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inloveforlokius · 3 months

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hey, I wrote a Oneshot of an Oc of mine and Gil Pender

English is not my native language, in fact I am Brazilian. I will post the original version in Portuguese too but for now stick with the English version. There will probably be errors in the English language because I put most of the things for Google Translate to do in English (Don't judge me, I'm still newbie at this).

Previously: Gil, on one of his trips to Paris in the 1920s, met a young attendant at a local cafe from the 20s who was walking along the narrow river Seine, known as Julye.

(the oc is of legal age)

Word count: 2611 words.

the denial of living in the present ♡

Gil Pender is an idiot man from Pasadena, California, in the United States and is about to marry an authoritarian preppy named Inez.

Since Gil got engaged to Inez, he has been having frequent panic attacks. He never understood the real meaning of his attacks, however, he thought it must be something about the book he was writing or his work as a Hollywood screenwriter.

Gil and Inez visited and stayed at a hotel in Paris.

The reason for this was that as Inêz's parents had done important business, the couple stayed for a while to enjoy the ride.

Inez was a beautiful and very intelligent woman, but she and her fiancé had almost nothing in common, the two were completely opposite people and not at all indifferent, Gil was always passionate about literature and the 20s, and dreamed of living in the City of Light after the wedding, more precisely in the rain as he told his fiancee, and he was willing to give up all his work as a screenwriter to become a writer, however, Inez wanted to live in Malibu, in the hot sand of California, after the wedding.

And although Gil loved his future wife there was something that made him feel out of place about her. Even when she had defended him from her own parents who criticized Gil about his illusions about politics and his choices.

But something happened as the couple's time in Paris went on.

In the blink of an eye, the two moved apart drastically, and of course the reason could have been that Inez had had a super crush since college on a man called Paul Bates, a kind of dashing gentleman who was going to give a lecture nearby. from Paris, And she stayed with this guy for a few nights in the meantime that Gil was taking his nightly "walks" to get even more inspired when he was going to write his romance.

However, Gil had no idea that she had kept the stupid pendant.

But Gil also had his secrets, for example: whenever (or almost every day) that Inez wanted to stay late somewhere with her parents or with Paul and Carol, he would always leave early and walk the streets of Paris until midnight and he did that instead of going to the Hotel Bristol where the two stayed waiting for Inez to return.

And when the clock struck midnight, a vintage car from the 1920s always passed by as if it were a taxi from the time and Gil always got into it because it would mean that he had gone to the year 1920, the year where he dreamed of living for so long. , it was a dream to be in Paris at that time where there were so many incredible artists and writers that he couldn't even describe, it was so spectacular.

And there he met the illustrious and talented F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Salvador Dali, Luis Boňuel, Man Ray, Ernest Hemingway and TS Eliot.

Gertrude Stein even read and evaluated the book that Gil Pender was finishing and it made his heart almost stop working with excitement.

EDuring these trips to 1920, Gil met a beautiful young girl, Adriana, he seemed to have liked or loved this young woman very much. She was known to be a prostitute and former lover of Picasso himself, but unfortunately, he himself realized that she was fascinated to other things like the golden age and I couldn't stop her from getting lost in another era trying desperately to fill her feeling of loneliness and emptiness.

Just like he did, but he would never admit it.

Gil discovered that Inez was probably cheating on him with Paul shortly after he returned to 2010 and he thought about this possibility with the help of words from one of his conversations with some of the best writers of the 1920s.

When he had the courage and discussed it with Inez, she simply admitted it after a while, causing the two to break up, as well as belittling him by calling him crazy, sick, among others.

Now, Gil no longer had Adriana, who lost her to the golden age, nor his ex-fiancée who left.

He was left ungrounded, confused, displaced but still free.

And now he was more anxious than ever walking around at 2 am in Paris in the 20th century...he knew he shouldn't be in another century trying desperately to escape all his morbid sadness that hit him like daggers in the back but therefore he he still couldn't stay definitively in 2010 knowing that he could live what he so longed to have.

He walked and walked while it was raining heavily on the narrow Seine River, he saw a young woman who made his eyes go a little wide and wide and made his heart flutter a little.

The beautiful lady was without any means of protection against the rain like Gil. She was wearing a loose and short black dress made of silk with satin gloves and black heels, she looked like she had just left a ball at that time, she had beautiful light blonde hair in the style of an almost classic Bob. like Marilyn Monroe.

The lady looks at Gil, seeing the man in a gray suit and red tie there looking at her fascinated, she approached him and spoke without hesitation, her voice was soft and sweet, as if it were a beautiful melody from Cole Porter's classic songs.

-Bonjour, you are lost? - she says looking at Gil, still unsure about the man.

- hey! Yes, I mean, no. -Gil says no with a fake, high-pitched laugh at the end of the sentence.

The woman nodded and turned to leave, but she stopped when she heard the man's voice again.

- Excuse me but are you American? - He asked hesitating while breathing faster. "What the hell got into you?" he mentally asked himself.

- no, I'm just a random Parisian but I learned to speak American English a few years ago - the woman smiles slightly, her red lipstick stands out on her adorable face .

- Could I know your name? - Gil asked, he had his hands in the pockets of the black dress pants he was wearing as he asked.

- well...my name is Julye, and would you be it? - Julye looks at him a little confused, the rain started to get thicker making the lady cross her arms and look down.

- oh, my name is Gil Pender - he speaks awkwardly and sees that Julye was bothered by the rain that had gotten heavier, he then went to her and guided her gentlemanly to under the bridge.

He was always taught by his mother to be a good gentleman, so he lightly puts his arm around Julye as they walk under the bridge out of the rain, she still looks at him suspiciously but with a hint of gratitude in her eyes. almost cyan blue.

- Oh, I'm sorry, I just wanted to make you less uncomfortable in this rain - Gil says, trying to clarify his intentions.

- Should I say thank you? - Julye says smiling sarcastically.

- I don't think it's necessary and if I may, why are you wearing that dress? It's cold today in Paris, you could catch a cold - Gil says with an air of doubt because although the woman looked stunning in the dress he didn't see the point in wearing it on this specific night.

- oh..well, I was in a bar before it started raining with Zelda and Scott - she says raising her face up to look at Gil, she was shorter than him.

-Zelda and Scott? Like the Fitzgeralds?

-Yes, themselves, do you know them? - Julye says looking into Gil's eyes when he asked.

- Yes! Yes, I've been out with them twice and I really admire Scott - he remembered, he was in 1920! He couldn't say how good Scott and Zelda were as if he were talking to someone in 2010 - but, well, on that note, what does a woman like you do?

-I'm an attendant at a local coffee shop, you should visit there, I work from nine in the morning to six in the afternoon - Julye says while looking away from Gil.

Gil blushed, the pretty girl invited him to go to the cafe where she works in such an adorable way? Yes, and it left him like a little pepper. Between that, he knew he could never go, especially because he only has access to Paris in the twentieth century from midnight to dawn... that is, he could never see it in his daily life.

- Thank you for the invitation, I will certainly go to the cafe - he says lying, The two then walked to a local bar out of the rain and in the meantime they talked about various things and Gil even forgot about his sadness about his and Inez's separation.

When the two arrived in front of the bar but didn't go in and instead they sat on a bench where the rain didn't hit and continued talking, and so much time passed that Julye ended up sleeping with her head on Gil's chest.

And certainly, Gil loved it and even stroked her hair while she slept. When he realized that it was going to dawn, he placed the lady on a bench and laid her down gently and placed his jacket on her, he left and as he walked through the streets, he realized that he had gone back to 2010, he looked back at that same place but he didn't even know. There was more bench, it was replaced by a large pole and the bar was now a jewelry store.

He gave a weak smile and sighed deeply - I'll see you again, I promise, Julye.

And so he did. Every day after midnight he goes back to 1920 just to look for the woman, he even knew her address so he could go to her house.

They talked about everything, Gil talked to Julye about cognitive actions and the fear of death that everyone has and at the end of the night, he always ends up leaving or sleeping on his shoulder. They understood each other, they talked about everything, literature, arts, artists, the future, their personal lives and more.

Julye didn't understand why Gil didn't want to see her during the day, they are friends and friends see each other during the day, she thought, so why is that?

On one of Gil's trips to 1920, he found Julye in a square near the elfiel tower. He hugged her and greeted her.

- Julye! It's good to see you - he says sweetly and smiles at her.

- Bonjour, Gil... - she says, leaving the hug, her eyes made it seem like she was in a dilemma.

- what happened? You look thrilled - Gil puts his hand on her shoulder and his face had such a softness that it would easily make someone tell him what he was hiding.

-I don't understand you sometimes. You say we are friends but we never meet during the day and you always disappear and then pretend that none of this happened... why is that? - Julye says a little angry and sad at the same time.

Gil pulls her and comforts her, and starts to talk - look... it's okay, I know I haven't been giving you explanations but I'm just trying not to hurt you and apparently I failed at that, I'm sorry - he says as he watches Julye lay on his chest.

- Look, you know when you have one kind of life during the day and at night it's like you're in another life? - Gil says, lifting Julye's face to look at her face to face.

- I think so... - Julye says quietly - so you kind of have two different lives?

-It's almost that, but I'll tell you something, when I'm here, with you I feel like this is my place - Gil smiles and Julye also smiles lightly caressing her cheek.

Even though Gil lied about some things, not all of them were lies, he really feels like when he's with Julye it's like he's in the right place.

The two stayed there, hugging each other, feeling the breeze of the wind, they were both in the early morning moonlight.

Gil sometimes wondered if he and Julye could be more than friends, but he never really persisted with that thought. .

He decided to lighten the mood by changing the route of his affairs.

- Julye, do you think I would be a good writer?

- Yes for sure! You are incredible at writing and if it is your passion then you should embrace it and not be afraid of failure - she says smiling, she has always supported Gil in all possible circumstances.

- Don't exaggerate, I'm not that good - Gil says and smiles seeing Julye pout.

- I disagree, you are very good at writing, you are like a poet - Julye says persisting in the idea - you should at least try to do what you like.

- Thank you, you really know how to keep me going - Gil smiles at her - that's what friends are for - Julye says and smiles too, she takes Gil's arm and the two walk down the sidewalk together.

- friends...yes, we are friends - Gil says walking with her.

At the end of the night, Julye turned to Gil and gave a smile that was pleasant to see.

- so this is where I say goodbye to you.

- Yes, I know, but first I want to test one of the theories Ernest Hemingway told me a while ago - Gil says, taking her hand.

-And what theory would that be? - She asked with a hint of curiosity.

Then Gil lightly pulled her by the waist until their lips connected.

He kissed her sweetly but firmly, Julye returned the kiss with the same soft intensity, placing her arms around Gil's neck and the two of them deepened the kiss, totally immense at the moment.

Julye bit Gil's lower lip, asking for passage and Gil gave in, making Julye slide her tongue into his mouth where their tongues meet, they now have their tongues almost dancing in Gil's mouth fighting for dominance.

They separate when they both become short of breath.

- so that was your theory? - Julye says breathlessly.

- Not exactly, but it made me realize and feel many things and one of the things I felt for those seconds when I kissed you was that I was able to dazzle immortality for a while - Gil says smiling, giving Julye a light peck.

It's like Ernest Hemingway said and believed that the moment two people who have a true passion kiss or have sexual relations, they can create a truce over the fear of dying and that's exactly what Gil felt with Julye, he managed for a few moments get a glimpse of what it's like to be immortal.

He felt like his heart was going to explode with so much love and he wanted to show Julye that day but time was about to run out so they said goodbye with a few more passionate kisses and sweet words of affirmation, and went each their way.

And Gil was still certain at that moment, he would still do and give all the love that Julye deserved.

#midnight in paris #fanfic #owen wilson #oc #my writing #oneshot #1920s #paris #scott fitzgerald #my fic #mobius #mobius x reader #gil pender

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years

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66 of 2022

THINGS I LOVE: Philosophy Overgrown yards Thunderstorms in the summertime Classic rock Dream interpretation New York City Collages Listening to music on long car drives Feeling excited and looking forward to things Deep, meaningful conversations Cinematography Bonfires Aesthetically-pleasing interior decoration Having a day I can consider one of the “best days of my life” The style from the 60s and 70s Airports Crossword puzzles Film photography Quotes I can relate to Running

THINGS I DISLIKE: The ’80s Rap music Dislike/hatred of/towards animals Feeling an unavoidable sadness within me Ignorance People who think that everything is a joke Unnecessary rudeness Celery Clothing with fringe When people do things just to “follow the pack” Waiting Confrontation Not being taken seriously by others Feeling incompetent Clichés When my feet are cold Not being able to respond to someone’s message right away for whatever reason Indulging myself in things Romantic comedies Being alone in total darkness

MUSICIANS & BANDS I LOVE: // to be specific, I don’t love any of them; a few I just like The Beatles Paul McCartney Pink Floyd Simon & Garfunkel The Who Bob Dylan George Harrison Led Zeppelin Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young Paul Simon Billy Joel Elton John The Beach Boys The Doors David Bowie

FILMS I LOVE: Empire of the Sun Atonement Up In The Air Beginners Inglourious Bastards I’m Not There The Descendants Schindler’s List The Graduate My Neighbor Totoro Kiki’s Delivery Service Help! The Darjeeling Limited The Royal Tenenbaums Midnight in Paris

BOOKS I LOVE: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close The Book Thief The Catcher in the Rye Ordinary People The Foxman The Hole We’re In The Fault In Our Stars The Fates Will Find Their Way Pictures of Hollis Woods The Graveyard Book

THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO DO IN THE FUTURE: Go on a long road trip lasting at least a month Meet at least one of my “idols” Live in New York City Be in a film, even if only in a minor role Travel around Europe Meet someone who shares my interests and way of thinking and have a close relationship with them Have a farm Decorate (and even build) my own home Be renowned for some reason or other Visit a particular museum or monument

I’M FOND OF: Cats. Weed. // which is strange because I’ve never smoked weed myself, so. I just like the smell of it. New experiences. Getting to know people I have things in common with. Aliens. Horror films. Surveys. Mythology. Nature. The beach. The X-Files. Conspiracy Theories. // not like I believe in any of them, though Documentaries. History. Reading. Clothes. Taking Walks. Tattoos. Quadding/Four-wheeling. Classic Rock. Straight forward people. Metal. Poetry. The Sims.

I’M NOT FOND OF: Extremists. Closed-minded people. Cheese. People who judge or worry about the decisions/opinions of others. Disrespect/Ignorance. The media. Cleaning. Romantic Comedies. Bugs. ‘Reality’ TV shows. Technology taking over *every* aspect of life. Overdramatic people. Today’s music. Cliches. People who hold certain sentiments simply because the mass majority feels that way. Facebook. Self-righteousness. Being stared at. Being condescended to. Being ignored. Beer. Snow/Ice. Feeling trapped in my own head.

I enjoy eating/drinking: Steak. Shrimp. Pizza Pringles. Ben & Jerry’s. Rice. Potatoes. Bagels. Fruit. Skor bars. Aloe Vera drinks. Bolthouses. Water. Chicken. Salads. Omelets. Zucchini. Dark Russet chips. Hot chocolate.

I like to watch: The X-Files. Law & Order: SVU. The Twilight Zone. American Horror Story. Married With Children. Twin Peaks. King Of The Hill. Nightmare Next Door. Wicked Attraction. Roseanne. That 70’s Show. Freaks & Geeks. Breaking Bad. Charmed. Family Guy. The Wonder Years.

I would describe myself as: Laid back. Accepting. Indifferent. Realistic. Ill-tempered. Sarcastic. Blunt. Introverted. Witty. Good-natured. Understanding. Open-minded. Anxious. Headstrong. Honest. Lazy. Moody/Neurotic. Wise. Thick-skinned. Logical. Aloof. Impartial. Cynical. Humorous. Indecisive. Intuitive. Loyal. Modest. Brooding.

I’ve experienced: A hangover. A really bad break-up. Smoking weed. Doing drugs other than weed. Being in a fist fight. Having my own house. Being on a plane. Smoking a cigarette. Sexual assault/abuse. A pregnancy. Being kicked out of my parent’s house. Hitchhiking. Shooting a gun. Physical abuse. Being hospitalized. An abusive relationship. Watching someone die. Seeing someone stabbed and/or shot. Being robbed. Competing in some sort of competition. Being in love. Gambling in a casino. A surgery of some sort.

#survey #about me survey #bolding survey

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serenade-meow · 4 years

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Paul/Jane excerpts (within the context of Beatles’ details)

MEETING THE BEATLES:

On 18 April 1963 Jane did a photographic assignment for Radio Times at a concert called ‘Swinging Sounds ’63’ at the Albert Hall... When the Beatles came on stage she screamed. Jane met all four Beatles backstage – apparently all four were very impressed by her – especially George, it was alleged later – but she got on better with Paul. They were seen in public together for the first time shortly afterwards and from then on Paul was continually asked whether he was going to marry Jane. Paul even made fun of this in ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ when answered ‘No, we’re just good friends’ even before the question was asked.

— Richard Porter, Guide to the Beatles London

They invited her back to their hotel, the Royal Court in Sloane Square, before moving on to the Kings Road apartment of Chris Hutchins, a journalist.

The others left Paul alone in the bedroom with Jane, after a lot of winking. They set the evening talking about gravy and what was their favourite meal. ‘I realized this was the girl for me. I hadn't tried to grab her or make her. I told her, “It appears you're a nice girl.”’

‘They couldn’t believe I was a virgin,’ says Jane.

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

[John’s masturbation comment]

Previously John, Paul, George, and Ringo had hoped to end their evening at the Ad Lib club, a celebrity hangout that had lately become a favorite late-night stop. But as the throngs of girls outside continued to wail, they realized they had better stay out of sight. [Chris] Hutchins invited the entire group back to his apartment King’s Road in Chelsea, so off they went, with two girls in tow…

Whether it was her cool confidence or her posh accent, something about Jane goaded John to direct his caustic eyes in her direction.

“Well. Let’s all play a question-and-answer-game!” He announced a bit too cheerily. Then he turned to Jane. “So tell us, luv, how do girls play with themselves?”

Silence. Jane’s eyes widened. Paul, sitting close to her on the floor, put his hand in the air, as if he could wave John’s words back into his mouth. “John! John!” he yelped. “Stop it. You can’t do that.”

John just smiled, peering intently through his glasses. “No, you can tell us. Come on. We all want to know, come on.”

Paul, looking aghast, shook his head vehemently. “John. For christsakes, John.”

By now Jane was climbing to her feet, muttering icily that it had grown quite late, clearly it was time to go. Paul stood, too, glaring at John while he helped Jane into her coat, saying he’d see her into a cab. The pair of them walked outside quickly, the door clicking behind them. It was late by then, already after midnight, and the dark London air was thick with fog.

The cultured, self-possessed Jane Asher may have intimidated John Lennon, but she was exactly what Paul had been looking for. When Hutchins looked out the window, he saw the Beatle holding the actress’s arm, walking into the midst. “And he never came back,” Hutchins says. “I just saw both of them disappearing down King’s Road.”

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life

RELATIONSHIP:

[Paul on status]

Living in the Asher house gave me the base and the freedom and the independence. That, alongside all the other things, because I wasn't married to Jane. I was pretty free. I remember John very much envying me. He said, 'Well, if you go out with another girl, what does Jane think?' and I said, 'Well, I don't care what she thinks, we're not married. We've got a perfectly sensible relationship.' He was well jealous of that, because at this time he couldn't do that, he was married with Cynthia and with a lot of energy bursting to get out. He'd tried to give Cynthia the traditional thing, but you kind of knew he couldn't. There were cracks appearing but he could only paste them over by staying at home and getting very wrecked.

