i mean i am not a huge fan but i do enjoy watching him on screen

Detroit dir. Kathryn Bigelow (2017)

I finally saw Detroit, the day of the Charlottesville Nazi march no less.  

I have very mixed feelings on the movie and they’re only mixed because director Kathryn Bigelow is a really good filmmaker. People who were most wary of the film because it had a white writer were right to be so, because the script is absolutely the weakest link and writer Mark Boal, who also wrote the scripts for Bigelow’s films The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, has penned a script that gets so much wrong, trampling all over moments of subtlety with clumsy dialogue and making minimal effort to deliver context. 

The film has a very clear three-part structure: the first is dedicated to the overarching outrage and frustration that led to the 1967 riots, the second shows the murders of three black men by the police at the Algiers motel that took place mid-riots, and the third focuses on the lack of justice provided by a biased and ineffectual legal system. But at every turn the writing, and sometimes the direction, undercuts its own message. Aside from some completely lazy title text accompanied by some very ugly animation, the first section does an absolutely terrible job of showing why black people in Detroit started rioting and even mostly privileges the perspective of the police. The final section is so bad you have a character screaming out “the system is rigged” in a courtroom as if the movie doesn’t trust the audience to put the pieces together.

And that’s a real pity because these two weak sections bracket the strongest most effective part of the movie where Bigelow delves in to what exactly went down at the Algiers and where Boal for the most part (but unfortunately not completely) curbed his need of having characters broadcast the film’s intentions. This is the part of the movie that’s earned the most criticism for the amount of violence, but it’s a violence that feels earned in a way that the violence of the first section of the movie doesn’t. This is Bigelow at her masterful best, juggling a large ensemble of characters so that their actions and motivations are clear. Despite the chaotic nature of the action, which involves about a dozen characters running in and out of various rooms, the geography of the place is never in doubt so that audiences are able to fully focus on the horror of the actions. It is by no means a perfect piece of cinema but it’s by far the best part of a fractured film because it shows (without telling!) that there is absolutely no winning what the police call the “game”, where they use brutality to get their suspects to confess, or indeed any way of winning when it comes to black men dealing with the police at large. One of the gifts of the large ensemble is watching as all the black men take different approaches to trying to survive the night and the absolute desolation of watching as every single one loses. Even the ones who live come away completely destroyed by what they’ve seen and what they needed to do to survive.

Will Poulter, playing a racist cop, has been met with the most praise and though he’s very good among my favourites were John Boyega as a security guard who decides the best approach is to act deferential. It’s not a great role, again the writing lets him down, but he has such a commanding presence that he’s a pleasure to watch on screen. Algee Smith as an ambitious young singer and Jacob Latimore as his friend and roadie are also standouts. I’ve heard no one praise Anthony Mackie but he has one of the best moments in the film. Sitting in his room with two young white girls they hear the police invading the motel he starts coaching them on what to do and how to act and without further explanation you can tell from the exhaustion and fear in his voice that he’s been in this situation before. It’s a quiet well articulated moment of the kind the film could have used more of. Also to briefly bring up the two white girls who are also brutalized by the police: Hannah Murray has the biggest part between the two of them and she is unfortunately awful. I’m honestly so disappointed because though the role was small it covered a lot of complexities I’ve never seen depicted before on screen: the way white women use black men and black culture as a way of being transgressive, the way white women are used as an excuse for white men to lash out against black men, the way that even if they are privileged in some ways they can be victims of sexual harassment and abuse, and the way in which despite these things they can retreat back into the privilege of their whiteness. A lot of complexities going on that are ruined by Murray’s atrocious performance. I wish Bigelow had chosen someone else.

Some more scattered thoughts: I love it when directors reuse actors so I enjoyed seeing Anthony Mackie and also Jennifer Ehle, so great in Zero Dark Thirty, in a cameo! The production values on this were amazing and the costume design by Francine Jamison-Tanchuck, especially for the women, was gorgeous. I can never unthink of John Krasinski as Jim from The Office, and he was distracting as a smarmy police union lawyer. Samira Wiley also pops up for literally less than a minute, the role didn’t require her having a lot to do but it seems like such a crime to have her do the work of a glorified extra.

I wish I could recommend it because I am a huge fan of Bigelow but I just can’t. The riots deserved a better movie and I believed Bigelow could do better so I’m disappointed that the resulting film was so uneven. Even though the time never dragged for me this only ever felt like a very solid first draft with hints of how much better it could have been. I’m not surprised it’s flopping at the box office because a) it’s not very good and b) who exactly is the audience for this? White racists won’t touch a movie that address systematic racism by police and white people sympathetic to the film’s message will have a difficult time sitting through a two and half hour uneven film filled with gruelling violence. By the time I walked out of Detroit to check the news a woman was dead and many more injured after a Neo-Nazi plowed his car into a crowd of peaceful protestors. It served as a painful real-world reminder that black audiences and other people of colour are already living everything Detroit has to say. 

Imagine Chris fulfilling his promise.

A/N: Yes, got this finished before I head out for the day. Thank God the time zones mess with my sleep schedule, right? 😂 This is a request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera. I hope you like it, love. I did, it’s honestly so cute. ❤️ And I love Mckenna, she’s really a doll. I can’t wait to watch ‘Gifted’, I’m going to sob like a baby.

Chris’ head titled as he watched you with a smile on his lips; he still couldn’t believe that he finally got to meet you in person. You’d both been in attendance of the same award shows and parties before, but he’d never gotten to chance to cross paths with you. It wasn’t until the 89th annual Oscars, at the Vanity Fair after party, that he finally caught you. You were talking to Octavia Spencer, who was a dear enough friend to Chris for him to butt into the conversation and introduce himself to you. The second your hands touch, Octavia excused herself. The look of adoration in Chris’ eyes did not go unnoticed, by you or Octavia. You were a fan of Chris’ so you’d heard him talk about how much he liked you on his interviews which was incredibly flattering, and as for Octavia- Chris had told her numerous time that he’d kill for a chance to speak with you; she wanted to get out of there before he killed her.

“You’re staring again,” you said and chuckled when Chris darted his gaze away. “I’m teasing,” you laughed and placed a hand on Chris’. “You’re fine. I like it when you stare, it’s very flattering.” He smiled and turned his hand palm up, entwining his fingers with yours. “So this is Chris Evans flirting, huh?”

“Actually,” he chuckled. “This is Chris Evans trying very hard not to freak out.” You smiled, brushing your thumb over his hand. “I’m so honored to be in your company, like you have no idea how happy I am right now.” You felt yourself blush. “You’re just such an amazing person, Y/N. This is the first time I’ve officially met you and I can say without a doubt that I’m in-love with you already.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, “I’m not that amazing.”

“I’d beg to differ,” he smiled. “You are that amazing.”

“You just met me, Chris. Are you seriously that sure about me already?” You quizzed and he nodded, smiling. “Oh please,” you giggled. “You think you know me, but you just know the person I portray when I’m in public. When you take me out on that date, you’re going to realize that I’m not all that and you’re going to get over this little crush you have on me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he shook his head, chuckling. “Because sweetheart,” he pulled your hand to his lips and mumbled into your skin, “I’m going to marry you one day.” You laughed and nodded mockingly. “Just you wait and see,” he winked.
• • • • • • • •
You sat backstage with Lisa and Mckenna’s mom at the Ellen show where Chris and McKenna were being interviewed for their upcoming movie, ‘Gifted’. You smiled as you watched your husband through the TV, enjoying his interaction with Mckenna as you subconsciously smoothed your hand over your small baby bump. He was just going to be the greatest father when your child came along and you couldn’t wait until your little one arrived.

“Was it fun working with this guy here?”

“Yes,” Mckenna looked over at Chris, smiling. “We were always singing and dancing and he’s so nice. He has such a kind heart. He’s always doing charity and…” She trailed off, giving Chris time to respond to her sweetness.

“I pay her,” Chris chuckled, waving it off though he thought it was a huge deal that Mckenna liked him so much. It gave him a glimpse of the life he was about to have with you, hoping his own child would adore him as much as his on screen one did. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You know what’s a big deal though,” Ellen began, smiling because she too was incredibly happy for you and Chris. “You’re going to be a dad soon,” she said. Immediately Chris smiled and Mckenna clapped, bouncing excitedly in her seat. “Your lovely wife, Y/N, who is someone I absolutely adore.” Chris nodded, his smile growing wider with each second. “She’s how many weeks now?”

“She’s about fourteen weeks, so um- we’ve still got a while to go before the baby comes,” Chris answered. “We’re very excited, yeah. It’s been a long time coming, I’ve been waiting for this moment for what seems like forever.”

“Yeah,” Ellen chuckled. “I think she said the last time she was on the show- I believe it was your second wedding anniversary?” She quizzed and Chris nodded. “She said that you actually told her you were going to marry her the night you met her.”

“Uh…” Chris chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I did.” He nodded and the audience clapped. “Um- She’s just one of those amazing people that you have a small window of opportunity with, y'know? I’ve been waiting for a chance to speak with her for so long that when I finally got it, I knew I wasn’t going to let it get away. She’s the one,” he shrugged, smiling. “Um-” He glanced over his shoulder when the audience clapped; Ellen had put photos of the two of you up on the screen. “Yeah, she’s beautiful and perfect and- I’m just the luckiest man on the planet.”

“Awwww,” Mckenna cooed, making Chris laugh. “That’s so sweet! You see what I mean? He has such a kind heart! He’s such a nice person, Ellen,” she told Ellen who nodded in agreement. “I just think he’s going to be the best dad and Y/N is going to be the best mom. They’re so lovely and I really like them together.”

“Aw,” Chris laughed, wrapping an arm around Mckenna, “you’re such a sweetheart. Y/N and I love her, we’ve told her parents numerous times that we’d gladly take her in if ever something happened to them.” Everyone laughed; you looked over at Mckenna’s mom, smiling, and she chuckled. “I just hope that my child loves me as much as this one.”

“Oh, of course!” Mckenna looked shocked that Chris would even say that. “Chris, you’re going to be so amazing as a dad and your baby is going to love you so much.” Chris smiled. “Trust me, you’re so much fun. There’s no way that your baby is going to love you any less than I do.”

“I agree,” Ellen nodded. “Both you and Y/N are going to be amazing parents. I wish you all the best and I urge everyone to watch ‘Gifted’ which comes out on 12th of April! The movie is absolutely amazing, the two leads are just so incredibly talented.” Chris and Mckenna smiled at each other before turning to the audience. “Chris Evans and Mckenna Grace, everyone!”
• • • • • • • •
“Hey you,” you smiled at Chris when he entered the green room with Mckenna by his side; she ran over to her mom to talk about how well she did. Chris, on the other hand, smiled and walked over to you, pulling you to your feet to hug you. “You did so good, baby. The tap dancing was top-notch,” you teased and he chuckled.

“Thank you for marrying me,” he whispered into your hair after pressing a kiss to your head. “I don’t know where my life would be if you didn’t say yes. I definitely wouldn’t be as happy as I am now, and-” he pulled away to place his hand on your bump. “I wouldn’t be a father.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” you smiled and placed your hand over his. “And I believe I’m the one who should say thank you. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, Chris. So thank you,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands landed on your waist. “Thank you for fulfilling your promise to marry me one day.”

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja @elizabeth-matsuoka @thegirlwiththeimpala @camerica96 @all-of-the-above11 @captainamerica-ce @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @siofrataylor @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @imaginary-world-of-mine @wanderingkat77 @grantward3 @rileyloves5 @chrsmom302 @buckys-shield @mylittlefandomfanfictions @breezykpop @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @hayleesteashoppe @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @louisespecter @castellandiangelo @ccrossfire @assxmblesstuff @edward-lover18 @princessesnaddy (Inbox me if you’d like to be added to the tag list)

12x11 Episode Review - What a Ride That Was!

