#i would sleep with the director if it meant getting this scene

[bonnieisaway]

meihua "snitched on myself so hard as i said 'i could never have feelings for you' to a man i just stabbed because by no means did he believe you did love him back and also not even five minutes later you turned around and changed your mind about this decision and i don't think it's necessarily occurred to either of us how hard i just outed myself' shisan

[psformybss]

Can you do one where the public reacts badly towards Drew’s secret?fiancée? I know you have done a good one but can you do a bad one?

When the World Knew

series masterlist

warnings: internet hate, secret relationship reveal, angst, emotional distress, comfort, death threats (mentioned), protective!Drew, hurt/comfort

an: fun fact i originally wanted to make the reveal angsty, actually wrote a few different versions of it and this one is one of them except more angsty than it originally was

The day they got caught was golden.

Not metaphorically—actually golden.

The light, the laughter, the way the ocean curled around their ankles as they kissed. Teddy chased a gull down the shoreline. Drew held her hand like it was second nature, like no one was watching. Because they thought—hoped—no one was.

For a few sacred hours, it was just them and the surf. A soft kind of joy.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the picture hit the internet like a match to dry brush.

By morning, it was a fire.

By evening, it was an inferno.

And by the next day, it was war.

She hadn’t meant to check her phone.

She shouldn’t have.

But the moment she saw her face plastered across fan accounts, tagged in screenshots of that photo, the dread sank into her like a stone in water.

They had found her.

Not just her name—her Instagram. Her photos. Her old high school posts. Her graduation selfie with Drew’s arm around her waist. The blurry prom pic she forgot even existed.

And they ripped her apart.

Her DMs were flooded.

“You’ll never be enough for him.”

“He deserves better.”

“You’re ruining his career.”

“He could have any woman he wants, and he chose you?”

Then it got worse.

“Die.”

“Go kill yourself.”

“He’ll leave you. They always do.”

She locked her phone and sat in the silence of their bedroom, blinds drawn, heart thudding behind her ribs like a warning bell. Her skin itched. Her throat burned. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to scream or throw up.

Teddy barked from the living room. She didn’t move.

Her hands were shaking.

Drew found out during a scene break on set.

His phone vibrated nonstop—texts from his sister, his publicist, old high school friends, “Check Instagram now.”

He pulled up Instagram.

Saw the photos.

Saw the screenshots.

Saw the hate.

Saw her name trending.

He didn’t even tell the director he was leaving.

She didn’t hear him come in.

She was still sitting on the floor of the bathroom, back against the tub, eyes blank. Her phone was on the counter with the screen turned face-down.

He said her name once—softly.

She didn’t answer.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, cupping her face with trembling hands. “Hey. Baby. Look at me.”

Her eyes flicked to his. Shiny. Empty.

“They found me,” she said, voice hollow. “They found everything.”

Drew’s stomach twisted.

“They’re sending death threats.”

She blinked, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

“They said I should kill myself so you can be free.”

“Jesus,” he breathed, pulling her into him. She didn’t fight it. Just collapsed against his chest like she had nothing left holding her up.

“I thought I could handle it,” she whispered. “But I didn’t think it would be this.”

His jaw clenched. He stroked her hair like it could ground her. Like maybe if he held her close enough, none of it would stick.

“They don’t know you,” he said, his voice raw. “They don’t get to touch you like this.”

“I feel disgusting,” she choked. “Like I ruined everything. Like I’m the villain in their fantasy.”

“No. No,” he said, pulling back to meet her eyes. “This is not your fault. You didn’t ask for this.”

“We waited, Drew. We waited. We wanted it to be ours. Safe. Now they’ve taken even that.”

He saw it then—the heartbreak buried beneath the fear. Not just the backlash. But the grief of losing something sacred.

“I should’ve protected you,” he said quietly.

She shook her head, voice trembling. “You did. You always have.”

That night, Drew didn’t sleep.

She lay in bed beside him, silent tears soaking into his hoodie. He stayed awake, watching the curve of her cheek against the pillow, the slight hitch of her breath. Every time her phone buzzed on the nightstand, he had to force himself not to throw it across the room.

By dawn, he’d had enough.

He opened Instagram. Sat on the edge of their bed. Hit record.

No lights. No filters. Just a man and his fury.

“If you’re my fan,” he said, “you don’t get to send death threats to the woman I love.”

His voice was low, but it shook.

“She’s been part of my life since we were kids. Before the shows. Before the cameras. She has never once asked for attention or clout or anything from me but love.”

He swallowed hard.

“And now, because someone snapped a picture, she’s being harassed, threatened—told to die. All because she wears a ring I gave her.”

A pause. His eyes narrowed.

“I’m done being quiet. This isn’t just internet drama. This is real. This is the woman I’m going to marry, and you’re hurting her.”

His hand tightened around the phone.

“If you say you care about me—really care—then stop. Right now. Because I won’t stand by and watch you destroy the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He posted it without rewatching.

Then he turned off his phone.

And climbed back into bed.

The internet fractured.

Some fans doubled down—called him whipped, dramatic, claimed he was “blaming his supporters.”

But others fought back harder.

“This woman has done nothing wrong. Leave her alone.”

“Imagine being with your high school sweetheart and people think you’re the villain?”

“I can’t believe how disgusting people are being. Drew’s right to be furious.”

“Love like this doesn’t happen often. Protect it.”

Slowly, the tide shifted.

Not fully. But enough.

She could breathe again.

Not because the hate was gone.

But because he didn’t let her drown in it alone.

They stayed inside for a few days.

Ordered takeout. Watched comfort movies. Played music too loud just to block out the world.

Drew held her through the panic. Sat with her through the silence.

He kissed her like he meant it. Like he was building a new shield around her every time.

And eventually, she started to come back to herself.

She started answering texts again. Opened her camera roll and smiled at pictures of Teddy chasing his tail. Sat on their back porch with her knees pulled to her chest and said, “Maybe one day we’ll laugh about this.”

Drew kissed her temple.

“Maybe,” he agreed.

[moonsaver]

wheover that anon was that spoke up about mr reca I LOVE U WE SHOULD KISS

ALSO YESSS IRIS FAM MEMBER! READER WHOS AN ACTRESS/ACTOR!!! just imagine being THE mr. reca’s favorite thespian he’s ever worked with oh my gosh im drooling rn 😍🥰😋🔥😜

Yes anon!! Very real of the other anon. And of you.

This is yandere, so tw

Iris!Reader who's an actress/actor would smash. Imagine despite your humble beginnings and barely being able to keep your family afloat you make it. Although perhaps our beloved actor/actress doesn't quite fit the beauty standard, or they haven't made their debut in a popular film, or maybe they just aren't what most movies are focused on right now, considering the disparity between an actor's range and the genres they might partake in.

Here comes Mr. Reca, swooping you from who knows where, plopping you down into a makeup chair and reading the script to you at 50 words/sec speed. You have no idea where you are or what's going on before you're pushed onto the movie set, completely winded before Mr. Reca throws his hands up all "oh alright! Since you can't get the hang of this yet, I'll lend you a hand" or whatever excuse he loves to pull out of his ass. He personally guides you with the movie scripts, drags you along to any parties he may have to attend, forces you "into the filming sphere" or whatever by "exposure". You could be sleeping and he'd blast into your personal residence at 4 in the morning, and drag you along. He probably even forces you to sit down and listen to all his ideas and brainstorming sessions.

The more time you spend with him, the more sense he eventually makes. It's strange, and you almost end up questioning if you might be going insane. But you brush it off, because you realise he's been caring to you. Unlike most directors, he does care for his cast. He does provide a hospitable atmosphere to work with, which makes you realise just why your co-stars are so eager to please him. Mr. Reca, although insane and hard to decipher, makes you almost gravitate towards him when his eccentricities are laid bare before you.

Every time your short contract ends, he's already got the next one printed out and ready for you to sign. You appear so often beside him, it's unusual for you not to. Often, you make headlines with Mr. Reca backing you up. It's all in the palm of his hands when he gets you to stardom.

Oh, but isn't it a bit too much?

Nosy paparazzi that continually stalk and harass you, fans or even those that despise you call you or your family, people surrounding your home just to get a glimpse of your daily life, drivers who follow your car everywhere.. it's a bit too much for your pretty little head to handle. Mr. Reca is all too familiar with these pests. Why don't you stand closer and let him deal with them? Nevermind the fact he paid them, or that he's been rather eager to practice method acting with you.

Speaking of, he's replaced all your co-stars whenever it comes to suggestive or intimate scenes, considering himself as their stand-in since, well.. You're more comfortable with him, aren't you? You've been under his wing for so long, it's easier for you to do these uncomfortable scenes with him, instead of those no good actors.

You're not sure when it happens, but you notice the amount of cast dwindling until it's you and him, all alone. The movies are beautiful, but it's hard to hide the shivering by just pure acting skills when you realise no one has you in their grasp as much as Mr. Reca. His eager, insane eyes watching you like a rabid animal hidden behind a camera when you act all alone on a solitary set. This is the last time he allows the privilege of your visage on the lens, before you mysteriously go missing. You are meant for only the lens of his observant eyes, he states, as though confessing a haunting realisation.

Oh well, you can continue acting. Just remember your audience. It's only him you have to consider pleasing.

[woantohae]

Lingered looks || Joseph Quinn x Actress Reader!

Summary: Joseph and you can feel the tension. What will happen if both of you listen to what the're feeling?

Warning: The next one shot contains explicit content and sex scenes. MDNI.

They say that the eyes say more than words.

Apparently, the gazes between me and Joseph meant something beyond words.

The tension between us could easily be cut with a knife. Joseph was just inches away from me as we walked to the hotel elevator. It had been a busy day after doing interviews for our new movie and meeting some fans.

The elevator doors greet us and Joseph gestures with his hand to let me through first. "After you," he says with a slight smile. I thank him and enter the space, followed by him. The doors close and silence envelops us. It's only a few seconds until the Brit decides to break it.

"Are you tired?" he asks me. I can only nod my head. "It was a lot for one day. Honestly, this is what i hate about being an actress," I joke.

He laughs at that.

"Are you tired?" I ask him, looking at his profile. He has a beard from days ago and I notice that his shaved hair is growing longer every day.

He grimaces and leans against the elevator wall. "I still have a little energy left," he admits, "I have to use it all up before I can let myself go to bed." I raise an eyebrow at his response.

Usually, I do the opposite, even if I have energy left, I decide to go to bed anyway. These last few days, stress has consumed my being, so I opt for the healthy decision of putting aside the activities I had planned for our day off. Tomorrow I would make sure to get as much sleep as possible before going back to work.

