond's family as well as Aenar, like Daemon Targaryen, who is definitely a bit more intimidating than Otto Hightower. But once Daemon feels confident, he's the coolest guy.

You also meet Aemond's cousins, the twins Baela and Rhaena, Daemon's daughters, who are extremely kind and sweet to you.

And you also meet Rhaenyra's sons, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, where eventually she also introduces you to her youngest children, Aegon and Viserys.

Your relationship with each member of the Targaryen-Hightower family develop into genuine friendships. Helaena, Rhaenyra and Alicent become confidants and allies to Aenar's shared upbringing.

The complicity between the women in the family is supportive and builds a safe and loving environment for Aenar and the rest of the children.

Until, on occasion, you decide to take Aenar to the majestic Targaryen-Hightower mansion. The incredible residence becomes a second home for him, who explores every corner with curiosity and becomes familiar with the new walls.

Aegon, as the older brother he is, becomes his second protective figure. Together they share adventures through the mansion's extensive gardens and enjoy playing with Legos blocks or his plastic carts.

With Helaena, she connects with Aenar through her charm and utterly beautiful aura, always playing with him, carrying him in her arms and telling him fantasy stories with gestures and figures.

And with Daeron, Aenar loves it when he watches his favorite cartoons with him. Also eventually Aenar becomes his weakness, as he always fills him with more toys and always thinks of him to give him everything that makes him happy, even food.

And when Aenar cries, Daeron is the first of the siblings to come to him, slightly concerned and immediately wanting to make him feel good.

Meanwhile, your relationship with Aemond, while not resuming the romance of the past, transforms into a serene, enjoyable and respectful one. Aenar's upbringing becomes the main point of building his future and lacking nothing.

Although memories of the painful past persist, both have learned to cope and accept it, in order to move forward.

And eventually, in a significant moment and one that lasted hours of conversation between Aemond and you, also one that was an arduous process of documentation and much waiting, a culmination of a stage of your life is realized that further solidifies the unique connection between Aenar, Aemond and you.

A recognition that brings with it a clear message of commitment and love for the future of your family. The significant moment when Aemond asks for your permission to legally recognize his child and you allow him to do so.

It was not something you had to think about too much, as Aemond has shown you so much and the emotion in his eyes through his tears when you said yes, only further confirmed the fact that you were not making a wrong decision.

And everyone in the family celebrates when Aemond's last name is added to your son's name and he is finally named Aenar Targaryen.

general taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x y/n #modern hotd #modern au #modern aemond

437 notes · View notes

books · 5 months

Text

Writer Spotlight: Jamie Beck

Jamie Beck is a photographer residing in Provence, France. Her Tumblr blog, From Me To You, became immensely successful shortly after launching in 2009. Soon after, Jamie, along with her partner Kevin Burg, pioneered the use of Cinemagraphs in creative storytelling for brands. Since then, she has produced marketing and advertising campaigns for companies like Google, Samsung, Netflix, Disney, Microsoft, Nike, Volvo, and MTV, and was included in Adweek Magazine’s “Creative 100” among the industry’s top Visual Artists. In 2022, she released her first book, An American in Provence, which became a NYT Bestseller and Amazon #1 book in multiple categories, and featured in publications such as Vogue, goop, Who What Wear, and Forbes. Flowers of Provence is Jamie’s second book.

Can you tell us about how The Flowers of Provence came to be?

I refer to Provence often as ‘The Garden of Eden’ for her harmonious seasons that bring an ever-changing floral bounty through the landscape. My greatest joy in life is telling her story of flowers through photography so that we may all enjoy them, their beauty, their symbolism, and their contribution to the harmony of this land just a bit longer.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do your photography and writing work together? Do you write as part of your practice?

I constantly write small notations, which usually occur when I am alone in nature with the intention of creating a photograph or in my studio working alone on a still life. I write as I think in my head, so I have made it a very strict practice that when a thought or idea comes up, I stop and quickly write the text in the notes app on my phone or in a pocket journal I keep with me most of the time. If I don’t stop and write it down at that moment, I find it is gone forever. It is also the same practice for shooting flowers, especially in a place as seasonal as Provence. If I see something, I must capture it right away because it could be gone tomorrow.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

You got your start in commercial photography. What’s something you learned in those fields that has served you well in your current creative direction?

I think my understanding of bridging art and commerce came from my commercial photography background. I can make beautiful photographs of flowers all day long, but how to make a living off your art is a completely different skill that I am fortunate enough to have learned by working with so many different creative brands and products in the past.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

Do you remember your first photograph?

Absolutely! I was 13 years old. My mother gave me her old Pentax 35mm film camera to play with. When I looked through the viewfinder, it was as if the imaginary world in my head could finally come to life! I gave my best friend a makeover, put her in an evening gown in the backyard of my parents’ house in Texas, and made my first photograph, which I thought was so glamorous! So Vogue!

You situate your photographic work with an introduction that charts the seasons in Provence through flowers. Are there any authors from the fields of nature writing and writing place that inspire you?

I absolutely adore Monty Don! His writing, his shoes, and his ease with nature and flowers—that’s a world in which I want to live. I also love Floret Flowers, especially on social media, as a way to learn the science behind flowers and how to grow them.

How did you decide on the order of the images within The Flowers of Provence?

Something I didn’t anticipate with a book deal is that I would actually be the one doing the layouts! I assumed I would hand over a folder of images, and an art director would decide the order. At first, it was overwhelming to sort through it all because the work is so personal, and I’m so visual. But in the end, it had to be me. It had to be my story and flow to be truly authentic. I tried to move through the seasons and colors of the landscape in a harmonious way that felt a bit magical, just as discovering Provence has felt to me.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

How do you practice self-care when juggling work and life commitments alongside the creative process?

The creative process is typically a result that comes out of taking time for self-care. I get some of my best ideas for photographic projects or writing when I am in a bath or shower or go for a long (and restorative) walk in nature. Doing things for myself, such as how I dress or do my hair and makeup, is another form of creative expression that is satisfying.

What’s a place or motif you’d like to photograph that you haven’t had a chance to yet?

I am really interested in discovering more formal gardens in France. I like the idea of garden portraiture, trying to really capture the essence and spirit of places where man and nature intertwine.

Which artists do you return to for inspiration?

I’m absolutely obsessed with Édouard Manet—his color pallet and subject matter.

What are three things you can’t live without as an artist?

My camera, the French light, and flowers, of course.

What’s your favorite flower to photograph, and why?

I love roses. They remind me of my grandmother, who always grew roses and was my first teacher of nature. The perfume of roses and the vast variety of colors, names, and styles all make me totally crazy. I just love them. They simply bring me joy the same way seeing a rainbow in the sky does.

(Photograph: Jamie Beck)

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syoddeye · 4 months

Text

the meeting

ceo!price x reader / ~3k words

Folks seemed to like the first installment of this maybe-series, so I cooked up a second part in between drafts of the next chapter of For the Record (shameless plug). Not sure if this will be a whole thing or a series of vignettes. Enjoy!

CW: red flags everywhere, power imbalance, alcohol (mentioned)

You lay low after the company Christmas party and losing the drama wager to Jordan. Heads down, nose to the grindstone, and so forth. You never found the courage to respond to Mr. Price's direct message over the holidays. The shock from receiving a response at all kept you up at night. The message was supposed to get lost in his notifications, buried beneath the hundreds of messages he supposedly got a day. And he had not only replied, he insinuated he wanted to grab drinks. You checked it a hundred times.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

You could be reading into it. Flattering yourself. Profile photos were required on the chat app to help put faces to names, so he could have recognized you as the punch girl from the open bar. Most likely, he was making a joke and humoring an underling.

Whatever the reason, his simple reply plagues you well into the new year.

The first quarter is always hectic for The 141 Group. New regulations go into effect, and projects and initiatives kick off, setting the year's foundation. Since your boss Kyle is VP of Finance, it's even busier for him with budget meeting check-ins, payroll reports, and financial policy updates. And if his life is busy, your life is busy because his success is your success.

"Need you to bump everything I have today after three to tomorrow," He murmurs when you collect a stack of documents to copy.

"This is the second time you'll have pushed the meeting with technology directors," You remind him, but make a note anyway. "They'll complain to Mr. MacTavish."

Kyle glances up. "Let them. He's clearing his schedule this afternoon, too."

"Oh?"

"Big man's bringing the C-Suite and a few of us lucky VPs in for a meeting."

A practiced EA, you keep the instant surge of dread from reaching your face. It isn't strange for Kyle, though technically a subordinate to the CFO, to attend such meetings. Mr. Price frequently pulls him into special projects. You simply hoped to avoid the 'big man' for as long as possible. On the bright side, when Kyle never reprimanded you for flippantly messaging the CEO upon return from holiday, you assumed Mr. Price never said anything. Hopefully, he forgot about your message altogether.

"Need me for notes?" You ask, hovering in the doorway to his office.

"Please. Something tells me it'll be tense." Interesting.

With a nod, you tuck the folder under an arm and pat the doorframe. "Got it. Lunch'll be here soon. I ordered Indian and Thai. Whatever you don't want, I'll eat."

"You're a lifesaver."

"I know."

Conference Room Bravo isn't the biggest meeting space in the building, but everybody knows it's Mr. Price's preference. With an unobstructed view of the water and natural light, you like it, too. Especially since the small group of assistants who attend the more critical meetings sits on a long bench built into an alcove in the wall with a good view of the windows.

You and five other EAs ensure every seat at the main table is set with the appropriate accoutrements. Tea and coffee are on standby. With a three-hour window allocated, everyone will need a spot of caffeine at some point. Fifteen minutes before the scheduled start, you chat and make personal preparations.

"Did MacTavish seem stressed about this?" You ask Jordan as she takes the seat next to you.

She shakes her head. "No. You know him, though. It takes a bit to work him up."

"What about Laswell?" You lean forward and look down the bench at Oliver, the Chief Information Officer's right hand.

The younger man looks up from his laptop. "Same as Mr. MacTavish, kind of. Hard to tell, but she didn't take a smoke break, so…"

"Right."

The conversation drifts to weekend plans until Lucy, the newest EA to Mr. Shepherd, pipes up.

"Isn't it strange Mr. Price doesn't have a permanent assistant?"

It's a fair question for a new person. Since you started at The 141 Group, the desk outside Mr. Price's office has functioned as a revolving door. Guiltily, you stopped trying to learn their names about ten temps in, and since then, it's a coin flip if anyone's there at all. The general rule is if you have something to deliver to Mr. Price, you leave it on the empty desk.

"Nah, nobody's good enough," Jordan answers. "MacTavish once told me Price is a workaholic with impossibly high standards. Not a good combination for an assistant."

Oliver agrees. "Laswell said as much, too. Apparently, at his place, he has a whole recreation of his office and gets right back to work when he gets home. And, his only staff are the bodyguards."

You would feel sad about that if Mr. Price wasn't a gazillionaire. An older man, hunching over a computer, completely alone in his home…when he could certainly afford staff and delegate.

Still, if he kept himself so busy, it made the fact he responded to your DM quite interesting.

The conversation dies when the attendees trickle in.

Kyle arrives with Mr. MacTavish, the latter of whom flashes a grin at Jordan and you. Close behind is the hulking mountain of a CSO, Mr. Riley, who, as usual, wears a black surgical mask. (The rumors around that accessory are practically 141 Group lore.) Other members of the C-Suite file in and Mr. Price arrives last, followed by his guards who post up at the door. He shuts the door behind him, the click silencing the room.

Your eyes glue themselves to the computer in your lap. Jordan elbows you a little, obviously enjoying the lingering effects of her wager.

As Mr. Price sits down, you finally steal a glance. He's wearing the hell out of a charcoal suit with a blue tie that makes his eyes pop, even across the room. His expression is stern, borderline grim, and thankfully, like everybody else at the main table, doesn't even glance in your direction. He's straight to the point. "Thank you all for making time in your schedules on short notice. Let's get started, shall we?"

An hour and a half in, Price calls for a break. As the most senior EA on the bench, you lovingly pass on refreshment duty to Lucy and Desmond, the most junior. You follow Kyle to the hall.

"Need anything?" You ask when you're a reasonable distance down from the conference room.

"Do you think you can clean up the notes and send them to me by nine tonight?"

Your brows raise. Rarely does the man ask you to work late. He usually doesn't need to, as you pride yourself on efficiency. "Of course. I'll make a physical copy, too. What's your read on it, by the way?"

Kyle gives a tired smile. "You aren't paying attention, are you."

"I take down everything I hear to ensure you have impeccable notes. Listening gets in the way of that," You offer a grin, then glance down at his tie. Crooked. You fix it without thinking and chat more about his schedule tomorrow. A few people pass by in the hallway to use the restroom or stretch their legs, but you don't pay them mind.

"Mr. Garrick?" You both turn to see Jordan's head sticking out of the door. "They're resuming."

Kyle sighs quietly and starts back toward the conference room. You follow.

Settling back into your seat on the bench, you feel eyes on you, but when you look around, there's nothing. Weird.

The meeting concludes on the dot at six. The attendees leave first, as do the rest of the assistants when you volunteer to clean up. Jordan waves goodbye when Mr. MacTavish departs alongside Mr. Riley. You sigh in relief when Price walks out with Shepherd and Laswell, leaving you and Kyle. Your boss swipes through his phone as you collect the trash and dishes, leaving everything for janitorial.

"Do you need a ride?" Kyle asks when you collect your laptop. "I'm heading your way."

"No, I think I'll finish the notes here, wait for rush hour to die down."

Kyle walks out with you and frowns. "If you stay past eight, please text. I'll have a car come back for you."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Kyle is merely protective. "I'll take the train or call a rideshare myself."

He pushes the matter when you return to your corner of the executive floor, but you don't give in. You plan to stop for food on the way home and aren't keen to make his driver wait. When he finally leaves, you find yourself alone on the floor. Most folks leave at five, so everyone else cleared out when the meeting ended at six.

You clean, format, and summarize the meeting notes in an hour and a half. Due to Kyle's earlier comment, you make an effort to read into business. As far as you can tell, it's another big new project with lots of money on the table. The name of a new contractor company for extra hands mildly raises your interest. The usual choice, Chimera Company, must be busy. Other than that, everything's a slog to read. You trust that if something's important and need-to-know, Kyle will explain.

You email Kyle the notes a few minutes shy of eight and send them to the printer. Languidly stretching as you go, you walk to the copy room. At this hour, most overhead lights are on a timer and won't turn back on until morning to conserve energy. So, it's natural your eyes flick to Mr. Price's office at the end of the long hallway. There's a sliver of light beneath the door, beckoning like a golden gate. Turning into the darkened copy room, picturing Mr. Price at his desk distracts enough you don't realize you're not alone until a low, growling curse cuts through the silence.

Hunching over the copier is none other than Mr. Price himself. The low light glints off a silver watch band, encouraging the eye to a pair of thick forearms exposed by rolled shirt sleeves. You get a whole second of the uninterrupted sight before he notices.

A silent alarm goes off, and you're hopeful the lack of light saves you: Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me. Please–

Mr. Price does not move, and his focus returns to the copier. "Didn't realize anyone else worked this late."

You're unsure if you're supposed to respond, but you need those notes. "I usually don't. I was finishing up…Is there–Is there something I can help with?"

He answers when you tiptoe closer. "Everything's coming out with streaks," He grumbles, fiddling with random panel doors that open into the machine's guts.

This is not your first battle with the cursed thing. "I can fix that."

"Can you, now." Price mutters, barely audible.

You swallow. You might be several pay levels lower, but you aren't a pushover. "Mr. Price, please let me try."

Again, he delays, but after an exasperated sigh, he concedes and slams a panel door shut.

After he steps back, you examine the failed jobs resting on the tray, then address the angry, blinking digital display. A few screens and taps later, you trigger the self-cleaning process and the machine whirs to life.

"All fixed?" Price asks, reminding you he's but a few steps behind you.

"We'll see," You move a short distance away, afraid if you stand any closer, it'll be enough for him to remember who you are and your dumb message. "It's self-cleaning. It will take two, three minutes, then produce a test print."

Price hums in acknowledgment, and then the glow of his phone screen illuminates his profile. You glance out of your periphery, almost relieved to see the steely expression on his face. Seems he really is a workaholic, taking advantage of any spare moment.

You lean against the supply cabinets and cross your feet at the ankles. You left your phone at your desk, so you settle for watching the copier hopefully fix itself.

Then, to your utter horror, Price says your name.

You look up without thinking.

"Thought I recognized you." He holds up his phone, and there you are, your profile picture in the workplace chat app.

You are going to murder Jordan. But first, you need to apologize.

"Mr. Price, I am so–"

Price cuts you off. "You're Kyle Garrick's assistant, yeah?"

Relief washes over you. Your message is forgotten. Definitely. All you are is an assistant. "Yes, sir."

With a hum, he pockets his phone, then steps forward to better see you. A hand plants itself on the counter, mere centimeters away. "You were at the meeting earlier."

"Yes, sir."

"Would explain the swift fix," He muses, and his gaze drags down you in a more than perfunctory look before meeting yours once more. "Normally, I'd use the copier in my office, but it's due for maintenance. Seems this one is, too."

He has his own copier? It would explain why I've never seen him in here, making his own copies since he apparently hates help.

"Guess so," You lick your lower lip, stomach flipping with nerves with how close Price stands. Between the proximity and the near darkness, it's all you can do to keep your imagination in check.

A cheerful beeping from the copier saves you. Price lingers a moment more, then returns to the printing tray as the machine spits out a test page.

Price chuckles, which you take to mean the issue is fixed. He restarts the delayed jobs. "Well done, love."

"It's nothing," You say quietly, rooted to where you lean.

A minute passes, and Price collects the first completed stack of papers. His brow furrows. "Think these are yours."

You finally push off the cabinets and venture closer, reaching for the notes. Only, he does not hand them over.

"Forgot Gaz prefers hard copies," Price murmurs.

Gaz?

"This is the kind of work I wish I had received from my past assistants."

If it was not the CEO speaking, you would be the defender of the voiceless, the fired employees of 141 past. If the man's gone through as many assistants as you think he has, he's the problem.

"You like working for Garrick?"

It feels like a trick question. From the outside, it appears he and Kyle like each other. For all of Price's talks on 'openness' and 'camaraderie,' he has his favorites, and your boss is one of them. Though that could be an act, and Price is actually looking for some kind of blemish on Kyle's record. Either way, you can be honest because you genuinely like Kyle.

"Mr. Garrick is a joy to work with." Anxiety flushes half of the English language and all creativity out of your brain.

Price huffs in amusement. "A joy to work with," He repeats. "That's all? You appeared quite friendly during the break."

The comment gives you pause, and you shove back through the day's events. The meeting, the break – was it because you simply straightened Kyle's tie? It's a harmless gesture, you think. No one's ever batted an eye before. You can't help but feel a little affronted. "That's because we are friends, sir. Kind of happens when you work for someone for nearly five years."

Price lifts the notes in a placating manner, then out to you. "No harm meant. It's nice to see, is all. I understand we struggle with retention."

An understatement for him. Your imaginary hackles lower. "We work well together."

Price smiles. "Clearly. And five years, eh? Should get something for that, I think."

Inwardly, you cringe. The last thing you need is another branded mug, t-shirt, or keychain. "That isn't necessary, sir."

"Nonsense. We've got to reward loyalty."

You stiffly nod, figuring it's worthless to protest. It makes sense why he's in charge. He's a steamroller when it comes to what he wants.

"Do you have somewhere to be? Someone waiting for you?"