Having just completed my second watch of this episode I have to say I am slightly stunned. I guess the best way to put it is ‘not what I expected’. But then what did I really expect? I was expecting pain, heartbreak, drama, interspersed with some humour and a big “no homo” scene to counteract last episode. I was expecting some dudebro Dean to appease certain types of viewer, along with a nice helping of deep subtext into Dean analysis for us to eat up that would go straight over that type of viewers head. I was certainly not expecting… Larry.

I haven’t looked at tumblr yet, except to glance at my askbox. I assume that you are all suitably going mad over Larry. Over the implications of Larry. Over the sheer insanity of the episodes biggest innuendo fuelled moments and probably laughing about it. I expect a hundred gifsets. I want to reblog those gifsets. I am also sure that Larry has already been meta’d to death… But what’s the harm in a little more meta to add to the massive pile gonna do? Because I wanna meta the FUCK out of Larry.

But there is a lot more to this episode than just Larry. We did get heartbreak. We did get drama and we did get some really nice character moments. Rowena particularly was amazing this episode (who am I kidding though she is always amazing) and I loved learning more about her thoughts. Overall I think it was entertaining, though not one of the best episodes, but that could be because the writing was a bit sloppy and sometimes the story didn’t make sense. I’ll get to why in a bit. Let’s just say that Meredith Glynn isn’t my favourite of the new writers by any means. I didn’t even review The One You’ve Been Waiting For because I didn’t feel particularly inspired by it at all.

But having said that she gave us Larry, and for that I will forever be thankful… even if she didn’t intend for us to take it the way I have (and I am guessing most of you reading this have too).

Anyway, main points to take away under the cut:

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React to K-Pop

Originally posted by yongguk-hell-chyeah

Zhang Yixing/Lay x YouTuber!Reader - Fluff

Words: 4.9K

Summary: It all started when you, a YouTuber, got invited to a famous react channel to react to EXO. Being a huge fan of them, your reaction sparked an interest in not only your fans and their fans, but EXO themselves.

A/N: This was a request from @icehooligan - I’m actually SO sorry it took so long, but it was really fun to write! Thank you again!

“Your voice is just amazing!!”

“If you had a concert, i’d definitely go!”

“She’s so pretty”

The corner of your lips lifted when you read the comments to your latest song cover of a popular pop song. Glancing at the view count, you pearly whites shined at the 1.2 million views. You kicked your legs in the air and spun on your chair, smiling brightly for achieving your goal of 1 million views in just three days. You leaped out of the chair and stretched your arms.

“Ahhhh quitting my job was such a great choice!” You exclaimed to nobody in particular so you glanced at your plants. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

Poking a leaf of your innocent succulent, you sat back down with a radiant smile ever present on your gleaming face, adding to the appeal. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes and allowed the sunlight to seep through your curtains to caress your face gently. You soaked in the heat of the sun and sighed.

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Jealously; Mark.

Request: “Mark getting jealous because a lot of idols have a crush and likes his gf??? Thanks!!!” & “Scenario where mork lee gets jealous bec his gf have a lot of idol admirers/idols who like her??? Thanksss ^^”

Genre: Angst & Fluff.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Anon never asked for a scenario, I know, but judging for the request it would be really boring if it was as a masterpost, believe me, that’s why I decided to do it as a scenario.

ALSO, I have a bunch of things to do for school lately, actually, I didn’t even thought that I was going to be capable to write this today bc of all the shit that I have to do so, I’m sorry if I post a bit less lately or if I don’t post nothing at all but school comes first, right? So, I’m sorry. But my winter holidays start the 14th of july and I promsie to be completly yours that day, hehe.

“My ideal type? Honestly, I’m not sure but.. Y/N? I have been thinking about her a lot and, I feel like Y/N is exactly what I want in a girl.”

There was a few seconds of silence before you and Mark started to laugh after hearing those words. And not only you but also Johnny and Jaehyun in the other side of the screen as they were interviewing the idol that just choosed you as his ideal type. They even decided to a couple more questions about you to the idol before changing the topics, still giving each other glarances and still laughing at this huge coincidence.

“I can’t believe it’s happening again!” Mark said still laughing at the whole situation.

“I guess you’re lucky to have what everyone wants, uhm?”

“I am, and I wish everyone could know that you’re only mine, Y/N.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise after hearing his words and smiled widely.

“Wow, Mark, I didn’t know that you were the jealous type.” He showed a small smile and hided his face with his hands. You kept smiling as you walked closer to him and sat in his lap while you kept teasing him. “Good to know.”

“Shut up.” You would giggle a little after hearing his words and place your hands over his, slowly taking them out of his face.

“You know there’s no reason to be jealous, right?” You kissed his soft hands before placing them around your figure surprising him at first but quickly holding you close. “You’re the only one who I really care about after all.”

You cuddle closer to him, placing your head on his shoulder and enjoying the way his hands would dedicately move in your back and legs. He kissed your forehead sweetly as he repeats your words again and again inside his head, trying to calm himself.

It was the second time in the week that other idol choosed you as your ideal type, and it’s not something that haven’t happend before. There was a long list filled with different names that Mark, probably, even memorazed, an if both of you would joke a lot about it a lot, clearly Mark was losing more and more confidence everytime. That shy smile that he always shows whenever other idol names you wasn’t the real one that express happiness and joy, but a fake one that only makes his jealousy even more obvious, and you could easily tell that.

“I know but… it still bothers me.” He said at the same time he sighed. His voice changed completely, it wasn’t the playful tone that you loved so much but a softer and sweeter one mixed with insecurity. He started to play with your hair to control the sudden anxiety that he was feeling.

“Well.. there’s only one way to stop all of this, right?”

“No there’s not.” He said, but then his eyes shined as he gasped loudly. He looked at you with a really adorable surprised expression that made you giggle again at his cuteness. “Wait, y-you’re not trying to say that-”

“I am!” You said, making your happiness obvious.

You and Mark talked about making your relationship publicly before but you were too scared to agree in that time. You know perfectly how mean and protective some of the fans can be and you were extremely worried not only about your career but also about Mark’s future and even NCT’s. It was a big step for both of you and even if you were still afraid of such important decision, you would do everything on your power to make Mark feel confident again.

“Y/N, you know that it’s not necessary to do this, right?”

“I know, but.. I think is time now. Also, I already talked with my manager about it and he thinks is a great idea and feels really happy for us.” 

Your words made him feel more relaxed and suddenly all his jealously dissapeared. He was too happy now to even care about all those idols said about you. In no time they would know that the place where you belong is right by his side, and that both of you would be like this for a long time.

“Thanks for this, Y/N.” He could only said, looking at you with nothing but pure love and happiness in his eyes. “I’ll make sure to keep you safe, okay? There’s nothing to worry about. I love you”

“I love you too, Mark.” You pecked his lips sweetly before hugging him and keep watching the rest of the interview.

The Girl Who Cried Fanfic (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: When your family is desensitized to your screams, because they usually just meant you were reading a fluffy fanfiction, the hero you’ve been reading about is the one who saves you in a time of actual danger.

 Word Count: 3228 

Requested: Nope 

A/N: Second fic on tumblr ever, first ever Peter Parker. I had this idea when my friend told me that she screamed at the fluff in one of my other fics, but that nobody in her house came to check on her. Jokingly, I called her “the girl who cried fanfic” and well, the rest is history.

You lay in your bed late at night, the only one awake in your small New York apartment. As you scrolled through your Tumblr, you saw a new post from your favorite account, a superhero fan account that loved hearing about the shenanigans the Avengers got into. Clicking on it, you saw this one was about Spider-Man.

Weird, you thought. Spider-Man isn’t really well known outside of Queens. Maybe you knew the owner of this account.

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“Let’s make it official now.” (Grayson)

Requested by anonymous: “Can you do an imagine where y/n is a famous youtuber and she just hit 4mil subs so the twins surprise her with a party and Grayson asks her out?”


You were at home one afternoon, watching your Social Blade subscriber counter slowly creep up. You were a Youtuber and you were getting closer and closer to four million subscriber.

You were staring at your screen, focused on the numbers as they changed. You nearly throw your laptop on the floor when your phone rang on the sofa next to you, scaring you. You picked it up and saw Grayson’s name flash across the screen.

“Hello?” You said when you answered.

“(Y/N)?! Are you watching? You’re almost to four mil!” Grayson cheered.

“Awe, you’re watching my subscriber counter go up?” You giggled.

“Of course I am. I always do. Anyway, look how close your are! I’m so excited for you. You’ll definitely hit four million soon. Maybe within the next few hours.” He said.

“Stop, you’re making me nervous.” You laughed.

“Hey is that (Y/N)?! Put her on speaker.” You heard Ethan call. “(Y/N), are you watching your subscriber count?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m watching.” You laughed.

“We’re so happy for you. It’s so exciting.” Ethan said.

“How did I get so lucky to have two of the bestest, most supportive friends in the world?” You laughed.

“Not sure how, but just know you did.” Grayson laughed. You said on the phone with the twins for a while, before they had to get some filming done.

“Alright, I’ll keep you two updated with everything.” You said.

“Byeeee.” They said, hanging up. You kept the tab open on your computer, trying to watch a movie and distract yourself from it, but you kept looking back to the numbers. You decided to log onto twitter and your timeline was full of your fans just as excited and nervous as you were. You spent some time online, watching with everyone.

After a few hours, your nerves had finally calmed and you were finally able to just watch your screen out of the corner of your eye while you cooked yourself dinner, watched a movie, and just relaxed.

As the counter reached 3,999,900, you began to get nervous again.

“Oh my god, only 100 more.” You sighed. Slowly and slowly it went up, a few at a time. You watched the counter for about 45 more minutes until it finally showed four million.

You took to twitter and saw that your notifications were already blowing up. A ton of congrats from all your followers. You sat down and started tweeting, thanking them for all them for all their support throughout the years, telling them how grateful you were for them and that you wouldn’t be anywhere close you where you are without them.

Just then, your phone started buzzing incessantly, tons of texts coming through, from all your friends, congratulating you on your milestone. You took the time to thank them and once you finished, you spent the rest of the evening on twitter, interacting with your followers.

* * *

It was finally the weekend, and your Saturday morning was full of filming, meetings and other promotional things. You were pulling into a parking lot when you received a text from Grayson.

“Hey, are you home? I think I left a sweater at your house the last time I was over and wanted to come look for it.” His text read.

“Uh, I’m not home at the moment, but you know where the spare key is. Go ahead and let yourself in.” You replied.

“Awesome, thanks.” He said. You got out of the car and went inside the building. You spent a few hours there, excited to head home once you were finally able to leave. On your way home, you noticed an unusual amount of traffic near your neighborhood, and a ton of extra cars once you turned onto your street.

“Looks like someone is throwing a party.” You said. Once you pulled up to your house, you noticed Ethan’s BMW parked in your driveway. You were confused at to what they were still doing at your house, but you went on inside.

You heard whispers on the other side of your front door as you went to unlock it. When you finally got inside, you were shocked to find all your friends crowded in the living room.

“SURPRISE!” They all shouted, jumping out from behind random pieces of furniture. You looked around the living room and noticed streamers and a huge banner that read “CONGRATS (Y/N) ON 4 MIL”

“Awe, you guys. You threw a party for me?” You asked.

“You can thank Grayson for this, it was all his idea.” Ethan said.

“Guilty.” He said with an awkward smile.

“Thank you Gray.” You said, hugging him.

As the party went on, you could see that everyone was having a good time, listening to music and just hanging out. You were standing in the kitchen when you noticed a big sheet cake that also said congratulations on it. 

“So, are you enjoying your party?”  You heard a voice ask from behind you. You turned around and saw Grayson smiling down at you.

“Of course I am, but I don’t really think I deserve all of this. You’re too good to me.” You said, wrapping your arms around his torso and hugging him tight.

“You do to deserve it. You just hit four million youtube subscribers. That’s a big accomplishment that should be celebrated.” He said.

“I still can’t believe you did all of this for me.” You said, smiling up at him.

