“Your soulmate is not someone that comes into your life peacefully. It is someone who comes to make you question things, who changes your reality, somebody that marks a before and after in your life. It is not the human being everyone has idealized but an ordinary person, who manages to revolutionize your world in a second.”
Warning: countertop sex, PinV, rough sex, choking, dirty talking, slight fluff, use of pet names ‘Daddy, pretty girl, good girl, mama, etc.’, mating press, angry Cameron, use of profanity, small spit fetish (?), no protection (wrap it upp), bratty reader. MDNI 18+
FULL ONESHOT
YOU AND CAMERON have a perfect relationship, one that people both envy and adore. Everyone on campus says he’s so sweet to you, how he’d never raise his voice even in the slightest, he even let you do his makeup when you wanted to try out something new. You two went on shopping sprees nearly every month and yet it seemed like his pockets were never ending. He made sure you keep up with your maintenance too. Hair always done, nails always done, lashes always done, toes always done. Whatever you asked he gave.
It wasn’t like he did it for no reason since he knew you always did same for him. Haircuts? Paid for. Manicures to keep his hands clean after games? Paid for. New games you know he’d like? Paid for. You both kept each other looking in the best shape possible. And that was one of the main reasons why everyone around knew you both as that ‘it couple’.
Now, it was around three in the morning when Cameron had arrived home. After a stressful day of practice, all the boy wanted to do was come home, shower, and lay with you. When he walked through the door, he placed his duffle bag next to the door and slid off his shoes. The first thing he did was scan the living room for you, which he found you on the couch, writing something in your notebook while a random true crime documentary played on the tv. What he noticed right after you was the loads of boxes and bags next to the sofa.
Cameron raised an eyebrow yet didn’t question it, he walked over to you. You were lying on the couch with your back against it, legs folded up and the journal in your hand. With a sigh, he parted your legs some more and laid right in between them. His head against your stomach while his arms wrapped around your waist. The boy lifted up just a little to peck your lips three times and then laying back down in his original position, “I missed you today.”
You let out a hum of acknowledgment before speaking, “I missed you too. What’d you do today? You weren’t answering me your phone like usual.” Your eyebrow raised in slight speculation. You knew Cameron would never cheat on you, but then again he was an athlete, one of the best actually. So you couldn’t help but worry sometimes.
“Coach had us workin’ extra hard. You know our final game comin’ up soon.” Cameron mumbled against your skin. His grip around your waist relaxed as your manicured nails moved to his freshly buzzed hair. A sigh of content left his lips and he practically melted into you, “What you did today, mama?”
You shrugged, “I went shopping, then I got my toes done since I got my nails done last week. And thennn I went out for brunch with my girls, and yeah. That’s all.” You listed out everything so casually like you hadn’t spent hundreds of dollars only in one day. See the problem was that you were always spoiled, starting from your family all the way down Cameron. So a limit was never a thing for you. Yet sometimes, Cameron couldn’t help but be annoyed at how much you spent, he knew he was apart of the problem but he was beginning to think it was time for a change.
“Youn’ think that’s a lot of money? You done spent damn near a thousand in the span of two days, and I know you writin’ another shopping list in that notebook.” His tone was soft but held authority in a way that made you freeze. Cameron’s head lifted, his chin now resting on your stomach so that he could look at your reaction to his words.
You blinked a few times, like you were trying to comprehend what seemed like the unknown language of saving money, “Sooo…?”
“So maybe we should start savin’. Youn’ think so?” Your deep brown eyes stared into his green irses. A small furrow in between your eyebrows. You looked at the boy lile he had grown two heads, saving wasn’t even in your vocabulary. You slowly began to sit up which caused Cameron to sit up too.
“Uhm no…” Your tone was unsure, like you were hoping he wouldn’t actually be serious about this. Who would you be without new things every other week? From your words, a furrow also formed in Cameron’s eyebrows. He couldn’t help but feel like you were being irrational right now.
“What you mean no? Baby, you gotta understand that we still payin’ rent for this apartment, we still got bills to pay, we got other shit we need to be worryin’ about. We can’t be blowin’ money cause you wanna buy some new shit every time it comes out.” His tone held softness, one that prevented the conversation into an argument. You felt like he was trying to gentle parent you at this point.
You stood up from the seat, placing your notebook on the coffee table, “I don’t wanna have this conversation.” That was his problem with you. Whenever something didn’t go your way you always ran away from your problems.