In this context, a darkened office, alone with a man with the power to make or break your career, it's a borderline sinister question. At least, it should be, yet instead, all you feel is a brief thrill.

"No, sir."

"Then, how about that drink?"

Oh, god. "'That drink'?" You ask dumbly. You know exactly what he means.

He chuckles and sets his gaze on you again. It's heavy, somehow both a blanket around the shoulders and a cinder block to the chest.

"While you are a capable woman, I doubt achievin' world peace is within your power. But a drink? Think you can fit me into your schedule this evening?"

You will kill Jordan for the bet. Then Kyle will kill you for losing it. But do you really have a choice?

"Yes, sir."

"Please, after hours, call me John."

Mr. Price's–John's bodyguards do not seem fazed when you meet them at the elevators. You watch John whisper something into the taller one's ear on the ride down, and the man hails a cab. Meanwhile, John ushers you out to a waiting town car, and the shorter guard takes the passenger seat.

When he takes the seat beside you, shuts the door, and drapes a big arm over the back of the seats, you think to fake an illness. A forgotten appointment. Something. Then he gives you another grin, a note of triumph in it, and the thoughts of escape vanish.

Your salary affords you nice things like hardcover books, daily coffees, and frequent takeaway. And until ten seconds ago, you could count stylish yet comfortable office attire among said things. Yet, walking through the awning-covered entrance to an unmarked bar, you lose that delusion quickly. The bar's host lights up at the sight of Mr. Price, then openly examines you and the pencil skirt you thought was expensive.

"Welcome back, Mr. Price. Your usual table, I presume? Is this lovely creature your date?"

"Yes, and yes."

A firm, warm hand at the small of your back flexes. It's a silent suggestion: do not correct him. You don't.

A cocktail later, that same hand lands on your knee beneath the table.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

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light-yaers · 8 months

Text

Take Care: Chapter Eleven

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes

A/N: it's been over a month i have no excuse other than MY BRAIN HURTS and I AM SO TIRED but i am so glad to be out of this rut. get ready for more, and get excited for this incredibly roy centric chapter

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter Eleven

A month or so later you sat, rigid and tense, in the green room at Sky Studios. Up until then, the fanciest or most intense place you’d ever visited was that of AFC Richmond, the Dogtrack, but these studios kicked Nelson Road out of the fucking stadium. The only way you could describe it was sterile. Like a hospital, or some morbid place where people came to sit and be quiet, except you weren’t here for either of those things.

You were here to see Roy, and that was the most intense part of it all.

In the green room was a screen with a live relay from the stage, where you saw Roy, Jeff and Chris sitting at their familiar, unusually large, commentary table. They were taping some bits for an upcoming episode of Soccer Saturday, the parts where they weren’t required to be there live and in person.

The breath hitched in your throat whenever Roy appeared on screen. It was still entirely new and off-putting, yet the internet had blown up when they’d seen the ex-Captain on the show. Finally, Roy Kent was back in the football world. Not playing, or coaching, but commentating. It was a good alternative, and he rocked it during the show, even despite his way with words and his… not entirely enthused demeanour. To anyone that didn’t know Roy, they’d probably think him crude and rude and blunt, all the ways he’d been described in the past in the press. To those that knew Roy inside and out, watching him on TV was like a breath of fresh air. Those closest to him had been saying the same thing for years– I could listen to you talk for hours and not get bored.

You were no different, and in fact, had known Roy for over a year now. It was crazy how time flies, wasn’t it?

When he’d texted you an invite to the studios, you’d said yes immediately. Your time with Roy was short enough already, but now that he’d landed the gig his time was being soaked up more and more. You found yourself now, sitting at your desk at Pluto Press, just thinking about when you’d next see him. Any opportunity that arose you took by the fucking balls, and that’s exactly what went down when he’d asked you to the studios.

Right guys, that’s a wrap for today. See you at the weekend.

The show director said over the live screen, and you watched intently as Roy and his co-hosts had their microphone packs removed. The sound switched off immediately, but Chris approached Roy and stuck out his hand. The two legends shook hands quickly, and you noticed the smallest of smiles appear on Roy’s face as they pulled away.

It made you smile back at them, bashfully, to yourself. There was something warming about seeing Roy interact with others like this. It was rare to catch him in a good mood at any of his prior jobs– which you knew very well from working alongside him at the Dogtrack– but seeing him enjoy his time, become buddy-buddy with Chris fucking Kamara, and all the rest made you exceptionally happy.

You were proud of his successes, and understood his plunders. You wanted to feel that he felt the same about you in return, but you’d started this thing where you tried not to think about him like that. Assumptively, or overly-affectionately, or anything that reminded your heart of how you really felt about the man on the screen before you. It was just like you’d said to Keeley and Rebecca– you would never mention it, never tell him, and you were okay with that.

You were okay with that.

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked.

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly.

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said.

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage.

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder.

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.”

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more.

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry.

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully.

This was just it– those little moments where you’d happily melt into a puddle on the ground beneath him, but you couldn’t.

You coughed, laughing awkwardly, before you gently poked him in the chest. “You too,” you said, trying to keep things as playful as possible. Roy perked his brow at you questioningly, amused, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched you panic subtly as you continued around the set, until you’d rounded the desk to his chair.

“May I?” you asked.

Roy bowed at you smally. “Be my fucking guest.”

You sat down in his chair slowly, and leaned your elbows on the desk before you. You shuffled your shoulders, and puffed out your chest. “Oh, I could get used to this,” you said, feeling powerful. Roy growled at you gently. “Come on, sit in Jeff’s chair.”

If Roy wanted to object in any way, he didn’t. He obediently made his way around the desk and sat in Jeff Stelling’s chair, all the while looking at you like you were gold. You sucked in a deep breath and cleared your throat. “So, Jeff– what did you make of AFC Richmond’s last game? When will these fucking tied games end, hm?” you said, putting on your most gravelly voice possible in an attempt to imitate Roy.

He sighed, but he still didn’t object. A small smile was still curled on his lips, and it made your gut coil. He leaned forward, and adopted Jeff’s stance. “Well, Roy,” he started, taking on a much cheerier voice than his own. It was off-putting. “Richmond has been hit hard, but not as hard as their mascot Earl was a few months ago. Poor fuck–” He coughed, and recomposed himself. “Poor dog.”

“Well fucking said, Jeff,” you replied, but burst into giggles as soon as you did. “What do you reckon is the reason for their tie records on top of it, though? And what about that prick, Jamie fucking Tartt, sculking around the club after his stint in the reality TV game?”

Roy furrowed his brows at you quizzically. “Jamie fucking Tartt is trying to get signed to Richmond again?” he said, his normal voice cutting through.

You waved him off. “I’ll tell you later. Keep going,” you said quickly, bringing it back to the game.

Roy growled, and went back to his Jeff impression. “Well, it could be a number of things, Roy.” You smiled to yourself, elated just to be around him again. “Your retirement, for starters, has left the team utterly abandoned and in the dust.”

You perked your brow at him.“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, really–”

“They’re devastated by the loss,” Roy cut you off again, and you burst out a giggle. Roy swallowed away his amusement then, as he met your eye. “That, and the loss of their social placement was definitely a hard pill to swallow.” You froze as the words fell from his mouth. “I– inside sources– have told the press about how hard it’s been after she left. Her fanclub made up of Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Sam Obisanya haven’t been the same since her placement ended.”

You swallowed painfully, as Roy’s gaze stayed stuck on your own for a second too long. Neither of you looked away, but your heart swelled to twice the size beneath your ribcage. This fucking sucked– cutting yourself off from feeling all this– fucking sucked. But, you felt it was necessary. You didn’t want to lose Roy again– couldn’t– and this would ensure he stuck around.

Still, as he looked at you with a softness reserved only for people he truly gave a shit about, you couldn’t help but give in just this once.

You dropped the act, and reverted your voice to your own. “I seem to remember there being more people in the fanclub,” you said. “Who else hasn’t been the same, hm?”

Roy leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. You thought he’d tense up, or lean forward, but you knew that position was a sign that he was truly comfortable. Meanwhile, you were trying to hide the fact your fingers were shaking.

“I can think of one more.” He shrugged. “Want a name?”

“No,” you said instantly, abruptly, taking back everything you’d put out before. You recomposed yourself, and smiled as normally as you could. “I think I already have a good guess.”

Roy opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, before he nodded at you in understanding. It felt like a situation similar to that first night, after the charity ball, when you’d offered another time. Roy could easily count how many times you’d held yourself back from him. He didn’t know what to say to reassure you that this– you and him– was okay. He wasn’t one for being mushy, but he figured there was a reason as to why you hadn’t made it clear yet.

So, he stayed put. He waited, and he wondered if you ever would, and if you never did– then that would be that. It wasn’t worth blurting out his feelings in a, no doubt, blunt and plain way if it meant risking this all. Seeing you, being around you, taking it on the chin everytime you scolded him when he deserved it.

You were one of the only people out there that could tell him to fuck off. He liked it that way.

As the two of you drove home, you stared out the window on the passenger side. Being around Roy always made you feel warm, but since he’d become a pundit, things had felt heavier. Thicker, tenser, like you’d be able to cut the atmosphere between you with a plastic butter knife. Maybe it was due to you setting yourself invisible boundaries, but something still made your stomach flip whenever he indulged.

Innately, you told yourself to shake it off. If things stayed as they were with you both meant nothing would change, but you admitting your feelings to him would. It was still out of the question, but you had to be stronger around him. You sucked in a breath, and it cemented things in your brain. No longer would you crumble at his warm remarks, his soft stares, his playful behaviour. These were just things that Roy did with you, and hell, you enjoyed it platonically just as much as you would romantically– so what did it matter?

Roy pulled up outside your building, and you clicked off your seatbelt. You didn’t get out of the car, however, and placed your hands in your lap instead. “Thanks for–”

“What are you doing next Wednesday?” Roy cut over you. Your brain short circuited.

“Uh– finish work at five, like normal. Why?”

“I’ve got Phoebe that night. We were going to grab a chinese and watch Ice Age. You in?”

You smiled to oblivion. “I’d love to. Why Ice Age though?”

“Because she’s fucking seven, and I’m unashamed to say that film makes me cry every time.”

You scoffed abruptly, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy said seriously. “That baby is still fucking ugly though.” You laughed, and nodded in agreement. Roy tapped the steering wheel, expelling happy energy. He growled in approval. “Fruit Shoot pre drinks are at six, so you better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said, before you opened your door and got out of the car. Roy rolled the window down when you hopped up on the pavement on his side, and stuck his elbow out like a trucker.

“See you later,” he said, though not with his usual hostility and unbothered attitude. This was a see you later that had feeling behind it.

You swallowed bashfully. “See you.”

On Monday, Rebecca met you at Pluto Press. She strolled through the building with purpose, shoes clicking intently on the hardwood floors, until she loomed over your desk fiercely. “I’m here to see the best writer in the building,” she said.

You peered up at her and smiled profusely, before you shot up and gave her a colossal hug. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

“Me too, darling,” she said, before pulling away. She kept her hands on your shoulders for good measure. “Come on. Pasta and wine won’t eat and drink itself.”

You liked getting dinner with Rebecca alone. She was an important figure to you, despite the previous way she’d felt about the club and people like you in general. She twisted her arm around your own as the two of you made your way out of Pluto Press, and you had to admit that you felt confident when in stride next to Rebecca. She was well-known, a prominent businesswoman, a strong person, and you were glad to have her in your life.

Especially, when she had gossip to spill.

“He’s called John. He treats me nice. He’s good looking and intelligent and everything good, but…”

“But?” you questioned, feeling giddy during girl talk.

“Well, after Rupert and all the other bozos I’ve been with, I want to make sure he is everything I think he is.”

“Ah, you want your friends’ approval, is that it?”

Rebecca picked up her wine glass. “Absolutely, I do.” She sipped at the contents, before placing the glass back on the table. “I had an idea of a double date with you and Keeley pretending to be girlfriends.”

You scoffed abruptly. “We wouldn’t even need to pretend that much. I love her and she loves me.”

“Exactly my thoughts! But, Keeley is away in fucking Edinburgh this weekend, so that’s a no go.”

You thought through your options. Who could you bring as a possible fake date to this double date situation if it wasn’t Keeley? You snapped your fingers. “Oh, I know— I could bring Ted!”

Rebecca looked like you’d run over a child with Roy’s Jeep. “Absolutely fucking not.”

You recoiled. “Oh, come on. Who the fuck else then?”

“Just bring Roy!” Rebecca exclaimed. Your cheeks warmed intensely.

“Oh, fuck off,” you spat out, bringing your wine glass to your lips and trying to ignore the way your gut had lurched.

Rebecca leaned towards you, a mischievous smile on her face. “Just imagine it. You and Roy already look and act like a fucking couple sometimes–” You swallowed your wine abruptly.

“No, we do not—”

“Yes, you do!” Rebecca said strongly. “But push that aside for just a moment, and this could be a good experiment.”

You placed your glass down strongly, curiously. “Go on.”

“If he feels for you the way you feel for him, then this is a good way to show it. Might give you both some clarity, because Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t take this back and forth much longer.”

Your defences were on high. “There is no back and forth—”

“Yes, there is! When are you going to grab that fucking hairy man and just kiss him!”

“Rebecca!” you exclaimed. There was subtle anger in both of your voices, but it was drowned out by the extreme hilarity of the entire situation.

Despite your eyes being wide and your brows being perked wildly, both you and Rebecca had small smiles plastered on your faces that only meant one thing— I love you and I love this. She understood you, and understood your concerns and feelings and all the like, but that didn’t stop her from wanting you to get out and emerge from this funk.

“Just… think about it?” she suggested.

You smiled at her warmly. “This is Roy we’re talking about. He probably wouldn’t even do it.”

“That’s a possibility, for sure. But it’s still worth asking, isn’t it?”

You tapped your wine glass thoughtfully, before you nodded strongly. “You’re right. I’ll ask him, and if it means we can help you, then it’s worth the emotional embarrassment.”

Rebecca smiled back at you. “And who knows?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “It might be fun.”

You raced home from work on Wednesday, and knocked on Roy’s door quickly, a bit after six in the evening. You were late for Fruit Shoot pre drinks, but the tube was to blame. He opened the door strongly and laid a blunt stare in your face.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“The Fruit Shoots are almost gone,” he said, smiling just a little.

“Then let me in quickly so I can fucking have one!” you exclaimed playfully. Roy let you in, and you slipped off your shoes in record time.

Roy’s house was so familiar to you now. The atmosphere inside made you feel safe and comfortable, and always brought you back to past times when you’d been inside or passing by his road. He strolled in toe next to you as you made your way to the kitchen. There were a number of Fruit Shoots and some snacks on the island as you entered.

“Phoebe!” Roy called as you grabbed a drink, and the pitter patter of feet erupted from the living room and around the corner.

When Phoebe bound towards her uncle you could hardly contain how happy you felt. She was someone special to him, really special, and he’d chosen you to meet her. That must’ve meant you’d done something right, surely?

Phoebe stopped before her uncle, but peered at you in curiosity. “What is it, Uncle Roy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, before the two turned back to you. He placed his hand on her head affectionately, before he met your eye. “Phoebe, this is my friend—”

“Are you the one that wrote that story about my Uncle Roy?” Phoebe cut over him, and you scoffed abruptly from how confident she was at only seven years old.

You leaned down slightly. “Yes, I am. Has your Uncle Roy talked about me before?”

“All the time!” Phoebe exclaimed, and you peered up at him playfully. Roy growled, embarrassed at his niece spilling all his secrets. “He told me that you wrote a story about him in the newspaper,” she said.

“I did. Lots of people read it.”

“He also told me that he’s annoyed at you because you’re the only person that can tell him when he’s done something bad,” she said it so surely that it caught you off-guard. You scoffed as you straightened out, and shot a playful look at Roy.

He looked thoroughly embarrassed. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were square, and you knew he wanted to yell or hide away in that moment. It only made you laugh even harder, as a few giggles trickled from your mouth.

“I’m definitely not the only person who tells him off, but I might be the only one he listens to about it,” you said. “Come on, what else has he said about me?” you urged playfully.

Roy stepped between you and Phoebe. “That’s fucking enough.”

Phoebe gasped suddenly, and your eyes widened. “That’s a bad word, Uncle Roy!”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, as if he’d apologised for the same thing a thousand times. He probably had.

“You owe the swear jar a pound!” Phoebe pointed at Roy threateningly, chastising him.

Roy messed up her bright blonde hair affectionately. “Add it to the rest of the bill.”

After a huge chinese dinner, where you all opened fortune cookies and laughed at the fact Roy got life will get better, just wait in his own, the three of you sat in the living room. Phoebe and you sat on the plush rug in front of the sofa, while Roy took the sofa. He crossed his arms for the duration of Ice Age, staying quiet as you and Phoebe bonded over how funny Sid the sloth was.

When the baby came on screen, you grimaced immediately. You’d forgotten just how ugly it was. Roy was absolutely right. You twisted yourself around to meet his eye, and furrowed your brows. “You’re right. It’s still so ugly.”

“Told you,” he said, before you turned back around to the TV. Phoebe jumped up onto your lap as you did, and you snuggled her close to your chest as the film continued.

Behind you, Roy was twitching. Despite only seeing the tops of your heads, and the shake of your shoulders when you laughed, there was something brewing within him when seeing you with his niece. He didn’t often introduce people he knew to her, because of the impact it would have on her when those people could inevitably leave. It had happened with her piece of shit father, and from that moment, Roy had started involving himself even more– just to give his sister a break, just because he loved his family so fucking much.

Seeing you with her, getting on so well in this way, made him swallow away his deepest wants. In a perfect world, he would have made his way down beside you both on the floor. You would have leaned into him, sharing the weight of the child in your lap, and he would have draped his arm over your shoulder and held you close– but no.

Roy inhaled a laboured breath, and forced himself to focus on the screen for the rest of the film; knuckles white, body tensed, trying and failing not to feel everything.

Phoebe was fast asleep by the time the credits rolled. You held her in your arms as Roy got up and switched off the TV, before turning back to you both. You glanced down at Phoebe’s dreaming face as you frowned awkwardly. Roy’s expression was somewhere between stoic and glowing. His jaw clenched when you peered up at him in subtle pleading.

“What do I do?” you whispered.

“Fuck all. You’re stuck like that until she wakes up,” he replied, crossing his arms. You gulped away your nerves, looking back at Phoebe in your arms. Roy took his opportunity to smile without you seeing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered harshly, but you inwardly accepted your fate. You peered back at Roy, and his face flattened. “So, are you just going to stand there?” He shrugged. “Roy!” you whispered strongly.

That was enough for him to finally crumble. His hard expression faltered and was replaced with the smallest of smiles. He dropped his arms to his sides as he started towards you. “I’m fucking kidding,” he whispered deeply, as he knelt before you. “I’ve got her.”

You would have looked away as Roy picked up his niece if you had the chance. He was soft, and gentle, as he slotted his hands beneath her and hoisted her from your lap easily. He draped her over his shoulder with such care, as her cheek squished sleepily against his shoulder. His hand found her back and stayed there warmly.

“I’ll tuck her in,” he said, before making his way out of the room and up the stairs.

You stayed put after he left, cleaning up the snacks from the coffee table and straightening out the sofa cushions just from habit. You chucked away empty crisp packets and yoghurt pots, and threw some finished Fruit Shoot bottles in the recycling bin. It was comforting as you familiarly navigated all the cupboards and drawers in Roy’s kitchen. You knew your way around his house very well, and often found yourself jealous of the space. It’s not that you didn’t like your apartment– of course, you did– but Roy’s house was proper.