“You’re my best friend and I love you. Of course I’d do this for you.” He said.

“I love you too. I’m so grateful to have a best friend like you.” You said.

“Also, I thought this would’ve impressed you.” He said.

“You impress me all the time, why would this have been any different?” You asked.

“Well, I wanted you to be impressed in a different way. Not in a friendship kinda way.”

“What do you mean? Like, you have a crush on me and want to impress me and get my attention?” You asked, with a sly smirk. You always suspected that Grayson liked you but you waited for him to bring it up before you did.

“Wait, how did you know I liked you?”  He asked, his face turning a bright shade of red.

“I kinda figured. You’ve been more cuddly and touchy whenever we hang out. You’re always calling and texting, more often than you ever have. And, I may have a little crush too, so it’s easy to tell.” You said.

“Awe man, I could’ve done this a long time ago then.” Grayson laughed. “Well, now that we both know we have crushes on each other, what do you say we go to dinner tomorrow night? Just me and you? We can make it official.”

“I don’t wanna wait that long. Let’s make it official now.” You smiled, pulling his face to yours and kissing him softly.

Bts Reaction | Finding Out You Write Fanfics About Them.

Request: hi hi im backkk *evil laughter* i would like to request a bts reaction to finding out you wrote fanfics about them!

I totally don’t worry about this on a constant basis. I would be so embarrassed omg.

Warning: Smutty references



Originally posted by gotjimin

He would stumble across a fic you wrote about him back before you knew him (or the other members) while looking for a new book to read. 

At first, he didn’t realise it, that was until he saw his name, to which he slammed the book shut and looked at the title. It read Spring Day by Y/n. He looked around before reopening it and continued reading a little further, he ended up reading it in one shot, before quickly placing it back up on your bookshelf, like he never touched it. 

When you finally came home he would try to act normal but you could tell something was off, he kept glancing over at you nervously. You finally brought it up to him and he told you he was fine and that it had been a long day is all. 

After dinner he went to take a shower, you sat down on the sofa only to notice your bookmark on the sofa, the bookmark that was in your fanfic that you had written about Jin. 

Panic would set in as you realised that is why he was acting weird is he found what you had written. He probably thought you were a crazy fan now, you went into your shared room and place the bookmark back in the book right as he walked out, his eyes opened wide when he saw you placing the bookmark back into the book. 

“Yah! Y/n I am sorry I thought it was just a random book I didn’t realise it was something personal!” he would frown worried that you would be angry and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

You told him you thought he would think you were a crazy fan. 

He smiled at your and kissed your forehead, and explained how he wasn’t angry or weirded out at all, but said he actually really enjoyed it and wanted you to write about him more often. 


Originally posted by remartins97

He knew his way around the internet, so you should’ve known better than to make it so obvious for him to find your website with your fics on it.

At first, he glanced over it thinking it was just a fan site that someone had created of the two of you, but he stopped and looked back at it closer, to see exactly what it said.

-Hi! I am Y/n and I write Bts Fanfics- 

He would chuckle and open it to find you hadn’t been active in a few years, even before the two of you had met a small music shop. 

He would start reading some of the ones about the other members and smiled at how good you could write, the stories were fluffy and cute and he liked them a lot, that as until he saw in bold the word SMUT. To which he smirked, he knew you were usually too shy to talk about that sort of thing with him so he was surprised to see that you wrote such dirty things.  

He opened it up to find a lot of the stories were about Namjoon and him. He clicked one about him and started to read it, his lip licked his bottom lip as it started to get into the details of the story. 

Just as he got to the good part you walked in quickly apologising for being late, he would jump and close down the screen and lock his computer and turn to you, with a composed look on his face. 

He would talk to you for a moment asking you about your day before he bit down on his lip and hummed “What do you think of people who write fanfics about me?” 

You eyes would open in panic for a moment before you reassured yourself there was no way he had found that old website, you hadn’t posted on it in so long you wouldn’t be surprised if the website had been deleted. 

You replied that you didn’t have a problem with it, to which he smirked sexily “well in that cases would you like to explain this then?” he said as he opened up his computer to show one of the stories you had written about him. 

You blushed cherry red and started to apologise over and over again to which he chuckled “i’m not mad, but I am really wanting to know how the sweet and shy y/n that I know can write out such dirty things online. You have been holding out on me baby girl” He would say as he inched closer to you and lick his bottom lip again. 

You would be embarrassed for weeks and begged and pleaded for him not to tell the other members about it. He promised not to say a word. (Ps, your bedroom life got very interesting from there on out haha)


Originally posted by rapmonabiased

He knew already. You admitted it to if not long after you started dating that at one point you had written fanfics about him and his fellow members. 

He had always wanted to read them but every time he would bring it up you would blush and tell him no.

One day he was going through some old boxes in your bedroom and stumbled across a huge binder filled with paper, he opened it thinking maybe it as your old school work only to see a photo of all the member. He smirked and looked around making sure you were still in the other room and opened it and started to read one of your angst filled stories about him. 

He gasped at how well your writing was and smiled wide at the fluff that followed. You walked in to see him reading it and stood there watching him as he engaged so heavily into your stories. 

That was until he came across one that was dirtier than the rest, he groaned quietly as he read it, you blushed and finally spoke up, his eyes slowly looking up to face yours, his eye was dark and hooded until he suddenly he snapped back into reality.

“Ay! I am sorry y/n I didn’t mean to find it!” he would hand it to you and practically run out of the room from embarrassment. You smirked as you looked down to see the part he was reading, a dirty story about him and you. 

You chuckled and closed it and went to go comfort him to find him on the sofa, you sat on his lap and kissed him sweetly apologising to him for not showing him earlier, but that the reason was because of that story. 

He would grip your hips firmly before looking back up at you, his eyes filled with lust, his cheeks still slightly red from his embarrassment. “You won’t need to write out that sort of thing ever again sweetie” 


Originally posted by choke-me-namjoon

He would find out through a crazy fan that wanted you both to break up. They would post on social media about your fics trying to expose and embarrass you. 

You would see and try to call him to explain before he saw it, but you were too late. He would seem a little upset at first asking why you were writing these things about him and the other members. 

Once you explained that it was back when they first debuted and you didn’t know them he would feel a little better about it, he would ask to come over to your place later to talk about it face to face. 

But, he read all of it, and as much as he wanted to be angry at you, the fluffy stories gave him serious feels, that was until he saw the one you wrote about him. It wasn’t like the rest of the members. It was dark, angsty and very very sexual. 

When he arrived at your home he closed the door and pinned you up against the wall “you like it when I call you daddy huh?” he would say as he smirked down at you.

You would blush bright red at the fact that he had seen the one fic you worried that he would see, you looked at your feet to embarrassed to reply.

He wasn’t having it, he would put his finger under your chin and make you stare him in the eyes, his eyes dark and lustful. 

You would stammer over your words and he would smirk knowing your answer, kissing your lips hard and roughly until you finally pushed him away and asked if he was angry.

“I am furious, but that doesn’t matter right now, I think my baby girl needs to be punished.”


Originally posted by wellhell0therenicetomeetyou

He would ask to borrow your computer to email his manager about some choreography he has been working on since his computer was broken. 

You protested at first because you knew your fics were on it but finally caved when he gave his signature pouty face.

He got to work emailing his manager as you jumped in the shower. He went through your files to look for the one he had saved, making sure it was saved properly before he got off your computer when he saw a folder labelled fics.

Of corse being the curious boy that he is he opened it to find a folder of each of his fellow members, including him. His eyes went wide as he looked at the bathroom door before opening a file about him, reading the fluffy content that was inside.

When you came out you saw him staring intently at the screen, a smile spread across his face, he didn’t even notice you had walked back into the room until you cleared your throat.

He would jump and look up at you. “YOU WRITE FICS ABOUT US!” he would blurt out before placing your computer to the side and jumping up to hug you and kiss your cheek.

He would gush over how good your writing was and say how cute it was and how he wanted to be like the Jimin you wrote about. 

You explained to him that they were really old and that you preferred the Jimin you were in love with now over that Jimin to which he would blush and kiss your lips sweetly and pick you up and snuggle you into his chest.

“I love you y/n”


Originally posted by helendrv

He would ask you randomly about it. 

“How do you think people write me in fanfics?” 

You would be caught off guard because you hadn’t told him you used to write fanfics about him before you met him in person. 

You would shrug and told him that they probably wrote him as cute a bubbly Taehyung. 

He would lay down on the sofa and look at you as you walked over, ruffling his hair before his face went serious. “Do you think they write dirty things about me”

You replied out loud that you did before you covered your mouth realising you said it out loud instead of thinking it.

He smirked and looked up at you “what did you say?”

you rolled your eyes and tried to shake it off but he wasn’t having it, he protested until you told him that you used to write about him and the other members.

He would ask to see them and you showed him all the stories, even the dirty ones. He would get turned on when he got to his dirty story and you would end up moving things into the bedroom soon afterwards. 


Originally posted by officialwookkibby

You were at home watching a live interview that your boyfriend, Jungkook and the rest of Bts where on. When the Mc asked Jungkook how he felt about how his girlfriend wrote fanfics about him and his members.

His eyes would fill with shock, giving off his signature Jungshook meme look before composing himself and replying that you didn’t write such silly things.

You face palmed, you knew you should have deleted that blog you used to write Bts fanfics on. You never imagined that first you would be dating Jungkook and second that it would ever be found by any of the members ever. 

The Mc chuckled and handed him a paper with what you assumed was one of the fics you had written on it. The members crowded around and all started to snicker as they started reading, more so at Jungkooks face then at the story itself. 

His ears turned bright red the embarrassment written all over his face. 

Namjoon would speak up and move passed the situation quickly before Jungkook could reply.

He didn’t speak much after that and just nodded and would glance daggers at the camera, he knew you were watching and you knew well that those were meant for you and no one else. 

After the broadcast ended your phone began to ring, you picked it up and apologise over and over again. 

“So you really do write that stuff about me….” before you could explain he said he wanted to speak with you in person and more privately. 

He would meet at your house the next day and you both would talk about it, he would be calmer and collected about it. He asked you to take the blog down and he said he did read the story and he said you were a good writer but she didn’t want anyone else to see those stories.

He secretly loved them but he didn’t want either of you to get any more media backlash about it so he had saved them privately to his computer and once and while would pull them up and read them from time to time in private. 



A Chris Evans Original Series

Title: Fated

Chapter 1: Across the Room

Author: @ohevansmycaptain

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC

The fact that a man could fall in-love with a girl through her writing seemed impossible, but that was what happened for Chris Evans and Denise Hogan. A simple tweet invited him into the world of fan fiction where her imagination ran wild. With sixteen years and social status separating them, it was unlikely they’d ever meet. But the universe worked in mysterious ways, bringing the pair to one airport; the last place they thought they’d fall in-love. It just goes to show falling in-love is effortless when two people are fated to be.

Denise’s fingers absentmindedly thrummed the tabletop as she murmured the last line she just wrote to herself. “Across the room, Chris watched you intently with a small smile on his lips. He thought of approaching you, but wondered if you were the kind of girl that would appreciate or reject his boldness.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, her finger hovering over the backspace key on her MacBook. It seemed like yet another cliché, and though clichés were what she and her hopeless romantic readers loved- she wanted to expand herself. She huffed and pushed down on the delete key, allowing her words to get chewed up by the blinking bar.

“What was wrong with that?” She flinched and tensed when she heard an oddly familiar male voice come from over her shoulder. The stranger was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his minty breath on her cheek. “Clichés are great.” He winced as he pulled back, knowing he’d gotten a little too close. “I mean- there’s a reason they’re overused, right?”

Usually Denise wasn’t the kind of person who would snap at a stranger in an airport; she was too worried about the repercussions to do that. Usually she’d just send a death defying glare their way and let her eyes do the talking as she’d been told she had a very intimidating face- one she’d no doubt got from her mom. But this was different, this was a stranger reading her writing without her permission. She’d always been incredibly protective and defensive when it came to her writing and people peering at her screens- be it laptop, iPad, or iPhone. It was her biggest pet peeve; she hated having people stand behind her while she was on any of those said devices. It wasn’t like she had something to hide, she just didn’t like her privacy being invaded.