Irritation spiked in his blood, the conversation just added more stress on his back that just mixed in with that stress from practice. He could hear you rummaging in the kitchen, doing God knows what. Cameron stood up from the couch, he stretched out his long legs and walked to the kitchen. When you came in view, your back was towards him. He knew he couldn’t stay mad at you for too long and so did you. His arms slowly circled around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, “Why you mad, mama?” The boy questioned. His breath tickled against your skin.
He knew you were in the wrong, but he’d correct that attitude later. When you didn’t reply, he began pressing kisses down your neck, “Youn’ hear me talkin’ to you? Tell me why you mad, baby. Lemme make it better.” Cameron pressed a kiss on your sweet spot before sucking on it, his tongue swiped over the skin in a way that had you moaning under your breath. When he pulled away, the brown skin had a purple bruise.
“You ignorin’ me? You mad at me, baby?” He questioned, “I’m the problem?” The undertone of sarcasm had your panties unwillingly dampening. “Hmm?” He hummed out, a silence passed as he waited for a reply. He was met back with silence, and that surprisingly made him smile against your skin, “Bet.” Just like that, he flipped you around so that you were facing him. Cameron’s arms wrapped around you to lift you up and placing you on the white marble counter.
“Wait, Cam—” You didn’t even get to reply before his lips smashed into yours. You froze in shock before automatically melting into the kiss, your hands came up to cup his cheeks while his hand moved to grip the back of your neck and tilt for head for him. His tongue swiped over your plump bottom lip for entrance which you gladly accepted.
Your tongues slid together, the taste of mint was faint on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as the way his teeth grazed against your bottom lip. His hand moved to grip your jaw, his grip was gentle yet dominating. When you pulled away to catch your breath, he held your jaw so that your mouth could stay open. Then he spat in your mouth and sucked his spit back off your tongue.
“Cam, I— Don’t say shit to me. You wanted to ignore me so keep that same energy, lay down.” You sat there for a minute, shocked that this was the same boy who was just sweet talking you. Due to you taking too long for him, he laid you down himself. He pulled down your pink shorts, the pink hello kitty panties coming visible. A quiet snort leaves his lips before he became serious again. He pulled down his own basketball shorts and ripped your panties right in half.
Your wetness glimmered under the kitchen lights. He took his bottom lip in between his teeth, he lifted your legs until your knees touched your ears, “Pretty ass pussy.” He whispered. Cameron’s hand wrapped around his aching length before he slid the tip against your slit. The pre-cum mixed in with your slickness, “You ain’t hear me? Say thank you.”
“Thank you…” You say breathlessly, your heart was pounding in your chest from anticipation. A hiss left your lips as he slid inside of you. No matter how many times you both had sex you’d never get used to his girth. Cameron slid in so slow to the point where you could feel every vein sand twitch, “Ouu fuckkk.” You moaned out, your head falling back against the counter.
“There we go.” He coo’d. Then, he began thrusting in and out, his pace got faster and faster. He gripped underneath your knees to keep you in the position, “This what you wanted? Catchin’ an attitude for what? Huh? I been told you to cut that shit out.” He said through gritted teeth. His thrusts were so hard that the counter creaked underneath.
The sound of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, along with the wetness that harmonized against your moans and his groans, “Open this pussy. You hear me?” He watched as your face twisted in pleasure. Your jaw fell slack and moans left your lips like you couldn’t stop them.
“Yesss, yesss! I hear you, Cam.” You mewled, more wetness spewed from your entrance. He had never been this aggressive with you, clearly he had some built up pressure that he was finally releasing.
“That’s not me, get it right.” His hand came up to gently smack your cheek. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. Your mouth opened but nothing but moaned left your lips. Cameron’s hands moved to lift up your shirt, it was like he was in a trance at the way your breasts bounced up and down.
“Okayyy, okay. I hear you, daddy. I’m listening.” Your hands scrambled to grip the end of the counter you tried to push your body upwards but that didn’t help anything. With a tsk, his hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your upper body upwards. You nipples brushed against his torso that had your back arching into him.
Cameron looked eye contact with you, his eyes held a mix of love and lust, “Don’t run from me, mama. You hurtin’ my feelings when you run from this dick. Take it like a big girl, you got it.” He pressed a kiss on your jawline, then one on your cheek, then one on your nose. Lastly, he connected your lips. Your tongues moved together simultaneously, swapping saliva while his thrusts never slowed down.