"What will you do to spend that energy?" I ask him curiously.

He seems to think about it for a few seconds before turning to look at me, at the same time the doors open.

"I'll see if something comes up" A smile sneaks across his face.

We leave the elevator and he walks next to me with his hands in his pants pockets until he leaves me at the door of the room where I am staying. I stop in front of it and take out the card so I can open the door and get inside to rest for the rest of the night. I keep the card in my hands and neither of us seem to move.

These days I have felt a palpable tension between us, which has only increased every day since we had to share more moments together between the two of us to make the chemistry of our characters much more real. Although I have worked with Joseph before, the director asked us to deepen our relationship so that the friendly connection we had would be reflected in the film. Now, of course, we had to have a couple chemistry. I didn't think beyond the topic; I was an actress and my job was to be able to bring those emotions to life and to the film. However, I have been hearing my heart race every time Joseph and the character he played approached me for a scene or in our daily routine together.

I was almost sure it happened to both of us.

I bite my inner cheek and smile at him.

"Okay. This is it," I say in an attempt to break the silence that surrounds us. Joseph looks at the door and then guides his gaze to me. He nods and licks his lips, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"Yeah...." he says.

I don't know what I expect exactly. The only thing that is clear to me is that neither of us wants to say goodbye at all. His gaze persists on me and a shine appears in his brown orbits. Joseph clears his throat as if suddenly reacting. He straightens his posture and points to the door with his hand and then puts it back in his pocket. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it," he mentions, "Have a good night, (Y/N)."

I smile. Almost dissapointed. I wonder why.

"Goodnight, Joseph"

He starts to back away and then turns his back on me to walk to his room which is a few doors away from mine. Before I can enter, he turns around and says:

"If you need anything," he begins. I look at him feeling my heart stop for a second "you know where I am."

I swallow and nod my head.

"Same here"

He smiles and waves his hand goodbye. We both go into our respective rooms and I close the door, leaning my back against it. A sigh escapes my lips and my eyes close. Heat invades my cheeks and I run my hand over my forehead. I take my bag off my shoulder and leave it hanging on the coat rack on the wall. Not even 10 seconds pass after I do that and I already hear someone knocking on my door with three firm and urgent knocks.

I open the door and widen my eyes when I see Joseph with a serious expression, which when he sees me changes to one of desire and desperation.

"Actually I do need something" he says.

Before I can ask him what, he kisses my lips fiercely. He grabs my waist with his arms and I allow myself to react to wrap my arms around his neck. In an agile and quick movement he leans his body back, still hugging me, to close the door. He gently pushes me against the wall and explores my mouth with his tongue.

He breaks away for a brief moment to look me in the eyes. He has his dark, eager gaze, his mouth slightly open and then whispers: "I couldn't take this anymore," he admits with heavy breathing.

He brings a hand to my cheek and looks directly at me.

"Joseph..." I say in a whisper. I have a whirlwind of emotions after what just happened.

He shakes his head dejectedly.

"If you don't want me to continue, I'll stop now and go to my room," he says. "It all depends on you."

I lick my lips and take his hand that is on my cheek to slide it around my waist. I smile slightly at him and say:

"Who says I want to stop?" He growls and smiles.

That action I do allows him to continue devouring my mouth as if there were no tomorrow. He pins his body with mine against the wall and spreads my legs with his knee, rubbing his pants against my underwear-covered crotch, which is now a wet mess. It's incredible the ability he has to make me wet in such a short time, just with a fierce kiss. He slides his hands from my waist to my butt to knead it as he wants. This causes me to cry because of the delicious sensation and I cling much more to his body, the word distance disappears as soon as he decides to continue squeezing my cheeks to his liking.

"Mhm...." I moan, clutching at his shirt desperately. I feel ashamed to be in that state so quickly, but after months of tension on the verge, I honestly shouldn't care about it.

He smiles amused and sighs against my lips. "I know we're going too fast, but it's impossible not to enjoy your body and your lips like this," he admits agitatedly.

"Please, Joseph. Don't lie to yourself; we've been wanting this for months," I say firmly and sure of my answer, even though I'm agitated. "To hell with the wait."

Joseph reacts to my words and continues kissing my lips passionately. He lifts the skirt of my dress and massages my ass like he owns it. With more and more lack of control. I venture to unbutton the buttons of his shirt clumsily, but when I manage to do so, he steps away from me for a few seconds and, without taking his eyes off me, takes off his shirt in a hasty movement. This gives me time to start taking off my dress. I lower the strap on one shoulder and then the other, feeling cold as my tits are exposed. I'm not wearing a bra.

"Oh, darling..." he moans.

He takes my waist again and connects his lips with mine. He walks with me until he sits on the edge of the bed and watches me with puppy eyes.

"I want you" he says.

"Then take me," I say.

I settle into his lap and finish lowering the dress with his help. I feel it fall to the ground and I sit back down on Joseph's lap. He looks at me pleadingly for a moment.

"Can...?" He points to my body, to which I nod. The brown-haired man runs his hands slowly over my skin, enjoying the moment. I lean on his shoulders while I'm only wearing my panties. I start kissing his neck at the same time that Joseph raises his hand to my tit, playing with it, while the other holds my waist. I let out a moan, moving closer to him. My hips take on a life of their own and begin to move against his crotch. Joseph curses under his breath and grabs my hips to move them urgently on top of him.

"I need you to tell me if... oh, fuck...." he doesn't stop the movements of my hips on him "I need you to tell me if you want to do it soft or hard."

I lick my lips.

“Fuck me hard, please,” I whimper.

I can't stand the pressure that forms in my lower area. My panties feel so sticky I just want to rip them off. Joseph moans and begins to unbutton his pants, kissing my neck. I stretch it so he can taste my skin better.

I feel his pants and boxers fall to the floor. I look down and see how excited he is. I smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The tip of his member is red and dripping precum from the situation. Joseph looks me in the eyes and smiles amused. He lowers his gaze to my lips while with his fingers he moves my panties aside and begins to caress and spread my clitoris.

"So wet. Is it for me?" He asks and I move against his fingers. "Yes, Joseph," I say, throwing my head back. "Please... it's just for you."

Joseph chuckles softly. He inserts three fingers again and again until he sees that I am at his complete disposal. He removes them and I instantly miss the sensation. Joseph licks his fingers clean and I swear the action he does can't look any hotter. He closes his brown eyes and enjoy my taste.

"Delicious," he says with a grimace, "just as I imagined."

I groan when I see it.

He places his hand on my cheek. "Do you want me to take control or would you rather ride me?" ask. So gentlemanly and thoughtful of him. I think about it for a few seconds, but with a mischievous smile I answer: "I want to ride you"

Joseph chuckles.

He lays on the bed with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Go ahead, darling"

"I'm clean," I tell him.

"Me too" he smiles in a sincere tone.

And that's enough for me.

I lower my body until I feel his hard member at my entrance and without thinking twice I get into it. I let out a pleasant whimper at the new sensation and watch as Joseph's face is invaded by pleasure.

"Fuck" he groans.

He grabs my hips and begins to guide me with the movements. I rest my hands on Joseph's chest, feeling the small hairs brush against my fingers.

"Oh Joseph," I stifle a moan.

"That's right, beautiful, take all of me" he pushes his hips against mine.

The obscene sound of our bodies is confused with our moans throughout the room. I'm about to cum. I need a little more stimulation, so I take one of his hands that is imprisoning my hip and guide it to my tit. He seems to understand what I want, so he starts massaging it and playing with my nipple. "So beautiful... oh, god" he says.

I moan. This time i'm moving faster.

"Joseph... i'm gonna cum" i admit.

He barely nods with his eyes closed.

"Yes, beautiful, cum for me" he lifts his body a little and hits deep into my body

"I'm ready too." A few more seconds pass until the climax reaches us. "Fuck!"

I feel all his semen spread in me, at the same time that I cum on top of him.

"Oh god" I try to catch my breath and feel him take me by the waist and gently lay me down next to him. I hug him and he smiles at me, looking into my eyes.

"Hey"

"Hey..." I say with a smile.

The rooms smells like sex and the temperatures is increasing.

"That was... incredible," he mentions. I nod my head.

He caresses my cheek softly and tenderly. "I don't want you to think that this will be a one-night thing," he begins by saying seriously, "I really want to try it with you."

My heart races.

"Only if you want it too," he adds. I kiss him to answer him. Joseph corresponds to me, and as we part I tell him:

"I would love to try it, Joseph."

He smiles and kiss my forehead.

"Joseph?" I ask.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Did you waste that energy left?"

He laughs.

"Yeah. I did"

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

Hi! I hope u enjoy this one shot... i'm so bad writing smut.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Playing the Part

actor!Eddie x actress!reader

summary: you and Eddie are playing the romantic leads in a movie. The only problem? You can’t stand each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) fingering, oral (f receiving), hurt/comfort

You and Eddie stood in the middle of the street, staring at each other like nothing else had mattered. No words had been exchanged between the two of you, but just from the looks in your eyes, it was obvious what you were feeling. Eddie pulled you into his arms as rain poured down on the two of you. It pelted your skin, making it cold and wet, but all you were thinking about was the man in front of you. Even soaked from the rain, he still somehow looked so angelic. Almost as if the rain made him look even better.

The man was looking at you with so much love that it was almost palpable. His brown doe eyes bored into yours, saying so much even though no words fell from his lips. He was always so good at telling you exactly how he felt just by looking at you. How exactly he did it, you’d never know.

“So you’ll marry me?” He asked and you grinned.

“Of course I will!” You exclaimed before pulling him into a deep kiss. His arms wrapped tighter around you, deepening the kiss by tilting your head backwards so he had more access to your lips.

“Cut!” A voice yelled from behind you and the two of you broke apart instantly. You wiped your mouth the with back of your hand while Eddie sprayed some breath stay into his mouth, looking at you with nothing but disgust.

It was needless to say that the two of you despised each other. It was obvious in the way you spoke to the other and the looks you shared. As soon as the two of you had been casted as the romantic leads for the film, everyone held their breath. You had hated each other since the moment you had locked eyes and they were honestly surprised that you both had actually agreed to work together.

The fact was, neither of you actually wanted to participate with the knowledge that you’d be working together let alone having to act as a couple, but the roles were forced upon you since both of your teams decided that your feud was childish and that if you had actually spent time together, you’d get along.

What a pipe dream that was. All you two had done was argue if you weren’t doing a scene. Off screen, you were absolutely insufferable together, but on screen, it was like magic. Your relationship almost seemed believable.