“Thanks for the input I didn’t ask for.” She bit as she abruptly closed the screen of her MacBook; a chuckle heard from him. “Do you want to know what I think?” She quizzed rhetorically as she turned to shoot the nosy stranger her famous glare. “I think you should mind-” She cut herself off when she saw who it was. “Oh my God,” she felt her breath caught in her throat. She gulped then breathed, “you’re Chris Evans.”

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anonymous asked:

DA. That anon was rude, but here's the thing. I don't doubt OQers believe you're ERs first. But for the rest of us here's how we see it. OQers like that Lana's in scenes with SM instead of a good actor and you support Regina's OQ sl which almost destroyed her character. That's like when CSers say that they loved 5A, but at the same time call themselves JMo fans. How can you say you're her fan and condone that her big arc was taken from her and that she was reduced to a LI? OQers are very similar

Well, first of all, that’s not how “the rest of you” see it – because I know a lot of people who aren’t OQ who don’t see it that way. That is how some people see it, but not how “the rest of you” see it. Don’t speak for the whole; you are not the whole.

Second of all, here’s the thing: that is a matter of opinion.

You think that the OQ storyline destroyed her character, fine, you’re allowed to feel that way – but that is not an absolute truth. That is your opinion. Not everyone shares that opinion. 

Characters grow, they change, they have experiences and relationships that influence the way they think, act, feel. And some people will like those changes, and some don’t. Just because I do and you don’t doesn’t mean I am not a fan of the character. If anything, it means that you are no longer a fan of the character, and I still am. Which is not a value judgement on you as a fan of that character – if you’re a huge fan of Regina in seasons 1, 2, 3, but not 4, 5, 6, you’re still a Regina fan. You’re still an Evil Regal. You just don’t agree with the direction the show took her. 

That’s not my fault, it’s not Lana’s fault or even Sean’s fault. It’s the fault of the writers who made choices that you didn’t like. It doesn’t make you more of a fan, or less of a fan – and me feeling differently from you doesn’t make me more of a fan or less of a fan either. 

I am a fan of Regina. I love Regina. I love watching her story, I love watching her grow and change and try to find her place in the world. I don’t think that the season five storyline was good, but I don’t think it was not good because of Robin – I think it was not good because the writers didn’t put in enough effort to actually tell it well. Which, let me tell you, after the shitty, offensive soap-opera twist they gave it, was hard to do. But it can be done – I know this because I am an OQer and I have seen it done by talented writers who were willing to invest the time to explore what that dumbass plot line actually could have been if they had actually invested the time in letting their characters experience and process and deal with it rather than just sweep it under the rug.

I’m a little confused as to how you think Regina got reduced to nothing but a love interest, though, considering that the implication to that is that she was reduced to how she was relevant to Robin, and love him though I do, Robin could not have been less relevant to the show in season 5. He was rarely there, when he was he didn’t always speak, and all of his scenes were to support HER storyline. He had nothing of his own. Robin was reduced to a love-interest. Regina still had relevance to other storylines, and to the plot as a whole. The OQ storyline was reduced to a way to prop up Regina’s relationship with her sister – Robin and Regina themselves did not have a single conversation with each other about their own storyline in all of 5A until the episode where he DIED. Their romance was not the focus – Zelena and the baby were the focus of the OQ storyline, it wasn’t even about OQ anymore and it certainly wasn’t about Robin. 

So to answer your question, I can say I am a fan of Regina because I am a fan of Regina. I am a fan of Regina in all seasons, Regina is the only reason I still watch this dang show. I am a fan of Regina. You don’t get to decide who is a true fan of Regina, you don’t get to say that anyone who likes her now isn’t a fan because the only way to be a fan is to only like the parts of her story that YOU like. That’s not how it works. I’m a fan of Regina, I’m a fan of Lana. I’m not a fan of every decision the show has made for her, but them’s the breaks. It’s not my show.

As for the CSers who loved 5A and “call themselves JMo fans” they call themselves that because they are JMo fans. They are people who enjoy her work, they enjoy her character, and they enjoy the relationship they were getting a metric shit TON of on their screen every week. So OF COURSE they call themselves fans of her – they are people who love JMo’s work who got to keep seeing JMo doing the very thing that they loved the most week after week after week. And they don’t feel like her arc was stolen from her, they feel like she was an active participant in a storyline that they enjoyed. Maybe you didn’t enjoy it, maybe I didn’t enjoy it, but our opinions do not dictate the veracity of someone else’s dedication to an actor or character. 

Being a bitter, angry “the show destroyed my favorite characters” fan doesn’t make you MORE of a fan of something, it doesn’t make you a TRUER fan of something, and it doesn’t give you the right to determine who is or is not a fan, or who does or does not belong in the fandom. 

It doesn’t. Period. 

You don’t get to gatekeep that way. 

I love Regina, therefore I am a fan of Regina, therefore I am an Evil Regal. The character does not have a “Sell by” date to be considered safe for fan-ing. That isn’t how it works.

So this was a request by alisadelina that I wrote way too much for. Thank you for the request because, as you can tell, I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. The ending is the way it is because I did not want this to become too long. However I might turn it into a longer fanfiction.net story later. Enjoy!

Prompt: can you do a fanfiction request where you are a shield agent and you have to irregated loki and he keep flirting with you


Fury swept his fingers across the multiple screens in front of him.
“How’s ‘real power’ doing? Does he want a magazine or something yet?”
“No change, sir. He hasn’t said a word since you left.” Agent Maria Hill responded from not too far away. Fury frowned. They had managed to ‘capture’ Loki in Germany yet it didn’t feel as though he was truly a prisoner.
“Want me to send Romanoff in, sir?”
“No. Not yet.” He scratched his chin in frustration. Romanoff would undoubtedly be able to get results but something fishy was definitely afoot here and he didn’t want to deal his final card until he was sure he had the best hand. That being said, he wasn’t entirely out of options…
“Hill, bring in Agent (y/l/n).” He said and the brunette nodded to him from across the room before strutting out in search of you.

“Absolutely not, sir. I politely decline.” You said with your arms folded. 

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anonymous asked:

I was wondering - you've mentioned before that your blog isn't Moffat friendly, and I've seen a lot of DW fans that haven't liked him much. What are some examples of him writing sexist episodes/badly developed characters? Or do you have other issues with him? Sorry, I'm just curious as to how you feel (I'm just starting season 6 now, but I couldn't tell why he's so hated, although I wasn't really looking out for it)

*deep breath* Oh boy it’s been a LONG time since someone gave me permission to go on a Moffat rant.

I’m sure it goes without saying that this is going to be extremely anti Moffat. Avert your eyes.

There are a lot of reasons I don’t like Moffat, tbh. I’m going to start with the simplest one – you could drive a truck through some of the plot holes in his episodes. The most obvious one is The Angels Take Manhattan. Okay, fine. The Doctor couldn’t go back to that specific date to save Rory and Amy. Fine. Go to the day after. Or the day after that. Instead of, you know, leaving them trapped in the past.

“But Sam, they needed to leave!”

They’re are at least five ways it would have been better to write them off without leaving the question of “why can’t the Doctor just go to New Jersey and pay for them to take a taxi to him?”

Next – Moffat’s episodes are all flash, no substance. They are undeniably pretty – he reaps the benefits of four seasons of excellent writing and got a bigger budget than RTD in return. But the writing is shallow af and is almost impossible to get emotionally invested in. His Doctors are selfish children who mistake being rude assholes for being “edgy,” and his “emotional” scenes fall flat.

“But Sam he won awards for his writing!”

Yeah, well. Donald Trump is president. People make bad choices sometimes.

Now on to his sexism. I did a huge post about this a while back, which I’ll link at the end of this, but the tl;dr version is:

Moffat’s women have almost no character. I mean, okay, okay, okay, Clara was bossy, River was “strong,” Amy was sassy, whatever. But it’s so two-dimensional. When the characters were written by other people they were fantastic – one of my favorite Moffat-era eps is Vincent and the Doctor. Amy was fantastic in it. The writing was fantastic. Everything about it was fantastic. I cried. Unashamedly.

But the way Moffat set the characters up…they had no lives outside the Doctor. They weren’t characters, and their entire lives revolved around the Doctor.

“But Sam the show is called Doctor Who! What’s wrong with their lives revolving around him? RTD’s companions’ lives did too. And besides they did have lives!”

Rose, Martha, and Donna, all had characters outside of the Doctor. They had families, jobs (okay, Rose didn’t because the Doctor blew it up and Donna didn’t because life sucked but at one time they had jobs!). They had friends, and families, they had pasts that were completely separate from the Doctor.

Amy – met the Doctor when she was…I’m not quite sure tbh. Six? Seven? Young. Spent the rest of her life obsessed with him, to the point where it actually effected her quality of life (four therapists in ten (or so) years is a lot).

Clara – The impossible girl, born to save the Doctor. Her entire existence was solely for saving the Doctor.

River – *pause*; *deep breath* I will never stop being angry about the potential River had that was wasted. She was literally raised to be obsessed with and eventually kill the Doctor. She translated that obsession into “loving” him, and tied herself to him in a different way. She literally said once that she lived for the times when she could see the Doctor. That’s not normal. That’s not healthy. And don’t even get me started on their sham of a “marriage” (HIDE YOUR DAMAGE IS NOT THE SIGN OF A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP RIVER).

*grits teeth*; *moves on*

Moffat himself is a grade-A dick, which makes it pretty hard to watch his shows anyways. He’s been quoted as saying bisexuals are too busy having sex to watch his shows, that all bi people are just waiting for someone to make them straight, that asexuals are “boring” to write, he has literally insulted his wife before while she was pregnant (wondering when she would get back to her normal size), he renamed the Master as Missy because apparently Master is strictly a masculine term (never mind the sexual connotations that go with the term Mistress), the list goes on and on and on and on and on.

He queerbaits like nobody’s business – a perfect example being having Clara twice mention a relationship with a girl (once calling it “a phase”) but never showing it on screen, or having River reference relationships with girls but again never showing it on screen. And I know there’s a common misconception going around that Moffat created Jack Harkness so he can’t be homophobic, but…no, he didn’t create Jack. And yes, he is homophobic. He’s proven that multiple times.

And that’s about all I have time for right now. I’ll link some of my other rants below for you to peruse. If you enjoy his Doctor Who, that’s perfectly fine, and I am under no misconceptions that I’m going to change your mind. These are just my opinions.

My anti Moffat Tag (to see things I’ve reblogged and agreed with or added to)

Lack of emotional impact in Moffat writing

My BIG Moffat rant

She Struck a Chord in Me (Rob Benedict x Reader)

Requested by @sammyxorae (also tagging @totallysupernaturaloneshots since I heard they’re into Rob fics)

Pairings: Rob Benedict x Reader, SPN Cast x Reader

Summary: You are a famous Youtuber and you caught Rob Benedict’s attention when a fan of yours tweeted to him about your upload of a cover of a Louden Swain song. Later, you meet at a convention and sing together, thus lighting a spark between the two of you.

Warnings: mentions of being in an abusive relationship D: but with cute stuff ahead!!! also maybe a few a lot of F-bombs!!! and loads of song lyrics!!!

Word Count: 4125 


  • (Y/N)- Your name
  • (Y/H/L)- Your hair length
  • (Y/H/C)- Your hair colour 
  • (Y/T/U)- Your Twitter username 
  • (Y/F/N)- Your full name

Disclaimer: I don’t own Rob Benedict or Louden Swain and can we just forget the fact that he’s married and he’s got kids for the sake of this one-shot? Thanks.