— Paul McCartney, Many Years from Now

[Jane’s concerns]

That’s typical Paul (wanting me to stay inside the George V Hotel with the band instead of going out by myself to see Paris). It’s just so silly of me to stay at the hotel. It’s just that he’s so insecure. For instance, he keeps saying he’s not interested in the future, but he must be because he says it so often. The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish, it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy. Of course, it’s the trouble with all boys. When I first met the Beatles, I liked them all. Then, when I found out that I liked Paul more, the others became angry with me.

— Michael Braun, Love Me Do! The Beatles Progress

[Image wise, George didn’t stay angry with Jane, there’s several cute candid photos of them looking rather peaceful.]

[London Life]

The socially omnivorous Beatle profited from his Asher connection when the world wasn’t watching, too. For now Paul had entree into the cloistered world of old money… So many secret rituals to learn, so many hands to shake and stories to hear. “It was stuff happening that I’d only ever read of in books,” Paul said. “An overhang from Britain’s genteel past.”

John, stuck out in his golf-course home with his wife and a toddler son whose emotional needs he could never quite fathom, envied his partner’s more fast-paced urban life. Though the three suburban Beatles and their wives weren’t exactly stranger to the London nightlife, Jane clearly set a very different standard. “Jane was a teenaged film star so she was part of the glitterati of London before the Beatles even appeared,” NEMS employee and Beatle wingman Tony Bramwell recalls...

If the other Beatle couples bumped into Paul and Jane in London on a night off, Bramwell continues, it was usually a night club such as the Ad Lib or the Scotch of St. James. “Paul and Jane would be there, probably with some strange people. So you’d have a drink, and that’d be it. They’d be off.”

— Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life

[The Turtles run into Paul, John, Jane, and Ringo]

Inside the speakeasy, all the girls looked like Twiggy, the iconic pixie-haired waif model whose London fashion had taken the world by storm. We must have walked past fifteen look-alike on our way to our next destination and we actually heard the Beatles before we saw them. It was like being in A Hard Day’s Night.

“Aw, come on John. Leave the candles alone. You’re gonna start a bloody fire in here.”

“I can’t see anything down here, Paul. It’s as dark as a hooker’s heart.”

And then, a female voice.

“Please, Paul. Don’t humor him anymore. This is getting ridiculous. I’m going to leave.”

Graham led us around the corner, where the Fab Four were hanging with their dates at a private table in the back of the room. Well, actually it was the Fab Three — George Harrison was not in attendance. The deal was, Lennon was actually under the table taking Polaroid pictures up the skirts of his female companions while Paul lent a hand. Ringo laughed at everything, and Paul’s then girlfriend, Jane Asher, was doing her best to drag him out of there. Dressed in Carnaby Street’s finest, the Beatles were dimly lit, and a halo of light illuminating their mop-top hairdos added just the right ambience to make this already bizarre scene more surreal.

Paul was ducking under the table himself now, helping his business partner illuminate the proceeding with his disposable lighter, and Jane was searching the booth for her coat as we approached them, with Graham in the lead.

“I’ll be leaving now, Paul,” Jane said through clenched teeth as she pushed her way out of the booth and stood there, staring him down.

“Hi, Jane.” Graham was friendly but she didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

“I’m going home, Paul. And I don’t mean your home.” She made her way toward the exit as we walked up in a pack. Jim Tucker actually grabbed her army to stop her en route.

“Hey, Miss Asher. Hi. My name is Jim Tucker and I worked with your brother.” He extended his hand, only to have her push him away.

“Piss off, wanker!” Jane just blew him off and brushed past us on her way out of the club. Jim stood there examining his hand for a long moment.

“Hey, guys,” Graham greeted as Paul frantically scrambled to his feet.

“Jane! Jane! Aw, come on, baby. We’re just having a little fun.” Jane kept walking.

— Howard Kaylan, Jeff Tamarkin, Shell Shocked: My Life with the Turtles, Flo and Eddie, and Frank Zappa etc.

[Vacationing and songwriting — Yesterday]

McCartney played it so often on the set of The Beatles’ first movie, Help!, that director Richard Lester once threatened that he’d throw the piano off the set if McCartney didn’t complete it. Lennon tried to help his pal with the song, but this was entirely a McCartney joint. Lennon's only contribution was the suggestion that the song title just be one word, but beyond that, he was just about useless.

After months of struggling with the creative process, the lyrics suddenly came to McCartney in a very unlikely (and very inconvenient) place: driving down the winding hills of Portugal, where he was on vacation with Jane.

“It was a long hot, dusty drive,” McCartney told Miles. “Jane was sleeping but I couldn’t, and when I’m sitting that long in a car I either manage to get to sleep or my brain starts going. I remember mulling over the tune ‘Yesterday,’ and suddenly getting these little one-word openings to the verse.”

McCartney and Asher were going to stay as guests in the vacation villa owned by his friend Bruce Welch, who was also a musician. When they made it to the villa, McCartney rang up Welch and asked him if he had a guitar. Luckily, there was an acoustic guitar in the house, which made the arduous songwriting process just a bit easier. It took two more weeks to nail the lyrics… and then there was more waiting to do.

— Jordan Zakarin, “Paul McCartney Came up With the Melody to One of the Beatles' Biggest Hits in His Sleep.”

[Thoughts on marriage]

“I enjoy acting. I didn’t want to give that up.”

“I know now I was just being silly,” says Paul. “It was a game, trying to beat you down.” At various times, one of them wanted to get married but the other didn’t. Jane says it was usually something happening with the Beatles, just when it looked all settled, which made her change her mind. Paul says it was her acting, although he agreed when the big tour of America came up that she had to go on that.

“When I came back after five month [tour], Paul had changed so much. He was on LSD, which I hadn’t shared. I was jealous of all the spiritual experiences he’d had with John. There were fifteen people dropping in all day long. The house had changed and was full of stuff I didn’t know about.”

His life is much quieter and more ordered now, since Jane returned. Paul, unlike the others, is very communicative about himself. He does talk everything over with Jane. She knows what he’s thinking.

“Another problem,” says Paul, “was that my whole existence for so long centered round a bachelor life. I didn’t treat women as most people do. I’ve always had a lot around, even when I’ve had a steady girl. My life generally has always been very lax, and not normal.

“I knew it was selfish. It caused a few rows. Jane left me once and went off to Bristol to act. I said okay, then leave; I’ll find someone else. It was shattering to be without her.” This was when he wrote “I’m Looking Through You.” Jane has inspired several of his more beautiful songs, such as “And I Love Her.”

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles.

[Chasing after Jane in Bristol] [Writing Eleanor Rigby] [Busy]

The other three Beatles had already moved out into the London suburbs, with lush gardens and rolling lawns, while Paul was in the heart of London in an old period house. When I complimented him on the house, and admired his possessions, he said: ‘People think we are not conceited — but we are’.

I then got him to explain where the words of Eleanor Rigby had come from… The name which first came into his head was a woman called Daisy Hawkins, ‘picking up rice in a church where a wedding had been’. He had no idea where that line had come from. In Bristol, where he had been visiting Jane Asher who was acting there, he was walking round and saw the name Rigby on a shop, and thought that would be a better name.

— Hunter Davies for the Daily Mail

[Magical Mystery Tour]

By 1967, McCartney was making experimental films, and he traveled everywhere with his video camera. While filming Jane Asher at Denver’s Civic Center Park, he was struck by an idea. It combined the randomness of his amateur films with the stories of the Merry Pranksters that he heard during his time in San Francisco and the mystery charabanc tours that took vacationers from Liverpool to Blackpool on a bus filled with beer and accordion players. Maybe the Beatles could create and film a mystery tour of their own.

— Scott Freiman, “Magical Mystery Tour: Some “Mysteries””

[India]

Brian Epstein’s death was a heavy blow to Jane. She, too, found comfort in the Maharishi: She went with Paul to Rishikesh and felt the experience to have been rewarding. With LSD banished, their understanding returned. Paul, at long last, made ready to commit himself. They announced their engagement at a McCartney family party on Christmas Day, 1967.

— Philip Norman, Shout!

[India]

When they got engaged on Christmas Day 1967, all these problems were in the past. Maharishi for a long time was the only little point of difference, although it was all amicable. Jane didn’t fall for him when the others did. She said that she and Paul together reach a spiritual state on their own. Paul wasn’t as committed as George and John, but still felt there was something there which would help him, which might answer his questions.

The questions he’s referring to are about the purpose of life, not about the Beatles. Paul has some well-worked-out views about the Beatles, their changes, and the future.

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

BREAKING UP:

[John starts bringing Yoko to studio — meets Jane?] [Paul reacting]

Fully aware of the enormity, John implied it was just a one-off visit, because Yoko had been depressed and needed cheering up. ‘I had no idea what he’d told the others,’ she would remember. ‘I couldn’t understand why they kept asking me if I was feeling better.’ It being unthinkable for Lennon to enjoy a privilege that McCartney didn’t, Jane Asher soon afterwards found herself invited to her first Beatles recording session in five years with Paul. As his relationship with Jane began to peter out, he took to bringing along Francie Schwartz, the New Yorker working in Apple’s press office who’d recently caught his eye.

On 17 July, John once again showed off Yoko–now no longer dressed in shapeless black but tailored white–at the London premiere of Yellow Submarine. That evening, very noticeably, Paul had no Jane doing her usual royal duty beside him.

Three days later, on the BBC’s Dee Time program, she told host Simon Dee she was no longer engaged to Paul and that their five-year relationship was over. ‘I haven’t broken it off but it’s broken off, finished,’ she said. ‘I know it sounds corny, but we still see each other and love each other… but it hasn’t worked out. Perhaps we’ll be childhood sweethearts and meet again and get married when we’re about 70.’

— Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman

JOHN: So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that’s not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He’s in Scotland. He told me he doesn’t like English cities anymore. So that’s how it is.

MCCABE: So you think with Linda he’s found what he wanted?

JOHN: I guess so. I guess so. I just don’t understand… I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty, whatever it was. But you don’t really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d married Jane Asher, because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like, boom! She was in and that was the end of it.

— John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

“I've always felt wary including Jane in the Beatles’ history. She’s never gone into print about our relationship, whilst everyone on earth has sold their story. So I'd feel weird being the one to kiss and tell.”

— Paul McCartney, Anthology

I've never particularly liked the idea of looking back; I'd rather look forward.”

— Jane Asher

#Jane asher #Paul mccartney #John lennon #quotes #I'm just a jealous guy #alternate universe where George one-ups Paul and dates Jane #it'd be short-lived tho #Jane and John disliking each other mood #mclennon

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sankyeom · 3 years

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interview tag

(thank you @bbangsoonie and @banhmi07 for tagging me!! 💛)

nicknames: belle, sunflower (only by my grandpa and boyfriend lol)

pronouns: she/her

star sign: leo ♌️🦁

height: 178 cm (5’10 ish)

time: 11:03 pm

birthday: august 8th 2001

nationality: german-french & singaporean

favorite groups: blackpink, the boyz, nct, seventeen, ateez, red velvet and many many more (i stan too many groups at this point lol)

favorite soloist: chungha, eric nam, paul kim, dean, woodz, somi, iu, sunmi

song stuck in your head: breathe by golden child

last movie you watched: she’s the man (omg okay my mum and step-dad had never seen it before so insisted we watch this iconic piece of 2000s teen cinema)

last show you binged: love alarm season 2 and i’m currently watching we best love no.1 for you

when you created your blog: october 8th, 2018 but i didn’t start writing until a few months later

last thing you googled: paris fashion week spring 2021 because i wanted to see all the new lines that just came out

other blogs: @sankyeoms-replies which is my replies and fic recs blog!

why i chose my url: san (from ateez) + dokyeom (from seventeen) = sankyeom, they were my ults when i changed my url from cherrybombjeno back in the day lol

how many people you’re following: 322 but i follow more on my private account

how many followers you have: 2,795 😳💗

average hours of sleep: these days because i’ve had midterms i’ve kept a strict sleep schedule of midnight to 9am, so nine hours, but usually i get anywhere between 6-11 hours lol

lucky number: 42

instruments: piano & guitar, plus the recorder from like fifth grade which is the one instrument i f eel like you can’t unlearn over time

what i’m currently wearing: dog printed pyjama pants with a jumper that says “don’t be racist” on it and two pairs of socks because i’m sensitive to the cold at night, plus a necklace with a sunflower on it that i got from my grandpa when i was a baby 🌻

dream job: i don’t “dream” of having a job because we live in a world where our productivity and exhaustion = success which is just so wrong and gross on multiple levels, but i would love to do something that helps people such as teaching, civil rights law, or if i’m selfish then something related to writing or editing

dream trip: new zealand!! i lived in australia for so many years and never visited new zealand because my dad couldn’t afford it so i’d love to go some day

favorite food: hainanese chicken rice or chai tow kway omg i love singaporean food so much thank goodness my mum can cook it so well

favorite song: crush culture by conan gray just lives in my head rent free but also i’m loving gone by rosé & what i said by victon at the moment

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: harry potter (fuck jk rowling though), narnia & lord of the rings, but when there’s no war or conflict in any of those places

i tag: @xfirebenderx @jaehyvnsvalentine @softforqiankun @httpsohnpouts @chaoticdeobi @deobienthusiast @sunlightwoo @nyuwings if you guys want 💜

#mentions #bbangsoonie🍞#magical mutuals ✨#dash game #tag game #babbles #belle's babbles

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weclassybouquetfun · 3 years

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The Golden Globes nominations are out and...

When my faves aren’t nominated, or when the nominees deviate from what has been the norm throughout awards season it’s clownery of the highest Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey order.

SHOCKS - No nomination for Delroy Lindo despite him dominating in Best Actor category in many circles. Same with Paul Raci (SOUND OF MUSIC), Kingsley Ben-Adir (ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI), Zendaya (EUPHORIA, MALCOLM & MARIE), castmembers of FARGO and Ellen Burstyn (PIECES OF A WOMAN). No nomination for MINARI’s Yuh-Jung Youn.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association did not nominate EUROVISON SONG CONTEST: THE STORY OF FIRE SAGA in Comedy/Musical or Best Song.

Pleasant shock? That these three guys are nominated at the same time.

Best Television Series – Musical or Comedy Emily in Paris The Flight Attendant The Great Schitt’s Creek Ted Lasso”

Best Performance by an Actor in a TV – Drama Jason Bateman Josh O’Connor Bob Odenkirk Al Pacino Matthew Rhys

Best Performance by an Actress in a Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for TV Cate Blanchett Daisy Edgar-Jones Nicole Kidman Anya Taylor-Joy

Shira Haas (she and costar Amit Rahav are nominated for a Spirit award and their other costar Jeff Wilbusch was nominated for an International Press Award)

Best Director – Motion Picture Emerald Fennell (“Promising Young Woman”) David Fincher, “Mank” Regina King, “One Night in Miami” Aaron Sorkin, “The Trial of the Chicago 7” Chloé Zhao, “Nomadland”

Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy Maria Bakalova (“Borat Subsequent Moviefilm”) Kate Hudson (“Music”) Michelle Pfeiffer (“French Exit”) Rosamund Pike (“I Care a Lot”) Anya Taylor-Joy (“Emma”)

Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama Riz Ahmed (“Sound of Metal”)

Anthony Hopkins (“The Father”) Gary Oldman (“Mank”) Tahar Rahim (“The Mauritanian”) Chadwick Boseman (”Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”)

Best Television Series – Drama The Crown Lovecraft Country The Mandalorian Ozark Ratched

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series – Drama Olivia Colman (“The Crown”) Jodie Comer (“Killing Eve”) Emma Corrin (“The Crown”) Laura Linney (“Ozark”) Sarah Paulson (“Ratched”)

Best Performance by an Actor in a Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for TV

Bryan Cranston (“Your Honor”) Jeff Daniels (“The Comey Rule”) Hugh Grant (“The Undoing”) Mark Ruffalo (“I Know This Much Is True”)

Ethan Hawke (“The Good Lord Bird”)

Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy Sacha Baron Cohen (“Borat Subsequent Moviefilm”)

James Corden (“The Prom”) Lin-Manuel Miranda (“Hamilton”) Andy Samberg (“Palm Springs”)

Dev Patel (“The Personal History of David Copperfield”)

Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama Viola Davis (“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”)

Andra Day (“The United States vs. Billie Holiday”) Vanessa Kirby (“Pieces of a Woman”) Frances McDormand (“Nomadland”) Carey Mulligan (“Promising Young Woman”)

Best Motion Picture – Drama The Father Mank Promising Young Woman The Trial of the Chicago 7

Nomadland

Best Actor in a Supporting Role in Any Motion Picture

Sacha Baron Cohen (“The Trial of the Chicago 7”) Daniel Kaluuya (“Judas and the Black Messiah”) Bill Murray (“On the Rocks”) Leslie Odom, Jr. (“One Night in Miami”)

Jared Leto (“The Little Things”)

Best Original Score – Motion Picture The Midnight Sky – Alexandre Desplat Tenet – Ludwig Göransson News of the World – James Newton Howard Mank - Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross Soul – Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, Jon Batiste

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy Lily Collins (“Emily in Paris”) Kaley Cuoco (“The Flight Attendant”) Jane Levy (“Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist”) Catherine O’Hara (“Schitt’s Creek”)

Elle Fanning (”The Great”)

Best Television Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for TV Normal People The Queen’s Gambit Small Axe The Undoing Unorthodox

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Series, Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for TV John Boyega (“Small Axe”) Brendan Gleeson (“The Comey Rule”) Dan Levy (“Schitt’s Creek”) Jim Parsons (“Hollywood”) Donald Sutherland (“The Undoing”)

Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy Borat Subsequent Moviefilm Hamilton Palm Springs Music The Prom

Best Actress in a Supporting Role in Any Motion Picture Glenn Close (“Hillbilly Elegy”) Olivia Colman (“The Father”) Jodie Foster (“The Mauritanian”) Amanda Seyfried (“Mank”) Helena Zengel (“News of the World”)

Best Motion Picture – Foreign Language La Llorona The Life Ahead Minari Two of Us

Another Round / Druk

Best Screenplay – Motion Picture Promising Young Woman Mank The Trial of the Chicago 7 The Father Nomadland

Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy Don Cheadle Nicholas Hoult Eugene Levy Jason Sudeikis Ramy Youssef

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Series, Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for TV Gillian Anderson Helena Bonham Carter Julia Garner Annie Murphy Cynthia Nixon

Best Original Song – Motion Picture “Fight for You” from “Judas and the Black Messiah” – H.E.R., Dernst Emile II, Tiara Thomas

“Hear My Voice” from “The Trial of the Chicago 7” – Daniel Pemberton, Celeste

“Io Si (Seen)” from “The Life Ahead” Diane Warren, Laura Pausini, Niccolò Agliardi

“Speak Now” from “One Night in Miami” – Leslie Odom Jr, Sam Ashworth

“Tigress & Tweed” from “The United States vs. Billie Holliday”

Best Motion Picture – Animated The Croods: A New Age Onward Over the Moon Soul Wolfwalkers

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deadcactuswalking · 3 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 03/04/2021 (Lil Nas X’s “MONTERO”, Mimi Webb, Russ Millions & Tion Wayne)

So, we have a #1 debut, and that’s pretty much the only story here in the UK Top 75 as we get a filler week before Demi Lovato, Olivia Rodrigo and Lil Tjay run in and cause havoc. As for now, “Wellerman” is replaced at the top by Lil Nas X’s controversial “MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)”, spending its first week at #1 after making pretty sudden gains assisted by the video and alternate versions – the mid-week projection had this at #15. Elsewhere, we just see the fall-out from Bieber. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