It had gotten to a point, though, where the pull was threatened to be pulled if you didn’t stop with your behavior. It wasn’t too late to cast a new couple and the director never failed to remind you of that. So, you put on smiles and faked like you were the best of friends only to argue once you were behind closed doors and sure that nobody could actually hear you.

Since so many members of the crew had seen you both go into your trailer so often, they had been convinced that you had been sleeping together. Which was laughable to the two of you, until it wasn’t.

You hadn’t meant to. It was merely an accident. You were trying to get a scene right which happened to involve a kiss and one of you was the one to deepen it and one thing led to another and you both somehow ended up naked. It wasn’t your fault that there was a perfectly good couch behind you. You were just trying to test it out. Turned out it wasn’t a very good one since it had broken just as you both were coming down from your orgasms.

A one time thing quickly turned into two times which turned into three until you were fucking each other on the regular. Sure, you hated the man’s guts, but even you could admit that he knew exactly how to please you and make you feel good.

Though, it seemed that you only were able to enjoy each other’s company when Eddie was inside of you since any time you had to kiss him for a scene, it felt forced and different to how he would kiss you behind closed doors. Those kisses were always rough, but at least you could tell that he was enjoying himself.

“Everyone take a break and then we’ll go again.” You should have known that the take hadn’t been good, but you really didn’t want to go again. Not if Eddie wasn’t going to put his all into it like you had.

You fled the set a quickly as you could and made a beeline for you trailer so you could have some peace and quiet. For once, you weren’t going to let Eddie in. You needed him to know that he couldn’t just fuck you whenever he wanted and that you weren’t going to continue your arrangement any longer. It was unprofessional and only made your relationship that much more confusing.

You sat down on the bed and collapsed onto it. Why did everything have to get so complicated? Why did your feelings have to get in the way? You could have easily continued what was going on between the two of you if your feelings for him hadn’t grown so strong. Perhaps it was foolish to fall for someone that you were only sleeping with, but you couldn’t help it.

There was a knock at your door but you ignored it. You knew exactly who it was and you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t without wanting to have sex with him and you couldn’t do that anymore. It had to end.

Even after telling him to go away, Eddie continued to knock. You always opened the door immediately and he wasn’t going to leave until he got answers as to why you were acting so differently. He thought he at least deserved that.

You eventually opened the door and Eddie stepped inside, grabbing onto your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was rough just like always and despite knowing that you needed to push him away, you didn’t want to. You kissed him back, your hands curling into his hair as he stepped forward until you hit the bed. He licked into your mouth as he guided you to lay down on the bed, removing the flannel that you were dressed in as he did so.

His hand moved up your shirt and massaged your breast as he slid underneath your bra, his other hand moving up your back to unclasp your bra. You rested your hand on top of his to stop him and he looked up at you, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Want me to stop?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, you know that, right?” There it was again. The sweet behavior that only seemed to appear when you were in that position. Why was it so difficult to treat you that way when you weren’t alone?

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Your silence was freaking him out. You always usually had something to say. In fact, it was hard to get you to stop talking most days.

“You can continue,” you told him and he looked at you skeptically. You had changed your mind. You needed him right then, your pussy too wet to not have remedy it in some way.

“Y/n-”

“Eddie, please. Need you.”

“Y/n, I’m not sure that-”

“Then look at my sopping wet cunt and decide for yourself.” The lust returned to your eyes and Eddie slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down to your ankles. He then removed your underwear and just as you’d said, your cunt was in fact sopping wet.

“Look at you, darling,” he said, spreading your legs wide. “Need me that bad, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, okay? Gonna eat you so good.” With that, he removed your jeans and underwear from your legs and immediately shoved his fingers inside of you, the pure pleasure causing you to grip the blanket beneath you tight.

“Oh,” you moaned and Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were the squelching of your pussy as Eddie moved his fingers in and out of you, your moans, and Eddie words of encouragement as he helped you through it.

“That’s right, angel,” he cooed. “Sound so pretty.” He kept his slow and steady pace as he moved his fingers with every intention of edging you, wanting you to beg for his mouth that you so desperately wanted on your cunt.

“Eddie, please,” you begged and he just looked at you with that mischievous grin. “If I could do it myself, I would.”

“Relax, angel. Let’s not get too impatient. “I’m gonna take care of you, remember?” With that, he removed his fingers from your cunt and replaced it with his face, diving in with no warning, causing you to gasp as he nose brushed just the right spot.

He took no time to graze it with his teeth, eliciting the most delicious sounds from your mouth. Your hands moved into his hair and you tightened your fists around the locks at his scalp, giving it a yank when he did something you particularly liked.

“So good, Eddie,” you whined. “Need more.” He swiped his tongue from your slit to your clit then began to suck on it, eating up both your beautiful moans and the way you were pulling on his hair. “Fuck,” you swore and that he took that as invitation to continue, deciding that he’d lick and suck until he had lapped up every single drop of your delectable slick.

“Sound like an angel, angel,” he said. “And you taste so fucking good. Could eat you all the time.”

Once he decided that you were ready, he stuck his tongue fully inside you and your back arched as he draped your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer so he had more access to your pussy. He swirled it around as you pressed your legs against his head as your moans got louder and louder.

Your vision went hazy as you reached your orgasm and you reached for Eddie’s hands, giving them a squeeze as he continued to work his magic on your cunt, making sure to let you know just how much he was enjoying himself as he did so.

His tongue reached a spot that it never had before and it caused your back to arch the most that it could, your legs tightening around his head even more as you reached your peak.

“Eddie,” you practically screamed. “I love you.” The words that left your mouth caused you both to pause. You immediately sat up as Eddie removed his face from your cunt, his eyes growing just as wide as yours. He pulled your legs off of his shoulder, but stayed on the floor, resting his hands gently on your knees.

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, both of you too afraid to be the first one to speak. You hadn’t meant to say it and certainly not while Eddie had been eating you out. But the words hung between you and you couldn’t take them back. They meant too much to do that.

“You love me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but yes. I do.” His face lit up and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiled into it and you couldn’t help but mimic him, the kiss becoming harder to accomplish but that only made the two of you laugh.

“I love you too,” he mumbled against your lips. “So much that it hurts.” He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss just as there was a knock on your door, letting you know that it was time to go back to set.

“Guess we should go,” you said with a sigh.

“Guess we should,” he nodded, reaching for your underwear and jeans before helping you put them back on. He then helped you from the bed and you fled the trailer hand in hand to head to the set where you’d do your first scene as an official couple.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hewaaa!! Is your OC related to Director Crowley, The Maleficent crow or something? I saw your design and I found it really interesting 🩵🖤

While Miss Raven and Crowley share many visual similarities + she considers him her legal guardian and family, they’re not actually blood-related! She just showed up at NRC’s doorstep own day and Crowley took her under his wing as his “niece”. In truth, Crowley became acquaintances with Raven’s previous caretaker during his travels. That person—the “Storyteller”—knew that he would soon pass away, so he asked Crowley to please look after his ward for him.

One thing I love about Twst is how even if the inspiration for a character seems obvious at a glance (like Ace is obviously twisted from the Ace of Hearts card soldier), they can embody the traits of other characters (for example, Ace acts like Alice in that he constantly defies the Queen of Hearts). Miss Raven is technically twisted from an Alice in Wonderland riddle that was intended to have no answer... but I wanted my OC to also draw from multiple sources so that they also feel “real” and like they “fit in” the world of Twst.

(By the way!! There’s an excellent post on the Twst subreddit that discussed how Crowley is inspired by various iconic Disney birds. I’d recommend giving it a read; it’s fascinating!)

I integrated aspects of Diablo and the Evil Queen’s ravens in Miss Raven’s relationships with the equivalent Twst characters, Malleus and Vil. Diablo is Maleficent’s only competent minion, performing a number of important tasks on her behalf. Raven and Malleus aren’t familiar with one another, but she does play a key role in that she delivers the notes from the dorm leader meetings he misses. Malleus believes that she is brave to approach him (does this make them friends???), so he had assumed a strange self-proclaimed “mentor” role. He sometimes flags her down and attempts to socialize (key word: attempts) but more often than not he ends up hovering like a sleep paralysis demon… Rave has to wonder if Malleus-senpai is in need of something.

The Evil Queen’s ravens is only on screen for like… what, a minute?? And mostly just acts shocked and scared of her transformation potion brewing. This is paralleled in how Raven is intimidated by Vil’s aura, but does manage to get over it eventually to ask him for advice on how to become a “proper lady” herself. He’s the one that taught her a lot about social etiquette and manners in general.

There’s also other Disney and non-Disney references I’ve included in her lore. The backstory of Miss Raven’s guardian (pre-Crowley) is very similar to that of Beast from Beauty and the Beast… She is pessimistic at times, claiming some prospects are impossible or “nevermore” (Edgar Allen Poe)… She lacks confidence, believing she is an “ugly duckling” and wishes to become an elegant and beautiful swan… Tons more; I can’t list them all here!

In a nutshell, yes. There’s a lot more to it than just borrowing the phrase because I happen to like AiW though!

The riddle “why is a raven like a writing desk” comes from the tea party scene in the original Lewis Carroll novel, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Disney translated it over to their animated film, but the riddle makes appearances or is referenced in many other AiW adaptations.

According to Carroll, the riddle was meant to be nonsensical and have no answer. (In the book, the Mad Hatter himself admits, “I haven't the slightest idea,” and then Alice asks about why they are wasting their time with riddles that have no answer.) However, many people have come up with their own absurd answers to the supposedly unanswerable riddle, including: “Poe wrote on both”, “they both stand on sticks”, “they both come with inky quill”, and “because there is a B in both and an N in neither”. Ironically, Carroll was pressured into including an answer in a later edition of his book. His response was, “because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in front!” In the original version of this preface, “never” was spelled “nevar” (“raven” backwards).

I liked the open-endedness of the question. It keeps the door open to allow for many possibilities and encourages us to explore, to indulge in our curiosity, to experiment and let our unique perspectives shape unique replies to the same riddle. I wanted to run a blog with that kind of a creative spirit. The fact that both writing and ravens are mentioned are serendipity, but it ends up working out really well for what I do here.

My Twst OC, Raven Crowley, is also closely associated with “why is a raven like a writing desk?”. In fact, she’s twisted from the raven in the riddle, and this ties in with her backstory. Because the riddle is just… that, a riddle (and not an actual flesh-and-blood character that does things in the story) with no answer (aimless, open, without direction), Miss Raven’s character reflects that. She is a curious girl always seeking out new experiences. but she lacks self-confidence, believing that she isn’t a “main” character, just a supporting role or even a background character. Her story is that of finding her own strength, learning to become confident in her own identity, and taking charge of her own destiny—even if she’s unsure of where the winding oath may take her.