It was funny. Without trying at all, you were able to slot yourself alongside Roy here. Living alongside each other, cooking dinners, drinking beers on his back patio, watching shitty movies on the sofa. You slammed another Fruit Shoot bottle in the recycling as a way to snap yourself out of it. No good came from imagining more between you and Roy, especially after everything that had already occurred.

You let out an angry huff at yourself as you leant upon the kitchen island, looking out towards the dining table. You wracked your fingers through your hair, as your eyes settled upon his bookshelf in all its glory. You enjoyed looking at it, no matter how many times you’d already scoured the overflowing shelves. Squinting, you gently approached the dining table as your eye hit upon something new; something that hadn’t been there previously.

On the middle shelf, right between cards from Phoebe and Roy’s sister, your article had been framed and placed for all to see. At the top, next to the title, was that classic picture of Roy from the first game of football you’d ever seen. His foot was on the ball, his stare hard, his hair trimmed in that robotic way that he’d used to do.

You couldn’t believe he’d kept it, and framed it, and put it up– all of it. It made your heart thump incessantly in your chest. It made the logical side of your brain completely disappear; the side that told you not to jump, that held you back, that told you not to complicate things.

“You noticed it, hm?” Roy said suddenly, appearing in the kitchen as you stayed glued in front of the dining table.

You turned to him, wide-eyed and full of love. “You kept it?”

“‘Course I did,” he said, walking towards you slowly. “It was your big break, and the nicest thing ever fucking written about me. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you started, but chose to stop part way through. You settled, and smiled. “It’s nice that you did.”

Roy nodded, and growled subtly. Silence trickled over you both, as the obvious tension between you was cemented even further. This always happened when you were alone, together, looking at one another like you were memorising the lines on each other’s faces.

“Fancy a drink?” Roy asked coarsely. He had to cough slightly to stop his voice from breaking.

You breathed out deeply. “Yes. Please. Yes please.” You found your voice again, and the tension dissipated slightly as he headed towards the fridge.

You sunk into one of the chairs at the dining table, watching closely as Roy opened the fridge and grabbed two green bottles of beer. It was nice that you didn’t have to say what it was you wanted, didn’t have to even direct, he just knew. He knew you, and you knew him just as well. He popped the tops off both bottles, before sitting down opposite you. He slid you a beer, and your fingers touched his own as he made the pass. It went unsaid, and you ignored your heart in your chest.

The two of you sipped at your drinks in unison, transcending into a different realm of awkward (and) or sexual tension. It was always this way, this feeling. You’d grown so used to it from being so exposed to being watched, analysed, affectionately stared at, by Roy’s gaze, that you didn’t bat an eye when you looked at him– only to find him already staring at you.

You squinted at him playfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said.

You raised your drink to your lips. “Fine.” You drank, and let his lingering eyes watch as you gulped back more beer. As you placed your bottle down, you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet Phoebe.”

“It was about time,” he said, leaning forward. “Like she said– I apparently don’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smiled smally, before the two of your drank in unison, just to fill the happy silence.

You thought of Rebecca then. Of her strong jaw and broad shoulders and confident strides. If it’d been her, she would have taken matters into her own hands a long time ago. Before Roy’s retirement, before the article, she would have launched herself into this all strongly from the moment he’d invited you for a drink after the charity ball.

As Rebecca’s gorgeous face shone behind your eyelids, you remebered your lunch. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered suddenly, as you recalled her double date situation.

“What?” Roy questioned.

“Well,” you started. You leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and innately psyched yourself up to broach this idea to him. You couldn’t believe what you were about to ask of him. “Rebecca is seeing a man– John.”

“John,” Roy repeated.

“And, well,” you said, stalling for time. You grimaced, just for lack of how to even get it all out. “She… well, she–”

“Are you having a fucking stroke or something?” Roy asked, before he slammed his hand over your forehead abruptly, searching for a fever.

You burst out laughing as soon as he did, and swatted away his fingers. “Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” you exclaimed.

Roy removed his hand from your head. “Then get to the fucking point!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, getting worked up. “Rebecca is seeing this man, and she wants her friends’ approval to be sure he’s not a fucking weirdo.” You sucked in a deep breath, and reworded your entire question until it wasn’t one anymore. “You’re going to pretend to be my partner, so we can judge if this guy is a psycho or not.” After you blurted it out, you half expected Roy to scoff. Surely he wouldn’t say yes, surely he would protest, and whine, and sulk, and everything else that his thirty-six year old arse would do when forced into this kind of situation.

Instead, he stayed still. He stayed calm, and his express didn’t falter. “When is it?” Roy asked.

“This weekend.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” You stared at him, utterly boggled.

Roy furrowed his brows, as if saying yes was the most obvious answer of all. “Who else would you fucking take? Fucking Ted?”

You chose not to tell him of your first choice, or of Rebecca’s obvious dislike of the idea. You leaned back in your chair and took a surprised gulp of beer, before clutching the bottle to your chest. “I can’t wrap my head around why you’re fine about this,” you said honestly. “Are you having a fucking stroke?”

Quickly, you reached your hand out and laid it upon Roy’s forehead, mimicking his earlier behaviour. You thought he’d push you off, or laugh, or copy the way you reacted. When he gently leant into your touch, you froze.

“I feel just fine,” he said lowly, his stare glued on yours. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, and you dropped your palm from his head. Quickly, Roy shuffled his hand so his thumb hit your pulse point. “Are you alright?”

You felt your heart rate accelerate, which meant Roy felt it, too.

Quickly, you pried your hand out of his grasp, but not before your fingers swiped over each other’s. You moved your hand to your lap, just to avoid staring at it as your mind raced.

“I’m fine,” you said, despite the fact it was an obvious lie. That’s when Roy’s lips curled into a small smile. “But– great. This is great.” You tried to redirect the conversation to the double date, tried to keep things professional. “Rebecca gets the answers she wants, we get a free meal, and I get to dress in something other than the same five outfits I wear at work every week… but,” you said, tapping your glass anxiously. “We have to pretend to be a couple.”

Roy shrugged. “We’ll live.” He wasn’t ready to admit to you that he knew it would be easy. Maybe you might make it harder, but if all Roy had to do to be convincing was occasionally hold your hand, or sit close to you, or bicker like an old married couple, then he was already there.

You squinted at him, still confused. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Roy shrugged again, but it was only with the sole intention to have you roll your eyes at him. He succeeded.

As Saturday approached, it properly dawned on you what was about to happen. You and Roy had to pretend to be together, while simultaneously navigating not just Rebecca, but her newest man, as well. You found yourself wishing that Keeley wasn’t away, but that definitely would have been the easy way out.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go on a fake double date Roy fucking Kent– that in itself was something that (ashamedly so) made you so fucking excited that it was miracle you’d been able to contain it for the remaining days before the weekend. It wasn’t about the possible awkwardness that you could both feel at having to be noticeably affectionate, or the fumbling fingers that you would both have during those first few tries.

It was about the aftermath.

It was about the possible shift that could happen as a result of this little charade. It was about the marathon you were already running to keep at bay every single feeling you had for Roy (and the ones he held for you that you had no clue about). It was about being able to leave that table at that restaurant still knowing that everything would be normal and unchanged and not fucking complicated.

That’s what you focused on for the rest of the week, and when Saturday morning turned to afternoon, and when that afternoon turned to early evening, you felt stronger. As you got ready to go into this shitstorm, you were determined not to let all hell break loose.

Just down the road, Roy pulled a black t-shirt over his head. He paired it with black jeans, the usual, but opted to spray his most expensive cologne over the top— not the usual. It was true that he was excited about this. Just the opportunity to make you blush was enough to make him smile, and after he felt the upbeat pitter patter of your pulse he was beginning to doubt that you harboured no romantic feelings for him.

Either way, no matter the outcome, he was going to grab hold of this situation by the throat. It was funny; being given the opportunity to be close to you, to imagine being together, and all the rest; but even just being allowed to pretend and put on a show for one evening made him feel satisfied.

Innately, though, he told himself not to go overboard. As much as your pulse had betrayed you, he wasn’t about to put you in an uncomfortable situation for the sake of it. Roy was almost a decade older than you, he harboured experience galore— what with being an ex-star footballer— but he still knew you weren’t the time to fuck around.

He glanced at his watch; he had a little under an hour before he was due to pick you up. This evening was certainly going to be one he’d remember for a while, even if he ended up wanting to fucking forget all about it by the end.

Roy’s Jeep pulled up outside your flat. You heard it from your living room window, and quickly slung a small bag over your shoulder before leaving through your door. Roy cut off the engine before he jumped from the driver’s seat. As he rounded his car, the squeak of your building door sounded. He peered up, and what met his gaze was only the first step of his night fully starting.

As you shut the door behind you, your dress blew up to just past your knees. Compared with the charity ball, you’d opted to wear a jacket over it in this cold, which almost made Roy laugh to himself. You descended the steps as he took a relaxed stance by the passenger side door, and when you finally glanced his way, he was already looking at you. This was a running theme, you thought, catching Roy’s eye, only to find him already looking at you gently.

“Hey,” you said, slightly breathlessly from the cold but also from him. You trickled your gaze over his body. He wore nothing different than normal, his usual combo of black on black, but this time it felt different. It was oddly reminiscent of the night of the charity ball, a year ago now, but with a slight twist.

You felt older, you knew each other better, and that unspoken tension hadn’t cropped up until later that fateful night. Now, everything was different. But in the best way.

“Hey,” Roy said lowly, his voice gravelly. “Ready to go?”

You nodded sweetly, smiling at him as you stood face to face. You inhaled, and as you did, his cologne hit your nose. You had to ignore how fucking good he smelled, even more so when you both clambered into the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Roy cleared his throat. “So,” he started, and you sensed some trepidation in his tone that made you look at him slyly. “This double date thing… how far are we taking it?”

Abruptly, you choked on your own spit. You coughed loudly and turned towards the window, until the tickle in your throat finally ceased. “What?” you croaked, panicking. Roy smiled to himself quickly, before he clenched his jaw forcefully.

“This guy, Jim, or whatever. He thinks we’re an item, right?” Roy continued.

You furrowed your brows at him curiously. “Yes.”

“So, how far are we taking this fake relationship shit?” Roy asked again.

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “I don’t fucking know.” You tried to act casual and unbothered. It was fucking difficult. “Far enough for it to be believable, I guess.”

“So,” Roy said. “Can I hold your hand?”

You swallowed. “Yeah, obviously.” You kept your eyes ahead of you, but could feel Roy’s stare hit your profile every few seconds, only when he wasn’t looking at the road.

“Okay,” he said. “Can I touch your waist, or– I don’t know– your thigh under the table, or some shit?” Roy attempted to lace stoicism within his words. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to know what he could and couldn’t do. Just for clarity, just so you were on the same page.

You glanced out the window, looking away from him. You didn’t want him to see the warmth that had appeared on your cheeks. It was a miracle he couldn’t hear the butterfly wings that ravaged your stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, fine,” Roy said, clearing his throat afterwards. His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel.

You sucked in a deep breath, but all it did was remind you of his cologne. “Anything else?” you asked assumptively, tensing yourself involuntarily.

Roy stopped the car at a red light. “Yeah,” he said sharply, turning to you strongly. You turned to look at him, too, catching his eye with as much confidence you could muster. “Can I kiss you?”

You stopped breathing. The urge to look at Roy’s lips was unavoidable. You wanted to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay composed, so your initially thought answer of yes, God, yes had to be contained on this occasion. You’d spent three days internally preparing yourself for this, but as soon as Roy started asking his questions your walls practically crumbled. His prying had a feeling behind it, intent, and you knew Roy well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask these things lightly. That was the first hurdle to jump over.

The next– the way he was looking at you made you want to abandon your evening with Rebecca and John altogether. If it were up to you, you’d tell him to pull over the car on any desolate street he could find, just so you could finally give in to this silly crush. It was obvious this wasn’t just you anymore, that this small unspoken thing had developed further inside both of you, until it had left you in this fucking situation.

A fake date, with real feelings. What a fucking nightmare.

“I–” you started, but couldn’t get another word out as Roy’s gaze darted to your lips and back.

Oh, the fucking bastard. He was good, really good, and he knew it, too. Was this what he did with the Spice Girls? Because it was fucking working. It was enough to make you want to spill everything, to not hold back any longer.

“Roy.” You breathed out.

He looked at you so softly. “Yeah?” he said lowly.

“I need to tell you something–”

The shrill boom of a car horn from behind made you gasp. Roy twisted himself abruptly to the windshield, and the light that once was red was now green again. The car honked its horn once more, and Roy let out a growl. “I’m going, you fucking twat!” he yelled, before smashing his foot down on the accelerator.

And just like that, the conversation had to take another back seat. You still had parts to play, and hearts to bear, and lots and lots of wine to fucking drink.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross have a plan to soundtrack everything

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross – best friends and Nine Inch Nails bandmates – found unlikely creative fulfilment (and a couple of Oscars) by reassessing what they had to offer as musicians. Now they’re thinking even bigger, and imagining an artistic empire of their own making

By Zach Baron

Photography by Danielle Levitt

Every weekday, Trent Reznor makes his way from his house, a cottagey sprawl behind a white wall in a canyon on Los Angeles’s Westside, to a studio he’s built in his backyard. There he meets his best friend, bandmate, and business partner, Atticus Ross, and they get to work. Reznor and Ross observe the same hours, Monday to Friday, 11am to 7pm. “We show up,” Reznor told me. “We’re not late. We’re not coming in to start to fuck around.” It’s a methodical, orderly existence that Reznor could not have foreseen in the ’90s, when he was fronting Nine Inch Nails and struggling with a drug-and-alcohol problem that was his answer to success. “I would do anything to avoid writing a song,” Reznor said. “I’d rewire the studio 50 times.”

Now Reznor has a wife, Mariqueen Maandig, five children, and multiple jobs. He is sober. Since 2010, when the director David Fincher asked Reznor and Ross to score The Social Network, for which Reznor and Ross won an Oscar, the two men have had steady employment composing for film. This year, Reznor and Ross are also starting a yet-to-be-named company, built around storytelling in multiple disciplines: film production, fashion, a music festival, and a venture with Epic Games.

And then, of course, there is the oldest and perhaps still the most complicated of Reznor’s jobs: being the frontman of Nine Inch Nails. In 1988 Reznor formed what was then a one-man band; the first two full-length records Nine Inch Nails released, Pretty Hate Machine(1989) and The Downward Spiral (1994), have sold more than eight million copies. (Over subsequent years and subsequent albums, the band has since crossed the 20 million mark in sales.) In the ’90s, for a time, Nine Inch Nails were ubiquitous: a phenomenon on the level of Nirvana or Dr Dre. During that decade, the success of the band nearly killed Reznor. “I didn’t feel prepared to process how disorientating that was,” he said. “How much it can distort your personality.”

These days, Nine Inch Nails, which Ross joined as a full-time member in 2016, present a different problem – how do you make something old, something so already well-defined, new again? There are years when Reznor feels like he has the answers and years when he’s less certain. He has put the band on hiatus more than once; after the last Nine Inch Nails tour, in 2022, Reznor deliberately took a break from playing shows as well. “For the first time in a long time I wasn’t sure: what’s the tour going to say?” Reznor told me. “What do I have to say right now? We can still play those songs real good. Maybe we can come up with a new production. But it wasn’t screaming at me: this is what to do right now.”

But he and Ross still come to work, daily, in search of transcendence. “We sit in here every day,” Reznor said. “And a portion of the time organically becomes us just figuring out who we are as people and processing life and a kind of therapy session. And in those endless hours it’s come up: why do we want to do this? And the reason is because we both feel the most in touch with God and fulfilled.”

It is easy to make things when you are a teenager growing up in rural Pennsylvania, near the Ohio border, as Reznor was, and you have nothing to lose and everything to gain; it is considerably harder, once you’ve got older, and found a way to make things that people like, to keep going. It’s an old story: the act of creation can lift you up, but those sharp gifts can also destroy you, and if you make it past that, the sheer blissful regularity of life with money and a family can even you out so thoroughly that there is no friction left to work with. You look inside the cupboard and the cupboard is bare, or it’s a mansion and living inside of it is a person you’re bored of, and so you stop looking. But Reznor and Ross have never stopped looking, and the search for that magical feeling of finding something – that feeling of, in Reznor’s words, “I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know how I just did what I did, but I’ve channelled it into something that worked” – is still the thing that organises their days and their moods.

We were talking in their studio, which was low-lit and cold and full of synthesizers’ blinking lights. Reznor was on a sofa and Ross sat in a chair nearby. The two men first met in the ’90s, when Reznor signed Ross’s band, 12 Rounds, to Reznor’s Nothing Records. Soon after, they became friends, and then musical collaborators. “I was just getting sober,” Reznor said, “and I was in a pretty fragile transitional phase. And I just hit it off with Atticus right off the bat. And part of it was, he was someone who was on much firmer ground, in a mentor-y kind of way, than I was.”

Ross is two years younger than Reznor, but when they met, he’d already been through certain things Reznor was just getting around to. “I got clean when I was very young,” Ross told me. “So I had a bit more experience than him. Put it like this: I knew you could have fun without being high.”

Their friendship has been a constant in both their lives since. “I don’t know if parts of us are broken and we don’t feel good enough,” Reznor said, staring at the ceiling of the studio, “but we know if we work as hard as we can and do the best work we can, it fixes something. At the core of it, that’s what unites us creatively. On top of that, I think his take on the world and role in life helps me understand my place and not feel as detached in some ways.”

Reznor often jokes, or simply explains, that he is a “quart low” on whatever it is that makes people happy. “I think we can both, on our own devices, run below zero as a baseline,” Reznor said. “I don’t mean manic depression, I just mean we don’t take compliments well. It’s like when we won the Oscar, it was the day after: ‘Let’s take today guilt-free, kind of say fuck yeah.’ And tomorrow we’ll have settled back down to a few feet below sea level.”

In their years of collaborating with each other, both men have found some mutual reassurance – a little lift. Reznor gestured at Ross.

“I remember something he said to me – I don’t know if you want me to say this or not – in one of our talks years ago: ‘Here’s what I want today.’”

“I see what’s coming,” Ross said, nervously.

“I just want to feel OK,” Reznor said, quoting his friend. “I want to feel like I’m OK.”

One day this winter, Reznor greeted me at the door of their studio – in the course of reporting this story, I never saw him anywhere else – wearing a black hoodie made by the synthesizer company Moog, black jeans, and black running shoes. At 58, Reznor still retains the angular intensity and jet-black hair of his youth, but time and fatherhood seem to have made him quicker to smile. He looks a little like a college professor now, or an unusually-well-cared-for software engineer. He led me back, past walls of unused gear and several black-clad mannequins, all of which startled me, to their primary workspace, where Ross – a tall west Londoner (he grew up in Ladbroke Grove) with a stern face and a pleasantly reedy voice – sat at a computer, also all in black. (Once, I asked the two men whether their upcoming clothing line would feature any colour. “No,” Reznor said, incredulously. “Of course not.”)

They were on deadline for two films at the moment, including Luca Guadagnino’s forthcoming Queer. “But we’re trying not to work,” Reznor said, drily. Leaned up against one wall was a photo of the two in tuxedos, accepting the Academy Award for best original score for their work on The Social Network. Reznor had contributed to soundtracks before, in the ’90s, but he’d never formally scored a film until The Social Network.