When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you two together. Cameron’s other hand came down to rub your clit, the sensitivity made your body jerk forward, “Cammmn Cam, Cam, oh my goshhh!”
“I know baby, let it out for, daddy.”
lol thank my bf for this chapter cause boyyy I had a time last night 😭
Anarcha Westcott was a young Black girl enslaved in Alabama. After a traumatic childbirth, she developed vaginal and rectal fistulas, a condition that left her in constant pain and shame.
Instead of receiving care, she was experimented on over 30 times by Dr. J. Marion Sims, who operated on her without anesthesia. He used her body to develop a surgery that would later be used to treat white women, with pain relief, dignity, and consent.
Anarcha didn’t agree to any of it. She wasn’t a patient. She was a victim of medical violence.
Today, she is finally being remembered, not as a statistic, but as one of the true Mothers of Modern Gynecology, alongside Lucy and Betsey.
Most people don’t even know her name.
Alice Parker is her name. Back in 1919, she created and patented a gas powered heating system when most homes were still using fireplaces and coal stoves. She imagined heating an entire home safely, with different rooms warmed individually instead of relying on one fire source.
Even though her system wasn’t fully used back then, her ideas are the reason modern central heating and zoning exist today. That’s Black history. That’s legacy.
warnings: fan hysteria, paparazzi culture, invasive interviews, sexual jokes/humor, suggestive concert moments, screaming fangirls, fame, chaos, confident Michael
guys pls go easy on me with this one 😭 i wanted to try something a little different and i honestly don’t even fully know how i feel about it yet. this isn’t really a x reader fic, it’s more michael-focused, and i experimented a little with the writing style/structure just to see if i liked it. i’ll probably go back to my usual style after this, but i wanted to step outside the box for a second and try something new because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone
hopefully you guys still enjoy it as much as i enjoyed putting this together <3
This is very long, by the way, 15 pages on Google Docs, which is one of the reasons why I did not get out no comment part 2
--------------
The Jackson house was quiet for maybe three seconds before Michael’s voice came blasting through the speakers again.
“—don’t stop till you get enough—”
Jermaine groaned dramatically from the couch.
“Again?”
Janet snorted from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a magazine.
“You say that, but you still know all the words.”
“'Cause it’s everywhere,” Jermaine argued.
“You say that every day and then sing along every single time.”
“I do NOT sing along.”
“You absolutely do.”
Katherine shook her head softly from her chair, smiling while folding laundry.
Everywhere was an understatement.
Radio stations couldn’t seem to go more than twenty minutes without mentioning Michael somehow.
If it wasn’t his music playing, it was people calling into stations talking about him.
Talking about his voice.
His dancing.
His smile.
His outfits.
His everything.
Jermaine reached over and switched the station.
Michael.
Another station.
Michael again.
Another station.
A DJ laughing into the microphone:
“Ladies, please stop calling the station asking if we know Michael Jackson personally. We do not.”
Then the announcer’s voice came through the speakers excitedly.
“And in entertainment news tonight, Michael Jackson has officially been voted one of this year’s Sexiest Men Alive…”
Everybody froze.
Janet rolled backward onto the carpet, laughing.
“Oh, this is getting ridiculous.”
Jermaine looked personally offended.
“WHO voted for this???”
The announcer kept going excitedly:
“Magazine sales have reportedly exploded overnight with stores selling out within hours…”
Joe reached over and shut the radio off instantly.
— — — — —
By the next morning, it was worse.
Much worse.
Magazine covers were EVERYWHERE.
Huge glossy pictures of Michael covered storefronts all across the city.
Dark sunglasses despite the fact that it was clearly nighttime in the photoshoot.
Gold chains around his neck.
Black shirt hanging halfway open.
The photographers on television sounded insane.
“MICHAEL LOOK OVER HERE…”
“THAT’S THE COVER.”
Camera flashes exploded nonstop around him.
Michael leaned back against a cream-colored couch, looking completely relaxed while women somewhere behind the cameras could literally be heard screaming.
Marlon stared at the TV.
“…what kinda photoshoot is this?,its nasty.”
Janet grabbed the magazine from Marlon’s hands.
“MOVE ”
Then another photo.
Michael is shirtless this time.
Gold chain against his chest.
Curls damp around his face.
Gray sweatpants hanging low enough to make Katherine immediately cover her eyes.
“Oh no”
Jackie stared at the page in disbelief.
“Why he laying like that???”
Jermaine looked traumatized.
“Exactly, and WHO told him to pose like this?”
Another picture.