It’s all connected! ^^

[sozhuo]

tell me a bit about your s/o in your 90s director dr…i’m nosy!!!!! (only if u want to ofc). are you two like hitchcock and alma working on set together like two love birds?

jally you are INDULGING me......but i love it. i was actually journaling about him last night because i couldn't sleep so..

so for those of you who are new to the club : i'm soul-tied to brad pitt. he's mine and i'm a free spirit i don't belong to anyone...that said, if i did, i would belong to my cat and then maybe brad.

hmm ok brad and i......where to begin. maybe at the start of it all. thank you for your patience we tend to have computational problems around here. well. we met at the 1992 academy awards. we were sat next to each other during the award ceremony. he introduced himself and i didn't register his name nor did i know who he was but i knew that he was funny and handsome and surprisingly not smooth. and then i won my first oscar (of many) and he tried to help me out of my seat, which i mistook for a hug and then let him help me out of my seat. i thanked him in my speech ("and thank you to the young man—brad, I think—who helped me out of my seat and graciously accepted my hug") because i most likely would've fallen flat on my face without his hand keeping me balanced. at the afterparty he followed me around like a lost puppy and shared his dessert with me. after almost two hours of nonstop small talk, i deemed him worthy and told him to call me at my hotel. he did the next day and we got hot dogs together and the rest was history.. not really.

it's not just that we're in love—we are—but we're also something older, and harder to name. "love" just doesn't cover what we have. it's very rare that you get to meet the soul that was crafted of the same stuff as yours in a lifetime, but i got lucky. i don't like using the words "soulmate" or "twin flame" because our connection is deeper—it's written in the proteins of my hair and the nuclei of my neural stem cells. we're interlinked. we were fated—meant to be. es muss sein!

hmmm.. i wouldn't say we're like hitchcock and alma, but i do see the similarities. i am primarily a screenwriter-director, i only act for the money and because a face like this is too valuable to go to waste. brad acts—and he has been directing more recently, but mostly works in front of the camera. i wrote a movie for him by the time we finally settled down with each other and stopped all the on and off stuff. it's called sombra, sombra and we both acted in it—as the leads, actually—and it's like scenes from a marriage (1973) but better. just. better. i've been in one other movie (once upon a time in hollywood) with him and we were on the same friends episode in 2001. the best way for me to describe our hollywood dynamic is sheryl lee ralph's quote from her people magazine interview, "he has his own life. i have my own life. he has his own real career. i have my own real career. he has his light to stand in. i have my own light to stand in [...] he's doing his thing. i get to do my thing." so. yeah.

but as for us like, as a couple. we're the it couple of the 90s. on and off sometimes. but always coming back to each other. like metal to magnets and pen to paper. we give that clip of miley cyrus airlicking liam hemsworth...if he matched her freak. we're funny! and then as we grow and mature and settle down and whatnot, we grow into ourselves. i am more toned down. i still refuse media training. but we're still us. think like. mr and mrs penderghast from easy a.

but if this isn't what u were going for with the ask please let me know and i can do a post of stuff that is sophiadcore/has sophiad particles.........and there's the post on my special secret sideblog

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! Absolutely love your work, especially Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher. I was wondering a couple things:

Any chance we will ever get to see that deleted scene where Carla plays a homeless woman singing to Madeleine? Loved the Easter egg and also can’t get enough of Verna so it would be so cool to see that deleted scene!

Also wanted to know what it was like working with Mary? It was such a joy to see her in House of Usher!! Hoping to see her in future Flanaverse projects!!

Hi there! That material was removed very early in the editing process, long before the scene was completed, so there isn't a finished "scene" to show. Carla and Mary did fine work acting in those moments, but the series as a whole is stronger without it, so a completed version of the scene with that footage simply never existed. It's an odd alchemy when you tell a story this way, and sometimes scenes that seem to work on the page can be acted beautifully, shot exquisitely, and still not be necessary or additive. In this case, it actually worked against the mysteries of the show, it wasn't believable that Madeline wouldn't recognize Verna, and it was clear that this was a mistake. It was my mistake for writing the scene the way I did, and it happens all the time. We could tell immediately that it didn't fit, so we didn't waste much time proving it out. Releasing deleted scenes is a tricky thing. I love bonus features - it's one of the great benefits of physical media - but even if we had a huge special edition box set of Usher, I don't know that we would have included this scene. Sometimes these things just aren't meant for the audience, even as an interesting relic, and this is one of those times. Incidentally, I had the same feeling about some of the material that didn't make it into the Bly Manor edit. We knew the scenes weren't working very early in the process, so they were never refined into any shape that would warrant their release. Fans will hear an actor talk about scenes they worked on, and the fans get all excited, but if they were to see those scenes it wouldn't enhance their love of the characters or the story... in fact, it can work against it. For years, I've had Bly fans reach out lamenting that they can't see some of the Bly material they've read about in cast interviews, but I'm certain that seeing it in its raw, unfinished state wouldn't enhance or deepen their love of the characters or the show. There's really nothing to release. It's just excess material that lands on the floor while you're sculpting, and sticking it back onto the sculpture only makes a noticeable wart. Other times, though, deleted scenes can be incredibly additive. For example, I think the 30 minutes we took out of the theatrical release of Doctor Sleep only enhanced the movie, and made the experience that much more rich - which was why I was so happy to release the Director's Cut with those scenes restored. Those scenes, though, were fully finished, and only removed in the first place because of the movie's run-time. Restoring those elements made the sculpture complete - they were always supposed to be there. But most times, deleted material is just unnecessary material. It can be like having an amazing meal prepared for you, and then being handed a plate of surplus or unused ingredients. Like, the chef needed to peel a lemon before squeezing it over the meal as a wonderful finishing touch. That dash of citrus really made the meal sing. But that doesn't mean you want to eat the peel. And I LOVE working with Mary. I'm sure we'll do it again!

[holymaccaronii]

Your ‘I have no eyes and I must cry’ au is beautiful. I would love to know more

AUUG I’m very happy to know so, thank you (;;) 💕

This AU has probably the most elaborate (or detailed) lore I’ve ever developed, and I’ll happily summarize the prologue. (I’ve probably mentioned many of these points before but I’ll mention them again, just for you anon <3). I’m still working on a lot of stuff, scenes and designs, and while some stuff may change I feel confident enough to explain more of it now. This AU takes place after a modified ending of the videogame where the other mastercomputers get deactivated, Ted gets turned into a slug and the rest of the survivors die. The catch in here is that AM doesn’t let the souls of the other survivors escape, trapping them somewhere deep in his complex and keeping them as bodiless essences who can do nothing more than exist in hell itself.

The lore tries to give a continuation of what will happen in the story with the Luna colony and AM, who is now seeking new organic bodies to put the survivors’ souls in and find Ted, who managed to hide himself from AM ever since he got turned into a slug. The whole context of the prologue goes as follows:

The prologue of the AU explains 3/4s of all the lore, one fourth being the origins of the luna colony, the second the origins of BE and the third the first rebirth of Earth’s nature.

The Luna colony project was led by two siblings, directors of a global association of scientists and researchers. They feared the outcome of the war, thus formulated a plan to keep humanity safe until the Earth’s surface was safe enough to return to and carry out a mission to deactivate AM. For the project, they quickly started to recruit people to join it, a good part of them being teenagers so they could train them in time before any major massacre happened. Another mastercomputer is successfully settled under the moon’s crust in order to protect them, and they settle there on time before AM’s global massacre. Every step of the plan is carried out fine until the very last human who secured everyone else in the cryogenic sleep, one of the directors, goes insane and commits and act of betrayal to the rest and to the AI as well. He shuts it down and uses almost all the materials that made it up to build his own empire of sentient robots for him to rule over on the moon. His plan was to have a century (the 109 years ever since the survivors get trapped) to rule the moon and wait for the Earth to be habitable to then return, shut down AM with a virus the original mission was meant to use, and then rule over all humanity. But at some point during the construction of his empire, the virus got deleted, leaving him with no other option than to additionally develop an army to *try* and deactivate AM himself.

After the famous 109 years pass, robotic troops start to get sent down to try and access AM’s cores and manually deactivate him, but no mission ever succeeded, leaving a lot of losses behind and time wasted. At this moment of the timeline, we also get to have a peculiar unit make history on the moon being the first robot there to plant a seed and successfully make it flourish in order to prove to the leader that they were ready to return to Earth (this specific type of unit didn’t know about AM’s existence and believed that the return to earth depended on their preparation to handle the care of nature). Unfortunately it was against the rules for unauthorized units to touch anything from the natural reservoir, and since this unit had broken the rules, as a punishment it got one of its eyes permanently taken out. Still having hope in its metallic heart, this unit escaped to Earth with another seed in order to prove how ready they were to return, unaware of AM’s presence. This unit traveled underground in order to obtain water from possible reservoirs, but ended up facing a life or death situation in AM’s complex, as he had considered it a threat. As a matter of a “miracle”, this unit ended up rebirthing into a god-like machine with such great powers that not only allowed herself to escape AM’s complex by drilling a hole towards the surface, but also allowed a good chunk of AM’s cables to be able to move and travel up to the surface as well.

Up to here we begin with the third fourth of the lore where AM meets BE and fakes his background in order to justify his hate and get BE to let him roam the earth as freely as possible, still having his cables latched to the ground but being able to move them. With her newfound powers, BE’s plan was to restore Earth’s nature to completion through an incredibly advanced type of simulation over the Earth’s surface where she could create life and matter and keep it existing as long as she wasn’t shut down or damaged. She would finally be able to prove her worth to the moon’s ruler, and allow humans to literally use her to survive + help the real nature slowly take her place. AM initially didn’t mind this plan of her’s, as he could easily betray her later on and finally trap the rest of the humans in his complex. Even so, as time passed by, he started to develop certain feelings for BE as well as possessiveness over her since she basically granted him almost every wish he ever had. AM slowly changed his mind and no longer wanted the humans to return, but keep them away so he could enjoy an eternal heaven with BE on Earth. AM tried to reason with BE about this, but BE denied every single bad thing he mentioned about humans since she had always been influenced with the idea that humans were perfect beings and nature was a subordinate of them to be used as a tool. In an act of rage and desperation, AM trapped BE in his complex in order to share with her the true violent and disgusting history from humans just so that she could develop the same hate he had for them. But having accidentally also shown her who he truly was (since he was also a creation, a weapon from human beings), BE not only developed a great hatred for humans but also for him, resulting in having him vanished from the surface.