But Reznor and Ross quickly realised that the work, in some ways, wasn’t so different from songwriting. “What do we do when we write a song?” Reznor asked. “We’re trying to emotionally connect with somebody.” Take the Mark Zuckerberg character in The Social Network:“Here’s somebody who thinks this idea is so important that it’s worth kind of fucking your friends over for it. And then realising maybe it wasn’t worth it, or I didn’t realise how I’d feel if I got what I wanted at the price of this. I can relate to that in my own language. Suddenly there’s music.”

“I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor said. “I couldn’t have predicted that I would feel this level of fulfilment.”

And Reznor found that he enjoyed the exercise of solving someone else’s problems instead of his own. “There’s something about not being the boss and working again in service to something that I initially felt guilty for feeling kind of fulfilled by in a weird way.”

Reznor said that on another Fincher film, Mank, the director suggested: “What if it sounded like maybe inspired by Bernard Herrmann and as if it were recorded in 1935 and this film canister sat on the shelf for 60 years?” OK, interesting. (Ross and Reznor were nominated for that one too.)

On the first film the two men scored for Guadagnino, Bones and All, “we got a cut of that that was nearly four hours long with no music and we kind of thought, Oh, fuck,” Reznor said. “Four hours we sat without a pee break, transfixed. It didn’t need music. And when you watch that you approach it differently.” Then Guadagnino brought them Challengers, due for worldwide release in April. Reznor said, “He started us down a path, saying, ‘What if it was very loud techno music through the whole film?’” (This is exactly what it turned out to be.)

“I wish I had his notes,” Ross said of Guadagnino. “His notes were so fucking funny on what each piece was meant to do.”

“Oh, yeah,” Reznor said. “‘Unending homoerotic desire.’ It was all a variation on those three words.”

They liked the challenge of scoring, they found, and that feeling of not being in control. They also liked the way it made them crave being in control again: “It makes you more inspired to work on other stuff when we’re finished,” Reznor said. “Even if it’s just, Thank God it’s done now and we can appreciate the freedom we had before we gave it up.”

These days, Reznor and Ross also like having jobs that let them be at home, around their families. Both men had tumultuous or lonely lives when they were younger; both men have found that fatherhood soothes certain unresolved aspects of their pasts. Ross has three kids, and “probably the greatest reward is how balanced and happy they all are compared to – certainly my growing up was an unusual sort of scenario. It was a fairly chaotic youth.” Ross comes from a notable English family, but his immediate lineage was more unstable. “My dad had a club called Flipper’s Roller Boogie Palace in LA in the ’70s,” Ross told me. “He went bankrupt in England and had a judgment passed against him where he couldn’t talk to a bank manager for 15 years. So he moved here and opened this sort of Studio 54 on roller skates on La Cienega and Santa Monica.” Ross held up a coffee-table book full of photos of the club. “You don’t need to look at it, but it was just a mad life. So I grew up in some madness.”

It is particularly endearing to see Reznor, who at a distance was a fierce and terrifying figure in his 20s and 30s, find domestic bliss. I am old enough that my adolescence coincided neatly with the S&M-flavoured, I wanna fuck you like an animal era of Nine Inch Nails; when I was leaving Reznor’s house one day, I noted with some amusement the cheerful mundanity of a basketball hoop in the backyard. “I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor told me. “I couldn’t have predicted that there was a world where I would have a sizeable family with kids and feel the level of fulfilment and comfort and be able to live in that.”

Was that something you were consciously seeking before you found it?

“I think I had some abandonment issues from my parents splitting up, or feeling I never fit in, and I’d gotten accustomed to being on my own. And largely due to my own, I think, inability to really be intimate with people, or share or be open or know how to be a friend or a partner to somebody… Trying that out and doing it with pure and full immersion has led to an unexpectedly great outcome.”

-----------------------

The other film project Reznor and Ross were on deadline for was Scott Derrickson’s The Gorge, a science-fiction thriller starring Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy. They were working on a lengthy, music-dependent scene that they’d already mostly scored. But, Ross said, “the director wants it to be a bit more, I can’t think of a better word than just a bit more scary and intense.” They weren’t sure what that directive meant, exactly, but they were content – they were happy – to try to figure it out: to enter the room once again, carrying nothing, and to try to leave it with something that didn’t exist before.

Ross called up the scene on a monitor at the centre of a long mixing board: Teller and Taylor-Joy in an evil-looking spiky forest. Reznor and Ross have somewhat fluid roles in their collaboration, but today the plan was for Reznor to improvise some music while Ross edited and manipulated it in real time. “Atticus’ superpower,” Reznor said, “is that I can come up with a melody and a chord change, and he can make that sit on the scene in a way that is meticulous, and mind-numbingly boring to watch him do.”

A studio assistant, also in all black, presented himself to help Reznor set up a microphone and a cello next to a keyboard that sat underneath another computer monitor. Ross hit play on the footage and what they’d already completed of the score, a kind of haunted, chanting murmur. “It’s basically atmosphere at the moment,” Ross said. Next to him was a synthesizer whose make and model he asked me not to print and which the two men use as a kind of sound ecosystem to feed stuff into.

Reznor began by pushing down on the piano’s keyboard, while with his other hand he manipulated the sound with a flat synthesizer on the desk in front of him. It began as a kind of mellow pan flute thing, and then, with a push of a few buttons, became more of a sad, Social Network-ish plonk. Ross stood up and started tapping the synthesizer to his left, and the sounds Reznor made began to loop and accumulate – little melodic figures that plunged in and out of feedback. Reznor moved from the piano to the microphone, where he sang a few soft passages in a baritone falsetto, more sad than spooky, and then to the cello, which he played slowly and choppily. Ross moved between the computer and the synthesizer, trying to harness it all as it built to a loud, echoing crescendo.

After about 20 minutes, Reznor sat back in his chair, and Ross soon followed suit. Everything got quiet again. “It’s going fishing,” Reznor said to me, shrugging. “Sometimes something happens.”

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Or, sometimes, everything happens. One of the first things you see when you arrive at Reznor’s home studio are two original paintings by the Yorkshire artist Russell Mills – on the left, a razor against a rusty red background; on the right, a decaying yellow-and-black collage – that ultimately became the insert and the cover art for Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral. This is the record with “Hurt” and “Closer” on it. It’s an album Reznor nearly didn’t survive.

Why do I bring this up? Well. If I may, for a moment, sound like the ageing dude in a black T-shirt leaning against the back wall of a bar where you’re just trying to be young and free of recitations of what the year 1994 felt like, there was a different quality to the way things would happen in music. Bands would labour for years, unknown, and then just get struck by lightning, is the best way I can put it: one day, you’re just a guy, and then one radio station plays your song, and then every radio station plays your song, and everyone is listening to those radio stations, because there is nothing else to do, and then MTV loops your video, and everyone watches it because, again, there is nothing else to do, and all of a sudden you are known by millions of bored people in a way that doesn’t quite happen now. This is a gross oversimplification, of course, but here Reznor is, one of the very few people who have experienced the thing I’m describing. I thought: let’s just ask him what that was like.

Reznor said, OK, he could tell me exactly what it felt like. He gave me a single moment: Woodstock ’94, which Nine Inch Nails almost didn’t play – “it seemed like it was going to be gross, to be honest with you” – but ultimately did. “And when we got there, it was terrifying,” Reznor said. “It was way bigger than I pictured in my head and walking on stage. But this is the point of the story: I knew. You could feel like you were in the right place at the right time.”

In retrospect, how did you handle success?

“Had a drink. That’s what sent me down the path. I wasn’t the guy that, you know, at 12 years old cracked a beer. That wasn’t it at all. Just, I feel anxious around people. I’m not sure how to act, especially now that you’re someone that’s supposed to act a certain way. There’s a projection. It feels uncomfortable to walk down the street and people are looking at you because they recognise you. That’s weird. Suddenly everybody wants to be your friend and you’re the coolest. Everyone wants to date you and shit like that.” Reznor said he found it was “easier to have a beer before I go in that room, and then a couple of beers before I go in that room. And pretty soon over a period of time, wait a minute, things start to get out of control. And you know how the story goes.”

Here’s how the story went: Reznor began to wonder if Trent Reznor could ever live up to the Nine Inch Nails guy that people had in their heads. “The reason I was having to drink was to fix that problem, my own insecurity. But the net result is: I’m not really who I am because now I’ve got drugs or alcohol in my system and I’m not thinking as who I really am. And that comes into focus once one gets sober and has time to reflect and kind of think about what got you there and shit you did.”

Eventually, Reznor got sober, and built himself back up. Today he’s happy to talk about all of it, obviously, but he and Ross have done a lot together since – 10 albums’ worth of Nine Inch Nails (Ross was an official member of the band for five of them), among other things – and Reznor is, by nature, not one to dwell too much on the past of a band that he’s still very much trying to figure out. “We’re not fans of resting on our laurels. We’ve been afraid of thinking about nostalgia. That’s a whole other conversation, but the reality is we’re getting older and our fans are getting older and that’s a fact. And I think, say, during the pandemic, not that you asked this question, but as I’m sure everybody was, I was pretty genuinely freaked out and very clearly came into focus: I’ve got to protect my family.”

He was consumed by fear, by terror of what might happen, of what he might do about it. “I can’t even fit all my kids in a car,” Reznor said. “But in the midst of that anxiety, sitting alone in here, I found comfort in nostalgia. I found comfort looking back at things from my youth that I’ve been afraid to even allow myself to glimpse at because it meant artistic death. Because one has to look forward. One can’t be self-referential. I was so afraid growing up in a little shitty town. I could see people that thought the highlight of their life is junior in high school catching the football. You know what I mean? That’s it. That was the peak. I don’t want to fucking be that person. I could see my fate if I stayed in that town.”

In those moments sitting by yourself, what were you getting nostalgic for?

“I miss parts of living in Pennsylvania. I miss a simpler life that I grew up with. I really loved the first INXS album in 1983. I was a senior in high school, and when I listen to it now I could almost start crying because it fucking reminds me of driving in a shitty fucking car in the summer in Pennsylvania. You know what I mean? Man. I allowed myself to kind of immerse myself in who I was at that time, and what it felt like.”

Reznor had been trying to remake himself ever since he left where he grew up, and now here he is in Los Angeles, over 40 years later. “And I kind of went on a deep dive for a while and allowed myself to realise: I am who I am. And the things that made me weren’t the cool things. I’d always been ashamed of: I came from a shitty town; I didn’t have an exotic upbringing; shitty education, you know what I mean? That’s who I am. I’m not sure what the point of all that confession was.”

Well, except: “It plays into where I’m at now.”

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The last time I saw Reznor and Ross, it was once again in their studio. They were sitting very still. Had they been working before I got there?

“We were for a little bit,” Ross said. “And then nervously thinking about you arriving.”

Really? It’s OK if that’s the truth.

“That’s the truth,” Reznor said. They’d just been in this room for the past weeks, months – years, really, he said. Head down. Working. He gestured at me. “It’s a different mindset.”

And “I was thinking about something you said the other day,” Reznor said. That was on a Friday. I’d asked a somewhat rude question about their soundtrack work, which was: why would Reznor or Ross work for anyone else when they didn’t have to?

Now it was Monday. “I thought about that over the weekend,” Reznor said. “It’s like, Why are we doing this? The idea comes from what we think is a good place of ‘Let’s break it up. Let’s get sent down the rabbit hole on certain things and feel like we’ve got tasks being assigned to us rather than us just blindly seeing what happens creatively.’ ”

But, he said, “I think coming out of a stretch of a number of films in a row, I want some time of seeing where the wind blows versus: there’s a looming date on a calendar coming up and we’d better get our shit together. And certainly in the last few weeks I’ve been itching to do what we often do, which is just come in and let’s start something that we’re not even sure what it’s for.”

Some of that energy, he and Ross said, would probably become the next Nine Inch Nails album. Doing soundtrack work, Reznor said, had “managed to make Nine Inch Nails feel way more exciting than it had been in the past few years. I’d kind of let it atrophy a bit in my mind for a variety of reasons.”

But now, “I do feel excited about starting on the next record,” Ross said. “I think we’re in a place now where we kind of have an idea.”

And then there was the company, which Reznor and Ross spent the last two years putting together, piece by piece, with the help of John Crawford, their longtime art director, and the producer Jonathan Pavesi. The idea was, what could they do that they hadn’t already done around storytelling? Some of that might take the form of examining Nine Inch Nails from yet another angle – “we’ve been working on homegrown IP around Nine Inch Nails, stories we could tell, and we’re working on developing those in a way that are not what you think they’d be.” (As in: not a biopic.) They also have a show in development with Christopher Storer, the creator of The Bear, they said, and a film with the veteran horror director Mike Flanagan.

Reznor put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses so that he could examine a piece of paper next to him. “We just wrote some notes because I knew I’d forget what the fuck I’m about to say.” There was a short film coming with the artist Susanne Deeken. There was a clothing venture, a T-shirt line made in collaboration with a notable designer whose name they’d like to keep secret for now, which will arrive this summer. There was a music festival that they were currently planning, “where we’re going to debut as performing as composers along with a roster of other interesting people,” and a record label, both scheduled to launch around the same time.

And for two years they’ve been working with Epic Games on something that is not exactly a video game, in the UEFN ecosystem Epic has built around Fortnite – “It’s what Zuckerberg was trying to bullshit us into calling the metaverse,” Reznor said. “You can’t say that word any more, but in terms of the tool kit, thinking about it through the lens of what could be possible for artists and experiences, we thought that would be an interesting way to tell a story through that.”

They were nervously contemplating the prospect of having day jobs again, of being responsible for more than just themselves. Early on, as they contemplated launching the company, they’d sat down with David Fincher to ask him about movie production: how does it work? “And he’s like, oh, you’re fucked,” Reznor said. “I can distil a two-hour conversation into that. Because, he said, ‘I know you guys, and no one’s going to care more than you do, and you will not be able to let it go.’”

Reznor has actually had this experience before, of being sucked into a project bigger than Nine Inch Nails and having it take over his entire life. Years ago he worked as an executive, first for Beats and then for Apple, building a streaming-music service.

“Trent was very clear when we started,” Ross said. “We cannot let this get into Apple terrain.”

Reznor laughed. “What I mean by that is – I will make this brief; I’m trying to think through what I’m about to talk shit on. Just to self-censor for a second.”

Reznor paused for a moment and then explained. For years, he said, he’d wondered: what would make a good streaming service? This was before the advent of Spotify in the US or Apple Music. Jimmy Iovine, Reznor’s old label boss – later, Iovine would also become Ross’s brother-in-law, after he married Ross’s sister, Liberty, in 2016 – was launching a music service at Beats, which was then acquired by Apple, and Iovine said to Reznor: come try to make this thing a reality. And Reznor surprised himself by saying yes.

“It was a unique opportunity to work at the biggest company in the world at a high level,” Reznor said. “And it was interesting, the scale of the people that you reach through those platforms, just the global amount of influence those platforms can have was exciting. The political situation I was dropped into was not as exciting.”

Reznor enjoyed working with Apple’s design team and its engineering team. “But it made me realise how much I want to be an artist first and foremost.” Reznor also became discouraged with the possibility of fixing the problem that he was trying to solve. “I think the terrible payout of streaming services has mortally wounded a whole tier of artists that make being an artist unsustainable. And it’s great if you’re Drake, and it’s not great if you’re Grizzly Bear. And the reality is: take a look around. We’ve had enough time for the whole ‘All the boats rise’ argument to see they don’t all rise. Those boats rise. These boats don’t. They can’t make money in any means. And I think that’s bad for art. And I thought maybe at Apple there could be influence to pay in a more fair or significant way, because a lot of these services are just a rounding error compared to what comes in elsewhere, unlike Spotify where their whole business is that. But that’s tied to a lot of other political things and label issues, and everyone’s trying to hold onto their little piece of the pie and it is what it is. I also realise, I think that people just want to turn the faucet on and have music come in. They’re not really concerned about all the romantic shit I thought mattered.”

Anyway, Reznor said, turning to Ross, “That was a long-winded way of saying, when we talked about this company, I just said, ‘Be aware of what success might look like because it will turn into something that eats up lots of cycles and time and attention and energy.’ ”

But, Ross said, taking on new responsibilities was, paradoxically, also a way to stay a little younger. “I know we’ve all been talking about being dads and being adults and all that,” Ross said, “and there is a part of me that thinks: it’s important to keep the kid alive.” Meaning the child inside yourself, rather than the one you’re responsible for.

He told a story about him and Reznor visiting the director David Lynch at his house to work with him on the 2017 revival of Twin Peaks. “And I don’t know how old he was at the time,” Ross said, “but he was older. But just walking in there, and he had the room set up and there’s a screen there, there’s some chairs here and there’s some musical instruments there and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s nothing old about that dude. You know what I mean?”

Lynch showed them some Lynchian footage. It was incredible, even if they didn’t quite know what they were looking at. Lynch was probably 70 or 71 at the time. “But it’s that thing of it doesn’t matter how old he is,” Ross said. “He is alive. It’s that bit of it all that one doesn’t want to lose with age.”

The point was, Reznor said: “Let’s try some stuff. We’re bored. We are. You know what I mean? We’re grateful. We enjoy doing films. We can write a better Nine Inch Nails record, I think. We can put on a cooler tour. We are aimed to do that. But man, what if we try to do that?” Meaning, the company. “What if we could take what we’re good at, like we did with film? We identified something I think we’re good at and we figured out how to apply it to something else. What if we take that theory and try it on some other things? And that’s led us into: we’re not beaten down completely yet. And it feels exciting. That’s what matters to us right now.”

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Styled by Mobolaji Dawodu Grooming by Johnny Stuntz using Dior Capture Totale Hyalushot SFX Makeup by Malina Stearns Grills by Alligator Jesus Tailoring by Yelena Travkina Set design by Lizzie Lang at 11th House Agency Produced by Emily O’Meara at JN Production

#my ninposting #my transcription #trent reznor #atticus ross #nin #nine inch nails #trent #reznor #gq

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beautifulpersonpeach · 21 days

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Lol.

Yeah… the more news that comes out just confirms more of what I thought. This unnamed character who moves from HYBE to ADOR, and mere weeks later, HYBE gets a ‘tip-off’ and all the incriminating documents are in his work diaries where he narrates things MHJ has supposedly said, including that she believes that Bang establishing BTS or groups with the same cache as BTS, was him copying her…. Everything that’s found in his documents is almost clinically incendiary lmao. Like, weapons-grade rage bait. Partly because of how bizarre it is. And the sinker - they tie it to Min Heejin supposedly wanting more money. MHJ has meanwhile released another, stronger statement refuting the allegations about trying to stage a management takeover, or artists contract leaks etc.

Of course, the discourse about this is going to develop predictably, especially after the mention of BTS and other groups MHJ supposedly says copied her.

This has all the makings of one thing and only one thing, to me. It doesn’t change my opinion about Bang PD but it does make me revise my view on Min Heejin, she’s a bit more naive than I assumed her to be. I feel a bit sorry for her, because she’s been got. Again. It’s similar to the ig situation that also started with ‘a gift’ her ‘friend from SM’ gave her to congratulate her on launching ADOR - a gift that ended up being the most damning controversy that almost sunk the group. A controversy where the primary demand was for her to leave NewJeans and HYBE. Now, a ‘right-hand man’ transfers from HQ to her team and it’s his uncorroborated narrations that match what’s in the ‘tip-off’… the demands are the same.

I like MHJ, but I’ve always watched her with caution because in Korea, no woman makes it to the c-suite without making a shit tonne of enemies. Imagine it to be triple the amount a regular working class man makes on his way up the ladder, because that kind of status in Korea is something you’re either born into, or born close to. It’s rare for working class men to work their way up and even more rare for women. In fact, I’d say it’s an aberration.