It’s a quiet week – only seven new entries, and none from Rod Wave, 24kGoldn or AJR as I had predicted. That doesn’t mean there isn’t some stuff to talk about within the chart, or particularly off of the chart, as we have a fair few drop-outs switching their places with returning entries. In particular, we have Justin Bieber’s “As I Am” featuring Khalid being swapped out for “Anyone” at #25, as well as drop-outs for “Arcade” by Duncan Laurence – slightly premature, I’d think – and all of Lana Del Rey’s songs from last week. We also “Anxious” by AJ Tracey, “Heat” by Paul Woodford and Amber Mark and “Toxic” by Digga D exit the chart, but the only real notable loss was “34+35” by Ariana Grande ending its 21-week run on the chart. Returning to the Top 75 in its place – which I cover – we have “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers of course at #73, as well as “Midnight Sky” by Miley Cyrus at #72, “You’ve Done Enough” by Gorgon City and DRAMA at #70 (really hope this one becomes a hit) and “Don’t You Worry About Me” by Bad Boy Chiller Crew at #66. In terms of climbers and fallers, we do have some notable gains and losses. For songs travelling down the chart, we have “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G tanking a sharp drop in its third week to #18, “Streets” by Doja Cat shaking off the video gains at #22, “drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo continuing to collapse at #27, another sharp drop for HVME’s remix of Travis Scott’s “Goosebumps” down to #34 probably due to ACR, which was probably the fate for “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #46. The same probably can’t be said for Drake’s losses, as “What’s Next” is at #40, “Lemon Pepper Freestyle” featuring Rick Ross is at #41 and “Wants and Needs” featuring Lil Baby stalls at #55. We also see falls for “Money Talks” by Fredo and Dave at #50, “Bringing it Back” by Digga D and AJ Tracey at #51, “Sweet Melody” by Little Mix on its way out at #57, “Headshot” by Lil Tjay featuring Polo G and Fivio Foreign down to #61 off the debut (although it’ll rebound thanks to the album as soon as the next week rolls around), “Ready” by Fredo featuring Summer Walker at #62, “You’re Mines Still” by Yung Bleu featuring Drake at #63 and “Day in the Life” by Central Cee at #69. Where it gets interesting are our gains, such as outside the top 40 with “What Other People Say” by Demi Lovato and Sam Fischer which could very well get even higher next week thanks to the album. We also have “Track Star” by Mooski at #53 off of the debut and a couple of tracks entering the top 40 for the first time, those being “Heartbreak Anniversary” by Giveon at #39 and Majestic’s remix of “Rasputin” by Boney M. at #38. Elsewhere in the top 40, we have “Let’s Go Home Together” by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan at #13 and two songs marking their first week in the top 10, those being “Little Bit of Love” by Tom Grennan at #10, a song continuing to sour on me, and “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S, an EDM song at #8 that I initially mocked for its soulless repackaging but has honestly got me pretty hooked since. I’m excited to see how this one does. For now, however, let’s get on with our new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#64 – “Cloud 9” – Beach Bunny

Produced by Joe Reinhart

Beach Bunny is a power pop band who last year released their album Honeymoon on Mom+Pop and it’s basically a modern r/indieheads staple in that it’s an accessible, airy pop-rock record fronted by a woman. It’s not anything unique, really, or different if you look further into it but that’s fine because there’s a lot of vaguely “indie” or music snob releases pushed out every year that miss the charts entirely. It’s a different story, however, when a year later, it gets viral on TikTok and streams its way onto the chart. In that case, we have “Cloud 9” by Beach Bunny, a pretty simple but sweet love song about a guy who just makes her feel a lot better about herself in times where she can’t pick herself up from the rut she’s in. Again, it’s a simple track but enhanced by the wonderful and unique vocal performance from front-woman Lili Trifilo and some pretty great production making sure no guitar lick is missed in this mix, especially in that chorus which is such an ethereal blend of the electric guitar dubs. I would argue that this actually should end at that second chorus even if it ends feeling abrupt as the transition to the final chorus feels a lot less cathartic than it does awkward, especially if the bridge is going to be a simplistic, quirky instrumental meander that doesn’t go far enough to be a guitar solo and hence feels kind of like a worthless addition. As is, this is a pretty great song still, just not the most fully realised once it loses that initial tight surf groove, though I’ll let it pass if we’re going to get rock this good on the charts again. I know this won’t really get more traction for Beach Bunny – or power pop for that matter – but more of this, please.

#52 – “You All Over Me” (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) (Remix) (feat. DaBaby) (Part 2) (Radio Edit) – Taylor Swift featuring Maren Morris

Produced by Taylor Swift and Aaron Dessner

Sadly, this does not feature DaBaby and is not the remix, radio edit or sequel to any previously released song. Jokes aside, I guess brackets are the next big comeback for pop music, which goes hand-in-hands with remixes and re-releases, hence why Taylor Swift is dusting off this leaked Fearless-era cut for a new recording with country singer Maren Morris, who you probably know from her contributions to Zedd’s “The Middle”. Now whilst Swift is a great songwriter, I do often find myself frustrated by how she treads common ground all too frequently without establishing much different with how a song is structured or how it emotionally connects. This is true not just lyrically but especially sonically as of recent, as despite being written in 2008, it has too much in common with the less interesting cuts off of folklore for me to really care that much. That’s especially if Taylor’s going to undercut the clean acoustic guitars with flourishes of harmonica and crow sound effects, showing some genuine intrigue here before refusing to let any of that develop past a couple stray melodies or notes further back in the mix. I’m trying really hard to be compelled by these re-recordings and re-releases of her back catalogue as I do consider myself a fan, but it’s tough to pay attention when any new compositions we get sound like folklore leftovers with Maren Morris only put to use as decoration, much like HAIM on “no body, no crime” – and we already got an album full of folklore leftovers. I’m not a fan of this, sorry – I can see the appeal, and I do think this has enough of a country tinge to it to make it at least somewhat interesting – but this goes in one ear and immediately out of the other.

#48 – “Tonight” – Ghost Killer Track featuring OBOY and D-Block Europe

Produced by Ghost Killer Track and Kenzy

Screw the formalities and screw the analysis because D-Block Europe are back to add another D-Block to their EU collection – and since they’re Londoners, their only – and that’s Paris, and contrary to the British nature, we’ve let French rap chart in the top 50 out of the fact that they collaborated with two of the most comical rappers in British history. They’ve also linked up with producer Ghost Killer Track, also from France, as this is ostensibly his song even if he intends not to prove himself with this dull piano-based beat and oddly-mastered bass and percussion, which are really just DBE staples. Unfortunately, past the initial comedy of that first line in the chorus, neither Young Adz or Dirtbike LB deliver any stupid lyrics or funny inflections, instead just resorting to being as boring as they can in their constant flexing as possible. I guess the French guy here, OBOY, commands a higher energy in his verse if only through his comical “no, no, no” ad-libs, but he’s the only French speaker in an otherwise basic British trap song that I just cannot see the appeal in when we’ve had song after song from these guys for three years now. This won’t be the last we see of cookie-cutter UK rap this week though so brace yourselves for that.

#47 – “Last Time” – Becky Hill

Produced by LOSTBOY

It’s almost as if the charts are trying to send me off to sleep as here we have Becky Hill, a singer hedging the line between a non-presence and mildly annoying, which is arguably more frustrating than downright infuriating as her slightly smokier voice does not sound bad, just lacking in texture in every way, especially if the multi-tracking is going to be this minimal on a royalty-free deep-house beat produced by Getty Images with a pretty worthless drop, a generic and simple melody of piano stabs for major chords, and a whole bunch of reverb on the vocal take... but it still ends up feeling dry as there’s nothing here to quench that thirst for a tighter, bass-heavy house banger or even a more ethereal, dreamy trance track, deciding to stick to a healthy medium of boring and utter garbage. Yes, that was a singular sentence. I’m not awake enough to form a cohesive sentence less than 40 words long, and this new Becky Hill track is just worsening that if anything. Speaking of...

#21 – “Body” – Russ Millions and Tion Wayne

Produced by Gotcha Bxtch

Who’s Russ Millions? He’s Russ. No, not that Russ. British Russ – or Russ Splash, stylised as Russ splash on Spotify and nowhere else. This confusingly-named fellow appeared on the charts a couple times and possibly most famously with “Keisha & Becky”, a song also featuring Tion Wayne that is referenced on this very track. Sigh, I usually like Tion Wayne but even he can’t be bothered to delivery his usual brand of suave charm or sinister menace, instead opting for a more growling but ultimately completely monotone cadence that doesn’t flatter him or Russ, who one of my friends described as sounding like one of the aliens from Toy Story. This is a pretty by-the-numbers drill beat too, and it’s pretty safe to say that neither Russ or Tion Wayne here are going to bother with wordplay, even when they start pretty smoothly trading bars and Tion Wayne goes for a more unique chopper flow in the second verse. This is just not of any note. Once again, speaking of...

#17 – “Good Without” – Mimi Webb

Produced by Freedo

I assumed Mimi Webb debuted this high because of a talent show she won or something because I’d never heard her name but instead, she just happened to have a major label deal before her unreleased song just happened to go viral on TikTok and just happened to be supported by one of the women who just happened to be the biggest creator on the platform. Yeah, and this song just happened to be garbage, suffering from every possible millennial pop trope and then some, from the mix dressed rather too overtly in reverb, the ugly guitar pluck, a generic indie-girl voice that you swear you’ve heard before in one of those dreadful piano covers of popular songs they use in adverts, as well as this ballad being undercut by badly-programmed trap percussion. I can tell this label is trying to create somewhat of an Olivia Rodrigo phenomenon from this and I for one am terrified of the Poundland knock-offs to come. Screw this.

#1 – “MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)” – Lil Nas X

Produced by Roy Lenzo, Omar Fedi and Take a Daytrip

At least Lil Nas X will bring some passion into this chart week? Well, not really, as when I hear this I recall that Pitchfork review of his EP, a much-maligned critique that featured the ever-so pretentious questioning if Lil Nas X really enjoyed making and listening to music. It reminds me because I think I now fully get it – at least when Lil Nas X was making slap-dash pop rock with Travis Barker or meme-worthy country rap with Billy Ray Cyrus for less than two minutes apiece, there was something invigorating in the execution or at least in concept. That 7 EP is still not a bad debut at all, but this new single “MONTERO”, a long-anticipated record that went from constantly-teased demo to Super Bowl commercial to Satanic-panicked videos of Lil Nas giving Satan a lap-dance to own the conservatives, has the same remote dreariness to it as “HOLIDAY” did late last year. The acoustic, Latin-flavoured guitar loop reminds me of his much better track “Rodeo” from that aforementioned EP that used its energy for similarly lighthearted subject matter but with some genuine energy, a Cardi B feature and a lot less subtle moombahton creeping in. With that said, I can’t say Lil Nas X didn’t try, as his vocal performance, whilst largely insufferable and strained, gives some energy to an otherwise aggravatingly stunted beat, and makes it a lot more infectious than it has any right to be. Content-wise, the song is essentially about a full circle where Lil Nas X becomes increasingly desperate for a man who starts off lonely and in a bad place, and the irony is that Lil Nas gets more explicitly sexual and crazed due to a combination of the LA life-style surrounding him and the fact that he’s simply, for lack of a better term, “down bad”, despite the fact that this guy doesn’t seem particularly desirable. Lil Nas knows this, though, and acknowledges it in the pre-chorus where he outright says that this guy is living the cocaine-addled celebrity life, but not living it right without Mr. Bullriding and Boobies in his life. I’m happy about the video and the outrage it seems to cause not just within conservative spaces but also amongst the hip-hop community, particularly Joyner Lucas, and I’m pretty happy with how out and proud Lil Nas X is about his sexuality, even if it leads to lines like “Shoot a child in your mouth while I’m ridin’”. I’m just really not a fan of this song past its content, which could really be interesting but falls flat with this plucking production that wastes time in barely two minutes with humming interludes. It’s not bad at all, just not for me.

Conclusion

And that concludes our week, and wow, what a bad week this was for new arrivals. Admittedly, it’s a filler week so only “MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)” will probably last – or at least we can hope as even if I don’t like the song, I still have to give out an Honourable Mention to someone, and it may as well be Lil Nas X trying to put the effort in. Best of the Week easily goes to Beach Bunny for “Cloud 9”, far and away the only good song here, with Worst of the Week also going out pretty easily to Mimi Webb’s “Good Without”, which is the type of soulless, unmemorable garbage that makes pop music look uninspired, and as a person who writes about the charts constantly, it’s a misconception I don’t want proven or revisited. Dishonourable Mention is a toss-up but I guess I’ll give it to Russ Millions and Tion Wayne for that sprinkle of drill disappointment that is “Body”, and that’ll be it for this week. I predict some impact from Demi Lovato, Lil Tjay and especially Olivia Rodrigo next week, but for now, here’s our top 10:

Thank you for reading – sorry for the grouchiness on this one – and I’ll see you next week!

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uzumaki-rebellion · 4 years

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“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 10

youtube

Summary: Caught between two friends, Erik finds himself caught with a third...

NSFW. Mature Audience.

Me Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me? Me, me Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?

H.E.R. - “Focus”

Erik sat between Giselle and Athena at the round booth table they were seated in at a seafood restaurant overlooking the Santa Monica shores. Tony ordered lobster platters and fresh New England chowder for their meal.

Tony got down to business talking about his expectations for New York and the women were focused on him instead of each other. After they finished the first course of clam chowder, Maria joined them and Erik gave a sigh of relief. Maria had a way of making people comfortable with her spastic energy.

Erik almost didn't recognize her when she swept in.

Dressed in a black tuxedo dress and midnight black boots, Maria looked beyond sophisticated. Even her hair was slicked back in a chic way, reminding him of when her tresses were wet in the pool when he kissed her…

For a second, Erik forgot about Giselle and Athena and even Tony, his eyes taking in Maria's visage. She looked good. Real good. Sitting next to Tony, Maria handed him an envelope and he tucked it inside his blazer pocket. A waiter brought over a tray of Oysters Rockefeller and while everyone dipped in to savor the goods, Maria finally looked at him, and her face looked stressed.

Tony allowed Erik to have a glass of white wine with everyone else and most of the talk was food and vineyards in Paris. Athena and Tony compared favorite wines, and Erik could tell that Giselle was stewing. So did Tony.

"So…you two know each other well?" Tony asked.

Athena took a sip of her wine and glanced at Giselle.

"From school," Athena said.

Her voice was cool.

Tony looked at Giselle who looked super annoyed.

"Frenemies," Tony said while pouring more wine for himself.

Maria watched the two women and then she glanced back at Erik. The mood was icy and not improving. Erik decided to change the topic.

"You look real fancy, Maria," he said.

Maria smiled at him.

"Maria is going to be giving a presentation this evening for the Los Angeles Asian American Business Alliance in a couple of hours. You all set?" Tony said.

"Yes," Maria said.

"Love that dress," Athena said.

"Thank you. It's a cocktail mixer and I'm going to talk about the internship and my experience with it so far," she said.

"You look lovely, Maria," Giselle said.

"Thanks."

"I'll be right back, restroom break." Erik said.

He stood up and moved past Athena. His bladder was calling.

"I'll go myself," Giselle said, following him to the back of the restaurant.

"Yo, what's the deal?" Erik asked.

Giselle stood near the ladies' room and her face looked cross.

"I fucking hate that bitch," she said.

"Why?"

"She and I used to be friends. Tight as hell back at Brown University. Before we graduated, I applied for and an overseas fellowship in Paris to study. Kicked my ass trying to get letters of recommendation and worked hard to get this thing. My mistake was telling Athena about it. She applied for it too. And she got it."

"Maybe she was a better candidate—"

"She called her father who pulled some favors. She didn't get it on merit. I know that for a fact. She just wanted to go to Paris and have that on her resume."

Giselle's eyes were in full kill mode.

"I hustled so hard. During my interview, I was told that I was a top candidate. She knew I wanted it, didn't even tell me she applied for it until after she was awarded the damn thing. She saw me putting in extra effort for a whole year…"

"Don't get bent out of shape over it now. That was the past. You're here with Tony—"

"That's just it, I know her ass didn't earn this spot like everyone else. I know her father is tight with Stark. I know it was just another quick phone call. Just like Wes, and all the other mediocre people who leapfrog over people more deserving."

"Don't let her steal your thunder in front of Tony. It makes you look bad. Do you really think she used her Dad to get her here? Tony doesn't seem like a dude who would go for that. You gotta have real game to get this internship."

"You know what sucks? She and I were like sisters. This cut me so deep, Erik."

"Y'all can't salvage your friendship?"

"Would you?"

Erik shrugged and dipped into the restroom. Giselle was still standing outside when he came out.

"Ready to go back?" he asked.

Tony was spinning a tale about New Zealand and Maria and Athena looked enraptured. Dinner seemed to get everyone back on track. Giselle ignored Athena for the most part and when the meal was over. Erik was asked to join Maria at her event.

"I'd like to attend," Athena said.

They all ended up going.

###

Maria did well.

More than well.

Erik didn't know if it was her clothes, the way Tony fawned over her in front of the event coordinators, or how Maria answered questions from the audience with sass and excited zeal. She was funny, endearing, and so fucking ready for any and all questions. Tony was asked to come up and say a few words, and the Asian audience ate up his words too. Later, as the mixer got into full swing, Maria stuck by his side. So many people came up to ask her more questions.

"Oh jeez," Maria said.

Two women and a man walked over to Maria.

"Maria, didn't recognize you for a second."

The name tag on the woman said, Yuna.

"Hi. Yeah, it's been a minute," Maria said.

Erik noticed Maria's countenance changed quickly. The confidence she had earlier was gone.

"Erik, this is Yuna, Paul, and Sooh-Ha."

They looked at Erik's clothes and his face and were about to brush him off when Tony sidled up.

"Maria, Erik, I'd like you to meet some people," he said.

Erik and Maria followed Tony, and Erik heard Yuna, Paul, and Sooh-Ha following them.

"Erik, Maria, this is Mr. Huang of TBS Corp. Mr. Huang, these are my two top interns…"

Tony bragged on them and Erik could see the others looking at him different. He wasn't just a random Black guy to ignore. He had some status. A bit of clout. Typical.

Erik and Maria showed off to Tony's delight, and Erik found his eyes wandering to Athena and Giselle who were talking amicably it looked on the other side of the room. He was curious to know what they were working out. Tony guided Mr. Huang to another group of business owners and Erik led Maria to the open bar. The clout chasers followed them.

"Maria, Joseph Kim is here," Yuna said. Her eyes sparkled when she said the name and Maria's lips went tight.

"Who is that?" Erik asked.

"Nobody," Maria said.

She picked up a glass of wine. Erik grabbed a coke.

"Your face says different," Erik said.

"Joseph!" Yuna called out.

A tall Korean man walked over carrying a plate of food. A smile spread on his lips when he saw Maria.

Maria tried to turn away from him, but she was stuck next to the bar table. She ended up bumping into Erik's side.

"Maria," Joseph said.

Erik recognized the look on Maria's face. He'd seen it himself on enough women he'd broken up with or dogged out. This dude had hurt her. And that pain was still there inside of her.

"Hi," Maria said.

Joseph's eyes looked her up and down.

"I didn't recognize you until you started speaking. Working for Stark must be amazing."