Michael stretched out across the couch with one arm behind his head while staring directly into the camera through dark sunglasses.
The comments beneath the televised reveal were somehow worse.
“That man could ruin my life, and I wouldn't even complain.”
“Those sweatpants are disrespectful to my mental health.”
“HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING.”
Another girl clutched the magazine to her chest dramatically.
“If Michael Jackson asked me to bark for him, I would.”
Katherine looked Appalled.
“Michael Joseph Jackson, this is not how I raised him.”
Then the special moved into concert footage.
And suddenly, everybody got quieter.
Because no matter how much they joked…
Michael really was different onstage.
Bigger somehow.
The screen flashed with clips from different performances around the country.
Crowds screaming before he even appeared.
People fainting.
Crying.
Shaking.
The second Michael stepped onto the stage during one concert, the sound from the crowd became almost deafening.
The commentator spoke over the footage.
“Michael Jackson concerts have started drawing record-breaking crowds across the country…”
“Fans describing his performances as less like concerts and more like spiritual experiences.”
Michael spun across the stage effortlessly while the crowd screamed so loudly the audio almost distorted.
Sweat rolled slowly down his neck beneath the lights.
Chains bounced against his chest while he danced.
Then…
He ripped his shirt open.
The crowd LOST THEIR MINDS.
People crying.
Security guards looking stressed.
Then the footage cut again.
Another concert.
Another crowd absolutely losing control.
A girl somehow broke through security and sprinted toward the stage.
Michael barely had time to react before she launched herself directly into his arms.
The audience screamed.
The girl looked up at him, realized she was being held by Michael Jackson
Then passed out cold
Michael looked genuinely panicked.
“Oh my God ”
“Is she okay???”
Security rushed over while Michael stood there trying not to laugh.
Then another clip.
A girl climbed onto the stage sobbing so hard she could barely stand.
Michael gently grabbed her hands to steady her before kissing her cheek quickly.
The girl collapsed to her knees SCREAMING.
actual screaming.
The microphone picked it up and everything.
Jermaine pointed aggressively at the TV.
“SEE?!”
“COMPLETELY OUTTA HAND AND HE LOVING IT TOO.”
Then another clip.
Another concert.
Another fan somehow getting close enough to grab at Michael’s waistband, trying to pull his pants down, before security practically dragged her backward through the air.
Michael jumped back, startled.
Katherine looked horrified.
“These girls have lost their minds.”
Janet had tears running down her face from laughing so hard.
The montage somehow got even crazier.
Clips of girls lifting handmade signs:
“MICHAEL, I SKIPPED MY WEDDING FOR THIS.”
“I WANT YOUR BABIES.”
“STEP ON ME.”
Jermaine looked physically disgusted.
“Why are they acting like this”
Then, one concert clip played that made history.
Michael was dancing near the front of the stage when a woman in the crowd suddenly flashed him.
Michael froze mid-dance.
The crowd SCREAMED.
Michael started laughing
Not even subtle laughing.
Full smile.
Head thrown back.
Trying to keep performing while clearly caught off guard.
— — — — — —
Michael looked unreal onstage.
Sweat dripping slowly down his neck beneath bright lights.
Chains moved against his chest while he danced.
Spinning effortlessly.
Moving like his body was made for music.
The commentators spoke over the footage.
“Fans and critics alike have become fascinated not only with Michael Jackson’s music… but his stage presence.”
“Many are calling him one of the greatest performers of his generation already.”
Then came the interview montage.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Michael sat comfortably in a chair, wearing black sunglasses despite being indoors.
Smiling.
Relaxed.
The interviewer smiled carefully.
“So Michael… you’ve said before that you don’t do dirty dancing.”
Michael nodded immediately.
“That’s right.”
Janet already started yelling.
“Oh, he KNOWS he lying.”
The interviewer grinned.
“Well… on that note, we actually prepared a few clips.”
Michael froze.
“…oh no.”
The screen behind him lit up instantly.
Michael thrusting during concerts.
Grabbing his crotch.
Dropping to his knees.
Humping the stage.
Sweat everywhere.
Fans screaming like the world was ending.
The interview audience LOST IT.
Michael hid his face, laughing immediately.
The interviewer turned back toward him slowly.
“…you don’t dirty dance?”
Michael was laughing too hard to answer.
Then finally:
“No comment.”
“…no comment.”
The audience SCREAMED.
Another interviewer leaned forward afterward.
“You’ve always described yourself as respectful toward women.”