I see all the flack MHJ gets for being a narcissistic bitch, wanting to constantly assert ownership of her ideas, wanting to be widely associated with her successful projects, etc. I see people irritated by her arrogance, but full disclosure, I like her for it. For several reasons, but one reason is that in her environment, the default is to let your male superiors take credit for your work. It happens in corporate environments all over the world, but in Korea it’s a mentality entrenched in the DNA. Pushing against that earns you enemies every time you speak, by default. But I suspect that’s how she worked her way up from being a graphic designer to having a seat on the board of directors at SM Entertainment before leaving when they wouldn’t give her more autonomy. So, in my eyes, she’s got spunk. But also, now I see she’s clumsy.

Oftentimes with corporate drama, there’s no point using moral language because it’s just business. You either pitched the best deal or you didn’t. You either fucked up or you didn’t. It’s cold numbers and rationality - business. But… there are some cases where it’s not really about the business, cases where it’s personal.

I don’t have meaningful insider information, I’m reading the press releases and ‘leaks’ along with everyone else, so I can’t be certain and that’s why I’m talking in this long-winded ramble without coming right out to say exactly what I think. What I’ll say though is that this is less about NewJeans and more about Min Heejin. And she’s the first person who should’ve understood that and taken necessary precautions.

Clearly, it doesn’t look like she has, and in that sense she has no one but herself to blame. She’s being stupid, in fact I’d say delusional in some ways, but I guess some things can’t be helped. NewJeans isn’t exactly fucked, but it’s clear that yet again, they are collateral damage. And it’s a shame.

#ador #min heejin #bang pd #NewJeans #Hybe #kpop

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kimbappykidding · 9 months

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Imagine having a huge crush on Dahyun and your world exploding when you get a job working with her

When your company asked you to host an event you said yes. You wanted to do more to promote your group Mamamoo as you weren’t the most social member and never volunteered for anything. You had the full support of your members and your friend BTS' Jin would also be hosting. You and Moonbyul were born the same year as Jin and became friends through a group chat. You were a little shy and personalities like Jin and Moonbyul's brought you out of your shell. So having Jin around as a fellow host would really help and you heard the two of you would be partnered up too so were actually excited about it...and then a week before you heard plans had been changed and your new partner was Twice's Dahyun. "I can't do it!" you said "I can't be her partner I'll never be able to speak or get my words out properly!" you said and Jin tried to calm you down. You were outside dress rehearsals and refused to go in the room because you were freaking out having just heard the news. "Y/n it will be fine, you can do this and Dahyun will have no clue". "How can you be so sure?" you asked and Jin patted your shoulder "how would she know?" he asked you "come on Y/n the only people who know are me, Moonbyul and your members and none of us would tell her. Just act normal and you'll be fine. Plus today is just dress rehearsal so you probably won't even be near her so much". You took a breath "yeah that's true". Jin nodded "and if it gets that bad I'll ask the manager if we can be partners instead, okay?". "You'd really do that?" you asked and Jin nodded "of course! So just give today a try and we have that if we need it, okay?". "Okay" you said feeling better "you're a good friend". "I know" Jin said smiling giving you a hug "now let's do this". The reason you were freaking out was that you had a small (huge) crush on Dahyun. You found funny girls so attractive and once you saw her Eagle dance you were hooked. She was so confident and unapologetically herself. You admired her so much and so started trying to be friends with her. You got pretty close and were on the stage of nodding and saying hi to one another whenever you passed at events...and then you realised you actually wanted to date her and got scared. Romance made you nervous and the second you realised what your feelings were you took a step back because how on earth would Dahyun want someone like you? All your members and Jin told you they disagreed and thought Dahyun would be lucky to have you but you weren't convinced and you'd been avoiding her ever since. It had been pretty successful too and you'd kept it up for a year but that streak was coming to an end.

You and Jin were the last two to enter rehearsals and the session started promptly. The manager introduced you all and then asked you to get into your pairs. You shot Jin a panicked look but he patted your arm and whispered "you got this" before going to stand with his partner Chanyeol. You looked across the room and saw Dahyun watching you. She shot you a big smile when you looked over and waved. You waved back and made your way over to her. "Hi!" she cried when she saw you "I'm so pleased we're pairs! This is going to be so much fun!". You nodded trying to mimic her energy "yeah so much fun...as long as I remember all my lines". "You will! I'll help you" Dahyun insisted "we can even meet up separately if you want to practice or anything". You nodded "yeah maybe" when the scripts were passed around. "Okay so we're going to run through once with scripts, give feedback and then a few more times without scripts. Sound good?". Everyone nodded and you flicked through the booklet. You and Dahyun had 4 appearances but only two of them were proper segments. Your first one was with Jin and Chanyeol and with Jin standing on the other side of you, you got through that pretty easily. The director said you were good which was reassuring. "You clearly know your lines and have good diction so just try and have fun with it!" he told you. You nodded but saw Jin trying not to laugh and couldn't resist a smile. Then your next scene was a little later and you and Dahyun stood waiting. "Have you ever done something like this before?" she asked and you shook your head "no, honestly I'm not the most social or confident person so I've never really been in front of a crowd that wasn't our fans". "Really?" Dahyun asked "that's so surprising you seem so chill on stage". You blushed, pleased she thought that and finally returned the question "what about you?". She shrugged "I've been performing since I was little so yeah but nothing on this scale. It's a bit nerve-wracking isn't it?". You were relieved to hear her say that and nodded "yes! I'd love to be one of those people who never get nervous in front of people. Jin's like that" you said watching him charm all the managers with his segment and couldn't help smiling. "Yeah but then it'd be too easy" Dahyun joked "plus I think it's really impressive that you are still doing this even if you're not the most social. It's really brave". You smiled "thanks! Let's see how it works out" and Dahyun smiled "don't worry, we're in this together" and you looked down so she wouldn't see you blush. Then the time came for your first segment together and you had the lines memorised, until the part where Dahyun makes a joke and leans in close to you. You lost your train of thought the second you made close eye contact with her and had to be prompted by the director to continue. You decided not to look at Dahyun for the rest of the segment but afterwards, the director asked you to do it again but with more interaction! You felt like you were going to combust on the spot and every time you looked at Dahyun it took you a few seconds to get back in the swing of it. You felt like the director made you run your section forever and when he said you could stop you rushed into the crowd quickly. Dahyun found you a few seconds later "there you are, so I thought that went quite well". "Really?" you asked and she nodded "yeah! All we've got to work on is our chemistry but I mean of course! We're not going to be super close from day one". You nodded "yeah that's true" but inside was just praying she'd not see how much your hands were shaking, Your second segment run-through was better, mainly because there was less interaction with each other and then the final closing skit was fine. The director called for a quick break and Jin found you "so you're doing amazing!" he said and you rolled your eyes "we both know I choked on that segment". "Not at all!" he said "you were just a bit stiff but that's to be expected, that's why we're having this run-through. Plus you know all your lines and have a good memory so it can only get more natural". "Here's hoping!" you said. The rest of rehearsal was pretty much the same. You were fine with your lines it was just your delivery that went out of the window whenever Dahyun looked at you. Jin drove you home afterwards and Moonbyul was waiting for you in the garden, pretending that she wasn't. She prodded a plant and then hurried over "so how did it go?". "I'll tell you, if you can tell me what that plant's called" you said and she paused "erm a succulent?". "You totally just guessed!" you said but Moonbyul just smiled "I got it right so pay up". So you and Jin sat in the garden and you sighed. "It wasn't good" you said and Jin shook his head "Y/n was a little nervous and keeps beating herself up about it" he told Moonbyul and then explained what happened. "That's not bad!" Moonbyul said when you told her about messing up with Dahyun and you shook your head "I forgot I was speaking to the Queen of lesbians and the most confident bisexual in the world" you said and Moonbyul and Jun bowed respectively, quite pleased with their titles. "But seriously Y/n it's not bad, as Jin said it's your first rehearsal! Nobody expected you to be completely charismatic and I bet so many pairs were the same". You shook your head but Jin interrupted "they were Y/n you were just so in your own head you thought you were the only awkward one". "I just hope Dahyun didn't notice or take it personally" you said and again both your friends shook their heads. "Please she's so nice and was all smiles when you left" Jin said and then he turned to Moonbyul "she even asked Y/n for her number". "Only so we can practice" you said and Moonbyul shot you a smirk making you sigh but you couldn't resist a small laugh and that made the others laugh too. The laughing alerted your members you were back and they all came to ask you how it went. After your talk with Jin and Moonbyul, your perspective changed a little and you shrugged "it was...okay I guess" which made everyone smile. A few days later Dahyun herself texted you! She asked how you were and if you wanted to meet up to practice one evening this week. Your members all encouraged you to go and so you found yourself heading over to the Twice house to meet with your crush. Dahyun opened the door with her signature big smile and your first thought was she looked amazing even when she was just dressed casually! She was wearing white jogging bottoms and a brown top but looked so pretty and you wondered how someone looked this good when they weren't trying. Dahyun ushered you in with a hug "come in! It's so good to see you" she said and you wondered if she was always this happy and positive. "You too!" you said "I've got my script and I brought some snacks" you said holding up the bag of snacks you'd spent an hour choosing in the supermarket with Hwasa who was ready to strangle you by the end of it. "That's so sweet!" Dahyun cried "you're so wonderful" and she took your hand and led you into the house where some of her members were sat. "Hey everyone this is Y/n" she called and everyone turned to look at you. You were acutely aware of Dahyun's hand on your arm and everyone's eyes on you but managed a smile "hi everyone thanks for letting me come over". "Of course" Nayeon said "Dahyun said rehearsal went really well because you were so organised". You blushed "Oh I'm not sure about that". "Hadn't you already memorised all your lines?" Momo asked and you shrugged "mostly". "See that's the idea MC partner!" Sana said and Jihyo smiled "I know what do you even need to practice? I bet Dahyun just invited you here for fun" and several of the girls laughed so you joined in. "Okay well we're going to head into the living room and practice" Dahyun said grabbing some drinks from the fridge and pulling you away. "Your members are nice" you said and Dahyun smiled as a sigh escaped her "they're embarrassing but yes nice, right so should we get to it?". You practised all afternoon and it actually got easier to look at Dahyun's beautiful face! You still got a flutter in your stomach anytime she touched your arm but you weren't as disabilitated and could smile and say your line. It was actually getting easier with each try and by the time you broke for food, you were able to joke back a little with Dahyun! You couldn't believe it and were so excited to tell everyone. You and Dahyun rehearsed a few more times before the event finally arrived! Despite pretty much having your sections down you were nervous and just wanted to get tonight over with. You didn't even register what the stylists had given you to wear and just smiled as the girls complimented you. It was only when Dahyun gushed over you that you took in the compliments. "Wow you look beautiful!" you heard Dahyun say and turned around to see who she was speaking to. "Me?" you asked and she laughed "yes of course you, the gorgeous girl in the stunning dress". That made you go bright red and you stammered for a while before thanking her and returning the compliment. "You look beautiful of course but you always do" you said and then went pink again. Dahyun smiled "aww you're so sweet to say that, how are you feeling about tonight?". "Nervous" you admitted and Dahyun nodded "yeah me too". "Really?" you asked and when Dahyun looked you, you looked down "I just meant you always seem so confident and never seem to get nervous". Dahyun shook her head "I've got a good poker face" and you suddenly felt quite protective over her. You had friends who were good at blagging their way through things and acting like they were okay and hated how they never received any help. You'd always been unable to hide your emotions and got a lot of support...so you wanted to do that for someone else. You turned to Dahyun and gently linked arms "well it's like you said, we've got each other and we can get through this together. I'm here for you". Dahyun stared at you for a few seconds and you worried you should've asked before touching her and she was upset but then she smiled. "That's so sweet Y/n thank you" she said "I'm really glad I got to work with you on this" and you nodded "me too...I mean work with you! Not me of course!". Dahyun smiled and nodded "of course, ready to go kill it?" as the managers started gesturing to you both it was time to get ready. You nodded and with more confidence than you felt cried "let's do this!". The night passed in a blur of emotions. You felt everything from intense anxiety when your queue to go out on stage was called, to humour as you watched Jin do his bit, to pride as you closed the show with Dahyun when another duo couldn't be found. You actually couldn't believe you'd gotten through it and told Dahyun that as she hugged you, "I knew you could do it" she told you and you blinked "how? You clearly know me better than I know myself". She shrugged "we're always harder on ourselves but I've seen what you're capable of Y/n and you're a beautiful badass powerful woman!". "I couldn't have done it without you!" you told her "you were amazing Dahyun and I've always admired you. What I said earlier I wasn't being nice, I think you're incredible!". You were so caught up in the adrenaline of successfully finishing a show you were bolder than usual and you noticed Dahyun blush a little but didn't berate yourself for your words. "Wow to hear someone like you say that..." Dahyun said "I'm a little overwhelmed". You patted her arm "don't worry you don't have to say anything back" and Dahyun nodded when she was suddenly attacked. A swarm of girls descended on her and you jumped before realising it was Twice. You smiled as the girls all hugged and congratulated her and when Dahyun started chatting to them you backed up and went to find your own group. They all demanded you go out to celebrate and you agreed heading to the afterparty. "I saw you with Dahyun" Wheein smiled "was there something going on there?". You blushed "I confessed a little to her" you admitted and all four girls, who had clearly been eavesdropping, screamed. You told them to calm down but they hyped you up so much that when you did see Dahyun later you were expecting something to happen...but she seemed content with her friends and stayed away from you. As time passed, the buzz faded but still Dahyun hadn't said anything to you. You'd passed her earlier on the corridor too but she hadn't seen you apparently and didn’t make eye contact with you. So you were starting to think you'd done something wrong and Jin caught your expression "no that's the Y/n is overthinking stuff expression!" he said and you sighed and explained everything to him. Jin privately agreed that sounded odd but wasn't going to tell you that. "She's probably just stunned from tonight or tired but either way we don't know and sitting here stressing isn't going to do anything so that's not what we're going to do" Jin said and before you could ask what he meant he yanked you upwards. You protested all the way to the dancefloor but couldn't say no to Jin and soon found yourself dancing with Jin and then Exo as he pulled Chanyeol over. Jin supplied you with alcohol to keep you buzzed and after a while, you felt better again. Dahyun made your night but Jin saved it. You didn't hear from Dahyun after that night and it did hurt a little. While you hadn't confessed your feelings to her you had been more upfront with her than you ever thought possible so her silence was a slight blow. You tried not to think about Dahyun but it was hard, especially working in the same industry. You saw her or heard a Twice song at pretty much every Kpop event and finally came face to face with her a month later at the sporting event Isac.