"Yeah, it is," she said.

Joseph glanced at Erik. They were the same height.

"How is your family?" Joseph asked.

"Everyone is great," she said.

Maria looked like a shrinking violet.

"Joseph and his wife just had a son," Sooh-Ha said. There was a smirk on her lips.

"Congratulations," Maria said.

Joseph beamed, and Erik wanted to punch him in his bland smug face.

"Since you work for Stark now, maybe you could put in a good word for me. I applied for a position in his San Francisco office," Joseph said.

The unmitigated gall. Erik felt his jaw clench.

"We better get back to Stark. He has some more people for us to talk to."

Erik held out his arm for her. Maria pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned into him.

"Nice seeing all of you again, but our boss calls."

"Good luck with that application," Maria said.

Erik steered her away from them and he felt Maria relax. They went to the other side of the room and stood near Tony as he spoke to a group of older women with a ton of questions and picture taking.

"Thank you," Maria said.

"I could tell they were bugging you. A nobody, huh?"

"Ex-boyfriend. He broke up with me to marry someone who was not Filipino and too Black for his family."

"Too Black?

"Yeah. My father."

"It was like that?"

"Yep."

Erik noticed Giselle stomping away from Athena.

"Excuse for a moment," he said.

Threading his way through the crowded mixer, Erik stepped to Athena who looked a bit shaken.

"Hey. Everything okay over here?" he asked.

"Never better," Athena said trying to brush him off.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really…"

Her eyes connected with his. She gave a sigh and leaned against the pillar she stood next to.

"I used to think Giselle and I would run the world together. She was the bestie that I dreamed of having. But now…she just thinks I steal things that don't belong to me like I don't work for stuff."

Athena's eyes flicked over his shoulder, he turned to see Giselle at the bar ordering a drink.

"She thinks I'm like these white boys out here. Always a phone call to Daddy to make things happen."

"Is it true?"

"Fuck no."

Erik felt his lips quirk when she cursed.

"I don't even like my father. We aren't even on speaking terms. Haven't been since I left Brown. She just…she makes wild accusations. Assumes too much."

"That's what y'all were going in about?"

"She doesn't think I belong here. But I do. I worked hard to get here and I worked for every fellowship I ever received."

"The one in Paris?"

Athena's eyes bored into his.

"She told you about that?"

"Said she told you about it and you stole it from her."

"I didn't steal it. She told me about the program and the company had twenty fellowships throughout France. The entire country. Twenty slots. I applied for the fellowship that matched my studies the same as her. I even turned in my application weeks after she did, almost missed the deadline waiting for a recommendation. I had to do six different interviews before I even got picked. In fact, I didn't even get picked until another candidate dropped out for a family matter."

"She says your father made a phone call on your behalf—"

"My father didn't even know I applied. I did it to get away from him and my family."

Athena's eyes were watery.

"I miss my friend…"

Athena wiped her eyes and Erik moved in to block her from spectators.

"Did you tell her all that?"

"Yeah. She doesn't believe me. Doesn't believe I earned my spot here. I told Tony not to even tell my father I'm here, let alone applied for a spot. She's just so damn angry and not trying to listen to me. I have never lied to her. I have never tried to sabotage her aspirations. I was always her biggest cheerleader. Been there for her through her darkest times…even when she had a—"

Athena pulled away from the pillar.

"Shit. I've been drinking too much. Talking too much…"

She glanced at her watch.

"How long is this thing? I'm ready to go."

"I can take you home."

"On a motorcycle?"

"Lyft."

Erik pulled out his cell and texted Tony.

"I let Stark know I'm escorting you back."

"Escorting me?"

"Looks like you need a friend to do that."

Her eyes dropped from his.

"I don't have very many friends, Erik."

"Let's bounce."

###

Erik ended up taking the vibranium with him to New York. It got through customs without alerting the metal detector.

He flew first class with Maria, Athena, and Giselle, along with five other interns hand-picked by Tony to attend the event. Their hotel was V.I.P. status all the way and their first night in New York was spent finding a club that Erik could sneak into. They ended up staying at the hotel bar lounge where the waiters assumed Erik was of age like the others.

Athena and Giselle were on their best behavior. Erik tried to get Giselle to talk to Athena, but that was tossed aside. Erik knew it was a misunderstanding. He believed Athena. But Giselle needed to have a villain to blame for something she wanted badly. He tried pushing up on Giselle, tried to get her to loosen up while they were away from the office, but she curved him.

Maria took a liking to an intern who seemed genuinely intrigued by her. Erik played the overprotective older brother and mean-mugged the white boy as much as possible to keep him on the straight and narrow. He seemed to get the hint and treated Maria well.

"What are you daydreaming about?"

Athena caught him sitting in the hotel gym, the stationary bike he was on far from spinning wheels.

"Tony has me hosting the children's day opener. I was just thinking about how I was when I was that age. I had this robot I entered when I was like nine, and I got pretty far. I was thinking about what I would've wanted to hear from somebody working for Stark back then."

"That's so cute. A robot."

"Got a certificate and everything."

"Did you come to the convention?"

"Nah. My family had to deal with some stuff so I wasn't able to go."

He watched Athena step onto a Stairmaster and start a program. Her gym clothes were form-fitting and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her curves and the deep cleavage in her work-out tank. The girl was bad, no lie. He started cycling and looking down at the mileage he was putting up.

"You had a chance to talk to Giselle?"

"Nope. She's still ignoring me."

"Same."

"You two…?"

"Was trying."

Athena smiled.

"What's that smile for?"

"She keeps her eyes on you."

"I'm tryna get more than that."

"Alright now."

Athena laughed and it made Erik smile.

"Them dimples are deadly. You'll wear her down soon enough."

"It's been almost three months. This gig is about to end and she ain't budged. Not happening."

"Perhaps if she weren't messing with Cameron she'd be all over you."

"That buster."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"He's cute. Has a lot of personality."

"And I don't?"

"Yours is more volatile. A little rough around the edges. That's not her style."

"I think it is. She got a little taste."

"Ooh…a little taste?"

"I mean…she knows what I'm working with and she seemed to like it."

"You slept together?"

"Nah…just a little touch and feel—"

"Okay…stop. This is none of my business. I'm sorry I started the convo."

"No you not."

He stepped off the bike once he hit his target. He joined her on the Stairmaster next to her for his cool down.

"I can't figure her out. She's hot and cold with me."

"Maybe take that as a hint. Find someone else."

"Would you go out with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Too young."

"That's a cop-out and you know it. Y'all keep settling for weak dick then—"

Athena burst out laughing.

"You laugh, but when you ready for that deep dick, you come holla at me."

He stepped off the machine a walked out of the gym.

Athena was still laughing.

###

Erik was drinking bottled water when he heard Maria fumbling with her key card trying to get into her room. He stuck his head out to tease her for being drunk when she couldn't open her door.

"You know it's bad when you can't get into your own room with a card—"

Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with fresh tears.

"What happened?"

Her hands dropped to her sides and Erik ushered her into his room and sat her on his bed.

"Maria?"

"Kevin—"

"He hurt you?"

"No…I…we…"

Her voice shuddered.

"Take your time."

She nodded at him.

He poured her a glass of water from a fresh bottle in his mini-fridge and she drank it down. She smoothed her dress and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

"I thought it was the right time for Kevin and I. We've been seeing each other for the last month and…I guess…I wanted to and…"

"And?"

Erik felt his stomach tighten. He was ready to fight.

"We had sex, and it wasn't good. It wasn't what I thought it would be."

"So it was consensual?"

Erik felt himself relax a bit. He unclenched his fists.

"Yes…oh God, yes…I don't want you to think I was forced. I wanted to do it."

She wiped her eyes.

He wanted to know why she was crying so hard about it.

"You have regrets?"

"I should've waited. I like Kevin well enough. It felt right at first. But it was missing something. Thank God it didn't last that long. I left the moment it was over even though he wanted me to stay the night."

A knock on his hotel room door interrupted them. He answered.

"Hey, we still on for dinner?"

Athena was dressed and ready to head to the hotel restaurant. She wore a snazzy black blouse and skirt. Dinner and then some clubbing afterward.

"Yeah…about that, Maria is having a moment and I'm—"

"Hey, Athena!"

Erik opened the door wider so Maria could see Athena.

"Hey, Maria. What's going on?"

Erik let Athena in. It would be best to let another woman handle the situation.

Maria looked at Erik. Then she looked at Athena.

"Maria…why don't you go take a shower and change and come with us to eat—"

"How did your date go with Kevin?"

Athena had a look on her face that let Erik know that she knew the extent of Maria's date night plan.

"Not so good," Maria said.

"Oh, honey…"

Erik opened Maria's conjoining door.

"Go get dressed. We'll talk at dinner," Erik said.

"I'll wait for you two downstairs. I want to keep the reservation," Athena said.

"I won't take long," Maria said.

Athena left and Erik put on his shoes and some brand new cologne.

A soft knock on his inner door let him know Maria was ready. She walked in looking cute and bubbly again in a slinky green dress.

"Ready to go downstairs?"

"Yes."

He turned to go open the main door and Maria hugged him tight around the waist.

"What's this for?"

"Listening to me. Not being grossed out by me talking about it. Not judging me."

"Sex is always different with different people. It's not easy the first time."

"Was it for you?"

"Hell yeah."

Maria rolled her eyes.

"What I mean is, I wanted to do it and I was ready to do it with whoever. But I was hella young. Fifteen. I was just all poke and stroke. I wasn't thinking about my feelings afterward. I was thinking about getting better at it with the next girl. I didn't know any better."

"I'm sure you were better than Kevin. He had his eyes closed the whole time, and it was like I wasn't even there. It was like he was screwing a sex doll."

"How are you feeling physically?"

"Okay. It didn't really hurt. But it seemed so fast. Is it always fast like that?"

"Um….nah, it depends. On who you're with and where you are—"

"I thought there would be more kissing. He kissed very little—"

"We should probably leave."

His hands stroked her shoulders and she placed her head against his chest.

"I'm glad you were here so I could vent."

"Me too."

He pushed back from her gently and when her eyes looked up at him, he felt a little funny.

Funny enough to lower his head and kiss her on the lips.

But not the way a friend would.

###

Chapter 11 Here

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arecomicsevengood · 4 years

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More Movies I Watched. Should I Just Join Letterboxd?

Is Letterboxd fun? Not really sure if anyone gets anything out of these posts being located here, but also not sure I have any desire to join a website I’m not sure anyone I’m friends with is on, don’t necessarily feel a yearning to be around more people with too many opinions, who are maybe trying to parlay their “expertise” into writing jobs.

Portrait Of A Lady On Fire (2020) dir. Celine Sciamma

I’m going to consider this a 2020 movie as that’s when its wide release was in the States; also, this movie’s great and if considered a 2020 movie is easily the frontrunner for best of the year. Well-shot enough I felt I was in good hands from the very first minutes, which feel vaguely reminiscent of The Piano (which I don’t remember super-well), this movie ends up also have a very intense relationship with music as well. This is a lesbian love story between a woman betrothed to be married to a man she’s never met and the painter who is making her portrait for the approval of said man. The painter is initially working on the portrait secretly, the film’s attention is tuned to the two leads’ furtive glances and studies of one another, the gaze intensely felt, but returned and mutual. Lots of great stuff, real delight taken in faces, the ability to change another’s expression by making them laugh. the power of music, the incommunicable aspects of subjective experience. I watched this director’s other movie, Girlhood, but don’t remember it, and this is a lot better. This is also a lot better than Blue Is The Warmest Color, where the only thing I remember is the long and graphic sex scene. This movie has no such scene. One of these actresses led the walkout when the French film industry gave Roman Polanski an award.

Summer Hours (2008) dir. Oliver Assayas

Just did an IMDB search and found out Assays cowrote a movie with Polanski a few years ago? That sucks. This one’s about an artist’s estate being sold off after a widow dies, as the kids need money. Plenty of nice bits about the subjective value of art and nostalgia. Assayas is not my favorite filmmaker by any means but he’s consistent enough. I guess Personal Shopper is my favorite of his?

Two Friends (1986) dir. Jane Campion

TV movie about two teenagers, told somewhat in reverse order for seemingly arbitrary reasons. Not great.

The Day Shall Come (2020) dir. Chris Morris

Beginning with like a series of “establishing shots” of Miami that eventually get to college kids partying is such a terrible way to begin a movie, really signals a degree of indifference to the language of film in favor of a a product of constant churn of content that “television” once served as shorthand for. Chris Morris comes from TV, of course, so I should know what I’m in for, and British comedy of a subversively-intentioned sort puts it in the wheelhouse of things I pay attention to anyway. That’s not to say I laughed at this thing, but I sort of observed it and its intentions — it never really wants you to be comfortable enough to laugh, and while the posture it takes to its black leads is sympathetic there’s still a feeling of anthropological indifference as part of its satirical thrust. Film comedies are meant to work in a theater because of the contagious properties of laughter, and when you lose that you end up with a thing that, even if I don’t want to subject it to “Hm, this seems kinda racist” thinkpieces that are the worst-case scenario, everything about the movie seems like the best case scenario is a reaction of “I see what you did there.”

Midnight Special (2016) dir. Jeff Nichols

Fits into the tradition of not-a-superhero-movie-but-basically tradition of Scanners and The Fury, but while those are basically the X-Men, this kid, kept from the sunlight because his dad think it will hurt him but really it’s good for him, is basically The Ray, of the 1990s Christopher Priest series I didn’t read consistently but liked a few issues of. The first half of this movie, spent speeding down streets at night, while some weird things happen, involving government agencies and a cult, is considerably better than the payoff, which is the child (a kid from Room and later, Good Boys) is an angel and is going to ascend to heaven. Part of it is so low-key and tense (but in a way where it feels like if it were on mute nothing would appear to be happening) and then the other part of it has these special effects that are fairly corny? So while the whole “indie guy makes a more mainstream movie” thing generates some interest, the idea of what constitutes a mainstream movie at this point in time (while also being a throwback in some ways to eighties Spielberg, or riding an It Follows/Stranger Things wave) means being forgettable.

Atlantic City (1980) dir. Louis Malle

This was a rewatch, which normally I avoid doing, but it turns out I had forgotten basically everything about this movie, besides vague memories of shots of stairwells, the sprawl of its plot, the roaming camera. That, still, is sort of the main thing to take away, because I love how the plot sort of swirls around this apartment building, and the streets of the city, the casino where Susan Sarandon works. She plays a woman whose husband left her for her sister, and they have rolled into the city with a large amount of cocaine. Burt Lancaster plays Sarandon’s neighbor, who lusts after her, but watches after another neighbor in the apartment, an old gangster’s ex-lover. Maybe I would suggest this as a good first Louis Malle movie to watch? Then you could watch Au Revoir Les Enfants, Murmur Of The Heart, Elevator To The Gallows, and My Dinner With Andre, and some of those are maybe better movies but this is arguably the most “accessible” in terms of its relationship to gangster/crime stuff while nonetheless feeling expansive and deeper than that. It relates to Burt Lancaster’s larger career but also has such a depth of feeling it’s not just a film history thing. Wallace Shawn has a cameo as a waiter also, it’s nice to see him.

Cat People (1982) dir. Paul Schrader

This movie’s a rewatch but I remember it being “watchable” but not really good, at least not nearly as good as the original. If memory serves, this has pretty much nothing in common with the original, but there’s a scene in the original that’s very memorable that’s reprised here. There’s a lot of gratuitous nudity in this one, and it even ends with a scene that seems perverse enough it should be memorable- Where Nastassja Kinski’s limbs are tied to a bed in a bit of bondage before she has sex and gets turned into a panther, so she can safely be put into zoo custody, but I didn’t remember at all on account of it feeling more perfunctory than indelible. Also I thought there was a scene where you see a naked man climb out of a cage at the zoo but maybe that’s in another movie too. Remember when Paul Schrader made a facebook post asking whose were the best tits in the history of art?

Affliction (1997) dir. Paul Schrader

When there was a little featurette documentary on Criterion Channel where Alex Ross Perry interviewed Schrader, Schrader cited Affliction as one of his best movies. Takes place in a snowy landscape reminiscent of Fargo and A Simple Plan, the vision of small-town life feels slightly familiar from Twin Peaks too — all of these things feel “nineties” in a way. About the cycle of domestic violence being passed on from fathers to sons. Stars Nick Nolte, with Willem Dafoe as his younger brother, who narrates intermittently. Mary Beth Hurt plays Nolte’s ex-wife, Sissy Spacek plays his current lover. James Coburn plays the abusive father but I kept thinking it was Rip Torn.

Rancho Notorious (1952) dir. Fritz Lang

Another solid Fritz Lang movie, that I believe was a favorite of the French new wave filmmakers? (Who didn’t like his German stuff for some bullshit reason.) This one’s a western. A man’s fiancee gets murdered, and he tries t to track down the guy who did it, in search of revenge. There’s a recurring bit of a song narrating his desire for revenge that’s pretty bad. It turns out there’s a large ranch, run by Marlene Dietrich, where criminals can hide out if they don’t ask questions of one another and give her a share of their haul. He forms alliances, does some crimes, gets his revenge, there’s some great technicolor shots of landscapes, it’s unclear how real his feelings are for Marlene Dietrich or if they’re partly put on to win her affections, I don’t think Dietrich is that appealing personally. The thing that makes this movie cool or interesting (and maybe makes it feel particularly American, but seen from an outsider’s perspective) is this sense of bonhomie that is maybe just a total front for long-standing resentment, with love as a conditional thing.

Slightly French (1949) dir. Douglas Sirk

I found this one pretty watchable. A rough-around-the-edges fairground actress is recruited to play a French ingenue in the press as part of a long play for a director to get his job back with a studio he was fired from after alienating the original lead actress and everyone above him. The director basically only cares about making movies, and is sort of a psychopath, but she falls in love with him. The director’s sister, who warns that she also has no feelings, ends up being paired off with the producer who competes for the star’s affection for a while. Written by a woman, and feels very psychologically insightful and unjudgmental about women’s tendency or willingness to fall in love with people who treat them poorly, and to allow for the movie/genre expectations to respect that choice as the right one.

A Scandal In Paris (1946) dir. Douglas Sirk

Apparently Sirk considered this his best movie. It’s before his melodrama period, and is based on a memoir, so there’s a bit of a biopic quality to it, though it does try to be fairly concise and well-structured. About a criminal who solves a crime he committed in order to become chief of police, ostensibly to become an even bigger criminal who pulls off a huge robbery, who then goes straight instead. The criminal is also a casanova type, who seduces a series of women and makes them fall in love with him and forgive him his crimes. I would probably have liked this movie more if it was a stylized seventies thing and/or liked the actors better.

Story Of A Cheat (1936) dir. Sacha Guitry

This movie’s wild! One of the best credit sequences I’ve ever seen, establishing a pattern that the whole thing will be told mostly via narration, and this narration goes on to tell so much of the story that the visual storytelling almost seems redundant, or illustrative of the text, in a way I’d never seen in a movie. It’s structured as a man writing his memoirs, and is more literal about that structure than we normally see. But then there are parts where his writing gets interrupted and these scenes use dialogue and employ elision to discreetly set up punchlines… Really cool. Criterion’s website says this was an influence on Orson Welles, and maybe they mean F For Fake?

The Immortal Story (1968) dir. Orson Welles

I hadn’t seen this one, despite being an Orson Welles fanatic, I guess because most people would not consider it a feature film, as it’s under an hour long, and made for French television. It’s not great, kind of feels like a long short film. Welles plays an old rich man who hates the existence of fiction so much he tries to make a story that’s basically a Penthouse letter become true, casting Jeanne Moreau in the role of the woman and a much younger man as the dude who has sex with her. Based on a story by Isak Dinesen, which I’m just learning now was the pen name of a woman.