(Rob’s POV) 

Rob scrolled through his Twitter as he waited to board a plane home with Richard Speight Jr, who was also on his phone, sending multiple messages to their fellow cast member of Supernatural, Misha Collins regarding a role in their joint project Kings of Con. Rob was extremely excited about this project as they got a lot of help from fans of Supernatural and also support from the cast members, and he felt really good about it. With luck, their show wouldn’t flop and they’d get a second season…

Just then, he saw a tweet with a link to a Youtube video. The tweet said that it was extremely important for him to watch the linked video, with promises that he’ll enjoy it immensely. The tweet came from a fan, but still, Rob was wary that it could be yet another Rick Astley link to ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’. It was 2016, but Rich never failed to send him that song whenever he felt like it, so he had his suspicions of Youtube links. Yet he found himself tapping lightly on his screen, in hopes that it was as good as the fan says it is. As the video loaded, Rob pulled out his earphones and tries to untangle it, successful after several minutes of grumbling about not having tangle-free earphones. 

 Finally, he plugged in the now-untangled earphones into its little earphone socket and pressed play of the video titled ‘Louden Swain: Why Not?’, which confused him slightly. Why not Louden Swain? Did she have a thing against his band? His doubts were silenced by a very beautiful woman with (Y/H/L) (Y/H/C) hair sitting on a red couch with a guitar on her lap, strumming in the video. She wore a Louden Swain t-shirt and he noticed a Devil’s Trap throw pillow placed next to her on the couch, indicating that she was a fan of the show. She stopped strumming before she spoke. 

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Playing With Fire - Part 10 (Cameron)


a/n: THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE <3 LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH holy crap I can’t believe this is the last part of playing with fire. my heart </3 I plan on making a sequel in the future idk we’ll see. this is for all my cam girls

Pairing: Cameron Dallas x Reader

Summary: It seemed like yesterday that Y/N chose Cameron, yet it has been months and Y/N has never been happier. 

Word Count: 1.8k 

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Cover Story: The Mind-Bending Benedict Cumberbatch

His obsessive fans have turned Benedict Cumberbatch into “the Internet’s boyfriend,” and next month’s Doctor Strange will only stoke the flame. Starring as another alienated genius, this one with superpowers, the actor reveals his own attraction to the edge.

When Benedict Cumberbatch was 19 years old, he got good and lost in the Himalayas. No longer a schoolboy in tailcoat and boater, not yet the internationally known star of Sherlock and one of the world’s most unlikely sex symbols, he had taken a gap year before university to get a glimpse of life beyond A-level exams and Sunday chapel.

In a hillside town near Darjeeling, he taught English to Tibetan monks, giving himself a crash course in improvisation as he conjured up instructional games. On weekends off, he would seek adventure: white-water rafting down the Kali Gandaki River, traversing the desert province of Rajasthan. (It was monsoon season everywhere else.) But the mountains beckoned.

So he and three friends caught a bus from Kathmandu. Sherpas were expensive, and they were students traveling on the cheap, so they decided, extremely unwisely, to wing it. Altitude sickness derailed them one by one: their group of four became a group of three, then a group of two. By the third night, Cumberbatch recalls, “I started to have really weird, fucked-up dreams, and felt things were happening in my sleep. I wasn’t sure if I was conscious or awake.”
He and his friend reached a spiritual fork in the road, which happened to be a literal fork in the road: up or down? They chose up. And that’s when they got utterly, hopelessly, bewilderingly lost. They ran out of biscuits. They drank rainwater squeezed out of moss, because they’d read it was safer than river water. As night fell, with their flashlights losing power, they pressed on through the thicket, until they spotted a corrugated-steel roof in the distance: salvation?
Turns out it was an abandoned barn. They threw themselves belly-down on straw and drifted to sleep. That night, they had even more fucked-up dreams, each of them convinced that someone—or something—was rifling through their bags. But when they woke up, there was no one.

The next morning, they followed the river, hoping it would lead to civilization. They nearly broke their necks slipping down moss-covered boulders. The alpine fog gave way to forest, and leeches stuck to their ankles. They found a path with fresh yak droppings: a good sign. Finally, the trees thinned, and they came to a clearing of terraced pastures and log cabins that looked like something out of The Sound of Music. Running toward the inhabitants, they mimed the international sign for hunger (fingers to open mouths) and were served the best-tasting meal they’d ever had—unwashed greens and a bowl of eggs—after which Cumberbatch immediately got dysentery.

“Ah,” the actor sighs 21 years later, “you take the highs with the lows.”

Cumberbatch is recounting this tale in the lobby of Shutters on the Beach, a five-star hotel in Santa Monica. He’s been staying here all week, doing pickups—minor shots after principal photography is done—for Doctor Strange, the reportedly $165 million fantasy film, in which he plays one of Marvel’s more mind-bending superheroes. He tosses his sunglasses and trilby on the table, then reclines on a canvas-wrapped chair in an off-white T-shirt and trousers, gazing blearily at the bicyclists and roller skaters out on the boardwalk. It’s 11 A.M., and he’s working on no sleep.

Seriously, none. He was out shooting an exterior night-time sequence until 7:30 in the morning, acting opposite co-stars who weren’t actually there, punctuated by long stretches in the makeup chair during which he struggled to stay awake. “It’s probably, hours-wise, the craziest day’s work, if you can call it a day, I’ve ever, ever done,” he says over an iced coffee. A tiny sparrow has flown into the hotel lobby and is darting around underfoot, its discombobulation mirroring the 40-year-old actor’s. He offers a very English disclaimer: “Fluidity, accuracy, intelligence, humor—all these things might be very odd today. I don’t really know who I am.”

And yet he proceeds to talk in a “Flight of the Bumblebee” sprint, like Sherlock Holmes briskly deconstructing a crime scene. (“Why, it’s obvious.”) On-screen, Cumberbatch’s motormouthed precision and dagger-sharp blue eyes can read as otherworldly, as if he were a slightly more advanced human life-form than the rest of us. If he’s been pigeonholed, it’s for playing socially challenged geniuses, people who compute more than relate: the World War II code breaker Alan Turing (in The Imitation Game, for which he was nominated for an Oscar in 2015), the WikiLeaks mastermind Julian Assange (The Fifth Estate), and, of course, Sherlock, whom he’s played since 2010 in the wildly popular BBC series.

Of Memes and Ben

Being Benedict Cumberbatch means living under a magnifying glass, like a fingerprint under Sherlock’s gaze. Nearly everything he does is captured, catalogued, and obsessed over by an ever widening rabble of fans. Some call themselves Cumberbitches. Or, slightly more P.C. (but not much), Cumberbabes. Perhaps it’s his accentuated Britishness—that Dickensian name, that Brontëan pallor—that renders him a kind of imaginary dress-up doll, a thinking woman’s fetish object. If Laurence Olivier had lived in the age of Tumblr, he might have been the “Internet’s boyfriend,” too.

A good chunk of the Web is now devoted to Cumbergazing, or Cumberfantasizing, or straight-up Cumberstalking. The @Cumberbitches Twitter account, dedicated to “the appreciation of the high cheekboned, blue eyed sexbomb that is Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch,” has 256,000 followers. There’s a bustling Cumberbitch group on Reddit, which celebrates “ThrowBatch Thursdays.” Biography.com outlined the “8 Essential Qualities of a Cumberbitch,” which include holding “an unofficial bachelor’s degree in Cumber-ology.” In 2014, The London Review of Books published a poem in which the author imagines meeting Cumberbatch at a party. He’s huge in China, where fans refer to Holmes and Watson as Curly Fu and Peanut. A baker in Indonesia makes “cumbercupcakes,” complete with edible figurines.


The Cumberfrenzy can be traced to July 25, 2010, when the first episode of Sherlock aired in the U.K., watched by 7.5 million viewers. Twitter went berserk. Something about Sherlock’s sexlessness—his nearly sociopathic focus on solving crimes, to the exclusion of normal human relations—made him that much more irresistible, as if just the right woman could turn him toward carnality.

Or the right man: the series is laden with innuendo about Sherlock and John Watson, played by a cutely befuddled Martin Freeman. Forums of erotic “Johnlock” fan fiction have filled in the blanks. (From a story called “First Times”: “All it took was a glance, and it was like the dam finally broke. They couldn’t hold back anymore. John had stopped, mid-breath, and then his lips were on Sherlock’s.”)

Cumberbatch greets the fan deluge—some of it creative, some of it creepy—with a practiced amusement. On my way to meet him in Santa Monica, I check online for the latest haul. A Twitter user has posted: “Sometimes when I’m sad I picture a shirtless Benedict Cumberbatch slowly eating an apple fritter. Try it!”

When I read this to Cumberbatch, he blushes on cue and says, “Have you tried that? It wouldn’t work for me.” He laughs, a little uneasily. “I’m glad I’m bringing a ray of sunshine to an otherwise dull day, being imagined eating fritters shirtless. But, I don’t know, it makes me giggle. I don’t look at myself in the mirror and go, ‘Yeah, absolutely! I see what they’re saying!’ I see all my faults and everything that I’ve always seen as my faults.”

Strange Days

Of course, not all the attention is so benevolent. Obsession breeds possessiveness, which can breed something darker. Last year, Cumberbatch married the stage director Sophie Hunter, and they had a son, Christopher (nicknamed Kit). “There are people who believe that my wife is a P.R. stunt and my child is a P.R. stunt,” he says, unsure if he should even be bringing this up—he knows that there’s no arguing with conspiracy theorists. “I think really it’s to do with the idea that the ‘Internet’s boyfriend’ can’t actually belong to anyone else but the Internet. It’s impossible he belongs to anyone but me. And that’s what stalking is. That’s what obsessive, deluded, really scary behavior is.”

Doctor Strange will surely add to the hysteria. The film, which opens November 4, will do little to dispel Cumberbatch’s reputation as the go-to guy for super-brains. (As he’s quick to point out, he also enjoys playing “out-and-out dummies,” like the love-struck loser Little Charles in August: Osage County.)

Created in 1963, by the same Marvel team that concocted Spider-Man, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange is a world-famous neurosurgeon whose healing hands are ruined in a car accident. Desperate to regain his skills and the material luxuries they afford, he travels to the exotic city of Kamar-Taj, where he meets a guru known as the Ancient One, played by Tilda Swinton. Trained in the mystic arts, he is reborn, in Cumberbatch’s description, as “the primary sorcerer on earth and the defender of our realm against other-dimensional threats.”
So much for out-and-out dummies.

If his brainiac roles have defined him, he insists that’s just because those are “the characters that pop. They’re the characters that people are in awe of, because they’re a little bit beyond us.” He might as well be describing his own curious appeal: part Mr. Darcy, part cyborg. And yet he isn’t a drag. “Benedict is an extremely nice person to work with,” Swinton says. “Engaged, quick-witted, enthusiastic, kind and relaxed, up for a giggle and properly companionable on long days, self-sufficient, concentrated, yet chock-full of fun.” (Swinton’s casting has drawn accusations of whitewashing, since the character in the comics is an Asian man.)

Cumberbatch is no comic-book geek, though he has trod in fantastical realms before, as the genetically bred Khan (another superhuman!) in Star Trek into Darkness. When some journalists at a Star Trek event told him a few years ago that he’d make a perfect Doctor Strange, he replied, “Doctor What?” He was “lukewarm” about the material at first, thinking the comic too dated: 60s occultism meets Cold War science fiction meets Orientalist pulp. But it put him in the mind of his sojourning teenage self, reading The Tao of Physics and searching for “the godhead within.”


And so, last fall, Cumberbatch caught a plane to Kathmandu, two days after finishing his panic-causing run as Hamlet at London’s Barbican Centre. (Advance tickets sold out within hours, leaving salivating fans to line up down the street.) It was six months after the Nepalese earthquake that had killed more than 8,000 people, and his first time there since his misbegotten trek in the Himalayas. This time, he was the antithesis of a man lost in the wilderness, searching for signs of humanity—humanity would now find him whether he liked it or not.