You realised Dahyun would be at the event but still paused as you saw her. You'd told yourself you were over her now she'd unofficially rejected you but then you saw her smile and knew you still had feelings for her. Still, you told yourself to just keep moving forwards and with time your feelings for her would dim. So you kept to yourself and went about your business. You were quite athletic and managed to win a few races and the Moomoos were amazing cheering for you. You were just coming back from one of your races when a conductor asked you to wait before going across the track to sit down. You promised you'd wait and turned to watch the race when you heard a small commotion. You heard laughing and turned your head to see Dahyun standing up and facing away from the track. She was moving her arms around in weird shapes and you wondered what she was doing when you realised Dahyun was commanding the onces in the stands. Any direction she moved her arms in they followed with her light stick and she was loving it. You found her so cute and couldn't help but stare. Many other idols were also watching her and her members looked a mix of embarrassed and amused. You definitely found it funny and were smiling without even realising it. Then Dahyun suddenly turned and looked at you. You looked down embarrassed you'd been caught but when you looked back up Dahyun was still looking at you. She shot you a big smile and waved you over. You froze and asked "me?" and Dahyun laughed before nodding "of course!". Dahyun quickly took your arm and pulled you beside her "Come try it, it's so fun!" she said. Luckily moomoos were right next to onces so you copied Dahyun and the Moomoos copied you. It was actually quite fun! You could do anything and they'd copy you. You did some random movements you thought would be amusing and then started to do the opposite of Dahyun so the onces and moomoos were going in different directions. Dahyun noticed and started going faster so you had to speed up too. You didn't even have time to notice how cute she was! The two of you carried on competing, getting faster and faster until suddenly a starting gun went off and you both jumped. "The race has started" Sana explained and you and Dahyun both laughed because you'd forgotten there were even races. "I guess we should behave then" Dahyun said and she pulled you towards the seats, the Twice seats! You looked over at your members wondering if you could really just sit with Twice but nobody batted an eyelid as Dahyun pulled you to sit next to her. "Thanks for Indulging me" Dahyun said and you smiled "thanks for inviting me. It was fun". Dahyun smiled back and then turned to watch the race. You were sat rather close together and you could feel her hair brush your arm anytime she turned. It made you indescribably happy for some reason and for a second you got the instinct to put your arm around her! You shook the thought from your head and moved away from her a little. You couldn't let your feelings make you do something reckless and had to be on your guard around Dahyun. Literally as you were thinking that, Dahyun suddenly turned to you with a smile. "so how have you been?" she asked "it's been way too long, it's a month this weekend since our partnership together" she said and you nodded surprised she remembered. "I've been good" you said and she smiled "I saw you winning all the races, how many medals do you have?" she asked looking at the array on your chest. "Only three" you said and Dahyun sighed "I don't even have one! I kept getting beaten". You paused "oh well you can have one of mine if you want?". Dahyun's face completely changed and she shook her head "oh no I wasn't fishing for one I promise". "No it's fine" you said getting the strong urge to make her happy like last time. Dahyun hesitated but when she saw you were serious she took the medal from you and smiled at you "you're so good to me". You blushed and struggled to speak "I just want you to be happy" and Dahyun beamed. "Well I always am around you" she said and she pulled you closer to her and linked arms. You were slightly taller and Dahyun hesitated to lean against you but you moved your head so she could lean against you and she actually leaned into you! Dahyun stayed nestled against you for 30 minutes until you all had to move. Even then you walked together and Dahyun kept looking at you with such a happy expression on her face. It made you wonder if the past month's worrying had all been for nothing and you wondered why Dahyun hadn't been in contact with you if she did like you. You didn't ask her though and when she queued up with Twice you waved to her and said goodbye. You went over to your members who had very wide smiles on their faces and completely missed that they were wearing the same expressions as Dahyun's members. After that, you didn't really see Dahyun and then the event ended. You didn't mind though. You were really happy with the interaction you had and were still glowing from Dahyun grabbing your arm. So you were slightly in a daze as you waited for your car but you heard giggling and then suddenly felt someone tug your hand "Hey Y/n, we're going to this restaurant downtown to celebrate Nayeon hosting" Dahyun said "it's really nice and we've booked the place out. Would you like to come? You can bring your members too!". You blinked at having her smiley beautiful face so close to yours but smiled back instinctively. "We'd love to!" you agreed and then looked at your members "sorry I just answered for us all". Solar smiled "no you're right, we'd love to". Dahyun nodded to them and then looked at you "that's great, I'll text you the details and we'll see you there then". "You got it!" you replied and Dahyun squeezed your arm before moving away. When you arrive Twice were already there but they rushed to greet you. The girls were so friendly and you found yourself sitting next to Dahyun with Nayeon on your other side and Sana across from you. "So Y/n Dahyun tells us you're super hard working" Sana said "have you always just had amazing work ethic?". You paused "hmm not always. At school I used to get in trouble for not trying hard enough because I can be super efficient and hard-working but only for things or people I care about". For some reason Nayeon and Sana smiled widely when they heard that response and Dahyun coughed and changed the subject. "Did you know Sana got that scar from trying to grab meat too quickly?" Dahyun said and you looked from her to Sana and then to the scar. You smiled "I've done that too" and pointed to one on your forearm "but mine was pizza" and Sana grinned "great minds think alike...or act alike" she said "you know what I mean" and you nodded with a smile. "So Y/n do you have any pets?" Nayeon asked "Dahyun loves animals!". You nodded "I do too but I don't have any pets at the moment because I don't think it'd be fair to them. But I had a golden retriever growing up and I cuddle her every time I go home. She has the cutest puppy eyes, I can never say no to someone with cute eyes and I think it's because of her". Again Nayeon and Sana smiled and a thought occurred to you. "You've got a dog right? Ari?" you asked Dahyun and she smiled "yes how did you remember that?". "Because you told it me" you said confused why Dahyun thought you wouldn't remember and Sana made a high-pitched noise before Nayeon hit her. You thought she was choking and quickly passed her some water. "Are you okay?" you asked after she'd drank some and she nodded "yes thank you!". You turned back to Dahyun who was still smiling "so how is Ari?" you asked and Dahyun smiled "he's good, I've got some photos if you want to see them?". "Yes!" you said and leaned in to look at them. Once again missing the glances from pretty much everyone at the table. After you'd all eaten everyone started milling around drinking, dancing etc and it was nice. You chatted to Jhnyo and Tzuyu whom you hadn't really spoken to before and every time Dahyuun saw you she'd shoot you a big smile. Jihyo caught her doing it and laughed as you blushed. "She's so sweet" you said "I think she knows I'm not the most social person so she keeps shooting me reassuring smiles encouraging me" you explained. "Oh is that why she can't take her eyes off you?" Jihyo asked and Tzuyu smiled. You paused at Jihyo's tone and smiled "yeah at least I think that's why she's watching me...why do I have something on my face?". "No, you look beautiful Y/n" Tzuyu said and Jihyo nodded "exactly so we can't blame Dahyun for admitting you" and you went bright pink. Dahyun quickly realised if any of her members would be bold enough to confess for her it'd be Jihyo so she quickly nipped this conversation in the bud and managed to get you alone. As she walked away Jihyo mouthed "tell her" with thumbs up and Tzuyu nodded making Dahyun feel all fluttery because that was the signal that you liked her! Dahyun led you to an area outside where none of the girls were around and sighed. "Y/n I've got something to ask you and I hope you keep an open mind" Dahyun said and you nodded "okay. Whatever it is, I'm here for you". Dahyun smiled and nodded "okay well here goes...I like you". You immediately went bright pink and looked away which Dahyun hoped was a good sign. "I like you too" you said casually, trying to deflect the situation and Dahyun was tempted to pretend it was as friends but knew her members would kill her so soldiered on. "No Y/n I mean as more than friends, I have a crush on you" she said and your jaw dropped "what? Seriously?". Dahyun nodded "yeah and I thought I was so obvious!". "No you weren't" you said "I mean I'd hoped you'd liked me but I never thought you actually did" you said and Dahyuun smiled "so you return my feelings?". You nodded and Dahyun went to step closer when you froze. "Wait are you sure? What about all of last month when you ignored me? Did I do something wrong?". "No it's not that it's just...I thought you and Jin were together". "Jin from BTS?" you asked shocked and Dahyun laughed "yeah that one". "Why?" you asked and Dahyun shrugged "I guess just because you two seemed really close. You were together a lot in rehearsals, I saw you two come together and how he hugged you outside, and then you just seemed physically close as in you weren't scared to put an arm around one another or whisper and I guess I just misread the situation" Dahyun said "but you're not dating?". "God no!" you said before pausing "sorry that seems rude, Jin's lovely just I'm very gay and he's a guy". Dahyun smiled "yeah that makes sense" and you blushed at how pretty her smile was. "It's also a really big relief to hear you say that" she admitted "I thought there might be something between us but I got scared and then when I saw you dancing with Jin at the afterparty I thought you must be together. That's why I took a step back, I didn't want to get hurt but I didn't stop thinking about you". Once again you were stunned because your situations were so similar and you told Dahyun that. "No way!" she cried "wow we were just meant to be huh?" she asked. Hot Dahyun did make you feel weak at the knees but you remembered her comment about having a great poker face and reminded yourself she was all bark no bite. "I think we are" you said gently touching her waist and pulling her close "do you think it's finally time to kiss you?". Dahyun's confident mask faltered and her eyes widened as she nodded. This time she stammered before nodding "yes, please...I mean I don't mean please but you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to" she said flustered. "No I want to" you told her and showed her. After the kiss Dahyun rested against you, her arms wrapped around you. "I know I act really confident but that all melts away around you" she admitted "I can't act cool around you". You smiled "yes you can, you've been doing it the whole time! But I appreciate what you're saying, you give me a reason to be more confident...to defend you. Not that you need protecting or anything just I want to always be there for you". Dahyun went to speak and a weird noise came out of her mouth making her eyes widen in panic but you burst out laughing. This made Dahyun laugh too and you were soon in stitches. The girls came to investigate what was going on and found you clutching each other trying to stop laughing. "Dahyun is everything good?" Jeongyeon asked and Dahyun "everythings great" and took your hand. The room exploded at that and Dahyun buried her head in your shoulder giggling at the chaos she'd caused. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" you asked and she nodded "yeah a little bit, they've been telling me to ask you out for ages". You nodded "my members have been doing the same. I feel like we should get presents for finally doing it". "You're the only present I need" Dahyun said and you both laughed at her line. "Smooth" you said "can I expect more of this suave sophisticated flirting machine?" you asked and Dahyun nodded "oh yeah, you're stuck with me now" and you smiled "I can't think of anything better".

______________

My first Twice imagine! This all came from my crush on Dahyun because being funny and not caring what others think is so attractive!

I also think Jin and Moonbyul would be such a funny duo and the best friends to have.

FYI - I took creative liberty with Moonbyul and Jin’s sexualities and I hope it goes without saying I’m not claiming they are those sexualities. Just there is nothing wrong with being bisexual or a lesbian and I always aim to have my work as diverse as possible. There is no evidence they’re not gay and so I decided to imagine they were. That’s it.

Hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request any other female idols you’d like to see more of!

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thesiridahl · 1 year

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What do you miss about traditional porn production after the rise of Onlyfans???

There’s way more that I don’t miss. The widespread popularity & success of OnlyFans has democratized the adult industry in ways that I couldn’t have imagined 10 years ago.

As a performer, having the ability to sell my content directly to my fans (with a 20% cut of the pre-tax total going to OF to run the site and process payments) has made a massive difference in my ability to make a life and a future for myself in the adult industry.

In some ways, the industry has been turned on its head. In 2013, things were relatively top-down: I’d wait for the phone to ring, or a text from a director who wanted to hire me for a scene. The rates I could reasonably charge for my work were lower. I didn’t have a talent agent, but if I did, it would've been the same, except the agent would have arranged those bookings and taken a 10-25% cut of my scene rate.

Scene rates were lower for performers 10 years ago. A high-end average would be $600-800 for a girl/girl (non-penetrative sex scene, if you don’t count fingers or dildos 😉) and $800-1000 for a boy/girl (penetrative sex) scene. All of that income is pre-tax, since models in our industry are almost exclusively paid as 1099 contractors. (If you’re unfamiliar, that means Federal, State, and local taxes are not collected when we’re paid out by the companies we contract with, so we have to keep accurate records of our income throughout the year and then pay a huge chunk of money in taxes at the end of the year. Or quarterly, if you’re fancy.)

Scene rates never changed much with inflation. Rates were determined by what studios were willing to pay performers, not by what performers wanted to actually be paid. The only way to increase your rate was to just become more famous. But after OF came along and models started seeing their true worth — how much more they can make selling their own content directly — it started to change the industry in some very big, positive ways.

For example: If a model with a relatively large following on OF films a sex scene that costs $1000 to produce (wardrobe, makeup, hiring a photographer/videographer, editing), sells it for $15 and 400 fans buy it on OF within the first month it’s released, after OF takes their cut of 20%, she just netted $4000 on that scene before taxes. And she owns the content and can continue selling it basically forever. $4000 is a scene rate that no studio would pay a performer for a sex scene, unless it’s something kinda nuts, like an 8-guy gang bang with double anal.

If you wanted to net $16k of pre-tax income per month, what would you rather do? Film a double anal gang bang every week, and have to do that every month for reliable income — or film four regular ass sex scenes (regular-ass sex, not regular ass-sex, although I do highly recommend both) with your real-life partner every month, that you can resell infinitely, while in the comfort of your home, living in a city that's way more affordable than Los Angeles?

These days, I know of performers who've never worked on a studio set, but took years building a loyal audience on OnlyFans and similar sites, and when they’re approached by a studio like Brazzers to shoot a boy/girl scene, they can truthfully declare that it’s not worth their time to even set foot on a studio set for less than a $4000 scene rate. Yes, this is an extreme example and not at all indicative of what the average model earns on OnlyFans, but it’s an important example to illustrate the impact of sites like OF on the power structures of the industry. Models being less dependent on studio work is very good for us, the models.

Since I came out of retirement in 2020 and started depending on my own content sales to make a living, I’ve raised my rates for studio performances, as most of us have. That’s the biggest positive change for me, personally — not having to depend on studio work anymore. When you see my face in an AdultTime or Brazzers scene, it’s because I have happily chosen to work with that company, I’m being paid the rate I asked for, and I’m thrilled to grow my fan base by appearing on a studio site with a wider reach than my own.

That’s how a lot of us treat studio work these days: It’s not a primary source of income. It’s a way for us to advertise our own brand as creators, and hopefully gain some new fans who are interested in subscribing on OF and supporting us directly.

To get to your actual question, yes, there are downsides. While OF and similar sites have democratized (one might even say… SOCIALIZED! ☭ ) the industry, it’s also caused a certain degree of decentralization, and that’s not always great.

One component of the adult industry in particular (specifically the American, mostly LA-and-Las-Vegas-based industry, because to be honest IDK what the heck goes on in other countries) requires at least some centralization to function properly.

I'm referring to our STI testing protocol: Industry testing clinics report to a common database called PASS, operated by our industry’s nonprofit trade association, the Free Speech Coalition (FSC). The database obscures personal details like legal names, but shows a cleared-to-work or not-cleared-to-work status, verifying that the performer has a valid test which is less than 14 days old and shows a negative result for all STIs.

These testing clinics aren’t just any old Quest Diagnostics location — they’re operated by private companies which exclusively service the adult industry, and use the most sensitive tests possible for early and accurate detection of STIs.

The database also functions as a contact-tracing system. In the event that a performer tests positive for something, the database is an indispensable tool for notifying other performers who were exposed, isolating the incident, and halting production within that group of exposed performers until they can all be treated (for those STIs for which an effective treatment exists) and retest with a negative result.

In fact, our database is so effective that early in the COVID-19 pandemic, it was held up as an example of an effective contact-tracing system. It’s the reason our industry was better prepared than most to handle our response to the pandemic — we already had a functional, reliable testing system in place.

But the testing system is only effective if all of our industry’s performers respect and participate in it. And of course, you don’t need to live Los Angeles or Las Vegas to be making your own porn and selling it on OnlyFans. During the pandemic, we all saw the news articles about the explosion of new users on OF, many of them content creators.

It’s one thing if you’re a monogamous couple only fucking each other on camera for your OF content, but it’s entirely different if you’re a model who’s never worked in studio porn or even heard of the PASS database, you live 2000 miles from LA, and you’re producing dozens of scenes a month with different sex partners. Then we have a problem. We don’t know how that model is getting tested, or if they are at all, or who they worked with — so if the model or any of their scene partners tests positive, there’s no record of the positive result and no contact tracing. And if they work with another person who travels to LA, and spreads the STI into the performer pool there, now they’ve put the health and livelihoods of hundreds of other porn performers at risk.

I’ve heard enough stories from my peers to know that this does happen. I have seen Twitter rants from amateur OF creators who don’t value the testing protocol and complain that getting tested every 14 days is too expensive. (Currently, the cost of a full performer panel is close to $600/month, if you test every 14 days. We would all love to see more affordable performer panels, and it’s very much an active discussion in the industry. PASS also offers a testing subsidy for performers, funded by many corporate and individual donors, which helps buffer the cost of testing). They’ll say things like “It’s fine, I’m only shooting with my close friends, and we trust each other.”

They're sorely mistaken. Following the testing protocol is not a burden, it's a non-negotiable requirement for being a performer in this industry. Chlamydia, gonorrhea and syphilis don’t give a shit who you "trust," and neither do the folks who want to shut down our entire industry and make us and our jobs nonexistent.

The adult industry is notoriously insular and defensive for good reason. We’re heavily stigmatized and often it feels like we’re hanging onto our legality and legitimacy by a thread, because we are.

Compared to 10 years ago, there are many more vocal opponents of the porn industry now, and a lot of those critics and antis have way, way more money and power and influence than any single person or corporation in the adult industry. So yeah, the last thing we need is some content-creating doofus in Tightsqueeze, Virginia (yes that's a real place look it up*) coming along to compromise the testing system our industry has relied on for 20+ years, and making us all look bad.

It’s Missouri Senator Josh Hawley’s reactionary Christian wet dream to be able to point a finger at a site like OnlyFans and say, “Look at all these young people indiscriminately profiting from their homemade porn, and look at how many of them got an STI from their immoral behavior! They’re spreading disease, and the entire porn industry needs to be made illegal!”

Josh Hawley has never said those exact words, but he could, and he would be more correct than his actual argument against the porn industry, which is that we’re all child groomers. (Do I need to say here that we’re obviously not? My own fans don’t expect me to actually acknowledge that ridiculous argument, right?)

In a perfect world, every content creator who has sex on camera would be working with a valid 14-day test from a clinic that reports to the PASS database. But it’s unrealistic to expect perfect awareness and participation from every single spicy content creator, and if that did suddenly happen overnight, the testing clinics would be flooded with thousands more patients than they’re prepared to handle.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t all try to do better. Personally, I think our industry needs to be a little less insular, and more willing to accommodate and educate newcomers about how we keep ourselves safe and legal ‘round here. And we definitely need a wider network of testing clinics, so that people who don't live in LA or Vegas have an easier time participating in the testing protocol.

From an anti-porn outsider’s point of view, the OF model who lives in Bumfuck, Ohio is just as much a part of the porn industry as Riley Reid or Angela White. We’re all just evil, diseased, child-grooming sinners to them. OnlyFans has done a great deal to help democratize the industry, but I think we still need a little more socialism, in the form of workers helping workers, educating each other and standing together to defend our ability to make a living safely and legally.

*Footnote: I don't actually know if there are any OF content creators in Tightsqueeze, VA. I just googled and picked a funny town name. But if a content creator who literally lives there reads this, and you want to get tested and shoot content with me, holler at ya girl, I'm only an 8 hour drive away.

#onlyf@nz #writers on tumblr #0nlyf?ns #questions #response #inbox #siridahl #siri dahl #adult industry

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oddbunny · 2 months

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Found this Gael interview from 2006 in the comments section on another interview. Accidental rabbit hole.

2006 New York Post interview:

It's not for nothing that Gael Garcia Bernal was twice cast as revolutionary Che Guavara. The Mexican actor is as charismatic as he is outspoken - especially when it comes to issues concerning his native country.

He's also responsible for some serious box-office magic back home: 2001's "Y Tu Mama Tambien" was the biggest opening weekend ever for a Mexican film, and 2002's "The Crime of Father Amaro" was the most successful Mexican film in history (and possibly the most controversial - he played a secretly non-celibate Catholic priest).

Bernal is currently starring in director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's "Babel," alongside Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, and was recently seen riding a stop-motion stuffed horse in Michel Gondry's fantastical film "The Science of Sleep."

Q: Mexican directors are hot right now. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu made waves with "Amores Perros" and "21 Grams." Alfonso Cuaron did it with "Y Tu Mama Tambien." Is Mexico becoming a center for film?

A: There's definitely a worldwide sense that Mexican cinema is pretty big, or a bit "in fashion," right now. Latin cinema as a whole, really. There's this rebirth feeling. But this is nothing, for what the country deserves - Mexico is a country of 100 million people. The year "Amores Perros" was made, there were only six films made there! And this year, it's 65. So there's been a big increase.

But unfortunately, in Mexico, it's harder to make a movie, to even contemplate the idea of directing a film - not many people have the opportunity. I'm sure people from the mountains in Oaxaca find it so far away [from their reality] to do a film. And at the same time, it's exactly those kinds of voices that you want to hear.

If I had to stick with one reason why films matter, it's that: getting to know the "other," and finding that the other is not so different than you are. That's what I think of when I feel like I don't want to make movies anymore.

Q: You have moments when you want to get out of movies?

A: Yeah, I mean, sometimes you feel unprepared, you feel untalented, like you're doing something you don't like, or that you're just doing it terribly. Or you don't like the industrial side. But at the end of the day, there is always that thing. I want to do films because I am an audience first, and films have made me know more about the other - and that the other doesn't exist, really.

Q: Which is one of the points of "Babel." But some people, like the busload of U.S. and British tourists, come across worse than others, don't they?

A: Well, there's two points of view about this movie - you can see that, OK, the people from the U.S. are portrayed as scared people, really worried about health and dirt. But you can also see the other side: Why are the ones that die always from poor countries? We are always the ones that die.

Q: Your character in "Babel" makes pretty bad decisions after he's stopped by an aggressive cop at the U.S.-Mexican border. Have you, or someone you know, ever experienced anything like that?

A: My character makes a bad mistake in a drunken state. But yeah, when you're Mexican, it's a bit of a situation. You have to apply three months before, and it costs $80 for the visa. Sometimes you have to show bank statements to show you're earning money, you're not coming to the U.S. to work. It's kind of stupid - as if money was a sign of honesty, or goodwill. It's a rite of humiliation. They act as if you are coming here to steal.

Q: Is it easier for you to avoid this than most, though?

A: No, no - the last time I crossed the border, walking, I was asked, "Where do you come from?" And I'm like, "Well, I'm from Mexico." And they say, "No, where do you come from?" And I say, "I come from Mexico." I mean, what am I supposed to explain? And they say, "What were you doing in Mexico?" And I say, "Well, I live there." And they say, "No, but what were you doing right before you came here?"

I'm not gonna answer that. Because - you know, what do you care? We're radicalizing the process of integration, and that's terrible. Because it's going backward in time. But it's not just the U.S.'s fault - Mexico is shamefully not providing a place for people to work and live properly. It's everyone's fault.

Q: Did that experience make you want to avoid the U.S.?

A: No. I mean, we share the same territory! But Bush just signed off on the law to start building a wall. It's the second biggest wall that's ever going to be built, it's going to rival the Great Wall of China. And it costs so much money, and so much human resources. Maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but it's kind of ridiculous to build a wall. Walls are always destroyed eventually.

Q: Aside from acting, your production company organizes a worldwide traveling documentary film festival, Ambulante. Are you planning the 2007 festival yet?

A: Yeah, it's happening in 18 cities, on commercial screens, with a big chain - for half-price! Very cheap, it's like $2. And we're going to get together some 15-20 films, divided into three sections. One section we're calling "Dictator's Cut," which is about censorship. For one of those, we're showing both the "official" version and the real one; the rest are already restored, but some of them were completely not shown. It's very exciting.

Q: Your role in Michel Gondry's "The Science of Sleep" was one of your least political roles - was it fun to cut loose and just be weird?