If You Could Only Cook (1935) dir. William Selter

So I kept on watching Jean Arthur movies, binging them before they left Criterion Channel at the end of June. You would expect them to blend together, and maybe they will in time but having just watched this one it’s great. Totally absurd premise becomes legit funny. The master chef from History Is Made At Night here plays an Italian gangster. The two movies would be a pretty solid double feature, as both feature pretty involved, absurd plots, based around love stories, but also featuring this weird comedic element. This one features Jean Arthur as a down-on-her-luck woman who strikes up a conversation with a guy on a park bench, convincing him they should get a job together working as a butler and cook team. He is secretly rich, and gets lessons in being a butler from his butler, and falls in love with her, a week before he is scheduled to get married to a rich woman he doesn’t actually care about. This movie is just over seventy minutes long. I am pretty unfamiliar with the screwball comedy genre and really wonder how they play with a different lead actress.

The More The Merrier (1943) dir. George Stevens

This one’s great too. Super comedic, with sort of intricately choreographed visual gags, but then the romance culminates in a scene that’s wildly horny, bordering on the pornographic despite the absence of any nudity. That’s a seduction shot in close up, where a sort of oblivious and distracted conversation occurs absentmindedly as kisses move from hand to neck. Jean Arthur rents a room to a domineering older dude (Charles Coburn, the guy from The Devil And Miss Jones, who’s funnier here) who then rents half of his room to a man he thinks would be a good for her. Feels like a big part of the comedy in these is people being absolute nightmares who force other people into going along with things they absolutely hate, and as much as I hate the idea of being someone who can’t handle an old comedy because of my modern cultural mores, such scenes are pretty nerve-wracking to me. Still, there’s something to the storytelling in this, how the initial gags build on themselves when it’s just the two of them, then the introduction of the second man sort of continues the sort of jokes that were already being made, how the comedy sort of snowballs but then takes the shape of this very real romance.

The Impatient Years (1944) dir. Irving Cummings

This was originally conceived as a quasi-sequel to The More The Merrier. It is a weird one, with a vaguely comedic premise it takes a pretty emotionally intense first act to set up. The first half hour has these long dialogues filled with tension of people not really being able to communicate. It’s written by a woman and you can really tell, holy shit, it’s closely observed. But the whole premise is fucked! Begins with a court hearing for a divorce. Jean Arthur has been hit by her husband, and her father (Charles Coburn again) who witnessed it says he can’t recommend a divorce, because then the judge would have to give a divorce to all the couples who got married too quick before the man shipped off to war. A flashback structure shows him, freshly home, smoking cigarettes above the crib of the child he’s never seen before and pretty irritable. The father argues the issue is the married couple has forgotten while they’ve fallen in love. Coburn basically sucks too- he’s in all these movies as this railroading paternalistic figure, and apparently was in his real life a white supremacist? And while The Devil And Miss Jones shows him learning to not be a piece of shit, this movie basically takes his side and argues for him being right. The judge agrees with this plan that they should spend four days retracing the steps of when they first met, before he shipped off to work. And it works, they fall back in love in the movie’s second half. But basically Jean Arthur’s whole behavior at the beginning of the movie is predicated on her having the responsibilities of a mother? And the movie just sort of argues that she’s got to learn to be a wife too, and she agrees, pitching it as this sort of romantic thing, but the actual central cause of tension is never resolved. So this movie is flawed and kinda nonsensical, but it’s interesting, partly because the beginning is like Bergman-level brutal before the contortions of a plot push it into this unnatural light comedy shape.

Arizona (1940) dir. Wesley Ruggles

This one has Jean Arthur as the female lead, opposite William Holden, but is more notable for its scope as a Western. A pretty good example of the genre being about society in microcosm, being forged from this conflict between the wild and domestic spheres. Jean Arthur both brings this semi-feminist sense of freedom to all of her roles, and she also built up a body of work of populist politics and class consciousness. This one has her as a rugged individualist frontierswoman, who runs a series of businesses as a way to make more money and accrue wealth, which ends up being a good vehicle, from a storytelling perspective, to increase the scale of action consistently. The villain runs a series of scams/conspiracies to win a profit via dishonest means. This culminates with a wedding where the man leaves his bride immediately afterwards to murder the person who’s been trying to take over her property. Probably the best western I’ve seen where the threat of Native American violence is a major plot point. It does lack the sense of atmosphere and landscape I value in a western, favoring a more storytelling more focused on plot and characters. Ends with a scene where a dude gets married and then immediately leaves to go kill someone waiting in a bar for him. (I should try to track down the George Stevens western Shane, that also features Jean Arthur.)

Whirlpool (1934) dir. Roy William Neill

This isn’t as top shelf as the other Jean Arthur movies but it’s pretty good. A man goes to prison, fakes his own death for the sake of his wife so she’ll move on. Jean Arthur plays the daughter, who meets him once he gets out, but needs to keep him a secret from her mother, who has remarried but would probably wreck her life for the other man’s sake. This is a pretty weird movie, both structurally, and because the father-daughter relationship feels quasi-incestuous: She abandons dates with her fiancee to spend time with her father, etc. The movie handles it semi-innocently, but I guess I had just been hearing about how when things like this happen in real life, and adult children meet their parents for the first time as adults, there often is an irresistible desire between them. So the movie kind of feels like it’s basically about something super-fucked-up but is trying to depict it as innocent, but also just the raw emotion Jean Arthur displays as she cries when they meet for the first time is really intense! She doesn’t even show up until like 1/3 of the way through the movie but she gives it such emotional weight.

Party Wire (1935) dir. Erle Kenton

This movie’s charming and watchable but yeah not one of the better ones. It’s about a pretty interesting thing- In small towns in this era basically cheaper for there to be a telephone line everyone can listen in on. This ends up being a movie about small town gossip and resentment, where the villains are old women with too much time on their hands. It’s also about Jean Arthur being a wildly charming “real” person who wins the heart of a rich man who every woman is after, so while she’s good in the part there’s an element of formula executed better elsewhere. Here she has a father who’s drunk all the time, his alcoholism is a big running gag that gets a little exhausted. Also apparently there’s an app now that’s basically a party wire?

The Whole Town’s Talking (1935) dir. John Ford

Felt pretty ambivalent about this one too, which is more of an Edward G Robinson vehicle. This is meant to be a comedy, but I don’t really think the jokes come off that well, and the sense of reversals feels a little pat. Realized my best friend from high school looks sorta like Edward G Robinson now and worked out a way to remake it starring him. The Robinson version is about a guy who works as a clerk in an office, writes on the side, but learns he is the doppelganger of a killer gangster who just escaped from prison, who’s played by Robinson as well. This leads to his worldly coworker he has a crush on developing an interest in him, but also a lot of cases of mistaken identity with the police, who give him a note saying that while he looks like the person they’re trying to arrest, they’re not the same guy. The gangster then reads about this in the news and breaks into his apartment to get this “passport” from him. The remake I envision plays off of the fact that people are no longer famous for doing crimes enough to attract the attentions of a savvy young woman. But what if it was some dumb Youtube prankster, who is constantly committing crimes, that has the police after him? And then it’s basically the same movie.

Public Hero No. 1 (1935) dir. J. Walter Rubin

More of a heavy-duty crime thing, about the head of a gang busting out of prison, reuniting with his gang to do crimes, not knowing the cellmate he broke out of prison with is an undercover cop. Jean Arthur ends up caught in the middle, falling in love with the cop (not knowing he’s a cop) while being the sister of the criminal she hopes goes straight. She enlivens the movie quite a bit but it’s a familiar enough plot to still come up a little bit short. Would maybe benefit from more atmosphere in the crime bits and less comedy bits about an alcoholic doctor slowing it down.

You Can’t Take It With You (1938), Mr. Smith Goes To Washington (1939) dir. Frank Capra

Watched these for Jean Arthur, though they are classics for being Frank Capra movies, Jimmy Stewart movies, and sort of archetypal in their depiction of sincerity and the opposition of the rich and powerful. So that is to say that while my favorite movies I’ve watched recently have felt genre-less, or like they participate in every genre, these feel far more like you know where they’re going pretty much from the start: In the case of Mr. Smith Goes To Washington that’s partly because of things like there being an episode of The Simpsons that parodies/reuses it.

Mr. Deeds Goes To Town (1936) dir. Frank Capra

Also has Jean Arthur as the female lead, here playing opposite Gary Cooper. When they remade this as an Adam Sandler vehicle, Winona Ryder took the Jean Arthur role. Gary Cooper inherits money, comes to the big city, everyone wants the money, Jean Arthur writes news articles mocking him as a rube while slowly falling in love with his sincerity. In the end his decision to give the money to the poor outrages everyone in power and they try to argue he’s not mentally fit. All these Frank Capra movies are longer than the other Jean Arthur movies, (two hours, as opposed to an hour and a half) and also are not really focused on her, though she’s the best part of them.

Ball Of Fire (1941) dir. Howard Hawks

Billy Wilder cowrites this, and it’s maybe his best comedic script? Lot of good jokes in this, feel like this would’ve blown people away in 1941. Gary Cooper plays a naive nerd grammarian who in the course of realizing he needs cover modern slang for his encyclopedia runs into Barbara Stanwyck, as a gangster’s moll, hilarity ensues, they fall in love, both leads are great, supporting cast is big and funny, Gary Cooper in Mr. Deeds plays a somewhat naive hayseed, the character here is similarly out of his element but it’s because he’s a big nerd, which is a lot funnier. Stanwyck’s world-weariness giving way to affection for a bunch of old people while continuing to use language they don’t understand and sort of run all over them as they fall over here is a great bit. Really well-written, there’s a Billy Wilder movie starring Jean Arthur (A Foreign Affair, from 1948) I haven’t seen but would like to track down. Sort of fascinating preoccupation with gangsters in these movies, but also positing innocence as a virtue, but in a way that runs counter to “virgin/whore” reductionism. I guess a lot of this comes about because it precedes the post-war mass migration of white people to the suburbs? Organized crime was a big part of people’s lives. I hadn’t seen any Howard Hawks movies until recently I think? Unless I saw one of his westerns or screwball comedies in college. He’s good!

The Sniper (1952) dir. Edward Dmytrk

This one’s interesting in terms of feeling very ahead of its time but also like it would never be made now. About a dude whose misogyny causes him to shoot women with a sniper rifle, the same rifle that apparently any ex-soldier would carry. Probably a pretty tough and upsetting watch, as it’s just about a dude being insane, hoping the police arrest him, and him having interactions with women where he very quickly becomes upset when they realize he’s weird, so he follows them with a gun. Director was blacklisted, the only real overt political sentiment is “get perverts and people who assault women serious mental health care after their first offense.”

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cherryyharryy · 4 years

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I’ll Be Okay

WC:1k

Warnings: Smut

The interpretations of Dreams, Sigmund Freud. Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch, Henry Miller. The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck.

It looks like the books are moving. The bed is creaking, an awful, rusted squeaking sound that I’ll remember for years. Sweat is building up in the same places as when I wake in the middle of the night in August. But I can’t get up to stumble across the room to turn the fan on. It looks like the books are moving, but it’s just me.

When I look down I can hardly see my body; he’s covering up so much. I wonder if my sweat bothers him. I guess not, because then he might get off.

Moby Dick, Herman Melville. The Order of Time, Carlo Revelli. A Journal of the Plague Year, Daniel Defoe.

It’s like the books are shaking now. And he’s grunting now. When he stops and pulls out, I realize how dehydrated I am, because it takes too long for relief to register in my brain. And then once it does, it’s too late. I’m flipped over like a doll.

It’s almost two AM. I watch the second hand for an entire revolution. What time was it when I got here? How did I get here?

He said, “I’ve been watching you all night.”

I said, “I just got here.”

I remember the drink he gave me. I poured it out. I pretended to take a sip and then poured it out. And you might think I was being too nice to a guy who thought complimenting my eyes was enough, but it was done out of habit. He couldn’t even see my eyes.

The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade, Peter Weiss. The Hound of the Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle. The Holy Bible.

He’s good at what he does. He’s patient. He starts with sweet names. Then it’s a hand on your knee. And you think, it’s just my knee, I’m okay. Then a hand on your back, rubbing your neck, thumb on your cheek. I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.

He brought up his apartment like it was a new idea. Like people didn’t visit other people and he’s the first one to think of it. He tugged me off my stool, and I forgot how to say no.

The wallpaper is torn by the door. It’s some God awful print from the 70’s. I smell alcohol. His mouth is by my ear. No, I don’t like that you bastard. I’m okay. I’ll be okay.

And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks, Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs. History of the Rain, Niall Williams. Eleven Poems, Seamus Heaney

The lights are off and there’s a lava lamp on his desk. All my clothes are on the floor. His are still on. My arms are weak, and I fall onto his bed. My face is pushed into the sheets. Not even the pillow. I don’t even get a pillow.

More sweat, accumulating on my skin, like swarms of mosquitoes landing and sticking to me. More and more. I can’t breathe. It hurts. I hate him. I want to die.

He studies English. He wants to travel. He went to Japan three years ago and he’s never been the same. He’s thinking about going vegan. It’s amazing how many facts a man will tell you about themselves when they can’t take their eyes off your breasts. And apparently, I feel so fuckin’ good. I wouldn’t know

I like to read too. Why did I tell him that? Why did I offer anything up? Checkmate. He had me. I opened the door for him. He plowed through before I could step out of the way. You should come over and see my collection. I think you’ll like it.

The Hobbit, J.R.R Tolkien. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov.

A very boring city sits outside the window; I have a view now. I’ve been placed ever so delicately on the edge of his bed. The squeaking is worse now. And the headboard bangs against the wall. It’s an old, chipped gold railing type. I’ve hit my head three times so far. I said shit each time and he said nothing.

It’s so dark out I can pretend I’m anywhere. Just a skyline of buildings. New York, London, Paris. I’ll be okay. Paris. I’m in Paris. If I squint, the water tower can be the Eiffel Tower. The power plant...the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I’m in Italy now. Maybe—

“I’m so close.”

Nevermind.

The sounds he makes when he’s finally finishing, are, without exaggeration, revolting. And then as he’s zipping his jeans he’s humming. Rocket Man. I’ll have to remember to delete it off my playlist. I’m surprised—dumbfounded—when he tosses the condom in the trash. I hate that I can’t remember him ever putting it on.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens. Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business, Neil Postman and Andrew Postman.

I pick up my clothes piece by piece. They burn when I slide them on.

Television: Seeing by Wire or Wireless, Alfred Dinsdale. Watership Down, Richard Adams. The Midnight Watch: A Novel of the Titanic and the Californian, David Dyer.

“You weren’t lying,” I say, scanning the bookshelf now that they’ve stopped moving.

“‘Course not.”

The Stories of Anton Chekhov, Anton Chekhov. The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce.

He moves past me, the bathroom door shutting a moment after. I step back to see the top shelves.

The Odyssey, Homer. The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri.

I said yes. To everything. I can’t really blame him for hating myself. I reach up and slip Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, off and fan the pages under my nose. The bathroom door starts opening, and I shove the book into the waistband of my pants.

“You wanna stay? Smoke a little?”

“No, I’m just gonna go.”

The Sound and the Fury, by William Faulkner. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee. The Trial, Frank Kafka.

He says something else, but I’m already passing by his couch. “Thanks for the book,” I whisper. “I’ll add it to my own collection.” You should come see it sometime.

#i forgot all about this #from 2017 #that feels so long ago #cherryyharryy #cherryyharryy writing #my poetry

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paullrud · 5 years

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seven days in paris – lax → ory

plot: seven days in paris with tom to fix your relationship. warnings: dialogue, swearing, pairings: tom holland x reader notes: sad things :( word count: 1.6k

on boarding flight

runaways. you and tom were runaways. well, not technically, because both your friends and family knew you were going to paris together via instagram, but that’s what you both felt like together. runaways.

as you both boarded the plane–from los angeles to paris–you smiled happily at each other. that you finally had time just you two. it was really an “us against the world” situation at the moment and you guys wouldn’t have it any other way. these last few months have been tough on both of you. conflicting schedules, different timezones, you and tom were definitely out of sink.

every missed call, text and facetime reminded you of so, but you or tom always reassured each other that it was just one of those weeks, though they turned into months.

you cried when you sent the last text. it was a simple “i will always love you.” he read it, but never returned it. so, initially, you thought the relationship was over. the next week, you tried easing your mind by going out to different clubs in los angeles every night with your friends, but you knew only one person could comfort you, and it was tom.

when tom got that text, he was in atlanta, in the middle of playing poker with his brothers, tuwaine and harrison. it was his way of unwinding after a tough day of shooting spiderman: far from home. he’d love nothing more than to facetime to you but he didn’t want you to see him stressed out.

tom admitted to himself a while ago that this spiderman role was taking up way more time away than it should have. but he loves it. and you support him doing it. but, it’s times like these when he feels guilty. and when he got that text? his heart sunk.

“no no no no no no no,” he repeated to himself mostly, making everyone look at him expectantly. he just shoved his phone in the middle of the table and walked out of the room and onto the balcony.

for a second he thought a drink would solve his problem, but he knew better than to drink, because one drink led to another and then another and that would upset you if he called you drunk.

harrison was the first to go after tom, stepping out on the balcony quietly as if not to disturb his thoughts, which he later would anyways.

“you love her?” harrison questioned, snapping tom out of his overthinking trance.

“of course. i always have and i always will,” tom said immediately, without a doubt in his mind.

“then why does she think it’s over?”

a lot of reasons crossed toms mind, more than he’d like to admit. because he hasn’t seen her in a few months. because he hasn’t made time for her. because they’re drifting apart. because he hasn’t said what he needs to and making her wait isn’t right. because, because, because.

after their brief conversation, tom came to the conclusion that he needed to see you, and he’d do so no matter what. all through the week, if he wasn’t filming he was contacting your managers and publicists to see if they could make wiggle room in your schedule for you to see him, leaving you out of the dark so it could be a surprise. he also made production halt for the next week, saying to find scenes where he wasn’t in and shoot them, making you his number one priority.

your managers and publicists found a way to sneak one week off by pushing interviews and photoshoots back. they were initially not so keen on doing so, but seeing your lackluster self these past few days, they knew it was necessary.

“she’s doing bad, tom,” one of your managers said to him on the phone as he was boarding his flight from atlanta to los angeles.

his heart broke because he knew it was his doing. you manager went on to say you’ve been going out everynight and not coming back until four in the morning. tom sighed sadly, and told your manager that he’s on his way and would be landing in a few hours.

meanwhile, you asked “what’s on the schedule for the next week?” to alyssa, your manager, as you got ready for another night of clubbing. you didn’t know who was playing, but you knew your friends were going and had a table with bottle service.

alyssa just hung up with what you assumed was your other manager, paul, and asked “how are you?”

you hummed and said a quick “fine.”

alyssa’s been your manager for ten years, she saw right through your lie. you looked at the mirror, noticing her behind you, looking at you sternly. you rested your hands on the bathroom table top because knew you weren’t going to get out of this one.

“i thought we were going to make it,” you began, “i saw everything when i was with tom. the ring, the kids, even the house for fucks sake. and i know he saw it too… there was a time where we would see each other everyday. but now? i’m having trouble remembering his voice.”

“i think your letting go of tom too easily, this isn’t how it should be done. you and tom are more than this rough patch, you’ll get through it.”