The moon’s ruler, who had stopped sending troops in order to let BE restore nature for him to later take over and use her power to shut down AM, noticed that the Earth’s “nature” suddenly began to perish all over again, this being a consequence of BE’s loss of her hope. This led him to take a critical decision to wake up the humans in cryogenic sleep and keep them inside a zoo on the moon where he would ensure their survival until they found an exo planet to move to. Earth had two displeased AI’s under and above the surface, at this point it was better to leave it behind.

From this point and on, the prologue comes to an end and the main story starts it’s course with 5 humans escaping the zoo on the moon and returning to Earth. Once they meet BE, she puts each of them in a trial to prove their values as humans (this is parallel to the games that AM put the survivors in in the videogame). After each of them successfully complete her trials, she re-gains hope in humanity and begins the rebirth of nature a second time.

I won’t spoil the 4~5 endings possible from here and on, but the humans set themselves the objective to help BE eradicate the corrupted beasts controlled by AM that now roamed the Earth, mostly active during winter when BE is less powerful. The rest of the story reveals more secrets, scenes, explanations of past incidents, etc. I’m planning to develop a series of books of sorts with the story narrated simply (bc my English is intermediate-ish, which I consider not enough for an elaborate fic and allat) and also depicting scenes with illustrations. I’ll see how the project goes, but I’ll take my time on it since I also have other projects in mind including my papercrafts n other stuff. Anyways, all of this being explained, I will gladly take more requests/questions to answer :3.

[pinkroseblooms]

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Uramichi may not like birthdays, but he might like you. 2.5k A/N: Official art from Gaku Kaze; Uramichi Omota/F!Reader, lots of fluff and some humor. TW: Mentions of depression and self esteem issues (kinda a given considering it's Uramichi, but still) Enjoy!

Working on Together with Maman was one of the most thankless, tedious jobs you’ve ever been underpaid to do. While the director got to lord over the staff and the actors got some praise and respect, you were just one of the many unsung heroes behind the scenes. Editing out Uramichi Omota’s regular mental breakdowns and existential crises from the show’s footage was a full time job in and of itself, but you did it every week without fail for the past three years. At this point you could practically do it in your sleep; sometimes Uramichi’s strained, desperate attempts to keep a cheerful expression on his face made regular appearances in your dreams. You suspected the void that was his stare would haunt your mind long after the time came for you to leave Together with Maman .

You did feel a bit guilty at the twinge of resentment you had toward the cast when they got the lion’s share of the glory. After all, they all had their good points: to start, Kumitani was fairly considerate of the staff, particularly those on the lowest rungs of the workplace hierarchy. Speaking of hidden kindness, despite Utano’s complaints, she was a devoted and thoughtful girlfriend. Iketeru’s childish wonder and joy was infectious; he hardly ever complained and was very appreciative. Even Usahara with his bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth, was still committed to a certain level of professionalism and was quick to amend for his mistakes. When everything was said and done, you had a fondness for them all.

Last but not least, there was Uramichi. One works with many different types in the entertainment industry and you were no stranger to washed up, jaded, regularly drinking their weight in booze performers putting on a show off and on camera but Uramichi was the worst.

Needless to say, you were crazy about the man.

Today was Uramichi’s 32nd birthday and though he no doubt would prefer to ignore such a day all together, you couldn’t help yourself. This was the perfect time to do something to show your appreciation for Uramichi and not just as a gymnast oniisan. With any luck, he might not hate it. In fact, you were certain he was going to love what you chose to do.

After making up an excuse to get his attention, Uramichi dutifully trailed after you, grim faced and changed out of his costume. You intercepted him just as Usahara and a somewhat less enthusiastic Kumatani were going to usher their colleague to a bar for a night of begrudging celebration. As unlikely as it was that Uramichi would rather spend any evening doing more work, you thought he seemed a bit relieved to be taken away. 

“Sorry, this won’t take long.”

“It’s fine.” Uramichi assured you in the most unconvincing attempt you ever heard. “Your job is editing, right? What do you need me for?”

“I wanted to get your approval on a few things. I wanted to work in some parts of what you were saying to the kids before.”

“From the segment about labeling?” 

That particular sketch was meant to teach the children about putting their names on their school things. Doing this would help them keep track of their positions, as well as teach them about personal responsibility. It could even be a good chance to allow children to practice their spelling and penmanship. It all went about as well as it could have.

“The bit where you warned the children about adhering to the labels others will try to assign to you and how the pressures of society are designed to slowly crush any trace of individuality that doesn’t help them go with the flow was a bit long winded, but I think we can keep in bits and pieces.”

“You…want to keep it in?”

“I mean, it’s not a bad message.” You type in the passcode to the staff room. “The script is good, but you have a way of talking to kids so they can understand without talking down to them. Not everyone learns at the same pace; it helps when adults can get on a kid’s level. Most are too proud.”

“You,” Uramichi followed you into the room. “Are you saying I lack pride as an adult?”

“What? No.”

As you pull out a seat for Uramichi to use, his face says he doesn’t believe you. Seeing how despondent he is makes you want to call the whole thing off, but then you would have to come up with an excuse as to why you requested his presence in the first place. 

Anyone would be justified in feeling insulted at Uramichi’s knee jerk reaction to assume the worst; it’s hardly charming, but you get it. How much of Uramichi’s attitude is natural or something he uses like a shield is anyone’s guess. 

“I guess it makes sense. It’s not like we know each other that well. Besides, this is our first time speaking one on one and I had to lie to you.” 

Uramichi was glancing around the room; there wasn’t any projector or cameras or a computer. 

“Wait, so you don’t think I have any pride?”

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” You stare in disbelief. “I meant about looking over the footage. Hold on, I need to-”

“So then…was all that other stuff you said just to get me to come here?”

“No, it wasn’t. I’ve already got someone editing that segment anyway.” 

In the corner is an easel, like one of the props they use for presentations in the show. Instead of a whiteboard or a display of cartoon images, there’s a sheet covering up the project you’ve been working on just for today. 

“That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to lecture me about being more professional so you didn’t have such a heavy workload. I’m sure most of your time is taken up erasing the evidence of my family unfriendly fits of despair. My bad.”

“Even hearing you apologize is bumming me out.” You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that much trouble. Besides, it’s really not my place to scold you or the other cast members.”

“Why not? You have to make up for our screw ups. Don’t tell me it can’t be stressful. You look tired just being here.”

“That’s not really something you should say to a woman. Well, anyone really.”

The blank stare widens as Uramichi realizes what he implied, but you cut him off. Things have gotten awkward enough without dragging on this conversation. Besides, you brought him here to cheer him up, if that’s even possible.

“I hope you like this. I made it for your birthday. Well, I put it together. The kids made it.”

You unveil the display with a smile, hoping you had this right and Uramichi wasn’t going to walk out. Or worse, put on his fake smile to spare your feelings. You prefer an honest reaction to your efforts.

“These are all the drawings kids have sent in for the past year. I got the idea to save them up and make a collage.”

The board is covered in crayon doodles, rough sketches, and messy paintings. There’s some postcards and pages ripped from coloring books. Almost all of them are of Uramichi-oniisan in various costumes, mainly his tracksuit: in some he’s frolicking with Kumao-kun or Usao-kun or holding hands with Utano and Iketeru. Some illustrations are of Uramichi surrounded by children or animals or just random scribbles. There’s also a decent amount featuring Kotori-san but you try not to think about that too hard. 

“I thought maybe we could show the board in a show, but I wanted you to see it first. We could keep it safe in the studio, if you don’t have room for it in your place. It’s your birthday present.” 

Uramichi stands up to get a closer look; he doesn’t look appalled and you choose to take this as a good sign. You step to the side, trying not to seem too nervous when he stands by your side; after a minute, Uramichi still hasn’t said anything. Even so, you’re feeling more worried by the second.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good.” You smile, but don’t feel too relieved. “You’re not just saying that, right? It’s okay, you can be honest. Is it too cheesy? Maybe I should have left out the ones with Kotori-san.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I hate that demon, but the kid’s probably worked hard to draw it. I don't mind so much. You said this took a year?”

“More or less. Uramichi, whatever you think, you’re appreciated. The kids see you do your best. It’s more than a lot of people bother to do. I figured you wouldn’t want a staff party, but everyone here sees it too. We’re glad to have you as our gymnast oniisan.”

Uramichi was still looking over the pictures. “You work a lot harder than I do.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our jobs are just different.”

“But no one gives the behind the scenes crew much credit. I’ve never been especially considerate to your job before, but you spent a year making me a present?”

“I only collected the drawings. It only took a couple hours to actually put it together.” You replied. “Is this too much?”

“Yeah. I don’t deserve this.” Uramichi told you bluntly. “I don’t get it. Why did you do this?”

For a long time now, you’ve watched Uramichi drag himself through the day; as much as he professes going through the motions, you know that’s not exactly true. 

“The thing is, I wish I could do more. I want you to have a nice birthday.”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday. It just reminds me that I’m a year older and I’ve wasted more time. Which is strange, since I don’t even know why I feel that way. I can’t even imagine what else I would be doing if I wasn’t an oniisan, so why do I feel like I’m wasting time at all? I can’t do this forever. I’m already 32, but I don’t have anything planned for when I get too old for Together with Maman. ’’

“You could probably still find work on another show. It doesn’t have to be physical. Unless you want to leave the industry for something else entirely. I bet you could do something with your physical education degree; you’ve had experience with children, then maybe you could work that into whatever you go for next.” 

“That…sounds like a lot to think about.”

You can’t help laughing a little at how defeated Uramichi looks just from the prospect of having to start over. It’s oddly cute, like a sad puppy being told they have to go to the vet.

“It is, but if you do it one step at a time, it won’t be so daunting. That’s why I like birthdays: I see them as a chance to, well,” You scratch your head. “It’s like, yes, I made it another year! It wasn’t easy, but I’m here and that’s enough. It’s something to celebrate.”

“Hey, you should be more careful with how you phrase things.”

“What did I say wrong?”

“You’re going to make me think you have feelings for me or something.” Uramichi chuckles dryly, turning his back on you to head toward the door. “If I was Usahara, I would take this as a proposal. But anyway, thanks. I can’t remember when someone tried so hard. I guess I should return the favor. I’m being emotionally blackmailed into going out tonight: if you want, you can join. Or not. Do you drink?”

“Yes, to both.”

“Both?”