A: It was great, it was a joy to act in. I had a lot of fun doing it. I think not many people have seen it here. Maybe because it was done in France? I mean, it's got good numbers, but still, I wish it would be much more.

There is still this myth - like, for example, I saw the trailer for [Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro's upcoming film] "Pan's Labyrinth," and they don't show you it's in Spanish. You never see a character speaking. I just think that's cheating, you know?

If they actually tell me that there's this weird Iranian love story - I want to see it, because it's in Iran. If it's about a love story in Florida, well, I've seen that before. I'm interested in the further-away, the more surprising.

Q: Do you ever worry that people will take you less seriously because of your looks?

A: [Laughs] No - there are prettier boys than me.

#gael garcia bernal #gael garcía bernal #interviews #2006 #there are few prettier boys gael you are wrong lol

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gyuarchives · 11 months

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day & night | a choi yeonjun oneshot.

sypnosis: Relationship or career? a pivotal decision that every successful person has to make someday. With a very promising career as a leader in the performance director team, Yeonjun takes a big leap in deciding that it would be best to leave the country, and you behind to expand his work. Was it the best decision? Of course not. But he hopes that someday, he can come running back to you and beg for forgiveness.

genre: angst, sad breakup, no happy ending (sorry), gn!reader

warnings: none i think!

word count: 1.4k words

note: inspired by Day and Night - Jung Seung Hwan (Start-up OST)! I recommend you listen to it while reading. You can also listen to Wave To Earth Songs like 'love.' and 'seasons' to fit the mood. see you at the end :)

y/n's pov

It was pouring on a Friday night. You looked below your window to watch young adults prancing around the street with their friends and loved ones, having the time of their lives as bars and clubs are starting to open their business for the night. You wished you could be there with your friends too, but here you are, too busy cooped up in your own little apartment, with the only heat that brought warmth to your aching, cold heart.

You sighed. Did you regret missing out on a fun night? Maybe. But it wasn't worth risking the likelihood of you getting pissed drunk wailing about how your ex-boyfriend broke up with you in the most meanest of ways.

'im sorry, im doing this for us.'

The last text he ever sent. To leave you behind. To leave the promising future of a young budding relationship behind.

Your cat pounced on your lap as you sat on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table.

"Jjunie baby, i'm sorry, I have to change your name soon. I hope you don't mind that. he won't be coming home anymore too. guess we are not good enough for him to stay.." you talked with 'jjunie', as you quietly start to tear up again.

Jjunie was your first cat you adopted with him. He claimed her as a promise ring to you; a promise that he wanted to grow old with Jjunie and you.

"Why my name? No no! It should be a combination of our name- y/n hey~!" he tried to convince and stop you from writing down the adopted cat's name as his nickname, as you saw that it deemed fit to name a cat. Of course, he couldn't stop the excited you from penning it down. He looked over at you with joy, and gratitude over how he got someone like you.

"I love you so much," he whispered just enough for himself to hear and mean it. Taking your free hand, rubbing it in reassurance that he had your back in whatever you wanted to do.

You loved every part of him; from his passion in pursing his career as leading his own performance team, his structured facial features, his talent in composing songs and covering songs just as good as the original artists, and more that would be just an endless list of reasons for why you never see yourself with anyone else but him.

Alas, he didn't feel the same when work interfered with the two of you.

"Can't we just please work it out? I'm sure there's something. Yeonjun, please."

"Y/n, I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but I have to go.. I can't leave this chance behind.. long-distance won't work on us.. just, make sure you stay healthy, yeah? don't forget about about jjunie.... bye, y/n."

He held you again one last time, embracing your warm hug that you were able to give him for the past 2 years together.

You couldn't stop him from pursuing his career and what he wants to do. So, there you were, alone. You decided to take out the vlog camera that you both shared to document the memories of 2 whole years when you were together. You started rolling.

"i can't say that I miss you, but everytime the feelings get overwhelming, you're there in my mind.. Is this a punishment for my wrongdoings? I'm sorry I pushed you away at times. I didn't mean to. Ha.. remember how we met? That Tuesday when I bumped into you in my favourite cafe. You ordered my favourite drink and sat at the window seat 2 years ago. You couldn't stop staring at me, you were so cute being so shy. That has yet to leave my mind as days passed. But the last time i saw you.. you looked at me, mellow…almost pale. I'm sorry if i wasn't enough. And thank you for everything. It was truly love, but at the wrong timing."

---

yeonjun's pov

"You alright?"

I looked away from the window, realising that I was still at the restaurant with my new dance team members.

"Yeah yeah, sorry, got a lot in my mind right now."

"That's alright man, relax a little! Come, let's drink tonight!"

I really don't want to.

Drinking used to be your favourite thing to do when you have nothing to do with your partner. Sometimes it might lead to a little more, but that's something you share personally with y/n.

Finally, after dreading the whole dinner, some had to be pulled out literally from their seats to get back home, but fortunately for you, they were all settled and the team members urged their team leader to go home; and so you did just that.

Empty. Quiet. Nothing but the sound of your shuffling footsteps to settle down in your new house for the next few years.

What's the point of having a house when I can't call it my home.

Sighing for the nth time, not caring if doing so will make your face get more wrinkles. You decided that maybe unpacking might be helpful to get your mind off of things. From the couch, you reached out for the nearest box, which became the most horrible decisions you have made, aside from breaking up from your most promising partner you ever had in your life.

The box was filled with things that symbolised every memory you shared with them. Pictures from dates you still vividly remember, because you cherish each time you get to meet the love of your life; cute plush toys that you used to win for each other. Rummaging through most of the things, your hand caught the most valuable item out of everything; a small box that held, an actual silver promise ring. You closed it quickly to avoid your tears from staining any part of the precious item, something you didn't get the chance to give before it all ended. You loudly sobbed in your own arms, feeling full of regret and guilt, wishing you didn't had to do that and stayed with them instead.

You came across your shared digital camera, that you bought with y/n to record your lives in your own perspective. Sometimes you two edit it and post it on YouTube for memories sake. And for the last time, you pressed the main button and recorded a parting message.

"Y/n, my beautiful lover. my person who shines so bright next to me. my person who was once everything to me. I am.. so sorry. Have you been well? Is Jjunie well? I hope he's eating a lot with you. It's been a few weeks and things still, hasn't changed. My performances are going well but, I can't help but miss you every fucking day.

Walking down the streets alone after burning the midnight oil reminds me of us walking home from classes during our school days, you complaining and ranting about your workload and being thankful about me being there with you. My side feels so cold now. Your hugs are the only thing that can warm me up like the sun on the last day of winter. You used to say I'm your teddy bear everytime. 'You really are my teddy bear. When I'm having a hard time, I can hug you, and you can hug me with your warmest hugs! You better not share it with anyone else!' Trust me y/n, I haven't been. I too have my hardships, but I choose not to tell you, for I worry more about you than anything else, including myself. Your hugs, cuddles, random acts of kindness even as small as giving me pieces of paper you tore from your notebook with words of encouragement on them, all of them gave me hope. If only you knew I still keep everything you gave me. I still order your favourite drink at cafes here, and sit at the window seat like you always loved. I somehow still smell you from some of my shirts. Even my things miss you too.

See this box? This box holds a secret that only I know. I hope one day, when I'm done, when I can finally hug you again once more, I can share the secret with you, and it will be ours. I know I left you abruptly, but please, if im not asking for much, please wait for me. This box and I, will wait for you too. I love you, y/n."

You stopped recording as tears continue to stream down your face.

---

a/n: the ending sounds like i can continue from there...hm... but no promises! let me know how this story made you feel, any suggestions/requests, im happy to take them all~! thank you for reading <;3

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jujumin-translates · 4 months

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Event | Act 3.5 Event - NEW ERA GARDEN | Chapter 9

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Reni: Seems like you’re finally ready to put an end to things and face me.

Yukio: Ah, yes, well… is that okay?

Reni: Why don’t you just say what you want to say? I’ve already hit you with everything I had.

Yukio: Say what you want to say, huh… I don’t really have anything like that to say, but…

Reni: Liar. Hurry up already. Or are you planning on downing some whiskey right off the bat?

Yukio: Waah, okay, okay!

Yukio: …I think Zen-san was the one who figured it out. Actually, I was a little afraid, too.

Yukio: Afraid that you and I would have a fight like back then.

Yukio: Whenever we disagree in the practice room, I can’t help but feel like we’re back in the old days.

Yukio: If we continue on like this, our paths won’t be able to cross again. We’ll just drift apart again.

Yukio: Because I’m just not an actor like you say I am, Reni, no matter how hard I try.

Reni: …

Reni: You may not have changed, but I have. I am much more patient than I was back then. It’s not the same.

Yukio: I know that, but… that’s just how traumatic it was for me back then.

Yukio: I don’t want to mess up the start of the New Fleur Award. I want to make sure it’s a success.

Yukio: Even back then, I really, truly wanted to work with you at a theater company, Reni--.

Reni: I wanted that too.

Reni: …You’re overall too self-conscious. Do you really still think I want you on stage as an actor?

Reni: GOD-za has also grown. Don’t you think there are many actors better than you there?

Yukio: Haha, I see. I guess you’re right. Maybe I’ve been the one stuck in the past.

Reni: …Well, I’ve long since given up on being an actor, but one thing I’d like to do came to me today.

Yukio: ?

Reni: You’ve been telling me this ever since back then, to the point where I’ve grown sick of hearing it…

Reni: Do you remember the phrase, “I want to make each actor bloom in their ‘own’ way”?

Yukio: I do.

Reni: I’ve only recently begun to understand that as I’ve become a director and started creating plays with younger actors.

Yukio: Really!? That’s quite the change… I feel like I’m getting left behind. I’m the only one who hasn’t grown up, huh?

Reni: That’s why I want to have a thorough discussion about Okita Souji for this performance. We only have a few days left to finish things.

Reni: Tell me what you’re looking for-- tell me what you’re looking for in Reni Kamikizaka’s Okita Souji, tell me how you’re going to make him bloom.

Reni: Of course, I get a say in things too.

Yukio: So this is going to turn into a fight, after all, huh?

Reni: Wouldn’t that call for whiskey, then? It’s not a fight. It’s just a discussion.

Yukio: Right.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Staff: The equipment check went okay.

Syu: We’re ready to go over here too.

Hiro: It’s about time.

Zen: It ain’t every day that you get to have an opening day at a theater with no audience.

Yuzo: Well, there is one person.

Izumi: …

Yukio: Sorry, my daughter is the only one who gets special treatment…

Yuzo: You’ve caused a lot of trouble. She deserves a front-row seat for your comeback.

Yukio: I’m going to go talk to her.

*Footsteps*

Kasumi: Well then, before the show begins, how about we get a few words from the chairperson!?

Hiro: What is this? An interview?

Syu: …During our one-on-one drinking session, Yukio told me the reason why I got the lead role this time.

Syu: He said he’s relieved that I’m the one who hasn’t changed the most since back then.

Zen: Huh.

Kasumi: So am I just old now…!?

Yuzo: Nah, we’re all old now.

Hiro: Yuzu will never change, so we don’t have to worry about him.

Yuzo: Somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment.

Syu: Well, that’s why we can understand what Yukio wants and what he fears for this performance.

Syu: I’m sure that deep down, he wants something that will never change.

Syu: An impossible fantasy, an ideal, a dream of eternity that we old people can’t believe in… Yukio wants that, but he can’t say it.

Kasumi: Now that you mention it, Yukio-san doesn’t use words like ‘forever’ or ‘everlasting’ very often…

Syu: I think he can’t wish it away because of his separation from Reiji.

Zen: He always thought the troupe members would leave eventually.

Hiro: I mean, the first generation MANKAI Company did turn out to be exactly what Yukio thought it’d be.

Syu: We grew old in the exact same way. Maybe it’s because the future is shorter now than it was back then that we can see what’s ahead now.

Hiro: …Let’s reassure, Yukio.

Kasumi: …Yeah.

Yuzo: Let’s show him somethin’ he won’t be able to believe.

Syu: Let’s let him be the one to say it.

Zen: Yeah, he’s the one who started it.

Staff: …Five minutes until showtime!

Syu: …We’re the flowers he made bloom.

Syu: That’s why “only on blooming days, the blossom scatter”.

*Buzzer sounds*

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #yukio tachibana #reni kamikizaka #yuzo kashima #kasumi hinamori #hiro hyuga #zen kuryu #syu otomiya

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elisysd · 1 year

Text

Tolerate It – Taylor Swift

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Trigger warning: toxic relationship / mention of revenge porn and eating disorder.

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Five years ago – Vancouver

Lyanna looks everywhere, trying to register every single detail her gaze feal upon. It’s her first day on the set of Fire and Blood. She’s already met her castmates and rehearsed with them but being here, with all the lights and cameras, all the people working behind the scenes to make the magic happen: it amazes her. She is like a kid in stores around Christmas time.

Playing Laura Emmet, a young girl who is supposed to be human but has a few special abilities, is going to be her big break she can feel it. She is so excited to start filming.

Fast forward to four months later and it’s a wrap on season one of Fire and Blood. All the cast members as well as the directors and some people from the team are in a nice restaurant to celebrate. They all laugh together and it’s overall like a big family. Lyanna is talking and joking with Amy Holland who plays her best friend in the series and James Barton wo plays her love interest. She has a crush on him, ever since they met when they had their chemistry test during the auditioning process. She is a little tipsy but not enough to make the first move. Amy, who knows perfectly what is going on in her friend’s head, pulls her aside.

“Come on girl, just go for it! You’re so obvious.”

“Well not enough apparently, he didn’t try anything. Maybe he is just not interested.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try!”

And indeed she tries.

Fire and Blood is a tremendous success. Beyond what could have been expected. Lyanna and James quickly become Hollywood’s new favorite couple. They are so in love it’s sickening. They are this couple who loves posting pictures of each other, who are doing everything together all the time and for a lot of people, they are the physical embodiment of soulmates. Everyone is sure they are endgame. And Lyanna thinks so too. She is eighteen, James is twenty. He is most of her first times. First serious relationship, first time, first person she wants to call when something good or bad happens to her. He quicky became her whole world to the point she isolated herself from her friends and family. Everything revolves around James.

She loves waking up in the morning with him by her side. She loves going to work with him. Working on season two of Fire and Blood is a lot of pressure. The expectations are high but Lyanna doesn’t care, she has her boyfriend, the love of er life by her side. Nothing can go wrong. They are dating for almost a year now and nothing has changed, they love each other just like the first day. At least, that’s wat she feels. She noticed some slight changes in James’ behavior: like he gets jealous more often, especially since she seems to get more attention from the fans and the media and sometimes, he feels left out. But Lyanna still thinks it’s cute: his jealousy. It shows that he cares for her.

They are celebrating the wrap up of Fire and Blood season 2 in the same restaurant where they did or the first season. But the atmosphere is not the same. Lyanna got a big proposition to be the new face of Dior. She was so excited to announce it to James. But unfortunately his enthusiasm doesn’t match hers. They are fighting outside the restaurant and Lyanna is crying. She doesn’t understand.

“You do realise that this means that you are going to attend a lot of events with them and for them. And did you think about me? About our relationship? You should have told me.”

“That’s what I’m doing, James…”

“No. You’re informing me. You’ve already made up your mind. And that’s fucking selfish. You are throwing away a year and a half of our relationship. And for what? To play the Barbie to a fucking luxury brand?”

“It’s an amazing opportunity James.”

“You know what else is an opportunity, Lyanna? Me going to see other girls. They are a lot of them tonight. Why should I stay with you when at the first chance you get you leave me. I can do the same. Many girls are throwing themselves at me and because I love you and respect you, I always refuse. But why should I, hum, when you are acting selfish?”

She ended up turning down Dior. She loves James more than a stupid contract. She doesn’t want to lose him. To avoid the history repeating itself like its fateful night, now every single thing she wants to do, she asks him first. Because in her mind that’s what a good girlfriend is supposed to do. And just like that she is isolating herself even more, to the point where even her family has a hard time reaching her. They tried to warn her about James, that the relationship wasn’t healthy, that she should leave him. They are scared for her. But Lyanna loves him too much. Her family doesn’t know him like she does, they have no right to judge him. So she started to answer their phone calls less and less.

3 years ago – London

They bought an apartment in London. In fact, it’s James that bought it for them. It was a big step in the relationship but since they were already together pretty much every day, all day, it just make things official. She is almost twenty one and she is still so in love. But lately she noticed that James is drifting away. One day she saw the models that he was liking on Instagram and wen she confronted him about it, he simply said:

“Yeah well, I like the way they look. It doesn’t mean anything. If you feel insecure because of that that’s not my problem Lyanna.”

She was naïve and she desperately wanted to have his attention. Just like it was at the beginning when he could not keep his hands to himself around her and was whispering sweet nothings in her ear every chances he got. So she started to exercise more and eat less. A few months later she was only a shell of what she used to be.

And still it was not enough.

The final blow came a late September. She was out to meet her agent who wanted to have a very boring talk about her salary expectations for the season three of Fire and Blood. She was going to have a raise. It made her happy but her part of her was dreading to announce it to James, not knowing how he would react to her now being paid more than him.

But nothing could have prepared her to what she saw when she stepped inside their shared appartement. When she opens the door, what immediately hits her is the smell of bacon coming rom the kitchen. What could be perceived as a nice surprise makes her, in reality, feel sick in the stomach. James is vegan and she hates bacon, something that he knows perfectly well.

It's when she approaches the kitchen that her worst fears are confirmed. A young woman is standing in front of the oven, only wearing a tee-shirt, one Lyanna knows all too well well since she bought it for James’s birthday two years ago. Her hair are wet, she used the shower. She is to stunned to speak, her brain trying to process the information. She finally makes a move when the door of the bedroom opens and James comes out, wearing only comfy pants, his hair wet as well. That’s the extra push she needs to finally speak.

“Am I interrupting something?”

It startles the two cheaters.

“Lyanna? Fuck, I thought your meeting would run for way longer.”

“I bet you did. Who is your guest? Care to introduce me.”

“No need, the blond girl finally speak totally unbothered. You’re James’s girlfriend.”

“So you do know he has a girlfriend.”

“Alice, can you leave us please.”

The so-called Alice exits the room before picking up her stuff and leaving the place not without miming to James to call her.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“Don’t play stupid James! How long are you cheating on me for?”

He remains calm as Lyanna starts to feel tears rolling down her cheeks wile James was looking down on her, not even remorseful.

“Come on Lyanna, you can’t seriously think that I would stay faithful to you? I’m twenty three, I’m young, I’m famous, I’m rich and I’m good looking, you can’t expect me to stay loyal to you. Not when there are so many opportunities around me.”

“You could have just broken up with me instead of throwing away three years of my life. I love you James… I can’t believe it. That’s not you, that’s not the man I fell in love with.”

“And I loved you. At some point I guess when we started dating. But wat I once felt for you died a long time ago.”

“Why did you stay then? Explain it to me!”

“Because it made us look good. People love us together. They are stupid enough to buy our perfect couple story. If I broke up with you, it’s a loose -loose for both of us Lyanna. You really think that you can exist on your own? List me one time where you made the headline on your own. Where I wasn’t being mentioned. You can’t. People don’t like Lyanna Michel on her own. They like James Barton and Lyanna Michel, the power couple. If you sink, I sink too.”

“You are wrong.”

Her voice is broken, she is holding back so as not to break down in front of him. His words are cruel, his gaze cold and his face inexpressive.