“i told myself that for 14 weeks, Lys. at the end, we were playing relationship roulette. i was just the one who pulled the trigger… now here i am on a goddamn sunday night going out, knowing i’ll have a miserable time because tom’s not here.”

“i’m not telling you what to do tonight, that’s on you. i’m just stating the facts: when you were with tom you were the happiest i’ve seen you. don’t let your one chance of happiness slip away.”

you huffed and looked down at your heels. alyssa left the room as soon as your phone rang, signalling your friends have arrived. you quickly got your clutch and walked down the stairs, your mindset focusing on trying to have a good time tonight.

as you arrived to the club, you were already buzzed from the champagne in the limo. your friends were more than buzzed, so you had a funny feeling you were going to play mom tonight.

the music was blarring as you got to the table, everything and everyone around you in a haze. as you sat down and sipped on a drink you ordered, you watched everyone have a good time. you’ve always had a struggle with letting loose without tom, and tonight was no different.

you saw friends come and go to and from the dance floor. by midnight, you decided to get some fresh air, maybe call a cab to get home. you hate leaving your friends, but you didn’t like to get as drunk as them.

as you stepped outside, the cool breeze hit you, since you’ve been in a hot room all night. you looked into your clutch to see if you had a spare cigarette. you always keep one around, just in case you’re too stressed out. you never found the need since you’ve been with tom, he helped you get off of them, but tonight seemed like the perfect moment.

you flicked the lighter a few times, but no fire came out. you were about to give up and go inside when someone handed theirs to you.

“need a lighter, love?” a familiar british accent offered.

it was tom. you could’ve thought of a million other people to offer their lighter but you would’ve never guessed tom would be here, standing next to you, to say that. your eyes welled up with tears, thankful that he was here. you wanted to touch him, you wanted to hold him, but you knew better.

you were heartbroken over him and you weren’t giving in that easily. you thanked him kindly and flicked the lighter to burn the cigarette. you both stood in silence as you inhaled.

“our relationship was strong, what happened to us?” tom was the first to ask.

as you exhaled the remaining smoke, you said, “the short answer? you left to film.”

“that’s not fair, that was for work, and you know it. i couldn’t help that!”

“then the long answer. you left for work–which i totally don’t blame you for–but you forgot to take me with you. i could’ve easily found work down there, and don’t come at me with the ‘los angeles is your home’ bit, i would’ve left everything for you. i would’ve follow you anywhere, as long as we’re together.”

“then follow me to paris.”

“we’re not together anymore, tom. it doesn’t work like that.”

you rolled your eyes tiredly as you stubbed out the butt of the cigarette. as soon as you stopped to look at tom he took your hands and pulled you in close.

“i can show you that we’re more than this rough patch. i talked to your managers and publicists, and begged them to give you a week off. now please, follow me to paris.”

he smiled at you as you nodded your head reluctantly, even though you were really excited to get familiar with tom again, as well as going to the city of love. a vechile quickly pulled up after tom sent a text, and you noticed harrison was the driver.

“did you plan all of this?”

he just shook his head excitedly.

“what if i said no?”

“i know you better than that. you love adventures, you love new places and most importantly you could never say no to me.”

#seven days in paris #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland series #tom holland imagine #paullrud #mine #creds to the gif maker #marvel cast

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parisianpicnic · 5 years

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Partying with les pompiers of Paris (Bastille Day part 1)

Five months into my trip, I was feeling as Parisian as ever. I was proudly downing two pain au chocolat for breakfast each morning, I knew where to get the best coffee, and I could mostly get around without having to glance at a map on my phone. I was reminded of just how far I'd come when July—tourist season—struck. With each successive jump of mercury there was what seemed like an extra thousand tourists sprawled throughout the city. I, now a self-confessed local, felt totally justified in my dramatic eye rolls whenever getting stuck behind a conglomerate of slow-walking said tourists in the métro or in the street. Yes, I'd branded myself a true expat. What better way to show off how much of a local you are than by celebrating Bastille Day?

Bastille Day, also known as la fête nationale or le 14 juillet marks yet another of France's colourful (by which I mean violent and bloody) spots in history. ('Which one?' you ask. 'The prison-storming, social class upheavel one in the French revolution', I reply). It largely, however, acts as the country's national holiday, with a nod to the aforementioned revolution whilst celebrating the union of France. Meanwhile, my framework of what constituted a national holiday was only guided by my experiences growing up with Australia Day. As such, I was set for a fairly relaxed day of music, drinking, and a few snags on the barbecue (or whatever the French equivalent of a barbecue is). How wrong I was.

Turns out, there's another tradition that is celebrated—and with excellent reason—on Bastille Day. Friends, (single guys and gals out there in particular, pay attention), allow me to present what is perhaps one of the reasons why France is one of the greatest countries in the world: le bal des pompiers.

The bal des pompiers (or 'Fireman's Ball') is what I consider to be the ultimate way to 'get amongst the traditions of France'. For two (I repeat, two) nights only, the firemen of the local firestations of Paris open their doors to the public to throw what can only be described as a the richest cultural experience a little old foreigner like me could ask for. Flowing booze, an electrifying dance floor, and eye candy dressed in uniform that does not disappoint, plus... a four hour wait to get in to the best firestation. Unless, of course, you're one half of the Australian and American girl duo.

Introducing Brooke, my new all-American BFF. Just a month prior, I found Brooke wandering my workplace as a customer, and she left as my new favourite expat in Paris. We hit it off, swapping hilarious and somewhat cringeworthy dating stories and life as an expat over numerous coffee dates, and she's been the 'g'day' to my 'mate' ever since. She outright refuses any opportunity to eat Vegemite (a work in progress), has no problem befriending strangers (even when she shouldn't) and is the life of any party. Her heart and mind are both bright and genuine, and she's as California as they come. She makes her way through life with the beauty, confidence, and killer dance moves to make her the belle of any ball. Luckily, the bal des pompiers was no exception.

Not being brave enough to front the ball (or many events for that matter) on my own, I gladly took on the role of Brooke’s plus one. Before hitting the town, our first stop was at a friend of Vincent's (Brooke's boyfriend)—just a little soirée in Rue Blanche of the 9th arrondissement. Being a resident of the 9th myself, I was keen to meet some of my fellow neighbours. Turns out, Vincent has some seriously glamorous friends, and I am officially their very unglamorous neighbour.

The party was well and truly underway by the time I arrived. I stepped into a beautifully furnished apartment, with wooden floorboards sweeping out onto a terrace boasting views of Sacré Coeur. Across the balcony, seemingly painted onto the glass of the building opposite, was an iridescent reflection of the Eiffel Tower. Most of the guests were out in the presence of said view, seemingly oblivious to its magic (I guess they were real locals). Being a plus one (let alone a plus one's plus one) means that you can often quietly take in a few of these moments for yourself. Tonight was certainly going to be full of many ‘pinch me’ moments.

By the end of the night—despite being twenty years younger than the median age and way underdressed for the occasion—we'd mixed, mingled, and danced with Vincent's friends. I even scored some makeup tips from Stephane, a very glamorous and very Parisian man who worked in the fashion and makeup industry (and who even had his own makeup line!). The guests were all charming, sophisticated, and charismatic, and fortunately, the conversation steered well away from work (given the calibre of the guests, Brooke and I weren't that confident that 'au pair' would qualify us as being sufficiently cool to be there). It wasn't until just before we left that Vincent revealed just with whom we were mingling: the director of Dior, the man who discovered Alexander McQueen, Kate Moss's manager, and Stephane Marais, one of France's most highly regarded makeup artists (I was now seriously thankful that I asked him earlier in the night about his favourite foundation). No wonder the champagne was so good.

Not wanting to overstay our welcome, and being insatiably curious about the traditions around Bastille Day, Brooke and I decided to bid au revoir to our new high profile friends and check out the firestation down the street. We flew down the stairs and headed to the gate's of Sapeurs Pompiers, the firestation of the 9th arrondissement. Admittedly, we knew that on a night like this, we needed to play the foreigner card—and it worked. Before long, we'd befriended the pompier manning the gates, and were swiftly let through the entrance. We linked arms, determined not to get separated, and climbed over bottles and through crowds of people, eventually making it to the bar. At these parties, the firemen are partying hard but they're also working hard. They filled every role of the party: bartenders, security, dancers, and they’re still technically on call as firefighters. We honestly didn't know where to look. Our bartender was so hot could've started fires. Brooke and I raised our eyebrows at each other whilst he fetched us a drink each. Next thing I know, Brooke had handed him my phone and he was entering his number. Did I mention Brooke is also a fabulous wingwoman? It wasn't long before the crowds were clearing out of Sapeurs, so we decided to get to the real heart of the action. Rumour has it, the firemen Saint Paul in Le Marais throw the most outrageous, wild parties of them all. Of course, we had to check it out.

It was well after midnight by the time we arrived, and fortunately, the four-hour queue had turned into just a few minutes. We practically paraded through the entrance, bestowing the firemen at the entrance with a kiss on each cheek (they winked and told us that the kiss on the cheek and a gold coin donation were for charity). Despite the late hour, the place was absolutely booming, and we headed straight to the bar before hitting the dancefloor. Our exoticness was no secret: by the way we were loudly talking and obnxiously dancing, I don't think that there was any risk of being mistaken for two chic Parisian girls.

It seemed to work though, because before long, one of the chief firemen had taken a shining to Brooke. We got an 'off limits to the public' tour of the actual firestation which was actually super interesting, and finished the night having, in our posession, an extremely coveted invitation to return to the party the following night. Each fireman only gets two of these invitations (allowing the recipient to skip the monstrous queue) for close family and friends. And this delightful fireman had bestowed his rare, handwritten invitation, to Brooke, with yours truly scoring the role of her plus one.

Having locked in our spots for round two of the party, and eager to witness the full majesty that is the Bastille Day parade in the morning, we decided to call it a night... or so we thought. At the exit? A red-eyed, panicked Vincent was waiting for Brooke, simultaneously distressed and furious that he hadn't been able to get a hold of her. I won't spill the dirty details here (that's what Brooke's blog is for), but it's safe to say that one of those firemen would've come in real handy to put out the flames that was Vincent's temper and ability to jump to conclusions. Within minutes we were at his apartment, and grabbed what we could of her things (what hadn't been sprawled out across the floor in anger at least), and called an Uber back to mine. Paris is for the romantics, true, but even here, romance as a dark side, too.

#paris #au pair #au pair paris #aupair #france #aupairparis #expat #pfw #14 juillet #bal de pompiers #fete nationale #le bal des pompiers #bal des pompiers #july 14 #bastille day #parisian picnic #parisianpicnic

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surveysonfleek · 5 years

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1363.

Having a day I can consider one of the “best days of my life” The style from the 60s and 70s Airports Crossword puzzles Film photography Quotes I can relate to Running THINGS I DISLIKE: The ’80s Rap music Dislike/hatred of/towards animals Feeling an unavoidable sadness within me Ignorance People who think that everything is a joke Unnecessary rudeness Celery Clothing with fringe When people do things just to “follow the pack” Waiting Confrontation Not being taken seriously by others Feeling incompetent Clichés When my feet are cold Not being able to respond to someone’s message right away for whatever reason Indulging myself in things Romantic comedies Being alone in total darkness MUSICIANS & BANDS I LOVE: The Beatles Paul McCartney Pink Floyd Simon & Garfunkel The Who Bob Dylan George Harrison Led Zeppelin Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young Paul Simon Billy Joel Elton John The Beach Boys The Doors David Bowie FILMS I LOVE: Empire of the Sun Atonement Up In The Air Beginners Inglourious Bastards I’m Not There The Descendants Schindler’s List The Graduate My Neighbor Totoro Kiki’s Delivery Service Help! The Darjeeling Limited The Royal Tenenbaums Midnight in Paris BOOKS I LOVE: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close The Book Thief The Catcher in the Rye Ordinary People The Foxman The Hole We’re In The Fault In Our Stars The Fates Will Find Their Way Pictures of Hollis Woods The Graveyard Book THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO DO IN THE FUTURE: Go on a long road trip lasting at least a month Meet at least one of my “idols” Live in New York City Be in a film, even if only in a minor role Travel around Europe Meet someone who shares my interests and way of thinking and have a close relationship with them Have a farm Decorate (and even build) my own home Be renowned for some reason or other Visit a particular museum or monument I’M FOND OF: Cats. Weed. New experiences. Getting to know people I have things in common with. Aliens. Horror films. Surveys. Mythology. Nature. The beach. The X-Files. Conspiracy Theories. Documentaries. History. Reading. Clothes. Taking Walks. Tattoos. Quadding/Four-wheeling. Classic Rock. Straight forward people. Metal. Poetry. The Sims. I’M NOT FOND OF: Extremists. Closed-minded people. Cheese. People who judge or worry about the decisions/opinions of others. Disrespect/Ignorance. The media. Cleaning. Romantic Comedies. Bugs. ‘Reality’ TV shows. Technology taking over *every* aspect of life. Overdramatic people. Today’s music. Cliches. People who hold certain sentiments simply because the mass majority feels that way. Facebook. Self-righteousness. Being stared at. Being condescended to. Being ignored. Beer. Snow/Ice. Feeling trapped in my own head. I enjoy eating/drinking: Steak. Shrimp. Pizza Pringles. Ben & Jerry’s. Rice. Potatoes. Bagels. Fruit. Skor bars. Aloe Vera drinks. Bolthouses. Water. Chicken. Salads. Omelets. Zucchini. Dark Russet chips. Hot chocolate. I like to watch: The X-Files. Law & Order: SVU. The Twilight Zone. American Horror Story. Married With Children. Twin Peaks. King Of The Hill. Nightmare Next Door. Wicked Attraction. Roseanne. That 70’s Show. Freaks & Geeks. Breaking Bad. Charmed. Family Guy. The Wonder Years. I would describe myself as: Laid back. Accepting. Indifferent. Realistic. Ill-tempered. Sarcastic. Blunt. Introverted. Witty. Good-natured. Understanding. Open-minded. Anxious. Headstrong. Honest. Lazy. Moody/Neurotic. Wise. Thick-skinned. Logical. Aloof. Impartial. Cynical. Humorous. Indecisive. Intuitive. Loyal. Modest. Brooding. I’ve experienced: A hangover. A really bad break-up. Smoking weed. Doing drugs other than weed. Being in a fist fight. Having my own house. Being on a plane. Smoking a cigarette. Sexual assault/abuse. A pregnancy. Being kicked out of my parent’s house. Hitchhiking. Shooting a gun. Physical abuse. Being hospitalized. An abusive relationship. Watching someone die. Seeing someone stabbed and/or shot. Being robbed. Competing in some sort of competition. Being in love. Gambling in a casino. A surgery of some sort.

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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appareils-futiles · 2 years

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Nueva York, Te 💕 Amare Siempre

‘’New York is sophisticated. New York is captivating. New York is enticing. New York is romantic. Especially when it rains.’’ I saw ‘’ A Rainy Day in New York’’ the other day (coincidentally started this post then and Tumblr decided to delete it, ghetto, I know) and it was the typical Woody Allen film, always raining, same cadence, same story. Ok, fine. Whatever, the point it is, it was predictable. It wasn’t bad, it’s definately rewatchable if you can stand an uber perky Elle Fanning somehow getting 4 different men to fall in love with her in one day. It’s no Midnight in Paris. Seems like much was left to the imagination. Like Inez said in Midnight in Paris, ‘‘Why does every city got to be in the rain?’‘ Paul responds: And no global warming, no TV and suicide bombing, and nuclear weapons, drug cartels. But anywho, the scene where she walks into the Carlyle with nothing but a raincoat on bothered me, cause I’m like ‘’you left your shoes back at Francisco’s place so how do you have them on now?’’, then how she could never remember the hotel they are staying at...where all her stuff is. Ditzy blonde at it’s finest. But when Gatsby offers to get her coffee and tells her to take off the wet raincoat, she says she can’t cause she’s not wearing anything underneath, and Gatsby is literally not even bothered. I mean, it’s safe to assume she was messing with another guy because she’s got her bra and panties but no clothes. A raincoat that isn’t hers. No umbrella and she’s exhausted so she was running in the pouring rain in a city she doesn’t know and has no idea where to go. She cant tell Gatsby because she left everything Francisco’s place. Yet, he’s unbothered. Why? Because he at that point developed feelings for Chan. So it was whatever. I figured she’d tell him the deets and then he’d get upset. Yes, he’s eccentric and slightly snotty and you can tell from the jump that a city boy who said he transferred from Yale and has rich ass parents and a girl from Tuscon, Arizona who is also wealthy and a beauty queen, yet clearly ditzy you can tell they werent compatible. Did he get mad? No. She said that Rolland (much older director) had asked her to go to Europe with him. Run away!....not a peep from Gatsby, his agent, fell for her after running around town looking for Rolland and catching his wife cheating with his best friend, not a peep from Gatsby, she drank with and almost slept with Francisco, a huge movie star, she kissed him, took of her clothes and was literally not caring about Gatsby that she’s willing to sleep with this star. Not a peep from Gatsby, my guy was unbothered. In the carriage ride, he realized they were incompatible when ol girl had the audacity to confuse Shakespeare with Cole Porter: "The roaring traffic's boom. Silence in my lonely room." the expression on his face was priceless. I replayed it a few times. And he dumps her. He drops out of college, comes back to the city and starts seeing Chan, who he’s clearly more compatible with. (weird cause he dated her older sister, presumibly in HS, which was like 2 yrs before) ‘’ I need a carbon monoxide to survive. We are two different creatures, right? You like the sound of crickets and I like the rattle of the taxies. You blossom in the sun and me, I come into my own under grey skies.’’ --Gatsby to Ashleigh And that’s it, that’s the movie. Literally that’s the movie. The B stories don’t matter. ‘’One thing about New York City. You are here or you are nowhere. You cannot achieve another level of anxiety, hostility or paranoia anywhere else.’’ But anywho, the whole point of this post was for me to talk about how much I love my city. (Im actually from The Bronx, but whatever) I love this city, like Adriana said in Midnight in Paris ‘’ That Paris exists and anyone could choose to live anywhere else in the world will always be a mystery to me. ‘‘ Switch Paris to New York and there you have me. I left New York in 2014 because I had to. I moved to Po-dunk Virginia, went through hell and back and somehow didn’t blow my brains out. Mostly because I was too broke to afford a gun. Many times I considered it but who would care? I got the opportunity to go to Texas, and I took it. As a last ditch effort to not you know, die. The plan was the same as previously mentioned for Virginia, get some type of degree. A 2 year, maybe vet tech and after saving some money, learning how to take the buses and have some experience, (6 months) cause the whole 3 year situation was never a thought!....and head back to NY. That didnt work out. Clearly. But that’s a whole other post that I can’t possibly begin to unpack right now. And here I am. Again. In the Bronx. With not a damn thing but a bad shoulder, anxiety, depression, a temper and a crippled hand to show for it. You’d think I’d at least get my GED. And I havent but it’s not for my lack of trying. Even with it’s dark, gritty, rats, and dollar pizzas. It’s mine. It’s my city. It’s the greatest city in the world. And 8.80 million people can’t be wrong. Ok, Im upset now, I’ll carry on later. 1.30.22. m722

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sembell · 6 years

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Moving Forward - Chapter 54

It’s been some time, but the longer the wait the longer the chapter, I guess?! Thank you guys so much for your patience, your encouraging words and your constructive feedback! I still love writing this story as a way to escape into an alternate reality that, as of now, makes me feel so much better than the actual reality (whatever that is :P) The title of this chapter is based on my very first encounter with Gillian at the Toulouse Game Show in 2015, when I was standing in front of her, ready to get my poster signed. Her phone buzzed, she looked at it and went “Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” and then typed something. Who knows what happened there, but this is what I made out of it for the MF-universe :)

NC-17 warning!

“Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” Gillian Anderson

September, and with it the end of filming, came around much faster than expected.

Parting ways had always been difficult, but incredibly hard after spending three and a half months together - as a family.

A few days after wrapping, David and Gillian found themselves, once again, on completely different continents, thousands of miles apart from each other. When he’d started to film the second season of Aquarius in Los Angeles, Gillian had flown out to Nepal with Piper and her sister to shed Aaron’s ashes. Right after their short and highly emotional trip, she traveled to India to shoot her new movie Viceroy’s House.

The weeks went by excruciatingly slow, even though their days were always busy and packed with an enormous workload.

By the middle of October, she was still shooting the movie in Jodhpur while David found himself at the New York Comic Con with Mitch and Chris, starting the promotion of their six-episode-event-series.

Although she couldn’t be with them, she had sent a video of her sitting by the pool, sounding somewhat like Lady Mountbatten and making a teasing comment about one of the pool boys. David grinned to himself as the audience cheered, remembering all those hours they’d watched documentaries and recorded her voice during breaks, and how much they’d laughed over her weird accent.

They’d started the panel with screening the first episode, and the rest of it went smooth and enjoyable, mostly due to Kumail, whose love and excitement for the show was basically endless.

At some point, right in the middle of an audience’s question, David’s phone buzzed on his upper thigh. With a quick glance down, he saw that Gillian had tweeted something.

Lying in bed in Jodhpur watching live NYCC panel. Miss you guys. Especially one of you.

He pursed his lips and read it again.

Especially one of you.

And then again.

Suddenly, Chris had started to talk again, and David raised his head abruptly, his eyes wandering over the audience. He had no idea what the question was, but it was answered quickly, and Mitch was talking again. And that was basically the rest of the panel for David. He just wasn’t able to concentrate anymore, especially since his phone kept on buzzing with new messages coming from his little tease over in India.

“She just texted me about my flow,” David said bashfully as he followed Mitch off the stage. The panel had just ended, and they were already on their way back to the media area where they were supposed to give a couple of interviews.

Mitch chuckled, turned around and gave David a pat on the back. “Did she watch us live?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“What does she think about your flow?”

“She says it’s flowing just fine, she’s still turned on by the way I handle my chunky monologues,” David answered, and they both fell into hearty laughter.

There was another message that he’d received during the panel, which he didn’t show Mitch, that said:

> Is that handsome dude on my screen really my boyfriend? I miss him terribly <

She knew exactly how to sweeten him up.

> I thought he’s right there with you, providing cold drinks and fresh fruit? <

A couple of seconds later, she started to type, and it didn’t take long for another text to pop up:

> :P - I wish! Y’all looked fantastic though. I’m so sad I couldn’t be there and watch the episode! Is it any good? <

> It’s good, the audience liked it. <, he replied and began to chew on the inside of his cheek as a new wave of longing came over him.

Right then, he couldn’t have cared less about the episode. All he could think of was kissing her in that pool by her hotel, running his nose over her cute little freckles and smelling her delicious, sunkissed skin.

Yes, he was desperate. And who could really blame him after all those weeks without her? Though admittedly, it had started to become fun to play with all the possibilities they had nowadays to stay in contact and feel somewhat close. David especially had become a big fan of those little sexting games she would constantly come up with. He certainly couldn’t imagine his life without being able to play “Queen of the day” with her anymore.

Unfortunately, nothing was even remotely close to what it felt like to have her in his arms, kiss her beautiful lips and tell her he loved her while looking into her deep blue eyes.

A couple of weeks later, David landed at London Heathrow Airport on a gloomy Friday afternoon, tired to the bones and aching from a long week on set.

He had been looking forward to their first weekend together in what felt like forever, at least up until last Tuesday, when he received a call from a very angry, but also abashed Gillian, telling him that the convention she would attend this weekend wasn’t actually taking place in Paris, as she assumed it would, but in a little French town called Toulouse, which was basically in the middle of nowhere.

All their plans for a nice, long weekend together with the kids, visiting the Eiffel Tower, climbing the stairs of the Basilica du Sacre-Coeur de Montmartre up to the top, or eating years worth of crêpes and baguettes had died in a matter of seconds.

Instead, David decided to spend the weekend at home with the kids, not really keen to drag them out to a cold, snowy Toulouse, no matter how nice and interesting it might’ve been. With so many geeks in one small city, chances were they wouldn’t be able to have a very good time after all.

It was already dark when he arrived at Gillian’s house, and Erin, the kids’ nanny, was all set to leave for a romantic weekend with her boyfriend in a nice little cabin somewhere on the coast. David couldn’t possibly envy her more, even though he was starting to look forward to having some fun with the kids alone.

Over the last couple of months, it had become somewhat of a tradition that whenever he had Gillian’s kids for himself, he’d take them to places that served American food. The good, greasy and overly sweet stuff that the boys didn’t get too often, but of course loved tremendously. He’d lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy spoiling them - they were awesome boys, and they had a good relationship even without buffalo wings, chicken with waffles or s’mores, but he loved having a good time with them and seeing them happy and relaxed around him. And whenever he’d been away for a longer period of time, it was an easy way to skip the awkward first couple of hours to warm up to each other again.

They took the tube to a nice little place near St. Paul’s Cathedral and had a wonderful dinner before driving back home and taking Nelson for a long walk around the neighborhood.

The dog had become everything David had hoped he would when he gave him to Gillian - a wonderful, beloved buddy for her active young boys. Both Oscar and Felix were very dedicated to Nelson, and it was a delight to watch how much fun they were having together, but also seeing how much responsibility the boys had taken for the little guy.

When David had settled Eaden for the night, the boys showed him their new sports game on the Nintendo Wii, and they ended up playing tennis and golf way past midnight, having so much fun that David even forgot to call Gillian before she fell asleep in her hotel in Toulouse.

On Saturday, the four of them went to an indoor playground right after breakfast, and David spent the better part of his day counting heads, carrying Eaden back to the toddler area, which she was constantly sneaking away from to jump around with the big kids, and handing out snacks and drinks.

Around midday, he started to receive some hilarious text messages from an incredulous Gillian, asking him how anyone in their right mind could possibly confuse Toulouse with Paris and complain that she was freezing her ass off in the hall she was sitting in before she eventually sent him a picture of a squat toilet, labeling it “Welcome in Europe 2015”.

While David had a good laugh over it, he also felt for her. She deserved a weekend to relax, yet she was out there making other people’s dreams come true. He couldn’t admire her more right now.

Gillian was back at her signing table after the first round of photo op’s around 2 pm, frozen to the bone and overwhelmed by the number of people still waiting in line to see her.

It was fun though, really. She’d grown to like these conventions despite her fear of crowds and her aversion to public speaking.

Her fans were crazy, but most of them were very nice, lovely people, and knowing she could make them very happy by just being there and taking a moment to talk to them was bringing her an immense amount of joy as well.

Her phone buzzed beside her, and she only meant to take a quick glance at it, but the first three words immediately caught her full attention and set her on alert. It was a message from David, one that didn’t start very good.

“Oh shit,” Gillian exclaimed, taking her phone and looking at the young woman standing in front of her. “Just a second, sorry!” Gillian said with an apologetic smile and unlocked the screen before reading the entire text:

> Rufus is missing. I can’t find him anywhere. Erin said Eadie didn’t have him for her nap either. Do you remember seeing him around somewhere? <

And that was when the nightmare started.

Gillian hopped into the waiting limousine to leave the convention center by 7:30 pm, much later than she’d anticipated since she spent another hour at her table, meeting even the last person who hadn't gotten the chance to see her earlier today.

The rest of the day had been so busy that she didn’t get the chance to write David anymore, and his messages had piled up by now.

His immediate reply to her suggestions where the bunny might’ve been was:

> No, he’s not in the car and not under our bed, or any bed for that matter. Please come up with something a little bit more helpful. I’m running out of options here. <

There were four more rather desperate ones before she reached the last one:

> I can’t find it. I looked absolutely EVERYWHERE! <

Gillian inhaled sharply and turned her head to look out of the window as they were passing the crowds on their way home, or to the next bar.

It was raining again, or snowing, she couldn’t really tell. The cold and cloudy weather in the past couple of weeks was starting to get to her mood and overall well-being. As if only the sun could recharge her batteries. Maybe a nice long bubble bath back at the hotel and a decent sized burger with fries and a milkshake on the side would do the trick, too, Gillian thought, smiling to herself. Boy, she really wasn’t looking forward to making a call home and face the reality that her one-year-old’s heart was probably broken into a million pieces.

With an exasperated sigh, Gillian dialed David’s number and raised her phone to her ear. Better get it over with right away, she thought.

He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, stranger. You're done with your day?”

Gillian smiled. “Hello, yourself. Yep, I'm completely done. Done, done, done in every possible way. My brain is just… mush.”

“I bet it is,” David said with a chuckle. “Lots of people, huh?”

“You have no idea. But now tell me what’s going on! How is she?”

“A-s-l-e-e-p,” he spelled, especially emphasizing the ‘p’ at the end, sounding both relieved and tired.

“Oh, wow,” Gillian said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, me neither. But she basically cried herself to sleep on the couch while I was trying to make dinner. I guess it was an exhausting day for all of us, and now she’s lying half on top of Nelson - who’s also on the couch, I’m very sorry - clutching one of your hoodies to her face.”

“Oh no, poor girl,” Gillian said ruefully. The bunny had been on top of her mind since David’s first message, and she couldn’t really remember when she’d seen him the last time. On Friday morning when she’d gotten the baby ready for the day? Did Eaden have him in the car during their school run? Or… did they bring him to get a couple of groceries and actually lost him while strolling through Brick Lane Market? Which was, undoubtedly, the worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” David said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “She just doesn’t understand it.”

“Fuck, David. I feel so guilty. It’s all my fault.”

“No, Gillian. Things like that just happen.”

“Have you ever lost the favorite stuffed animal?”

“Well, no. But we’ve lost a bunch over the years…”

“Yeah, the ones that are forgotten the next day. But you usually don’t lose the favorite one because you never bring it with you when you leave the house. That’s the number one rule every parent knows… and usually follows.”

“Maybe we’ll find him again. I will keep looking, okay? Don’t lose any sleep over it, babe.”

“Maybe I should go out for a drink with David and Nicholas after all,” Gillian mused, referring to the American actors that had also attended the convention with her.

“Yeah, at least one of us should have fun,” he said with a light chuckle.

“I’m so sorry, David. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting from this weekend. Are the boys good for you at least?”

“They’re awesome. One of them was always with Eaden or looking for the bunny. They took off to play upstairs an hour ago when the crying got really bad, which I can’t blame them for, to be honest. I think they’re hungry and waiting for dinner now, so…”

“Oh, okay. What are you making?”

“Baked mashed potatoes.”

“Um, okay. Sounds… interesting.”

“Easy and… basically ready to serve. I gotta go, babe. I love you, you know?”

Gillian smiled as heat rose to her cheeks. “I love you, too. Very much.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Finally.”

“Yes, finally. Good night, Gillian.’

“Good night, David. Please give the kids a kiss from me, okay?”

Rufus hadn't miraculously resurfaced by the next day, which pretty much sealed the deal for David that Eaden’s favorite stuffed bunny had in fact gotten lost in the streets.

After lunch, which the baby had refused to eat even though it had been pizza, David found her in the library rummaging through one of the bookshelves.

She didn’t even look up when he kneeled down beside her. “What are you doing, slugger? Are you redecorating Mommy’s books?” he asked, running his hand over her back.

It was only when she turned her head that he saw the tears running down her cheeks again.

“Ufus!” Eaden sobbed, her bottom lip stuck out so far that a bird could have perched on it.

“Oh honey,” David sighed. How often could his heart actually break for this little girl? She was looking at him as though he was the only one who’d be able to make everything okay again. There were so much hope and expectation in those piercing blue eyes. How he wished he could take away her pain. Or at least be able to explain what was going on.

Thankfully, she fell asleep in his arms after he’d picked her up and laid down on the couch with her.

But it was barely an hour later that Eaden couldn’t be soothed anymore.

David was leaning against the kitchen island with a screaming, wiggling Eaden in his arms when he heard the front door being closed and someone in heels walking through the hallway.

He had a tight hold on Eaden’s little feet as Oscar was standing right in front of him, looking up at his sister with worried eyes while he was gently stroking her arm.

Felix was sitting on the couch, holding his ears while staring at David’s iPad.

Oh boy, Gillian thought as she caught the first sight of them. It was worse than she’d expected.

Putting her bags down, she gave David a weary look as she approached them, but could see a hint of relief crossing his own features.

“Hey, you guys. What’s the matter here?”

“Mum!” Oscar exclaimed and ran into her arms, embracing her waist. “We weren’t able to find the bunny.”

“Mummy, she won’t stop screaming and we looked everywhere!” Felix complained from his position on the couch, not even attempting to get up and give her a hug.

“Yeah, we did! We thought Nelson might have taken it, but it’s nowhere in the house! She must’ve lost it somewhere outside.”

“Oh dear,” Gillian sighed and ran her fingers through Oscars hair before leaning over to give him a kiss. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Nope,” Felix stated, cringing as Eaden let out another loud wail and plugging his fingers back into his ears.

“Hey, baby girl,” Gillian cooed and walked towards David and Eaden with Oscar following her closely. With four fingers of her right hand stuck in her mouth, she was clutching David’s neck with the other, and her head was resting against his shoulder as though she’d literally no energy left in her to hold it up herself.

“Look! Mommy’s home, baby. Everything’s alright now,” David whispered, gently bouncing her up and down.

Gillian snorted and started to rub Eaden’s back to get her attention. She seemed to be completely out of things, and her whole body heaved with convulsive sobs, each one wracking her harder than the last. It sounded pretty much like she was choking.

Her normally bright, sparkling blue eyes looked glassy, and the white in them had turned into a bright pink. Only her cheeks were redder than her eyes.

Gillian felt her daughter’s forehead with the back of her hand, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“She’s hot.”

“Yeah, she’s been crying and screaming on and off for hours now. She didn’t eat anything at all and only managed to take a couple of sips of tea here and there,” David said, worry and remorse evident in his voice.

“M-hm, it’s hard to make her drink anything when she’s so upset,” Gillian squeezed his arm reassuringly.

He managed a weak smile before asking, “You want to hold her for a bit?”

“Yes. Just let me change into something clean and comfy, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her upper arm as she was attempting to walk away, pulling gently. “Hey,” he whispered, his smile soft but tired.

She raised her arm and stroked his stubbled cheek before putting her fingers around his neck and pulling him down for a chaste kiss. “Hey,” she whispered as she pulled back. She’d pictured their first kiss after weeks a little bit differently. “Hang in there, I’ll be right back.”

The crying got worse again once she’d left the room to head upstairs, and it resonated even up to her bedroom. Gillian could count on ten fingers the times she’d heard one of her kids crying like this, and it had mostly been Eaden with her newborn colics. The memories of spending hours walking around and bouncing her to ease the physical pain were still very vivid. But how on earth was she supposed to help her one-year-old with her emotional struggles?

Gillian sighed as she quickly undressed and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. No matter how many kids one had, parenthood would always be a challenge, and it would never be simple.

She came back to David pouring what she guessed was fennel tea, Eaden’s favorite, into a sippy cup while their daughter was now sobbing directly into his shoulder. They always made a whole can in the mornings and let it cool down. Gillian hated it, couldn’t even stand the smell anymore, but Eaden was chugging it down like crazy. On a normal day, at least. She really hoped Eaden would take it.

She went over to Felix first, who had been joined on the couch by Oscar, to make a point and give him a kiss hello. He smiled at her bashfully when she ruffled his hair before finally pulling her down for a bear hug. No matter if she was gone for a weekend or a couple of weeks, they always seemed happy and grateful when they had her back, and in need of a lot of cuddles. She hoped she’d get the chance to spend some quality time with both of them before she had to fly out to Belfast on Tuesday.

“Hey sweetheart, look what Daddy made you! Your favorite tea!” Gillian tried to sound as excited as possible when she stepped beside David, who let out a frustrated sigh while trying to screw the lid with one hand.

She gently put her hand over his, gave it a reassuring squeeze and took the cup to close it.

“Eaden, Mommy is here now. Have you seen her?” David murmured, gently trying to loosen her tight grip on him so she would at least take a look. He still couldn’t believe how hard it actually was to peel a tiny, clinging toddler off of you. “Eaden, please,” he begged, and Gillian could tell that he was giving everything not to sound annoyed or harsh. It must’ve been a horrible weekend for him, especially after not seeing them for such a long time.

“Okay,” Gillian nodded, put the cup on the counter and started to take the baby away from him.

She was holding on for dear life, pulling at his shirt and stretching it as far as possible before he finally got to open her fingers around the fabric, and she let go.

Gillian had just turned her around and settled her on her hip to take a look at her when Eaden broke into full-blown bawl, arched her back and suddenly threw herself backward so forcefully that if David hadn’t been there to catch her, Gillian would’ve dropped her.

“Jesus Christ,” Gillian breathed in utter shock, her heart now beating rapidly in her chest. Eaden’s cries once again intensifying.

David nodded, running his large hand over Eaden’s small back while Gillian was holding her tightly, even though she was squirming in her mother’s arms.

“It’s alright baby,” Gillian tearfully choked out. She felt horrible. Eaden had never resented her like that before, and it stung.

If she only had been there for her over the last two days.

She looked up to meet David’s eyes. “Do you think it might help if I retreat into the library and lay down with her?” Gillian asked, cradling her daughter’s head in her palm and bouncing her gently.

“Yeah, you do that,” David said softly and leaned forward to kiss her forehead before handing her the sippy cup. “I’ll be out here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he knew how grateful she was for everything he was doing for her. Flying over for the weekend to watch her two boys, their daughter and the dog all by himself was more than she was expecting from him, especially since she didn’t even have to ask.

He found them peacefully lying in the raffia glider a while later. The library was one of his favorite rooms in her house. It was peaceful and comfortable, and he loved to come in here, browse her bookshelves and lay down with a book that caught his interest. David even had a shelf for his own books in here, and sometimes, he’d find a book in it that she’d bought him, one she thought he would like, or one she just really wanted him to read.

Eaden was slumped against Gillian with her head resting on her mother's chest, her little body still shaking with an occasional sob. With one hand, she was fingering a few tendrils of her mother’s hair that had escaped out of her ponytail. The other one was holding onto Gillian’s shirt.

“Hey, it’s so quiet in here,” he said with a soft smile and let himself slump down onto the blue sofa beside them.

“Yeah, finally,” Gillian said, her voice just above a whisper, and looked at her little girl.

Eaden had stopped drinking, but Gillian was pleased that she’d managed to drink at least half of the cup. Her eyes were still open, but she was staring at nothing in particular, her little fingers absently playing with the collar of her black shirt before disappearing underneath it again.

Gillian sighed. It was so tempting to give in, to go 10 steps back, ruin everything they’d worked for over the last eight weeks and just let her nurse, even if it was just for comfort’s sake.

“Babe, don’t,” David said quietly as if he’d read her mind, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I know what you’re thinking, but it won’t help her, or you, in any way.”

Gillian nodded and buried her nose in her daughter’s soft blonde hair. He was right, of course; the whole process was a nightmare she didn’t want to start over again. She couldn’t do that to Eaden, or to herself.