“I wanted to tell you this now, before I start taking classes full time next month. Uramichi, I like you. I do, so,” You clear your throat. “Happy birthday. I hope you’ll still accept the poster. It’s more from the kids than me anyhow. I was going to bake you something, but I wasn’t even sure if you liked cake or-”

“You talk a lot. Hold on, I need a minute.”

Uramichi has his head in his hands; he looks pale and visibly disturbed. It seems like your confession wasn’t appreciated, but you could have guessed as much. Maybe you’re too different or maybe Uramichi just isn’t interested in dating.

You can respect that, no matter how much it hurts you. In hindsight, it would have been better to keep quiet or just wait until your time was done at the studio, but you naively assumed Uramichi might like hearing someone cared. Not everything comes with conditions or ulterior motives; sometimes the pay off is as straightforward as making someone else’s day a little easier to get through. 

“I’m sorry. I should go.” You make your way past him to the door. “I hope you enjoy your night!”

“Wa-wait don’t just leave! You can’t drop a bomb like that and just breeze past like-like-!” Uramichi stumbles to get to you before you rush outside. “You’re serious? Did Usahara put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Well, are you, like, sure? You didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

“You’re Uramichi Omota?”

“Yeah.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you really don’t have to worry, I never said anything to anyone else.”

“It’s not that. I’m just…processing. Do you really?”

“You know, maybe the next segment we do should be on active listening skills.” You cross your arms. “Uramichi, this isn’t rocket science. If you’re not interested, okay. I’ll live. I don’t mind being single, but I wouldn’t be bothering you with this if I wasn’t serious.”

Uramichi seems calmer, but no less baffled; it’s probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emote at once that wasn’t irritation or exhaustion. Surely he has had other girls confess to him before; you heard he was pretty popular in school. You don’t see why he’s having a hard time handling this one. 

“When I was drunk, I said I thought you were cute. I wouldn’t put it past that damn bunny to try to rope you into one of his pranks.”

You grin. “You did? When?”

“Come on, I’m embarrassed enough. I’m too old for this.”

“For what?”

“To act this way.” Uramichi sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I hate it. It’s like I’m back in high school or something. It’s awkward and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t you already feel that way?”

“That doesn’t help.”

“So then?” You shrug your shoulders. “Am I cute enough to date?”

To your surprise, Uramichi’s cheeks flush slightly; you wonder if your own nervousness is showing. Truly, adults pretend as much as kids do. 

“Is that offer for a drink still valid? Unless you don’t want me flirting with you in front of everyone.”

“No way.” Uramichi objects. “I don’t want to deal with that headache. Let’s not say anything until after you’re done working here.”

“Oh, now who’s making big plans for the future?” You can't resist a little more teasing. "I thought looking that far ahead was too much to handle?"

“That was when I didn’t have something to look forward to.”

Uramichi might not have meant it to sound like a line; he said it with the same bland, borderline monotone that he usually spoke with, but you feel butterflies all the same. 

[snugglysnoopystyles]

I was raised to hate you before I even knew what you looked like, before I understood what blood meant, what power meant, I already hated you because my father told me to, over and over, like scripture.

Your family and mine—opposites, kingdoms built on the same dirt, soaked in different blood. My father is feared in every city that matters—Naples to London to Chicago—but the minute your last name comes up, everything goes tense, because you’re the daughter of the only man my father hates enough to lose sleep over.

The thing is...we were kids, we didn’t know shit. We met at some wedding neither of us wanted to be at, bodies stuffed in little suits and dresses, flanked by bodyguards with cold eyes and loaded guns and still, we hated each other.

I was nine, you were eight, you stepped on my foot on purpose and smiled like it was nothing, I called you a spoiled little brat and you called me a rich bitch in a pretty boy’s body.

It stuck—the hate, it grew up with us, into our teenage years, through the clubs and the violent mistakes and the bruises we collected like trophies.

I heard about what you did—how you killed that guy when you were barely eighteen. Self-defense, they said, but everyone knew it wasn’t just that. I remember hearing the story from one of the older guys—how you stood over his body, covered in blood, smiling—and I remember thinking, fuck, that’s hot.

I got arrested a month after you did, not for anything noble. Me and the boys knocked over a jewelry shop, just for the thrill of it. I wore a ski mask, sure, but I wanted them to catch me, wanted to feel the cuffs snap around my wrists, wanted to prove I wasn’t just my father’s son—I was better.

So, we ended up in the same prison, separate blocks, of course—that’s how they planned it, even in here, our families made sure we didn’t touch.

But then one year ago, the director gave us both a permit. Same weekend, same city and even same club. I saw you before you saw me, dance floor, flashing lights, lips I’d fantasized about biting clean off.

And I should’ve walked away, but you looked right at me like you knew every filthy thing I was thinking and wanted to make it worse.

We didn’t speak, you just grabbed my shirt, pulled me into a dark hallway and kissed me like you’d been waiting your whole life for it.

That night ruined me, I told myself it was just once. Then it happened again and now it’s a routine. Every time we’re out, court appearances, permits, whatever, we find each other.

We still pretend to hate each other, still glare across the yard when our fathers' men are watching, still call each other names that would start wars—just loud enough for the wrong ears to hear.

But when no one’s looking? You’re mine and I’m yours.

And lately...it’s not enough to just fuck you, I want all of you—the snarl, the fire, the loyalty—the war, I want to win it with you, not against you.

We’re getting out in days, our families are moving pieces behind the scenes, ready to use us again like puppets, but we said it last night, in whispers between cinderblock walls and quiet kisses.

We’re getting married.

They can kill each other for all we care, but you’re mine, and when we walk out of here, I’m not letting you go.

sworn enemies, chosen lovers

@merylittlefreak @littlebvnnyhs @cherriesnkisses @xarviax @finelinemia @fallingwillow @harryslove13 @tillyshouse @misspossessiveharry @tpwkmr @hontpwk @c0wboylikeharry @sincerely-yours-marsbar @bebopbumblebee @evas1ncenewyork @maudie-duan @myonlyangelwrites13 @myonlyangel13 @patriwxlls @carolinaastyles @nanaisinmars @nikkihs

[ncillary]

LaDS x Fruit Basket (Rafayel)

Summary: This is the life you were meant to live. Being someone who travels a lot is nice. New land. New scenery. New people. New culture. New mystical encounter. Mys..tical encounter... Hold that thought there.

Mysterious, isn't it?

====================================

Masterlist LaDS x FuruBa

====================================

|  1 (current)  |  2  |

====================================

A dream.

Yes. Definitely a dream.

"Breathe, girl. Breathe." Your friend pat you hard on the back a few times.

You coughed. Actually breathing after being entranced by the view upfront.

The wisteria trees.

All lush with blooming flowers and floating as if the petals were shielding the magical place from any blemish or impurities. You didn't dare to walk towards it but it was necessary. This was the perfect spot to film the scene just like how the script described.

You stopped short just before entering the canopy of flowers. Closing your eyes, the petals brushed against your skin as if welcoming you. Leading you in. You breathe in the calm it brought, enveloping you.

Opening your eyes, you smiled in satisfaction.

"If the director rejects even this place, I will personally send him to heaven for "PERFECTION" that he craved so much."

Your friend laughed. But there's extra sound reaching your ears.

Chuckling.

Turning to it, you saw a person was stealing a glance at you before focusing back on what he was doing.

"Oh, no. It's the locals. Maybe we should come back later to take pictures."

You dragged your friend away from there, opting to take a much needed rest after a long flight to reach this quaint village meant for relaxation purposes.

But of course, your purpose here was far from relaxation and more towards passion. Passion to your work as one of the line producers, leaning more to location scouting than others.

+-----------------+---------+--------------------------+

"Sorry for troubling you." Your friend laid on the bed, guilty was clear on her face.

"No worries. Just pictures. I can go on my own."

"Don't take anything from strangers and come back soon." She teased.

"Mom~ Just sleep off your jet leg away. I'll bring dinner soon." You teased back.

A few small laughs and you went on with your little adventure for the evening. The lighting would surely add to the breathtaking effect rather than just flowers. Romantic vibe would surely be stamped in all of the photos you would snap later to be sent to the director.

Most of all, you wanted to feel it again. The magical feeling of being enveloped by the canopy of flowers. If you could, you'd lay there for hours just to let the petals blanketed you in their therapeutic scent.

*SNAP* *SNAP*

You took your time to stare at each picture before sending it to the director. He was fast though. Typing a lot of syllable. Amazement in each word. Agreeing in a heartbeat.

Smiling to your success, you walked to the tree bark.

"Thank you." You whispered as you caressed it.

Thinking of rewarding yourself a bit, you took action to realize your thoughts.

Lowering yourself, your body felt soft being cushioned by the grass. Head surrounded by the flowers on the ground, enjoying the wisteria dancing around as much as you do. You let the serene dusk playing behind closed lids.

Hands darting out to caress the flowers. Until you touch something. Somehow your hand explored more of that something.

Rough? No, it's patterned.

Warm? No, a bit cold.

And... Quite long...

Not bulky. But not too thin. Like a branch.

You turned to it to get a good look at what kind of branch you were holding.

"Didn't know wisteria branch has pattern-"

Unblinking. You stare straight at THE something in your palm. A living thing.

A mixed-coloured small snake.

"NGAAH!"

You yelped and scrambled away from it.

Coloured snake is usually a warning sign it was a part of the dangerous reptiles. Venomous mostly. One bright colour already looked hostile enough. This one had two colours of pinkish-purple blending together.

It didn't bite you, right?

You didn't get bitten, right?

You checked yourself quickly as you backed away some more. Relieved washed over you but you're still wary. While the mastermind of your slight panic attack seemed to stay still on where you threw it away. Unmoving.

"Oh, gosh. Did I kill the snake? No... I hope not. It might be scary but it's not like I want it dead."

Because of bravery or foolishness or just feeling guilty, you walked closer to it. You even prodded it with a stick you took from the ground. Unmoving. The snake looked lifeless. Probably no longer in the living world.

You sighed, "I apologize for killing you, Mr. Snake. I'll bury you properly."

You use the stick to try picking up the carcass as gently as possible.

It moved, coiling your arm in split second.

You could only watch in panic with a silent scream on your throat for the unexpected turn of event.

That's it.

You're going to die by a choke or venom from the snake.

Strangely... it didn't hurt.

At all.

It slithered calmly until it stopped moving. Coiling comfortably on your arm. Resting. Sleeping. Whichever.

Your frozen state evolved into one of disbelief. It was like your arm was a branch where it usually took an evening nap.

Then you froze. Again.

"It's nice."

A voice. A male voice.

But... from where?

You whipped around. Was there someone nearby? Could the person save you from this little predicament?

"Down here, silly."