Michael nodded seriously.
“I am.”
“I’m a gentleman, it is how I was raised to be.”
Then the montage started, again. (He's gotta stop all that lying, he was a gentleman though)
Fast clips.
Michael hugging women around the waist.
Pulling fans close while smiling.
Whispering in girls’ ears backstage.
Kissing women’s hands.
Calling women “good fish.”(I love this man so much i-...)
Checking somebody out before immediately trying to act innocent afterward.
The audience was screaming again.
One clip showed Michael walking past a woman before quietly muttering:
“That’s good fish right there.”
The woman literally started CRYING
The same woman during a later interview:
“MICHAEL JACKSON CALLED ME GOOD FISH.”
“ So I’m getting it tattooed on my body.”
The interviewer looked back toward Michael slowly.
“…a gentleman?”
Michael shrugged innocently.
“Well…”
“I’m also a man.”
The next interview clip was somehow even worse.
The interviewer gestured toward a massive screen behind Michael.
“So there seem to be… specific things people obsess over when it comes to you.”
Michael immediately looked suspicious.
Then the clips started rolling.
Close-up of Michael gripping a microphone.
The audience screamed instantly.
The interviewer:
“Apparently… the hands are a very big topic.”
“What I wouldn't give to have those inside of me.”
Michael bent forward, laughing.
Then another clip.
Sweat rolling slowly down his neck during a concert.
Women screaming in the background.
“The neck has also become… surprisingly controversial.”
Even Michael looked shocked now.
“Oh my God”
Then came the abs.
Quick shirt-ripping montage.
The audience practically exploded.
One man in the audience yelled:
“I UNDERSTAND IT NOW.”
Michael was fully crying, laughing at this point.
“I’m literally just standing there”
The interviewer nodded seriously.
“That appears to be enough.”
— — — — — — — —
The interviewer smiled too sweetly.
That was always the warning sign.
Michael sat comfortably in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, sunglasses pushed slightly down his nose, while the audience watched him carefully.
“So Michael,” the interviewer started carefully, “a lot of people are… curious about your personal life lately.”
“Uh oh”
The audience laughed.
The interviewer continued anyway.
“There are rumors about women throwing themselves at you backstage…”
A pause.
“And honestly, after seeing those concert clips, I think everybody wants to know the same thing.”
Michael leaned back slowly.
“And what exactly is that?”
The interviewer smiled.
“Are you actually as innocent as you pretend to be?”
Michael blinked once.
Then twice.
Then:
“What kinda question is that?”
The audience erupted laughing.
The interviewer kept pushing.
“Well, people think your image is very… sweet.”
“But your performances are very suggestive.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“Mhm.”
“So are you secretly a heartbreaker?”
Michael looked genuinely confused.
“Secretly???”
The interviewer laughed harder now.
“So you admit it?”
Michael shrugged.
“I think people project a lotta things onto me.”
“Some of y’all need hobbies.”
The audience absolutely exploded.
Then the interviewer asked the WORST possible question.
“So… are you a virgin?”
The room went SILENT.
Michael stared at her for a full three seconds like he genuinely could not believe what he just heard.
“…you people ask very strange things.”
The interviewer looked embarrassed now, but still laughed awkwardly.
“So that’s a no?”
Michael adjusted his sunglasses calmly.
“That’s a none-of-your-business.”
Then he smiled slightly.
“But thank you for your concern.”
— — — — — — — — —
“So Michael,” she started smoothly, “you’ve become something of a… sex symbol recently.”
The audience screamed immediately.
Michael sighed dramatically.
“Uh oh”
The interviewer laughed.
“No, seriously. Women are losing their minds over you.”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently???”
She gestured toward the crowd.
“Michael, there are people outside this building right now screaming your name.”
Michael shrugged innocently.
“I can’t control that.”
The audience laughed.
The interviewer leaned forward slightly.
“But do you enjoy the attention?”
Michael smiled behind the sunglasses.
“…maybe a little.”
The interviewer continued.
“Fans describe you as charming… seductive…”
Michael immediately pointed at her.
“Now hold on”
The audience erupted laughing again.
“I never said all that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she replied quickly.
“Your concerts said it for you.”
Then the interviewer smiled again.
“There are also rumors that you flirt backstage.”
Michael blinked once.
“…define flirt.”
The interviewer laughed harder now.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Michael leaned back comfortably.
“I’m friendly.”
“Friendly?”
“Mhm.”
“Calling women ‘good fish’ is friendly?”