“I missed so many opportunities because I believed your words, because I didn’t want to lose you, because I trusted you. I lost friends, I barely speak to my family. All that because I thought that you loved me and because I wanted to spend my life with you. I thought they could not understand. I protected you. And for what? What do I have left?”

“Well too bad for you. I never asked you to do those things. It’s all your fault Lyanna if you are alone now.”

She couldn't bear to stay another minute in that bloody flat. She stomps off to the bedroom, takes out a suitcase and stuffs a few things into it. She has to leave. To where? She has no idea, but she has to get away from here. Away from him.

“Where are you going? You can’t seriously think of leaving?”

“Oh yes, I can. I won’t stay here wit you. We’re done James. Forever.”

Her words seems to shake him. His gaze hardens and he grabs her violently by the elbow as she walks through the bedroom door, dragging her suitcase as best she can.

“If you go through that door, you'll regret it, Lyanna. I'm not joking, I’ll make you life like hell. You think you can just leave me, after everything I've given you? This flat? It's mine, you've got nowhere else to go. What about shooting the show? Have you thought about that? Do you really want to throw it all away over a domestic quarrel?”

“I'm going to tell the truth, to the production team, to my agent, to the press if I have to, but I'm not going to let you manipulate me. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

She pulled away from him and went through the door.

When James said that he would make her life like hell, she did not believe him. But she quickly changes her mind when she gets a phone call from her agent early in the morning, a few weeks later.

“Pictures leaked in the press Lya.”

“What pictures?”

“Intimate ones.”

It takes her a while to understand what that means. And then she made the mistake of opening her social networks. Her private messages are flooded with insults. Photos of her in compromising positions jump out at her. She just doesn't get it. She doesn't know where they're coming from. She's never taken any. She explained this to her agent, who replied that she was doing her best to minimise the damage. And the more she looks at the photos, the more she understands. She recognises James's flat. Could he have been vicious enough to take photos of her without her knowing? It seems perverse and sick and twisted and wrong, but after all, does she really know him? She wonders.

And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, a video surfaced. A video of her and James having sex. And the media machine goes into overdrive. Radio, television, newspapers, social networks, they're all having a field day making her out to be something she's not. A slut. The comments are making her sick. It's violent. She can no longer leave her house without being mobbed by the paparazzi. She feels guilty. How could she not realise that she was being filmed without her knowledge or consent? Shame overwhelms her. And soon her agent tells her that season three of Fire and Bood will be the last. Faced with the scale of the scandal, the channel decided to cancel it. What had made her the happiest woman in the world three years ago turns into a nightmare. She dreads the day when she has to return to filming.

As expected, the shoot was hellish. The atmosphere is tense and it's no surprise to anyone when the critics come out and describe the final season as a shipwreck. It can't be any other way when the two main actors can't be in the same room as each other. James barely spoke to her, just to ask if she'd had a good few months since the break-up and if she'd enjoyed his little surprise.

That year, Lyanna is a shadow of her former self. She barely eats or goes out. All the unwanted attention she receives gnawed at her insides. So she disappeared. She closes her social networks and leaves London to return to France, to her mother's house, to recover. As the months goes by, she steps away from Hollywood to concentrate on smaller projects that don't attract many people to the cinemas, but that allows her to regain confidence in herself and in her work.

So when Steven Spielberg contacts her agent to offer her a role in his next film, Lyanna hesitates. She isn't keen on returning to the violence of the business, and is terrified at the thought of doing it all over again. But her passion for art takes over and she can't refuse. Who would say no to Steven Spielberg?

But her experiences have taught her one thing: she will never again let a man be so important in her life. And never again will she go out with someone famous. It's nothing but trouble. As for trusting anyone, never again. She would rather be alone than badly accompanied.

And then Monaco arrived. And with it, a neighbour she finds hard to stay away from.

==========

taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #fiction #writing #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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destinyc1020 · 1 month

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"I just wish Tom had some autonomy from Spiderman, his girlfriend (Zendaya), and other Marvel-related stuff.... Like, can fans just have stuff related to just HIM??"

This is why I like your blog compared to others. You get it. The others can't help themselves. The only other time I've seen this is with Justin and Selena and Brad Pitt and his two relationships. I think the issue is how Tom got popular. He used to be on social media and it was related to Marvel, his friendship/secret relationship with Zendaya, and him joking around with his male friends and costars. People used to watch his stuff like a reality show.

Like Tom said once, he's kind of a walking meme now and I don't know how he gets out of it other than to keep pushing it with his non-Marvel work and hopefully get something else that's recognized as successful. It pisses me off daily how people go out of their way to not recognize his successful work. "It was before Marvel." "It was streaming only." "It was just voice work." But if it's anyone else doing the same work, they'll find a way to talk about it in a good light. Most people won't even recognize that Onward was Oscar nominated but if it's Puss in Boots, it suddenly counts as valid work for that celebrity voice cast. That's my rambling rant.

Thanks Anon 🥰

And yea, I don't want ppl getting the wrong idea... I LOVE Tom's privilege of being able to work with Marvel and be in such large films from such a young age. He struck gold early on in his career, and it's afforded him a lot of free space. He should be proud!

I also LOVE his relationship with Zendaya, and I think they're cute as a button together! ❤️ 🥰

I just wish that Tom had more autonomy outside of those things. Even Z has fan accounts dedicated to JUST HER on tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, etc. But with Tom, it's almost like, if it's not related to Spiderman, Marvel, or "Tomdaya" the couple, then it's almost like people don't care to really start an account about him. 😟

Maybe you're right, maybe it is the way he got famous? 🤔

Anyway, it's just a minor complaint. It's just smthg I've noticed and picked up on.

I do feel like people seem to undermine his work, even though it's GOOD work!

Idk what will change that in the future, but I do feel like he should just keep pushing through with non-spidey related work and just keep picking good scripts, directors, and actors to work with. ☺️

I really do think that once he hangs up the spandex for good, we will probably see a LOT of changes.

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nanowrimo · 1 year

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A Fond Farewell to NaNoWriMo Technical Director Dave Beck

We’ve got some truly bittersweet news: after almost 10 years as NaNoWriMo’s Technical Director, Dave Beck is moving on. Dave joined NaNoWriMo in 2014 and since then has overseen all things site and tech-related for NaNoWriMo and Young Writers Program. In addition to his considerable technical skills, Dave is a true Renaissance man with a remarkable range of skills, interests, and hobbies. Thanks to Dave and our other long-time Software Developer, Jezra Lickter, both our websites are currently in very stable places for this transition.

Before we say goodbye, Dave shares some thoughts about his time at NaNo:

Q: What are some of your proudest achievements at NaNoWriMo?

I’d say it’s the redevelopment of the Young Writers Program website, which started in 2015. The first version of the website didn’t have many participants. I worked with Marya and Chris [Angotti] for the redesign. However, the biggest risk was creating a writing space for the kids. This feature did not exist before, so we built it from scratch. When we first launched it, 40% of the kids were writing on the site. The number is still going up. It’s 84% at the moment. I didn’t expect it to be this successful. Last time I looked, 20 billion words were written! The second achievement: we haven’t lost a single word ever since the writing space was created. It was very important to me that we did not lose any of the kids’ novels.

In general, the YWP site was the most fun.

Q: What are some of your fondest NaNoWriMo memories?

The design is the best part. Not the coding itself, but deciding what things we should do and how to get there. When you figure out a design and then develop it, it’s very satisfying when it works well.

It’s also fun being able to creatively collaborate with people, especially with the YWP. I’ll miss Marya and Jezra a great deal, it was very productive.

Q: Tell us about one of your NaNoWriMo novels.

I’ve never won NaNoWriMo! Not even close to it. The closest I’ve gotten is 5k. It was a nonfiction book about ADHD. The funny thing is, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. But I didn’t want to write books! I just wanted to be F. Scott Fitzgerald and go to cocktail parties. I do NaNo every year though. It helps me understand the website and see if everything is working as it should be. So instead of writing, I see the problems and go and fix them.

Q: Fun fact about you that people might not know?

I’m a veteran career changer. I’m leaving programming and coding to become a winemaker. Before this, I was an attorney. I’m still a member of the California Bar actually. I was also a reporter for the LA Press, a fancy sous chef in Boston, and an exhibit designer at the San Francisco science museum.

If you can’t tell, I have ADHD. I liked this job the most since it’s so complicated being a full stack developer. It works well with ADHD because I’m constantly switching what I’m doing.

Q: Are coding and noveling at all the same?? Inquiring minds want to know.

A little bit? There is an element to understanding narrative within a code. You want to understand the order and how the code does certain things. It’s kind of like plotting a novel.

Designing code is also a creative process. But the coding itself shouldn’t be, which is the biggest difference. Coding is standardized so it won’t cause problems, especially when multiple people are working on the code.

With novel writing, you can do whatever you want. You can even break rules to prove a point. You don’t want to do that with coding or you break the whole thing!

Q: What will you miss/not miss the most at NaNo?

I’ll miss the creative relationships I had with Marya and Jezra. It’s interesting and fun work. NaNoWriMo also had a lot of creative lunches before COVID. Once, we all created our own cocktails!

I won’t miss how sometimes, it feels like I’m reinventing the same wheel over and over. For example, we’re trying to refine the system that makes challenges for existing novels. It’s still not completely working right in the way we want it to be, so we end up spending a lot of time on it. It’s like Sisyphus. You think you’ve finally completed something and then we’re back at the bottom of the hill.

Q: Any advice for a developer working at NaNoWriMo, or any aspiring tech developers?

Learn all seven parts of full stack developing as fast as possible. You will need it. Rely heavily on Jezra too. He knows a lot.

For aspiring tech developers, you should only spend 10% of your time actually coding. The other 90% of your time should be spent planning, scoping, and user testing. One of my issues is jumping into a code without a plan, which leads into problems I could have avoided. You should plan for things ahead of time. It’s like scoping your whole novel before writing words down. I’m a pantser coder which isn’t necessarily the best thing.

Q: Since you’re so fond of the YWP site, how about advice for any young writers?

Think for yourselves and write what you want to write. If it’s what you’re interested in, you’ll have fun.

Interested in learning more about open positions at NaNoWriMo? Sign up here to be notified of job postings. Just as we celebrate the diversity of our creative community, we want our staff to reflect that same spirit of inclusion, and we will encourage candidates of all races, genders, cultures, class and educational backgrounds, abilities, and orientations to apply.

#nanowrimo #writing #coding #tech dev #interview #by nano hq #dave beck

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herrlindemann · 1 year

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Metal Hammer - March 1999

Rammstein has recently been the subject of ever-higher jets of flame. Shoes off and put the position of the band.

The last few months have left a lot of room for wild thoughts (irrational) journeys about an allegedly right-wing image of the band. In the conversation, Richard Kruspe and manager Emu were open to discussion and also self-critical. Manager Emu didn't have a controlling function in this case, but reflects the band, and thus he became part of this interview. Since there are certainly fans among you who are interested in topics other than the discussion about the clip for 'Stripped', the following pages also deal with the experiences of the recently completed Family Values tour with Korn, Orga, Ice Cube , Limp Bizkit and a preview of the new record.

Richard: The two months in the US felt like half a year. In order to be able to eat properly during the tour, we took a cook with us this time. As a result, all the bands sat in our catering area.

Were you able to expand your newcomer bonus and become the surprise act of the festival?

Richard: In the beginning there was a problem with the order, because we were supposed to appear second after Orgy. In America, concerts start relatively early, but people come relatively late, and we didn't want to play in front of 300 people.

Emu: There were alternatives up for debate: We could have expected 3,000 people on our own headlining tour.

Richard: Ultimately, the request came because they wanted an exciting festival, not because they like us particularly well. Anyway, they offered us the post-Korn position as co-headliners. As a result, the other bands were pissed off and distant too. We ended up playing by Korn and within a week the response from the musicians was that it was okay and we deserved the spot. Except for the couple of Korn fans chained in the front row, we had the feeling that we had convinced the audience at every concert.

How important is the Grammy nomination for ‘Du hast’ to you?

Richard: I was emotionally touched like in a few moments. It's a real recognition because producers, musicians and radio stations are interviewed for this. We're also pleased that bands like Rage Against The Machine, Marilyn Manson, Rob Halford or Dave Groll generally admit to being Rammstein fans.

Do you see yourself in a league with the nominated bands, including Metallica?

Richard: Yes. But I only know Metallica, Judas Priest and Rage Against The Machine.

Now there were tears that our most successful piece of music is hanging around in America.

Richard: I understand a certain jealousy, but if you want to please everyone, you need copies. It's like when you have five wives, the one you date first is the most jealous. But we're staying in Germany, and I was happy to be back here after two months.

Do you personally like the 'Stripped' video with Leni Riefenstahl's recordings?

Richard: Yes. When we spoke to our director back then, the basic idea was 'sport'. At the second meeting he brought a demo with these same recordings to show us what he has in mind. We spontaneously decided to do it.

Wasn't there an internal discussion?

Emu: We were expecting the record company to say it wasn't possible. Our only turning point was one day when we looked at Russian footage from the same period to see if it would work. It hasn't. There are a few plays by other directors in there, but otherwise we left it with Leni Riefenstahl.

Richard: Maybe we reacted so spontaneously because it's a piece of memory from our childhood.

Can you understand that people react sensitively?

Richard: Yes, but what I don't understand is that on the one hand they are enthusiastic about it, but on the other hand they are influenced by the opinion that is made in the media. That means the first reaction is "Oh, nice ", and when they hear that it's Leni Reifenstahl, they make a face. We used images from a sports film, not Triumph of the Will.

Emu: People asked me where we got the thousand gymnasts from. When they found out about Riefenstahl and were told who she was, they said " You can't do that ".

But you knew her before.

Richard: As an artist yes, but she wasn't in my life like she is today. I'm reading her biography right now.

Emu: In Denmark, art students look at her works as a lesson. Then we don't have to stand there and explain what attraction that has.

Witt says that someone with talent had to come to terms with the Third Reich.

Richard: It's not about good or bad, it's about their art. But of course I can't condone the fact that she let Hitler blind her.

Emu: After the Wall came down, friends with whom you made music told you that they were Stasi agents.

Richard: One also forgives…

Emu: Many from the West mobilized against former SED people. There's a willingness in me to defend when people arrive who haven't seen it. I've heard a lot of speculation about Leni Riefenstahl, especially the question of whether she slept with Hitler, far more often than the statement "that's the seduction of power ". There's only one artist I've heard more speculation about, and that's Rammstein. For example that the 'Stripped' clip was produced for the American market. It wasn't even released in the US.

If I were you, I would be less bothered by the articles by Spiegel or Rolling Stone, but more by the meanwhile negative reactions of the fans.

Richard: That's not true.

But we get corresponding letters from the editor. People want to sell their Rammstein collection.

Richard: Really? Rammstein is a phenomenon, discussions about it have already broken friendships, but that can only mean that you know a little more afterwards.

Emu: A friend of ours has a small independent cinema. When he came to a joint meeting of the cinema operators with the Rammstein hat, they wanted to exclude him. So it can also go to the existential. The 'Stripped' video is being used as evidence to prove what has been floating around in the media for a long time.

You are blamed for providing the image of German that America wants to see.

Richard: What picture do we deliver? We often had to answer the question of whether we were gay there; but none came about “German” and “Nazi”. ‘Du hast’, the video that ran in the US, is a gangster story. They like the music. But I can now understand the attitude of people who say you should be more sensitive, although I still think the video is beautiful and aesthetic. Art has something to do with spontaneity, emotion and naivety. If you always weigh everything, only boring things come out.

Do you make sure in the future that you don't give this image any additional nourishment?

Richard: We want to continue to choose quality.

And when art and sensitivity face each other again?

Richard: That's when you start circumcising yourself. But of course there is a moral limit that runs right there that I would have rejected making 'Triumph des Willens', no question. But 'Olympia' has to do with sports aesthetics.

If you can understand it, does that also weigh on your conscience?

Richard: Yes, yes. Till, our singer, also has problems with it and is really depressed. When you keep hearing accusations that aren't true, it hurts too. I used to have blonde rastas and made funky music, now I'm thinking about situations that are completely unfamiliar to me: What if I want to go to a club and the bouncer says to me: "You can't come in here, you right pig! ».

Where do you want to start?

Richard: By showing people that you can also make art with other means. We want to let people know that Rammstein will always innovate...

If you don't want to be deterred, you have to make yourself independent of the opinions of others, right?

Richard: It really takes self-confidence and a thick skin.

At least you seem to have the former.

Richard: It seems that way, doesn't it?

Absolutely. So are you the speaker?

Richard: That's not true. It's actually very well divided apart from Till. We didn't want to follow the record company line that singers have to do interviews. The musicians know a lot more about sound, while the singer is limited to writing lyrics and can't talk about some musical things at all.

Are you a bit afraid of the next record yourself?

Richard: It's like Christmas when you have a gift and you don't know if you like it. On the one hand I notice that I'm repeating myself and I'm enthusiastic about it because I realize that this is Rammstein. On the other hand, of course, something new has to be added. I approach it conservatively, a riff, a rhythm, a melody, and when it then harmonizes with the text, freshness should be brought in, like the modern electronics in Sehnsucht. Since I wrote the second record more or less by myself, I would also like the others to contribute more musically. It's never good trying to please someone. I recently spoke to a producer who said you have to keep your instincts and follow them. Then all you have to do is concentrate. I write two to three hours every day and confidence is related to how successful I am, whether I had a good idea and wrote something good. If nothing happens for two or three days, I'm also very, very small.

Is Till now thinking twice about his texts, or is there even a reappraisal of things?

Richard: I find his lyrics so apolitical that he doesn't have to think about it. It's poetry. I hope he tries to stay away from it. If Till would work that out, people wouldn't understand it at all. Kraftwerk were partly condemned too, but if this band had made an anti-fascist song, it wouldn't have fitted. Just as little as with Rammstein.

Emu: We cannot justify what never happened. In order to keep the influence within limits, we have now canceled the clipping service so that all the articles are no longer lying around in the office and you read everything all the time. That's enough.

Richard: We're not closing ourselves off to information. According to the saying "Resist the beginnings " we think about it. In America I even made a wrong decision because I'm so insecure and sensitized. I had a fan kicked out who was always throwing his right arm forward. He didn't do anything, just went along with the music.

Hasn't something broken for you lately from the magic, the dream of being successful?

Richard: The better known you are, the lonelier you get. But I can't do something completely different right now. As long as I can take it, I'll keep going. You can tell that you can compensate for all these stories and your personal sacrifices with music. Maybe our situation can be compared to when you play a song in the rehearsal room. You like it, go out, play it in front of people fifty times until you realize there's no response. But you have to get to that point first. The reactions to 'Stripped' are similar. You have to admit that you may have made a mistake. You haven't managed to get it understood. A communication difficulty between bathroom and fan. Maybe it's a piece of history that we live out, others don't see it that way. It was also a cover version, I'm not sure if we would have put it on our own song.

Is there anything new for your fans?

Richard: We are working on a new stage show. It's hard to separate from fire. Water would be great, but that is very difficult to achieve.

Emu: We're thinking of a combination with neon.

In the beginning every hard German band had to be measured against you musically, now everyone justifies that they are not Nazis...

Richard: Yes, soon they won't be able to hear the name Rammstein anymore.

#Rammstein #Richard Kruspe #Emanuel Fialik #Till Lindemann #Flake #Paul Landers #Christoph Schneider #Oliver Riedel #1999 #*scans #translation #well #If Till can't talk about the music you sure can't talk about the lyrics #and the journalists are more interest by the lyrics than the music so...#Richard says some stupid things at time...#and sure you wrote the second album yourself...#*

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