The first few days, he and the cameras passed through the city unnoticed, thanks to Strange’s “desperate caveman” look: scraggly beard, shambolic clothes. “We did a lot of guerrilla stuff, just walking through markets,” Cumberbatch recalls. The day he arrived, he saw a riverside cremation. Shooting atop the Monkey Temple, he watched “30 Tibetan women wandering around the central stupa with the all-sensitive eye in the middle, dragging their hands on prayer wheels, muttering their puja, their prayers.” It was enchanted, peaceful. But then word got out, and the crew was ambushed by locals with cameras yelling, “Benedict! Benedict!”—or, more often, “Sherlock! Sherlock!”

“There were throngs of people,” recalls Chiwetel Ejiofor, his co-star in Doctor Strange and 12 Years a Slave. “I didn’t know that Sherlock was big in Kathmandu, but apparently I was wrong.”

At one point—preserved on YouTube—Cumberbatch stuck his bearded face out of a window overlooking Lalitpur’s Patan Durbar Square and waved to the crowds; shouts of “Say cheese!” are underscored by a distinctly female group wail.

Time ran the headline -


Actors’ Actor

Nothing from his upbringing suggested that his chosen craft would inspire this level of fanaticism. He grew up in Kensington, the only child of Timothy Carlton and Wanda Ventham, both working actors who made careers in commercial theater and British sitcoms. (Timothy Carlton dropped the “Cumberbatch” from his stage name, thinking it too fussy. His son, after starting his career as Benedict Carlton, did the opposite, on advice from an agent.) Ventham, who has a daughter from a previous marriage, was a fixture on the science-fiction series UFO and the BBC comedy Only Fools and Horses. She was a stunner. “Whenever they wanted a glamour girl or someone rather beautiful, they wheeled in Wanda,” says her longtime acquaintance Una Stubbs, who now plays Sherlock’s doddering landlady, Mrs. Hudson; Stubbs recalls running into Ventham on the street and gossiping as four-year-old Benedict tugged at his mother’s dress.

Through his parents, he observed the profession’s ups and downs: “I saw the fallow periods as much as I saw when they were ticking along nicely and getting work.” Dragged to see his mother in yet another chintzy Feydeau farce, he would sniff, “If I see another one of those, I’m going to have to disown you.”

Nevertheless, his parents worked doubly hard to send him to Harrow, the elite boarding school. (His paternal grandmother helped with tuition.) Harrow was “obscenely pampering and privileged,” he says—alumni include Cecil Beaton and Winston Churchill—and as the son of actors he didn’t always fit in among the peers and princes.

But his first two years there he landed two big Shakespearean roles, both female. “The first time I stepped onstage in front of an all-male public-school crowd was dressed up as queen of the fairies, Titania, with a Cleo Laine wig and a pineapple crown.”

Playing Rugby and cricket insulated him from taunts. But in his final years he dropped sports to focus on acting and painting; his classmates, he says, “presumed that because I was into art I was definitely gay.”

After his mind-opening pilgrimage east, he returned to study drama at the University of Manchester and the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. He worked at a steady clip, playing Stephen Hawking in a TV biopic and earning an Olivier nomination as Tesman in a West End production of Hedda Gabler. But he envisioned something bigger than his parents’ journeyman careers: “I wanted to do things that they didn’t get the chance to.”

Now that Sherlock has made that possible, he may not be long for the role. Having filmed Season Four, which premieres in January, he does not expect to return to the character “for the immediate future.” Sherlock made him a meme; The Imitation Game made him an A-lister; Doctor Strange may yet make him a mega-star.

Role with It

Because he resembles a sun-deprived habitué of the London Library, you wouldn’t peg Cumberbatch as a daredevil, but he has always gravitated toward the edge: motorbiking, skydiving. “He’s definitely a bit of an adrenaline junkie,” says his best friend, Adam Ackland, whom he met while working on the 2008 BBC drama The Last Enemy. (Their production company, SunnyMarch, is developing several Cumberbatch vehicles, including an adaptation of the 1939 suspense novel Rogue Male.)

Acting, for Cumberbatch, is another form of thrill-seeking, a way to scale Himalayan summits of the psyche. Hamlet was a kind of Everest, one he seems to have conquered. As the Telegraph critic wrote, “Cumberbatch admirers can take heart, his female devotees are entitled to swoon: in this trial of his acting strength, he emerges, unquestionably, victorious.”

To understand his taste for the extreme, you have to go back to 2004, to a near-death experience even more harrowing than his misadventure in the Himalayas. He was in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, filming the BBC mini-series To the Ends of the Earth, and went scuba-diving in Sodwana Bay with two of his co-stars, Theo Landey and Denise Black. As they were returning at night, along a stretch of highway notorious for carjackings, they pulled over with a flat tire. Six armed men jumped them and took their cell phones and credit cards, then forced them back into the car at gunpoint and drove. At one point, Cumberbatch was stuffed in the trunk. “Ben kicked and screamed blue-bloody murder,” Landey recalls.
The robbers stopped under a bridge, where the actors were tied up with their own shoelaces, crouching execution-style. Convinced these were his last moments, Cumberbatch pleaded for his life. After several minutes of silence, he realized the men had left. The actors managed to untie themselves and wandered along the highway until they stumbled across some local women who lent them their phones to call for help.

Rather than retreating into himself, as some might after a trauma, Cumberbatch says the ordeal only intensified his lust for adventure. “I was definitely more impatient to live a life less ordinary,” he says. “I wanted to swim in the sea that I saw the next morning. If you feel you’re going to die, you don’t think you’re going to have all those sensations again—a cold beer, a cigarette, the feel of sun on your skin. All those hit you as firsts again. It is, in a way, a new beginning. But we were on our way back from the first weekend of a scuba-diving training course, so it wasn’t as if I was insular before that. I think it just made me run at it a bit more recklessly.”

The past two years have tempered, or perhaps transmuted, his need for adrenaline. When I ask where he wants to find his next thrill, he says, “It’s a sappy answer, but the truth is I want to seek some thrills at home.” He met Hunter almost two decades ago, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, but it took them years to get together. After a courtship that they miraculously managed to keep out of the tabloids, they married Valentine’s Day 2015 on the Isle of Wight. Hunter was pregnant with Kit, who was born that June, two weeks before Cumberbatch began rehearsals for Hamlet. He has since given up motorbiking, to say nothing of jumping out of airplanes.

“Having a baby—it’s massive,” he says. “And on a very unexpected level. Suddenly I understood my parents much more profoundly than I ever had before.” Fatherhood gave him counter-intuitive insight into the most challenging role in the theatrical canon. “I was expecting, with Hamlet, that it might be a hindrance to be a father, because it’s all about being a son. But it’s the opposite. You understand much more about being a son, becoming a father.”

Swinton says, “My fondest impression of him is as a new husband besotted by his girl, and a new father enchanted by his boy.” She doesn’t worry that fame will spoil him: “I think he knows that he wants—and has—a life first and foremost, that his life suits and nourishes him and that it makes the world go round.”

Speaking of which, Cumberbatch has to catch a plane—back to London for a few days, before a much-needed Italian holiday with Sophie and Kit. The sparrow is still flitting around the hotel lobby, suddenly alighting on the chair behind me. “Jesus Christ!,” I yell, embarrassingly startled. But Cumberbatch, unruffled, hops up from his chair, walks over to the terrace door, and props it open with a rubber wedge.

“That might give the bird a chance,” he says, backlit by sunlight.

It seems like a metaphor for something, but Cumberbatch is no trapped bird in need of rescue. Instead, it occurs to me, I’ve just witnessed a would-be meme, a Cumberbitch fantasy in the making.

Sometimes when I’m sad I picture a sleepless Benedict Cumberbatch freeing a tiny sparrow. Try it!

by Michael Schulman. Photographs by Jason Bell. Styled by Jessica Diehl. October 4, 2016 8:00 am (x)

anonymous asked:

Omg. I love your famous Stydia au headcanons. Can you write about how they finally get together?

She’s known Stiles for seven years, and he’s done a lot of shit in their life together, but bringing a date to Lydia’s movie premier has to be just about the worst. 

“I tried to stop him,” Allison says has they step out of the limo. The fans are screaming loudly at both of them, but Lydia ignores it as she plasters a small smile on her face. 

“Allison, of course. It’s fine.” 

It’s not fine. She feels uncomfortable in her skin, and itchy with the need to tell Stiles. She’s exhausted from guarding it. She’s exhausted from pretending. 

“It’s a little difficult to convince someone to not bring a date to something when you can’t tell him why.” 

Lydia’s publicist is lurking in the corner, looking a little anxious, but Lydia holds a finger up at her patiently. 

“Allison, it’s fine.” There’s one moment where her mask breaks slightly. “How… how much does he like this girl, exactly?”

Allison just sighs and hugs Lydia tight, crushing her hair slightly as she does so. 

“You’re an idiot,” she whispers fondly before shoving Lydia at her publicist and waving goodbye. 

The interview line for more upscale premiers like this one are far better than the ones for the teen movies that Lydia did before college. She steps up to the first interviewer and flashes her a winning smile. 

“Hi!” chirps the interviewer. “Congratulations on the movie, it’s getting so many positive reviews.”

“Oh, thank you!” Lydia beams. “George is a great director. I hope he does more, honestly.” 

“Your performance, especially, is already gathering Oscar buzz.”

Lydia feels a nervous tingle somewhere in her stomach. She smoothes down the fabric of her silver dress and plasters on her best smile. 

“That’s incredibly sweet of you to say,” she replies. “I think the work just–” 

She is cut off by the sound of screaming from the fans who are clustered across the street. Lydia squints slightly, but is fully ready to ignore it, until she catches the name that a few of them are chanting. 


They’re come in separate cars, and her first instinct is to turn around and see how good he looks in the tux she’d selected for him, because Stiles in a tux is a rare treat and a true blessing. But instead, she forces a smile and goes to finish her sentence. 

“Wow!” the interviewer says, cutting her off. “Sounds like someone big just arrived.” She squints. “Is that Stiles? Stilinski?” 

Lydia’s heart drops. 

“Um. Yes,” she replies, without needing to turn around. Yes, and I’m in love with him, and my walls are built up way too high to tell him because I spend my life pretending, and I’m sick of it. 

“The Pack has quite a following!” notes the interviewer. “Are you proud of their successes?” 

“Of course I am,” Lydia says, chest aching. “I’ve been friends with Scott and Stiles since we were all teenagers. Watching them move up in the world and have their dreams come true has been one of my favorite things about being in this town for all these years.” 

“And what do you have to say about the rumors that some of the songs are about you?”

Oh god. 

Lydia forces a casual laugh out of herself, feeling like this particular performance is probably worth an Oscar. Fuck the movie, this is her real legacy. 

“I think that would be a huge honor,” she says lightly. “But honestly, most of their songs are about Allison Argent. Scott’s been with her since they were sophomores in high school, and he does most of the song writing.” 

“Right, but the other members do too, correct?”

Lydia opens her mouth to answer, but is distracted by Stiles breaking every single rule she’s ever taught him and sneaking up behind her, snagging her around the waist and dropping a kiss onto her cheek. 

“Hey, Lydia,” he says happily, offering the interviewer a shy smile. “You’re holding up the press line.” 

She laughs through her nose, then nudges him away from her with her elbow. 

“Oh, right, I’m the problem here.” 

He beams at the interviewer. 

“She’s such a problem,” he says, before nodding at the woman and squeezing Lydia’s hip, then bounding away back towards his date. 

Keep reading


Almost unrecognisable from her role as the dowdy housekeeper in Downton Abbey, Phyllis Logan is starring in an exotic new medical drama. She talks to Judith Woods about seizing the day and those Downton movie rumours…

‘Obviously I never had a career to speak of before Downton Abbey,’ says Phyllis Logan drily, raising an eyebrow for further effect. ‘I sometimes wonder how on earth did I fill my time?’ It’s not true, of course, but we all know what she means: sometimes a jobbing actress is swept away by a juggernaut of a role that takes her a very long way from where she used to be.