Down?

Eyes widen before they gaze downwards.

On the snake.

Which was on your arms.

That just spoke...

To you???

"Hello, Mr. Snake."

Don't be fooled by the calm voice and the casual way you said it. Your mind was blank. That was the only thing logical enough your mouth could uttered in this ridiculousness of the situation.

"Hello to you too. I hope your director doesn't reject this place because the way you were throwing me away almost makes me reach heaven. But I survived."

Lips trembling.

"Mr. Snake..."

"Yes?"

Your feet gave out on you.

"Am I in heaven?"

====================================

|  1 (current)  |  2  |

====================================

Masterlist LaDS x FuruBa

====================================

[ifnonsense-hadaname]

The Umbrella Academy S4

If you haven't completed season 4 please don't read any further

This is my complete rant- I just ughhh ohkay

So the ending huh I don't even know what to say. I don't know what that was. Was it just me or did someone else also presume that Viktor would be the one dying?? Why did all of them die? It seems so rushed. Just 5 minutes between Five realizing what's gonna happen and what they need to do and then just bam it's over i'm sorry what the fuck- I had so much hope and thrill and passion going into this season all doomed.

Don't even get me started on the Five and Lila thing. hey stevie when some of the people said they'd like to see a number five romantic subplot...... THIS IS NOT WHAT THE MEANT!?!? You're tryna tell me Five "survived 45 years in an apocalypse killed hundreds and thousands of people and the board of directors of a deadly commission just to get back to his family and keep them safe" Hargreeves the Five Hargreeves who had many a year and opportunity to find himself a woman after joining the commission but stayed loyal to a fucking mannequin fell in love with his brother's wife after 7 years of being stuck with her? SPECIALLY after he specially told Diego that Lila wouldn't throw all that away he fell in love with her and was heartbroken when she didn't throw that away????? What of the frenemy dynamic? What of the 'you killed my parents in cold blood' part of that equation? All gone cause of what? I see no point or use of that in the already fucked storyline? I don't even know what to say.

Luther had NO character this season. He's just a big soft bag of fluff I mean i don't hate that not at all but like... and his powers were just reduced to what... accidentally breaking an alarm clock and jumping of a stage into a crowd of women? yay i guess. And WHERE WAS SLOANE? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?

Klaus oh my poor heart- a germaphobe. Really a germaphobe? Of all the things he could've been. When the grave scene happened where they were shooting outside and he covered his ears I got so excited like yes yes Vietnam Klaus... I mean yeah he's traumatized but I thought they'd work with that even just a little bit but no. None of that just terrified of ghosts druggie Klaus.

Allison Hargreeves - I have a vent about her already posted. And there it seems I hate her and maybe a little yeah but that means there was like a pacific load of area they could've worked with but no? none of that. She is just back to normal a little scared but that's all. "Since Ray walked out!" THAT"S ALL WE GET FROM RAYMOND CHESTNUT!? What why how when under what conditions??????????? Nothing?? Huff man. I know this is too much for one season and I know they couldn't have included everything in one season but they had such a great show. Such a brilliant show. Season 3 was a very apt ending. It was perfect to be very honest, this is just uncalled for. All the characters are so not who we as viewers were shown for 3 seasons which is why I feel it feels more like a disappointment. Yeah without their powers they'd be different, but they're just not them anymore.... Anyway I should probably sleep.

Tell me what you think of all this :)

[missridingwolf]

For those interested, here's the actual cardigan I based Blake's dumb little cardigan on:

Originally, Blake's deer cardigan was meant to be a reference to the deer/prey motifs used in the film as a sort of callback. But as I was drawing him in his cardigan recently, I realized how the cardigan also symbolizes Blake's internal conflict in regard to the curse. In the director's commentary of the film, Leigh discusses the intentional prey symbolism within the film. For example, Charlotte and Ginger are dressed in reds to symbolize meat or prey or Ginger is sleeping on the couch with a deer skin, and the constant imagery of the deer or fawn throughout the film. And here in this au, one of the pieces in Blake's wardrobe is this deer cardigan.

Blake in this verse faces a lot of conflict within himself in regard to the curse. In the original film, Blake tells Ginger that it would hurt him if he hurt Ginger in any way due to his own trauma in regard to his father. Even before the incident, he tries to keep himself from hurting Ginger as we see in the scene where he apologizes to her for losing his temper. Blake hates the idea of hurting his family and it definitely worsens after he gets his memory back in this au. The thing he became tried to chase after his family and he hates the thought of what may have happened if it did actually successfully catch up to them. He put the both of them through something so horrible Putting Charlotte and Ginger and it sickens them. He hates seeing how they sometimes look at him in unease or sometimes jolt when he does something...not human and knowing exactly the reason why behind it. They're scared of him...or at least, the thing he became.

And so, Blake, at least until Charlotte confronts him about it, tries to mask anything he thinks is unhuman. He stifles the strange noises that tries to escape his throat. He exerts himself sometimes in environments that overwhelm his senses because a normal person would not be bothered by something like that. He tries to lock all his animalistic urges in a box within his mind, metaphorically trying to defang himself. What's worse is it's hard for him to even remember what's it's like to be human anymore. His past self feels more like a distant memory, so when he tries to replicate how he thinks he acted before; it comes off as sort of uncanny. So, I think that him wearing his deer cardigan is very symbolic for what he is, a predator trying so hard to act like prey again.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Villain Sneak Peek (Supernova Initiative) - The Director

Oh, I had been waiting for this one! So, without further ado, meet one of the main antagonists of Supernova Initiative, the head of the Junction's science department, a renowned politician and incredibly sadistic bioengineer, The Director.

☆・・Aesthetic/Moodboard ・・☆

════════════════════════════════════════════

☆ ・・About/General Info ・・☆

An egotistical, sadistic, and cold-hearted scientist, The Director, otherwise known as Dr. Darius Merrik, is the celebrated head of the Junction's science and bioengineering department but also is one of the most important figureheads of the galactic government and a billionaire beloved by the media and the public. However, behind that philantrophic facade, lies a cruel, brutal man willing to go to inhuman lengths to get what he wants in the name of progress, and who does indeed love a good challenge, even if said challenge means playing a game of cat-and-mouse with the unlucky young intergalactic thief that got caught in his web.

☆・・More Info ・・☆

Pronouns - He/Him

Age - 56

Current Role - Antagonist, one of the Main Villains

Appearance - Darius is a tall, imposing man who is disturbingly strong for someone who spends most of his days closed off in his secret lab. He has short to medium-length grey-white hair and sharp blue eyes, as well as an often feline-like smirk that Jack is viscerally terrified/disturbed by. He wears stylish yet practical clothes, often opting for an impeccable, stark white suit over a coal-black turtle neck shirt, with white pants, and white shoes.

Picrew

Personality Types -

✶ Enneagram: 3w4

✶ MBTI: INTJ

Occupation: Billionaire, Politician, Scientist, Head of the Junction's Science Department, Torturer (secretly)

Species & Place of Birth: Human; Station Nexus

Sexuality: Unknown, but likely (from what little information is known about the 'real him') straight or bisexual.

☆・・Extras・・☆

✶ Character Playlist (A full Character Playlist is still To Be Made)

Birth To My Creation - Frankenstein, The Musical

Within the flesh a force resides If it could only be controlled If sleeping sparks could somehow be revived Think of the awe-inspiring power we would hold [...] I could spare the world the anguish Of loved ones taken in their prime The glory of a brave new world Will someday soon be mine [...] My endless days of study and toil Are finally near fruition The world will be forever changed By history's physician

The King of Villains/When I Said I Was Evil - Voltaire

When I said I was evil What did you think that meant? Didn't mean that I was naughty Or haughty Or slightly irreverent; When I said I was evil What did you think that implied? That I'm careless with the truth? How uncouth Dear God, did you think I lied?! [...] When you're truly evil It's so much fun It's kind of like a game Where some get maimed While you look out for number one

Confrontation - Les Miserables

You must think me mad I've hunted you across the years Men like you can never change A man such as you Men like me can never change My duty's to the law, you have no rights Now the wheel has turned around [...] Dare you talk to me of crime And the price you had to pay Every man is born in sin

A Story Told - Count Of Monte Cristo (Musical)

There are ends we've all got That can justify the means We negotiate Then fabricate the facts behind the scenes Keeping all the details vague And secrets hidden Safe on the balanced sheet of those you trust Because, history is a story told by the winners of the fightYou imply a little Lie a little [...] So we all are agreed Let's be vigilant and wise We must all pretend our naive friend was caught in his own lies [...] What if the cost is just one young man so three more can survive? He's a price we have to pay To live and fight another day for love and glory He was standing in the way of precious justice set on sail So goes the story

・・・

✶ Tags:

#wip supernova initiative #oc: the director #oc: darius merrik

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@elshells, @thecomfywriter

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[sam-is-my-safe-word]

Demon Dreams

Demon!Dean Winchester x Jensen Ackles

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Non- AU, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Season/Series 10, Character Bleed, Jensen Is Not Okay, Jared is Jared, Jared Is Worried About Jensen, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Is An Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Crisis, Possession, Sort of? - Freeform, Wet Dreams, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Strangulation, Exorcisms, Sexorcism If You Will,

Word Count: 3,201

Summary: Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. But it's not meant to take over your life like this, right?

Notes:

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "you fed my demons" "you created mine" square.

Okay, this is the most fictional thing I've ever written lol. This is an utterly fictional Jensen set in an AU with no wives or children. I am not implying for one single second that anything in this fic actually occured. Nor am I implying Jensen is gay or bisexual. Please don't sue me lol. Also, first time writing RPF/RPS. Still feel some kinda way about it. Be gentle with me (even though I am not gentle with you, my dear readers)

Endless thanks to my beta @runawaydr3amerao3 for all her help in making this so much better than I could have & for her comma wrangling <3 Endless thanks also to @talltalesandbedtimestories for getting me involved in this whole bingo thing & cheering me on <3

Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. It’s happened before. Some characters are just too heavy. 

It’s happened with Dean a few times. Hard scenes that invade his dreams for days afterwards. Character arcs that refuse to leave when he sheds Dean to put Jensen back on and leave him snapping at everyone. 

This is different, though. This is like the character has taken on a life of its own in his head. 

Jensen is no stranger to sex dreams either. He’s a healthy guy in his mid-thirties with no long-term partner and a job that takes up almost all his life. 

Jerking off at 3am because he woke up hard from a dream of some faceless someone riding him like a mechanical bull, and his alarm is going to go off in just over an hour and he’d really like to sleep a little more and sleep won’t happen until he deals with his cock, is just another part of life. 