Michael immediately started laughing again.
One audience member screamed:
“CALL ME GOOD FISH PLEASE”
Michael pointed toward the audience.
“See? They like it.”
The interviewer shook her head, laughing.
“So are you telling me all these women are exaggerating?”
Michael adjusted his sunglasses slowly.
“I think people say a lotta things about me.”
“That’s not a denial.”
Michael smiled.
“That’s because I didn’t deny it”
— — — — — —
A security guard sat in front of the camera, looking completely exhausted.
“I’ve worked concerts for years.”
“I’ve never seen anything like Michael Jackson fans.”
Another guard shook his head immediately.
“No, seriously. These people are DIFFERENT.”
One guard continued:
“One girl jumped onstage, passed out, woke back up, and tried to run toward him AGAIN, slipped, fell, and almost broke her neck.”
Another:
“Somebody stole my walkie-talkie.”
“One woman bit me.”
The interviewer off camera:
“…bit you?”
The guard stared directly into the camera
“BIT ME”
— — — — — — — —
The mansion interview aired last.
The camera followed interviewers through giant black gates while fans screamed outside them.
Then the mansion came into view.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Animals wandering the property.
Michael looked happy.
Not nervous.
Not exhausted.
Happy.
He greeted them wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and no sunglasses for once.
One interviewer smiled carefully.
“You seem… different lately.”
Michael looked down briefly before smiling.
“I feel different.”
The camera quietly caught details around the room.
Another coffee cup was sitting beside his.
A jacket hanging over a chair that clearly didn’t belong to him.
Michael noticed the camera glance toward it and smiled to himself.
Then another interviewer asked:
“So… are you in love?”
Being on tumblr there are definitely Sinners criticisms I agree with and ones I don’t. Just focusing on a couple things I’ve seen…maybe I’ll come back & talk on others too.
It’s interesting to see how people interpret things.
I wasnt’t tapped in with the promo first time around but going back you can definitely see who the studio wanted to be the focal couple. I think it showed in the promo too. The promo with just MBJ & Hailee was buggy and day compared to Wunmi & MBJ’s promo. Not really a knock on Hailee she played her character well I just think it’s different levels of chemistry, connectedness, and storytelling.
I think though although Hailee & MBJ also had chemistry it really didn’t touch the chemistry Wunmi & MBJ had so bias aside I think it was clear which relationship would resonate more with multiple audiences. But you know colorism & fatphobia so. Like thinking about the audiences who go for romance they would be more drawn to the couple where the man even with his hard exterior allows himself to be vulnerable & express his love through words and actions and the woman gets to be strong vulnerable no nonsense and kind & not have to shrink herself in any way to be adored respected and loved completely. Compared to a relationship where outside of the racial politics…she is going around having to beg and chase him to be honest with her about his feelings & him just leaving in the dead of night (when they were together). Romance crowds are always drawn to full, all encompassing, deep love versus a more infatuation type especially when the latter doesn’t really evolve in the movie including killing him so you could be together which is something you decided yourself.
Not surprised by a studio doing what a studio does smh. I do like it blowing up in their face because not only was Annie a fan favorite and a huge part of the plot which was a take away most viewers had but Smoke & Annie was THEE couple people were drawn too and wanted more and more of.
I don’t agree with people seeing the movie featuring Stack/Mary as a couple more tbh. It doesn’t come across that way to me. I think even outside of the shack scene throughout the night we see a consistent view of what their relationship is like. Being side by side, seeking each other out, looking to each other for support confirmation comfort, etc.
Maybe because outside of the montage for the most part Mary is just trying to force Stack to admit he loves her while he refuses and talks to her any kind of way for the most part. While Annie doesn’t even have to pull anything frfr out of Smoke he freely gives it. It’s clear he was someone who never wanted to be away from her while Stack was never going to stay. I definitely agree the Smoke & Annie should’ve been featured more in the montage though.
I do wonder who all was involved in rewriting a substantial part of Smoke’s character between the first draft & filming. That was absolutely needed & I’m glad that happened. If Smoke would’ve stayed the same as he was in that script draft available to read, we absolutely would not feel the way we do about him & more importantly his relationship with Annie so the corrections were needed in order for their relationship to be what they wanted it to come across as—two people deeply in love who even with grief & different beliefs they love each other fully, never wanted to be separated, are vulnerable with each other in a way they aren’t with anyone else, and respect each other enough to not really talk down to each other & let the other take the lead when needed.
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