The Downton effect has had an impact on the career of every member of its award-winning ensemble cast. Lily James has starred in the BBC’s War & Peace and the movie Cinderella, Michelle Dockery landed a role as a criminal in the gritty US show Good Behavior, Joanne Froggatt played a serial killer in the ITV series Dark Angel – and now Phyllis is set to star in a new ITV drama series, The Good Karma Hospital.

But it’s her years in service to the Crawley family that have made her a poster girl for ladies of a certain age who refuse to accept that life holds no more adventure. When her doughty but warm-hearted character Mrs Hughes finally found love with the pompous but kindly butler Mr Carson, it struck a blow for midlife love. In those days ‘Mrs’ was an honorific title bestowed on senior female staff, regardless of whether they had ever wed, so Mrs Hughes’s comical angst about whether he would be expecting ‘a full marriage’ struck a chord with any woman over 40 who has ever fretted about going to bed with a new partner.
‘Mrs Hughes was aerated about the sex thing because she probably hadn’t had much experience, but that turned out to be the least of her bloomin’ worries,’ acknowledges Phyllis. ‘God preserve us all from nitpicking middle-aged men who can’t abide change.’

In the phenomenally successful series, which ran for six seasons, Mr Carson (played by Jim Carter) turned out to be irrevocably stuck in his ways – the routines of the big house where he had been serving for many years. Ironically, it was his new wife’s performance in the couple’s kitchen (as opposed to the bedroom) that proved his greatest source of disappointment.

Eventually, with affectionate pragmatism, the pair decided he should eat his meals at the Downton kitchen, cooked by Mrs Patmore, as before. ‘It’s a very identifiable scenario,’ says Phyllis, 61. ‘When a more mature couple makes a life together, each brings certain expectations and baggage and of course there’s always need for compromise, which some men in particular find difficult.

Phyllis, once best known for playing posh totty Lady Jane Felsham in the 1980s and 90s series Lovejoy, was a late starter herself when it came to settling down. She met her husband, Pirates of the Caribbean actor Kevin McNally, in the 1993 miniseries Love and Reason when she was in her late 30s, but they didn’t get round to tying the knot until she was 55. ‘I had always sworn I would never have an actor in the house because they are so much trouble and so vain, but you can’t legislate for Cupid’s bow,’ she says.

When she got together with Kevin, theirs was not a series of careful compromises but a classic coup de foudre. ‘I never thought real love – the sort where your blood tingles and your world explodes with joy – would happen to me at my time of life. I believed I had missed out. But I’m ever so glad it happened.’ A couple of years later, aged 40, she had their son David. He is now 20 and studying music and music production at university in Leeds.

Once upon a time, reaching six decades was a milestone to be dreaded rather than celebrated, but, in well-cut jeans and a flattering floaty top, her burnished hair hanging loose, Phyllis provides incontrovertible proof that though life may not begin at 60, it sure as heck continues at a rip-roaring pace – as long as you have the right attitude towards the rollercoaster.

‘We packed David off to university not so long ago and as we drove back to our house in West London we were listening to the Elaine Paige show on Radio 2,’ recalls Phyllis. ‘She played Peggy Lee singing “The Folks Who Live on the Hill” and as soon as I heard the line “and when the kids grow up and leave us” I burst into absolute floods of tears and spent the rest of the journey splashing about in the passenger seat. But since then I’ve thought a lot about empty nest syndrome and how once your chick flies the coop it gives women the freedom to stretch their own wings once more, too.’

And as fate would have it, Phyllis’s new role in The Good Karma Hospital has allowed her to do just that and will doubtless prove a source of inspiration to a great many female viewers in a similar position. Set in India, the series features another estimable actress, Amanda Redman, 59, who plays an eccentric expat running a ramshackle cottage hospital, which is short on resources and long on compassion.

‘It’s a cross between Holby City and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel but with dark secrets, so it should be right up everybody’s street,’ says Phyllis. ‘I play Maggie Smart, who has come to India for her daughter’s wedding and becomes unwell, so ends up in hospital and falls deeply in love. Not with a man – she already has a husband – but rather with the community, the culture and the way of life. She’s a fascinating character who has such humour and joie de vivre and it was great to play a woman finding herself and connecting with a wider spirituality.’

Phyllis spent months filming the six-part series on location in Sri Lanka. She, too, found herself smitten with the place and the people and at one point Kevin flew over from the US where he is in the cast of the US television series Turn: Washington’s Spies and they managed a 12-day break together. ‘We stayed in a hotel on the beach and it was bliss. The majority of the population are Buddhists and seemed so calm, open and thankful for whatever life gave them; I think we could all learn from them.’

All the same, Phyllis isn’t entirely convinced she believes in karma as a concept. ‘It would be nice to think that if you are a decent human being then eventually things will turn out right,’ she says. ‘But fate can intervene and pull the rug out from under you without warning and there might be nothing you can do.’
It is something she and Kevin can speak of from personal experience. Phyllis’s mother died from a dementia-related illness aged 90, but it was the agonisingly slow decline of Kevin’s mother over many years that proved more devastating. ‘Kev’s mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in her early 60s and from then on his father became her carer and it was so hard for him. She reached the point where she didn’t recognise her own son and was agitated and upset because she had no idea where she was or who she was; that was heartbreaking to witness.’

Phyllis is an ambassador for Dementia UK and does what she can to support the charity’s work. ‘It’s such a cruel disease. I am aware there’s a genetic component so I do brain-training on my phone every day. Will that help stave it off? I have no idea; I think of Iris Murdoch – such a clever woman who dealt with words and complex memories all her life, and yet all those things that made her so creative and unique were taken while she was still alive. Ultimately, all you can do is cross your fingers and make the most of every day.’

Phyllis is certainly doing that. Last year was a veritable Air Miles bonanza; as well as her sojourn in Sri Lanka she went to Sydney for a Downton DVD launch, Los Angeles where the ensemble cast of Downton won yet another Screen Actors Guild Award, and then to New York to receive the prestigious Great Scot Award from the US branch of the National Trust for Scotland (previous recipients include comedian Billy Connolly and actor Alan Cumming). She wore a dress bought in John Lewis embellished for the occasion with a tartan sash and matching ribbon.

‘I’m not interested in fashion,’ Phyllis confides. ‘It’s just not on my radar. Whenever I’m doing a contemporary role, the wardrobe mistress will usually say, “Let’s go to Selfridges and get a personal shopper.” Most women would probably love it, but my face falls because I absolutely hate trying on clothes. One of the things I loved about Downton was the fact I had two outfits and maybe a coat if I got to go into the village; the girls in the Crawley family kept having to go for fittings every time there was a big dinner, which would have driven me mad.’
Logan loves…

Reading Alan Bennett’s Keeping On Keeping On. I love him; my husband Kev played him in the stage version of The Lady in the Van.

Listening to The Today programme on Radio 4 and Classic FM.

Watching I do enjoy a good nature documentary. Planet Earth II was spectacularly good.

Guilty pleasure A whole bag of Kettle Chips with a crisp glass of Picpoul de Pinet.

Beauty product Boots No7 moisturiser; it’s not fancy but it does the job.

Desert island luxury A karaoke machine, stage, lights and all the songs from the 70s. I’ll make a row of coconuts for an audience and there’ll be no stopping me.

The ongoing international popularity of Downton means Phyllis and various other cast members are still asked to appear at events to meet the fans and launch DVDs. She’s often asked about her wigs and whether she kept one; she had three identical hairpieces all of which she affectionately dubbed Elsie.
‘People ask me if I was tempted to take a wig or that big bunch of keys I carried, but that would be theft, because these things aren’t my property,’ says Phyllis emphatically. ‘Besides, if there’s a Downton movie, which I hope will happen, all the props and costumes will be needed.’

Ah yes, the Downton film; rumours still swirl but so far there’s been no confirmation. According to Phyllis it may yet happen if – and it’s a huge if – the cast members can ever be gathered in one place long enough. ‘It’s like herding cats!’ she laughs. ‘We’re all so busy and in different countries, but it would be such fun to get together again. The camaraderie on set was extraordinary.’
Phyllis was in every episode of the family saga. Her husband even appeared in a handful of episodes as Horace Bryant, the stern father of an army major who fraternised with housemaid Ethel (Amy Nuttall), getting her pregnant before he died in action. Horace persuaded her to hand over his grandchild to him, which was brutal but necessary as she had been sacked from Downton in disgrace and had taken to prostitution in order to survive.

‘I was quite miffed that the producer had offered Kev a job without even consulting me,’ laughs Phyllis. ‘I wouldn’t dream of queering his pitch – although I do think I’d be great as Johnny Depp’s mother in a Pirates of the Caribbean film [in which Kevin plays Joshamee Gibbs]. And every lad needs a cuddle from his mother now, doesn’t he?’ Her eyes glitter with the sort of mischief Mrs Hughes would most certainly not approve of, but now Phyllis has emerged from the shadow of her fictional alter ego, she is keen to push boundaries.

Last summer she resolved to challenge herself by taking on a theatre role in a dazzling touring production of Noël Coward’s Present Laughter, alongside Samuel West. ‘The prospect of going back on stage was a bit frightening, but that is exactly why I embraced it,’ she says. ‘I can be a bit of a scaredy-cat so I have to push myself and I was so very glad I did. It took me right back to my early days as an actress: booking my own digs, sitting on the seafront on my day off eating fish and chips. I also got to see fascinating places such as Canterbury, Cambridge and Brighton.’

Seeing the world – be it near or far – is something she gently urges all women to do once the kids have left. ‘Travel does broaden the mind and fill the senses,’ she says. ‘It gives you a new perspective and there are so many beautiful regions in Britain that I can think of no better way to spend time than exploring them because you’re a long time dead – so carpe diem, ladies!’
The Good Karma Hospital will be on ITV next month. Phyllis is an ambassador for Dementia UK and is supporting its campaign timeforacuppa.org

Styling: Natalie Read. Hair: Alex Price at Frank Agency. Make-up: Lucy Gibson at Frank Agency using Clinique. Table and vase, both Habitat

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-4128572/Interview-Downton-star-Phyllis-Logan.html#ixzz4WSbvI2CF
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Just a little spill

Author: really-meg

Pairing: Reader X Dylan

Warning: Swearing, alcohol

Word Count: 1,308

Synopsis:  You’re at a mets game when someone spills beer on you and you don’t realize it Dylan O’Brien. He offers to buy you a new jersey to replace yours and you realize he’s dylan obrien until later on.

A/N: I’m not a huge fan of watching baseball so I hope everything makes sense. I’m also so bad at writing blurbs about my writings because I want to say what happens but I also want to have some things you have to read to find out but hopefully I’ll get better. Also would you guys rather me write in first person or second person?

They were down one, last inning, bases loaded, two strikes. Your knee bounced in anticipation as Wright got into his place at home. If he struck out the game would be over and they would lose to the Dodgers. You absently starting biting your nails before Kershaw wound up flying the ball at Wright. You watched him swing the bat before hitting it causing it to fly all the way through the outfield into the stands. You jumped up screaming at the top of your lungs just like every other mets fan in the stadium. Your favorite team had won its first game of the season and you couldn’t’ve been happier to experience it in person. Suddenly you felt something cold splash over you and you gasped as your hair stuck to you face dripping down soaking your shirt with beer.

Who dare ruin your moment. It’s not all the time you see this happen.

You fly around to find your culprit to see a guy with wide eyes looking down at you from where he was standing.

“Are you kidding me?” You ask venom and annoyance laced in your voice.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry someone knocked into me and-”

“Listen dude I don’t know who you think you are but you caused me to miss the best part of the game, I’m soaking wet in beer and you ruined my shirt!”

You look at him and you have to grudgingly admit that he was indeed very handsome. He had moles spattered across his face a bit of scruff glowing brown eyes that shined in the flood lights of the stadium. He was clad in a backwards Mets snapback, a blue shirt and tan khakis.