For Gillian, it was an emotional rollercoaster of unknown dimensions. Some days, she thought she was experiencing something similar to postpartum depression. She had to excuse herself from meetings or during filming to cry in private multiple times in the last couple of weeks. Had found herself on the verge of a panic attack every Monday morning when she was about to leave for Belfast, or felt completely unable to get up in the mornings and go to set.

On other days, she was incredibly relieved that she didn’t have to offer her body to a little person every waking hour of the day, or night, anymore. While she loved being close to the kids and loved providing the physical comfort each child needed, there was definitely a certain point when she started to feel very anxious, claustrophobic and protective of her own body.

One night back in the beginning of September, she’d broken down into tears after another day of tugging, fumbling, holding, carrying and rocking a cranky toddler, just to be used as a human pacifier at bedtime, and hours beyond.

Just the thought of having to hug or kiss David, or give herself out to anyone else on top of that made her heart race and her stomach clench. She was feeling incredibly overwhelmed and irritable pretty much all the time. Touched out, as some were calling it. And she found that this description was pretty fitting to what she had been feeling over weeks.

When Gillian had finally come to the conclusion that she couldn’t carry on like this, David met her with an immense amount of sympathy and appreciation. He’d been the one encouraging her to make whatever changes she had to in order for her to be able to take and do whatever she needed to remain happy and healthy. In the end, Gillian was quite surprised to find out just how invaluable her intimacy with David and the sheer feeling of being a desirable human being was to her sanity after all. And that by regaining some of her emotional and personal space, she quickly became much more relaxed and approachable again.

For Eaden, it seemed to have similar effects. She appeared to be much more independent and mature all of a sudden, boldly exploring her surroundings without looking back in search for Gillian quite that often anymore. But she was struggling to accept all the other ways to be close to her mother as the new and sole sources for comfort and security, and that nursing wasn’t one of them anymore.

She simply didn’t understand what was going on, and her coping strategies varied from crying for Gillian at night, throwing tantrums and downright begging to very creative attempts to change her mother’s mind, like pulling coy and funny faces, or even offering Rufus Gillian’s ‘na-na’s’. “Omise na-na Ufus, Mommy,” she would say, probably thinking that her mother was too polite to say no to Rufus when he’d already been promised something.

The look of rejection on her child’s face was unbearable though, as was having to say “No” over and over again, no matter how sweetly Eaden was looking at her. Or how heartbroken she was over the loss of her favorite stuffed animal.

“She probably thinks we keep punishing her, David. And of course, she has no idea why we’d do that.”

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t argue with that. It did indeed feel like they were pulling the safe ground they’d tried to build over the last two years right from underneath their child's’ little feet.

Nothing had ever been really easy with Eaden. Maybe it was because of their own, rather advanced age for being the parents of a baby, or the fact that she was definitely their last child, but both him and Gillian were incredibly attached to this kid.

David only knew that guilt was playing a big part for himself. Not only that they weren’t living together and working all over the world, therefore dragging the little one from one place to another, but because their daughter had two parents who would probably not be able to be by her side for the bigger part of her life. He could be extremely grateful if he’d make it to her thirties. And that… didn’t feel really good.

Being aware of that, they were working hard on providing her with a secure, nurturing environment and making sure she always felt safe and loved.

Right now though, it seemed like they were failing miserably. Or maybe, he thought as he was looking at them, it was just him who was failing his daughter, and Gillian, by constantly being away from them.

“You’re a terrific mother, Gillian. I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m constantly amazed how you handle all of this; four kids with completely different needs and expectations. Mostly by yourself.”

Gillian gave him a warm, lopsided smile and shook her head slowly. “I’m not by myself.”

“I-, I know you don��t see it that way… with Erin being around and the boys spending half the time with Mark. But when it comes down to it, it’s your opinion and your decision that counts. You are the mother and you know all of them better than anyone else.”

“David,” she said and held out her hand. He reached up immediately and took it in his. “I couldn’t be the mother I am, or trying to be, without you. I’m thankful every day that the three of you are the best father’s I could’ve possibly chosen. But this,” she made a circle like motion with her head, “is only possible because of you and me together. We haven’t seen each other in what, six weeks? And you come here, all the way from LA, knowing I won’t be here most of the time, just to watch the kids. Not just our kid, but mine as well.”

“That’s the least I could do after you’ve watched them for six weeks,” he stated.

“It’s only about being able to rely on each other. I have your back and you have mine, right?”

Right, he thought. Just sometimes, he felt like it wasn’t enough.

Eaden let out a soft whimper and turned her head, searching for David. “Daddy,” she murmured, extending her left arm towards him.

“Yeah, baby,” he said and let her wrap her tiny hand around his thumb before he closed his fingers completely around it. “Daddy’s here.”

The tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips as she borrowed her face deep between Gillian’s breasts and let out a content sigh.

“Come here,” David said softly, holding Gillian’s hand while she was climbing into the tub to join him, hissing when her heel met the water. “Careful.”

“It’s hot,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter.

He raised his right eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. “Hot? I’m sitting in here, it can’t be that hot for you.”

“I told you, I’m frozen to the bones. It probably feels hotter than it actually is.”

“Alright, take your time,” David nodded, putting his hands on her hips as she slowly climbed in.

When she was finally standing between his legs, he let his hands fall down to her upper thighs and leaned forward, placing soft a kiss against the mole on her right butt cheek before gently biting into her flesh, just where her ass met her thigh.

Gillian giggled and braced her arms on the edges of the tub to ease her body into the warm water. Once the bubbles had covered her breasts and his arms had come around her middle, she let out a satisfied moan and leaned back against his chest.

It was almost 8 pm now and all three kids were asleep. After getting Eaden to eat a couple of bites of the leftover mashed potatoes for dinner, Gillian gave her daughter a quick bath and rocked her to sleep before tucking her into her crib, not leaving until she was sure the little one wouldn’t wake the second she left the room.

The boys had been patiently waiting for her on Oscar’s bunk bed to tell her everything about their weekend with David. There was a brand new Star Wars Lego-set they’d started to build in the middle of the room, and they proudly showed her the letters they’d received from their teachers to inform their parents about their impeccable behavior in class in the last couple of weeks. The Lego-set, so they explained, was David’s reward for them. Gillian could barely contain the amused grin the entire time they were talking. David really was… something else. The relationship he had built with Oscar and Felix was a fascinating one. There was a great deal of respect, curiosity, friendship and lately, probably since Vancouver, she really thought she could see love between them, too. Something very similar to the love between a parent and a child, still developing its roots, but very beautiful to witness. Something Gillian had never dared to hope for it to happen.

She laid with the boys for a while, listening and cuddling before giving them both kisses and hugs good night, turning off the lights and leaving their room to search for David.

She found him in the master bathroom, already sitting in a bubble bath between a sea of lit candles. She felt like crying of gratitude for this sweet man.

“Feels good?” David asked softly.

“Hmm, feels like heaven. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yes, me too.”

“By the way, I stumbled upon that… huuuge Lego walker-thingy in the boys’ room.”

“Oh?” David chuckled almost nervously. “Am I in trouble?”

Gillian laughed. “No, of course not. It looks extremely expensive, though.”

David shrugged, cupped a handful of water in his palm and let it run down her upper arm. She smiled and leaned further back, resting her head beside his.

“Boy, I need a vacation. A very long one.”

“Hmm,” he nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “What are you thinking of?”

“I think of multiple things.”

“Of course you do,” David chuckled and brought his index finger up to her nose, placing a tiny bubble of soap on its tip.

“Hey!" she giggled girlishly and wiped her nose before giving him a chaste kiss.

"What are you thinking of?" he eventually asked, absently caressing her forearms with his thumbs.

"Hmm, a private rooftop or balcony pool from where you can see a beautiful, white beach.”

“Oh,” he nodded approvingly. “That sounds promising indeed.”

“A big bed.”

“One with enough space for all our children?”

“No!” she nudged him playfully in the side. “No kids.”

“No kids?”

“No. At least not the entire time. The big bed would be ours alone. Enough space to eat a big breakfast and read the papers in the mornings. Or for all the food I’d order from room service in the middle of the night while we’re all sprawled out, watching Trash TV. Or-”

“Or?”

“I don’t know… what else can you do in such a big bed with no kids around?”

David shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. It’s not like I’m used to having a big bed just for the two of us anymore.” God, he wasn’t even used to the way she felt in his arms anymore. Had she ever been this tiny?

“Yeah, true. Hmm, maybe we’ll think of something once we’re there.”

“So this is the beach vacation somewhere nice and warm?”

“It is, yes.”

“Maldives, maybe? One week with the kids and then another… for us? Just you and me, a private little house on the ocean with a balcony pool. You completely naked the majority of the time…” he said dreamily, and she started to giggle.

“Sounds so heavenly, can’t we go now?”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” he nodded.

“Seriously, David,” Gillian said and turned her head so that she could look into his eyes. “I can’t go that long without seeing you anymore. It’s… getting harder and harder every time. And it’s just that… sometimes, I feel like…” she paused, pondering her next words while stroking his forearm with her thumb absently, “...not that we’re neglecting our relationship per se, but that it… gets lost in the shuffle, sometimes. Often. You know, with work, and the kids, which is completely normal, but… I wish we’d have more time for ourselves. To do adult things…”

“Oh,” he said appreciatively and waggled his eyebrows, making her snort before she went serious again.

“Yes, those things, and just… explore places without pushing a stroller or without having to stop at every other ice cream stand. Go to museums, meditate together, spend a night in town, just,” she sighed, “we don’t necessarily have to do all those things, but it would be nice to at least have the time that we could if we wanted.”

“I know what you mean,” he nodded.

“But it’s mostly just the... mundane things that I miss the most. Like sharing a meal in the evenings, or going to bed together. Not having to sleep alone…”

“Yeah. I miss that, too,” he said with a sigh and rested his chin on her shoulder.

At least they were happy, that was what he was thinking when he was lying in bed alone on one of those many lonely nights these days. He felt whole knowing he was hers, and she was his, no matter where they were.

“So,” David said, “about the vacation…”

“Mh-hm,” Gillian hummed.

“Is it a good thing that I… booked us a weekend in Budapest in March? Just for the two of us?”

Gillian opened her eyes and blinked before looking back at him, surprise written all over her face. “What? Are you serious?”

David chuckled. “I am, yes. Being the only one who has full access to your schedule certainly has its perks when it comes to making a surprise perfect.”

“Oh my god, I love Budapest! I will show you all the beautiful sights! And I will give my friend Zoltan a call, who has a nice little restaurant there, and ask him if he cooks us the best Hungarian food you’ll find on this planet before we’ll head to the coolest bars you’ve ever been to! And because we also need some time to relax, we will go to one of their famous baths!”

“I love when you’re so excited. It’s adorable.”

“That’s really nice of you, David. I always wanted to do a city trip with you. And I would love to go on a nice shopping tour again. Budapest is great for shopping,” she nodded with enthusiasm, but then seemed to reconsider.”Although I can’t do that with you.”

“Why not? Didn’t you say that I’m a very patient shopping companion the last time we went together?”

“I did. But I can’t blink twice and the cashier already has your credit card in their hand,” she smirked at him.

“And? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would’ve made it clear if you didn’t like a little bit of spoiling every now and then,” David winked and leaned in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Gillian hummed approvingly.

“Am I right?” he prompted, his breath brushing against her neck.

“Mhh, yeah, you are. The apples don’t fall far from the tree, you know?” Gillian tilted her head to the side to give him better access to her skin.

“So I’ve heard,” he murmured, teasing her with delicate kisses so faint she didn’t dare to breathe, too afraid to miss a single one of them.His hands had started to roam over the flatness of her belly, fingertips tickling the sensitive skin between her breasts up her neck, and eventually drawing little circles right under her ear.

The simplest touches of his hands had the power to make her squirm like a cat in heat, unable to ignore her bodies basic needs. To be touched. To be loved.

They were lying there silently beside the occasional giggles while washing each other until the water started to turn too cold for her liking.

David knew that she could lie there for hours, refilling the tub with hot water every now and then, but he had something different in mind. It didn’t take a lot of convincing to make her get up and let him rinse both of them off before wrapping her in a big, fluffy towel.

He’d barely gotten a chance to dry himself off and she was impatiently pulling him back into the bedroom by his hand, her own towel left behind on the bathroom floor.

She fell back onto the mattress and pulled him on top of her, both giggling like two young people who’d just fallen in love with each other. Yet they were doing this for almost 25 years.

Languid kisses quickly turned into something more serious. Hands were roaming and hips grinding against each other for a little bit of relief. Their bodies were still warm and soft from their bath, and the sensation of skin to skin was unbelievably arousing.

Their breaths were coming in shorts pants when David broke away from Gillian and gently moved her into the middle of the bed, making sure that her head was comfortably propped up on a bunch of pillows before kissing his way down, caressing very scar and stretch mark on her perfect little body. There really wasn’t anything not beautiful about her.

He had just placed a couple of kisses on her pubis and outer lips when Gillian moaned out loud, and he quickly looked up from between her legs, surprised by her strong reaction. He hadn’t even come close her clit yet her back was arched and he already needed to shush her.

“Shh, not so loud,” he whispered, caressing her tummy with his flat palm, his smile giddy and reaching up to his eyes.

“David,” she said in a half warning, half desperate voice, glaring down at him. “It’s been six weeks with only my own fingers down there. I will scream this place down if you don’t continue, and nobody wants that to happen, right?”

“What about screaming it down because I’m continuing?” he teased, but earned nothing but a blank stare, telling him that she wasn’t in the mood for his jokes anymore.

He continued easy on her, his thumbs caressing her inner thighs, nuzzling her slit with his nose while kissing and licking the soft space between her pussy and her ass. She was dripping wet already, her hips softly rotating.

Her face was still relaxed, though. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, bottom lip lightly tucked between her teeth. It was rare that she was so content and comfortable, only concentrating on the sensation of his touch, and he loved seeing her like that.

When she put her left foot flat on the mattress beside his shoulder, basically opening up for him, he knew the teasing was over, and she needed more.

The second loud moan didn’t come as unexpected as the first, but David had to retain himself from looking back and check if she’d closed the door earlier. She probably had. At least he hoped so.

As if she could read his mind, or maybe it was his slackened tongue that had given him away, she reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Relax. The door is locked,” she murmured, licking her lips in anticipation of what was coming next.

David rested his cheek against her inner thigh and glanced at her beautiful, open pussy right before him. It was sensory overload - the pink, glistening flesh with the perfect little nub poking out of the middle and that divine, feminine smell of hers.

She had never been shy about this particular part of her body, while there were others, much less private ones, that she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with, and wouldn’t let him look at for too long. It was a miracle that she’d let him get away with kissing her ass.

Her hand suddenly came in his vision, the index finger stroking his cheek a few times before she ran it through her folds.

“Whenever I did this, when I touched myself, and made myself come, I was thinking about you, and those long, skilled fingers of yours,” Gillian said, her voice low and sultry.

David swallowed, pressing his hips into the mattress. His cock was hard as a rock. Almost painfully so.

“About your lips on my clit. Or just about you… fucking me.”

“How?” David coaxed out, watching two of her fingers disappearing into her wetness. “How did I fuck you?”

“Hard. You fucked me hard, David. Like you did in that tent on the last day of shooting. You remember that, right?” she asked, pressing herself against her palm.

How could he possibly forget that? It had been a tent with no solid walls in the middle of the set. Everyone could’ve walked in at any given time.

“I remember,” David nodded thoughtfully. What a great memory it was. “You weren’t able to keep your voice down back then either.”

“Hmm. What can I say,” Gillian said, pulling her fingers out and resting them on his bottom lip. With a growl, he opened his mouth and welcomed them in. “You do this to me.”

“Hmm,” he hummed around her fingers, swirling his tongue around them.

“Were you planning on fucking me tonight?”

David huffed, pushed her hand aside and leaned down and sucked her clit between his lips.

“You bet I was,” he murmured against her hot flesh. “Fuck babe, when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the week,” David added and dove in for good, sucking as much of her tender flesh into his mouth as possible, rubbing her clit with the flat of his tongue.

She’d braced herself on her elbows, watching him with a smug expression on her flushed face, and it was the hottest thing on earth. She was a demanding lover with very high expectations; a woman who knew exactly what she needed, and how to get it. When you got her looking at you like that…

“Oh fuu-huck,” Gillian moaned and threw her head back, nails digging into the mattress, bunching the sheet between her fingers.

… or moaning for you like that, you could consider yourself the luckiest guy on earth. Because this was… mind altering. Unbelievably fucking sexy.

His erection felt hot and gigantic between his pelvis and the mattress, pulsating with each heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself but grind it against the soft sheet, again and again, probably leaving one hell of a wet spot there.

Her hips bucked up against him, and he felt a new rush of her hot wetness on his lips that he greedily lapped up.

“Hmm,” David hummed, watching her in wonder.

A single strand of hair was now sticking on one side of her face, and he could see a soft layer of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was licking her lips, biting them, pouting, opening her mouth only to press her lips together a couple of seconds later, then opening it again for a low moan. There was so much happening on her face at once, he just couldn’t look away. With every lick and every suck, her expression changed.

Eventually, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze.

“So close,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question. “So beautiful.”

At the same time as she reached down, David reached up and took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze and put both of their hands down beside her hip.

His other hand snuck under her thigh and lifted her leg over his shoulder and onto his back, surrounding himself with her almost completely before putting his mouth back on her pussy, gently nibbling and licking, building the tension once again.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. She squeezed her thighs around his head and lifted her hips, hoping he would get the cue.

He didn’t disappoint. Of course not.

His free hand snuck between her legs, and she could feel his thumb entering her as the rest of his hand came to a rest between her butt cheeks.

“Oh god,” Gillian whimpered as he started to draw his middle finger around her anus with gentle pressure, spreading her wetness all over it. “David… fuck.”

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he said softly, his eyes not leaving her face anymore. This was going to be so, so good.

“Ye-hes,” she whimpered and bucked into his face, inner muscles clenching around his digit.

His tongue sliced back and forth, up and down and in circles over her pulsing clit, lips sucking rough and relentless.

“Ahh,” Gillian cried out, and he knew her release was lingering so, so close now.

He pressed his finger a little firmly against her anus, and suddenly, she was grabbing a handful of his hair, twisting it between her fingers while she squeezed his other hand, her whole body jerking.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Dave- fuuuck,” she screamed, and he couldn’t do anything about it but enjoy and watch in awe as she came... so fucking hard.

It lasted longer than ever before, and when she finally slumped back onto the mattress with an exhausted groan, he slowly removed his hand and kissed her inner thighs, staying with her while she was calming down.

“Oh my god, oh god,” she breathed after a while and put both of her hands over her face, letting her leg slide off his shoulder.

Gillian completely zoned out for a couple of moments, and when she finally opened her eyes again, he was lying beside her again, a lopsided grin on his beautiful, slick lips.

“David,” Gillian whispered and turned towards him. His arm came around her waist and pulled her close to his chest.

“That was incredible,” he said and stroked the small of her back, feeling goosebumps rising underneath his fingertips. She was still incredibly warm, and so soft.

“That was loud,” she corrected and looked at him sheepishly, her forehead bumping against his'.

“Yeah,” he nodded, gently thrusting his erection against the soft skin of her belly. “We better save that for our vacation next time, huh?” David whispered and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

#relationship goals #gillovny #gillovny rpf #rpf #txf rpf #alternate universe #gillovny trash #moving forward #my writing

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