You noticed his eyebrows furrow as he narrows his eyes.

“You don’t know who I am?” He asks curiously.

“Yes of course I know who you are.” You see his facial express quickly change.

“You’re the guys who spilt his beer all over me. You finish angrily.

Who was this guy thinking he could get away with what he did.

“You know what, I’m just going to go home and take a shower. Thanks for ruining my shirt.” You say and start your way up the bleachers past him.

“Wait.” He says catching your wrist successfully stopping and turning you around to face him.

“The least I can do is buy you a new jersey.” He says sympathetically.

“Okay, thanks.” You say looking at his moles, suddenly wanting to play connect the dots with them.

You turn around and continue your way up the bleacher knowing he was following you.

“So what’s you name?” He asks as you both walk through the crowded hallways filled with drunk cheering fans.

“Y/N. What’s yours?” You say quickly stepping to the right as someone ran down the hall almost toppling you over.



“What’s that supposed to mean?” He ask a unidentified emotion filling his voice.

“Nothing, just thought it suited you.” You say noting his odd behavior.

You finally stop at the gear shop and wade through the people making you way into the store going into the the section where they kept Cespedes jerseys.

You see the original blue and orange design and get a medium. You look around and see the same shirt in black.

YOu grab it facing Dylan who had been trailing behind you.

“Which one?” You ask holding the blue one to your body.

“Or.” You hold up the black one.

You switch between them a few times before he points toward the black.

“The black goes better with your eyes.”

You blush turning around putting the blue on before facing him seeing his own slightly flushed cheeks.

You smile before you both walk up to the cash register getting in line.

“So where are you from?” You ask curiously.


“But you were born in New York.” You say “I’ve always wanted to go to California.”

“What how do you know I was born in New York?” He asks looking around in the store.

“If you like the Mets it’s either because you hate the Phillies or you were born in  New York. I just guess but I guess I was right.”

He looks at you and tilts his head letting out a laugh.

“What about you? Phillies hater or New York die hard.”

“Grown and raised in the city.” You say finally getting to the cash register.

You hand the lady your shirt and Dylan reaches around grabbing his wallet grabbing his credit card swiping it.

She types on the screen before handing him a pen with the receipt.

He signs it’s messily and quickly before giving it back to her.

She hands him my shirt in a bag.

“Hope you enjoyed the game Mr.O’Brien.” She says looking at him with a smile. I don’t see his reaction but I see him stiffen. Why does that sound familiar? Have we met before? He turns towards me grabbing my hand pulling me out of the shop.

He hands me the bag and smile forgetting anything else taking it out of the bag.

I look at the price tag and notice it was ninety dollars. My shirt didn’t even cost 40.

“Oh god, this shirt was so expensive, I can find a cheaper one.” You say feeling bad., he seemed sincere when it happened but this was way too much.

“I’ts fine, that one looked really nice on you.” He says with a small smile.

“Yea but it’s way too much any shirt will do.”

“Y/N it’s fine I prom-” he gets of by a girl that I just noticed behind him.

She’s shaking and seems nervous.

“Uh- hi- hi uh can I have a picture?” She looks up to him with admiration and he nods smiling a half forced smile.


He says posing with her while the girls mother snaps a picture.

She walks away squealing typing on her phone.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“OH MY GOD IT’S DYLAN O’BRIEN!” A shrill voice rings through your ears and you suddenly realize what’s going on. He that famous actor in the Maze Runner francis. You best friend is obsessed with him.

He grips your arm pulling you through the hallways as a stampede of young girls scream and yell trying to get to him. You heart is thumping and you don’t know if its from the stampede of girls or that you have been hanging out with Dylan O’Brien.

He quickly pulls you into a janitorial closet and closes the door.

“What the fuc-” You start but his hand slips over your mouth stopping you from speaking.

You hear their voice get closer and they run past the closet.

He sighs and pulls his hand away from your face.

“You lied to me.” You say narrowing your eyes at him.

“I didn’t exactly lie I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

You no longer feel bad about the expensive shirt and rip your own from your body leaving you in just your black bra.

“Whoa- wh what are you doing?” He stammers looking at the ceiling.

“I didn’t feel like being covered in beer.” You say slipping it over your damp hair and onto your body pulling off the price tag and shoving it in your back pocket.

“Thanks for the shirt… and for no leaving me alone to get the wrath of your super crazy fans.” You say exiting the closet.

“You think I would just leave you there?” He says with hurt displayed over his face.

“I don’t know haven’t known you for too long.” You say shrugging.

“Why don’t we change that.”

“Change what?” You ask confused.

“Let me buy you a drink. It will be my apology for causing you to miss the best part of the game.”

“Deal, O’Brien.”

Previous chapters HERE.

Also i barely proof read this so if spelling and grammar are bad oh well soz.


Chapter 7.

You woke up, Still wrapped in Calum’s arms, You could feel his breath on the back of your neck and you smiled to yourself, Remembering last night and how great you felt, You jumped at the sudden noise of a slamming door, Waking Calum up as well, You look at him, still half asleep and you tell him to just stay in bed and you’ll go check it out, You notice Ashton and Bry outside the front of the house, You could hear them but it was obvious that they were fighting, It was unlike them and you felt a bit concerned about it. You left it alone, it was better for them to work out what was going on and if they didn’t you would step in and help, They were a great couple, The cutest couple and sweetest couple you had ever seen so it made you genuinely upset to see them yelling and pointing fingers at each other.
“What’s going on?” Luke asks, in his groggy voice, You jumped at the sound of his voice and surprised that he even said anything to you.
“You may want to back away slowly and pretend you didn’t just talk to me before your girl freaks.” You say, Still watching Ash and Bry through the window.
“Please don’t be like that.” He says, you missed him but you didn’t want anymore drama, so you just walked away from him.

“What was that all about?” Calum says with a stretch and groan, Sitting up in the bed.
“Ash and Bry.” You simply say as you gather up clothes to put on. Calum gave you a weird look and you nodded.
“I know weird right?” You say and he nodded back.
“So uh…. You ever gonna put this on?” Calum says as he hold up the ring that was sat on the bedside table, You smiled at him, jumping on the bed next o him, you sat down and he positioned himself so he was sat in front of you.
“Are you sure i’m honorable to wear it?  I mean i was the one who technically proposed so i think you’re the one that has to wear the engagement ring.” You say, He shakes his head with a smile upon his face.
“Something tells me it might not fit.” He says with a fake concerned look making you laugh.
You watched as he slid the ring on your finger, He kisses the back of your hand and smiles up at you.
“Beautiful.” He says.
You smile and give him a kiss.

The boys had decided to go and spend the day together, leaving us girls here at the house, you all didn’t mind though, The boys should have a day out just them, and you didn’t mind spending time with the girls, It also gave you a chance to check in on Bry. Arzaylea on the other hand refused to stay here with us and the boys refused to bring her along so she went off on her own adventure.

You has just gotten out of the shower and you sat on the bed to charge your phone, You being the type that gets distracted easily decided to go through twitter.
“I am NOT in a relationship with anyone.” You read. it was Bry, You looked at your phone screen in confusion. Did they break up? Was that why they were fighting? You contemplated on asking but you knew it wasn’t your business besides you knew that if Ashton or Bry wanted to talk about it to anyone they would come up and talk to someone about it on their own.
The second thing you see on twitter is a link to an article.
“Calum Hood of 5sos engaged?”
You stared at your phone once again in confusion, You and Calum both said you weren’t going to announce the engagement until you were back In Australia, Where you were going to tell His family and friends in person. But like always, somehow things get out. You felt a bit frustrated because you knew that the announcement was now out there and everyone knew, But you hoped that Mama and Papa Hood didn’t.
“You’re getting married?!?!” A text says flashing up on your phone, From Mom.
You let out a sigh. You weren’t even planning to tell her. She was never interested in yours and Calum’s relationship and to be fair you didn’t care for all you knew Calum was your family and your only family. You were an only child and your parents had been devorced since you were an infant, You still talk to you father but only ocassionally since he has a new family of his own now. Your mother on the other hand, You rarely talk to you, You had never really gotten along with her do to her addictions and rude comments she would make toward you, So as soon as you were old enough you were gone. And even though she has no right to tell you what to do she still feels like she does. You looked at the text for a bit and decided just to ignore it for now. You were better off ignoring everything right now, The brashton situation, The engagement anouncement on twitter and your mother. You were over the drama and you just wanted one day of peace so you decided to just keep it from Calum..

6:00 PM

You were sat in the kitchen cooking dinner for everyone, when you heard all the boys walking through the front door, they were smiling and laughing and you smiled, glad that they all seemed to have a great day, Arzaylea hopped up from the couch and ran straight to Luke giving him a kiss, Ash walked over and sat with Bry who was in the dining area where she was at on the computer, Working on something, Calum came up behind you, Wrapping his arms around your waist, You turned your head and gave him a quick kiss he set chin on your shoulder as he watched you cook.
“Where’s your ring?” He asked
“Oh i uh just took it off so i didn’t get it dirty while cooking.” You lied, To be honest you didn’t want to wear it until you had officially announced the engagement to everyone personally, You didn’t what people to see it while you were here and then make a huge deal out of it online or in the media, especially since you wanted to keep it a surprise for Calum’s parents.
Everyone sat down at the table and ate, You weren’t feeling very well so you didn’t have much of an appetite so you just sat back enjoying everyone’s company. The boys talked about the adventure they had that day and what a blast it was, Talking about how they saw monkeys and met really cool people who showed them all around these amazing parts of Bali, They all passed around their phones showing off the pictures they had taken that day. Ashton bragged about this guitar he found at a small shop and how he wants to have a jam session with the boys later, Bry seemed a bit happier, Her and Ash had talked a bit before dinner, so you hoped they worked out whatever they were fighting about earlier that day, You loved them both so much and you loved them together and you hated to see them fight, So you were glad they were somewhat happy again.

After dinner everyone hung out in the back yard, Swimming and playing games, Ashton was strumming on his new guitar You were sat in the pool with Calum, Your legs wrapped around his waist as you both just floated in the pool.
“Hey Cal! Smalz is on the phone, He wants to ask you about something.” Michael says, Referring to Kent Small, The radio host back in Australia. Cal pulled you off him and climbed out of the pool to grab his phone from Mikey.
“Hey mates what’s up?” Calum says, He sits down on one of the pool chairs drying off with a towel as he talks to Smallz on the phone.
“Uh, I mean yeah it’s true but we haven’t said anything.” He says as he looks over at you.
“No. We kinda wanted it to be secret until we got home.” He adds.
“My parents don’t even know…..” He continues.
“Yeah i mean if you could just hold off until we say something to them that would be great mate..” He says
“I don’t know who would have told those people but just act like it’s not true until i say it is alright?..” He adds.
“Yeah, Cheers mate. Yeah alright we’ll see you soon! Bye.” He says.
“Have you said anything about the engagement to anyone?” Cal asks Micheal as he hands him the phone back, Michael shakes his head no.
“Have you any of you?” He asks everyone and they all shake their heads no.
Calum grabs his phone and begins scrolling through his social media and the latest news section on google, You climbed out of the pool and sat next to him as you watched him look through every possible article he could find. Fans were freaking out, Most of them supportive some not so supportive Some believing that it’s all fake and some believing it’s true, But you knew that wasn’t the problem Cal had, He was more concerned with how the story got out.
“Such bullshit. We can never have anything to ourselves.” He says as he clicks on another link to an article.
“Calum Hood engaged to girlfriend of two years, Are they too young?” Was the headline.
You read along in your head as Calum read out loud to everyone

Everyone was a bit shocked at the article and looked around at each other as if to say ‘were you the one that talked to the press’ but everyone was quick to deny it and you and Calum both knew no one here would say anything you trusted everyone too much and you told Calum that no one here would go behind out backs to say anything.

“Except for one person…” He says as he looks at Arzaylea.