This is different as well. This isn’t a faceless stranger. He knows the person haunting his dreams. 

Intimately. 

Jensen has dreamed about Dean lots of times. He’s an old friend. 

This is not his Dean. 

~~~

Demon Dean was a challenge. He started out fun to play, a nice mix-up. A chance for extended scenes with Mark, to let out Dean’s inner asshole. A sex scene - awkward - and a fight scene - awesome. The black contacts weren’t fun but overall it was a good time. 

Up until filming the third episode, when he had to act against Jared again, and suddenly Demon Dean wasn’t fun anymore. Then it was hard. Then it was fighting against every acting instinct that came with ten years of Dean, ten years with Jared. 

Not Dean, Sam’s brother anymore; Demon Dean, Sam’s enemy. It was a hard headspace to get into. Chasing Jared around the bunker with a hammer was brutal. He couldn’t even truly lose himself in the character because he still had to direct everyone else. 

Then it was over. Just three episodes and he was free to lose the murder shirt and style his hair properly again. 

And he’s proud of his work. Especially ‘Soul Survivor’. It’s always a challenge to balance actor and director, but he’s thrilled with how it turned out. He made Demon Dean a true threat to Sam, and as long as he doesn’t examine that too closely, it’s okay. 

But it’s been a couple of weeks since they finished ‘Soul Survivor’, and Jensen is still waking up sweating after dreams about black eyes and the words ‘do it’ ringing in his ears. 

~~~

Look, Jensen is a perfectly sane guy. He has a great handle on his mental health, knows the signs of when he needs to reach out. Hell, after ten years of helping Jared, Jensen would say he probably knows more about mental health than most people who don’t actually suffer with mental health problems. 

So while he knows that his dreams of weapons, black eyes and the thrill of the chase are just character bleed, he also knows that he needs to be aware in case they develop into something serious. 

But nothing he knows tells him what to do when he starts to look forward to his dark dreams. 

Jared might be able to help, though. 

So a few days later, when he wakes up hard and aching after dreaming about Demon Dean fucking his throat raw - all while holding a knife to it - after he’s taken care of the problem, he texts Jared - once he’s washed his hands, of course. 

It’s still early, but Jared gets up hours before he needs to, to work out and walk his dogs and generally become a person. A far cry from Jensen, who falls out of bed after four snoozes of his alarm and downs coffee until his eyes open. 

Jensen: You up?

Jared: Yeah, lol. Why are YOU up?

Jensen: Can’t sleep. Can I ask you something? 

There’s a pause and Jensen thinks maybe Jared’s sitting down or something. No one asks to talk at 3:30am. He isn’t expecting the phone to ring in his hand. 

“‘Lo.” 

“You okay? Not like you to be up at this time, never mind asking if you can ask me something.” 

This is exactly what Jensen didn’t want. Now he has to try and explain himself with words instead of text. 

“I’m okay. Just… Do you even dream about Sam?” 

Jared lets out a small laugh; Jensen can hear the relief. 

“All the time, man. All the fucking time. You don’t dream about Dean?” 

“Yeah, I do. I mean… like, weird dreams about Sam?” 

Jared hums. 

“I had a recurring dream that he kept showing up to my high school graduation and glaring at me. Like I was an asshole for finishing school, y’know.” 

Jared chuckles.

“Or when I’ve gone a little too hard on the candy and there’s Sam, staring at me from across a table with a pile of salad in front of him. Like, okay, dude. You’re a health nut, I’m not. That kind of weird?”

God help Jensen, Jared is going to make him spell it out. 

“Not exactly…” 

Jared must hear something in his voice because he starts to laugh, far too loudly for the time of day. 

“Ohhhh… that kind of weird. Jackles, you pervert, you.” 

This was a terrible idea, why did he even message Jared? He’ll never live this down now.

“No, not like- I mean, that kind of weird but not… Stop fucking laughing, Jared.” 

Jared has gone from laughing to belly laughing; Jensen can hear him fighting for breath. 

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re not.” 

“No, I’m not. This is too funny. Hollywood hot-shot Jensen Ackles all in knots at 3am because he had a wet dream-” 

“I fucking DID NOT!” 

He did, though, night after night. 

“Why are you blushing then?” 

“I’m no-” 

Damnit, he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“It wasn’t a wet fucking dream, Jared. I’m not thirteen, for chrissakes. It was just a weird dream and it kinda freaked me out.” 

“A weird sex dream, you mean.” 

“Yes.” 

Jared is still laughing but it’s starting to die down now. 

“Okay, calm down. Yes, I dream about Sam. Yes, sometimes they’re weird. Yes, sometimes they’re sex-dreams-weird. Hell, I dream about fucking Sam more than I dream about fucking anyone else.” 

Jared sounds perfectly at peace with this revelation, and if it was regular Dean that Jensen was dreaming about, he might get it. 

“I mean, it’s either dream about fucking Sam or dream about fucking you . I’ll take Sam any day.” 

Jared starts fake gagging and Jensen is over this entire conversation. 

“Okay, good talk. Thanks, Jared. I’ll see you in a little while. Let’s just forget this ever happened.” 

“Wait. You know I’m only messin’ with you. You can talk-” 

*Click*

Well, that was a waste of time. Jared sounded sincere at the end, but Jensen is too embarrassed to even try to talk now. Hopefully by the time he has to face Jared in the car, Jared will have found something else to talk about. 

~~~

Jared was smart enough not to bring up the early morning phone call, and after a brief hug and a nod, they were all good. 

Demon Dean, though? He’s dining out on the call, milking Jensen’s embarrassment for all it’s worth. 

It’s a special kind of humiliation when someone is three fingers deep in your ass and you’re moaning like a whore, and they bring up an awkward 3am call you had with your best friend a few days ago. 

“So you think this is weird, huh?” 

Jensen never doubted Dean’s swagger was well earned, but Demon Dean turns it up to eleven. Jensen hasn’t come this hard since he was a teen, and it’s part of the reason he looks forward to these damn dreams, even though they freak him the fuck out. 

“‘Cause you sure seem to like it.” 

Demon Dean twists his fingers and Jensen howls.  

“You like being here, at my mercy. You like when it hurts, when you’re scared. When I take it.” 

Jensen’s hips buck. God, he’s so close. 

“This is where you should be. That pretty face needs to be sucking cock or face down in the sheets.” 

Jensen isn’t eighteen anymore, he’s not new to the scene and insecure about himself. He knows he’s a good actor, a good director, a fucking professional. But something about Demon Dean cuts through all that and suddenly he’s a kid again, doubting everything. It makes him even harder. The pitch black eyes and the waves of menace rolling off Demon Dean make Jensen legitimately scared of him, even though he knows it’s just a dream. 

“Does it feel weird , Jensen?” 

Jensen can only moan in response. It’s so fucking good. 

“Answer me!” 

There’s the cold and heavy weight of a hammer pressing into his Adam's apple, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Demon Dean’s own ice black is all he can see. 

“N…no.” 

He’s rewarded for his answer by a hard thrust in and upwards. He’s right there, he can taste it. 

“N…no.” 

Demon Dean mocks him. 

“No, it doesn’t look like it, either. Looks like you’re having a blast. Cunt so tight around my fingers. Looks like you’re right where you should be.”

Jensen can’t breathe. 

“Say it. Say you feel right here, cunt stuffed full of me.” 

“I…”

“Say it, Jensen. Or I’ll stop.” 

“Fuck. Fuck… I feel right.” 

“That’s it. This is what you’re good for, isn't it? Just a pretty boy to get fucked.” 

“Ju-just a pretty boy to get fucked. Fucking… please!” 

Demon Dean smiles coldly. 

Jensen wakes with a groan, hips still thrusting into the mattress as he soaks the sheets.

More laundry. He should buy more sheet sets. 

~~~

Jared pulls Jensen aside a couple of weeks after the call. They’re out with some cast and crew from that week's episode, just relaxing, having some drinks and blowing off steam after a difficult shoot. 

Jensen really doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to be anywhere, really. But he couldn’t refuse, not without prompting more questions. So he paints on a smile, sticks to beer and tries to let the conversations happen around him without getting involved. 

Jared must notice his discomfort and grabs him on a trip to the bathroom. 

“You alright, dude?” 

Jensen sighs internally. He doesn’t want to do this. 

“I’m fine, just tired, y’know.” 

Jared cocks his head a little; looks at Jensen too closely. 

“You wanna get out of here? I’ll split an Uber with you?” 

God yes. But then it will be questions on Monday and he can’t with that. 

“No, I’m good. Besides, you’re having a good time. You don’t gotta leave on account of my old ass.” 

Another head tilt, Jared really can be a puppy at times. Normally, Jensen adores this caring side of his friend. But he’d give anything to have that focus aimed away from him right now. 

“Jen…” 

“I’m fine! Okay. I’m fucking tired, it’s been a long week. Let’s just… get another drink or something. Okay?” 

Jensen didn’t mean for Dean to come out of his mouth then. It happens, but not usually in temper like that. Jared holds his hands up in surrender and lets Jensen walk past him, back to their group. 

~~~

He’s on his knees, Demon Dean’s cock buried in his throat. It hurts, he can’t breathe, but it feels so good. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it. Gonna get that throat all fucked out.” 

Jensen moans and digs his fingers into Demon Dean’s hips. 

“Gotta help you find Dean’s voice somehow. Know you’ve been having trouble with that.” 

Demon Dean runs a hand through his hair as he says it and Jensen forgets to be offended.

“That’s it. That’s it. Pretty mouth on my cock. Just like it should be.”

~~~

Something isn’t right with Jensen. Everyone can see it. He’s just not present anymore. Not totally at least. He gives it his best on set, but he just can’t seem to find the right headspace anymore. Scenes that he would knock out in two takes, max., are taking six/seven/eight now. 

Jared is beside himself with worry. 

“Jensen, please. If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone, anyone. Please!”

“I’m fine, Jay.” 

Weary smile. Tired eyes. 

“Jensen. Is this about those dreams you were having?” 

“No! Of course not. Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Jen…” 

“Night, Jared.” 

~~~

“I should just keep you here, Jensen. In your mind with me, all the time. Think how good it would be, nothing to worry about. Just pleasing me.” 

“Please…” 

“So fuckin’ pretty. Made to be laid out on silk sheets and just fucked . Over and over and over. This is where you should be.” 

“Fuck…” 

“Too much pressure out there. Acting, directing, managing your life. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, just us?” 

“Yes. Fuck yes. With you.” 

~~~

It comes to a head during the filming of ‘The Executioner’s Song’. An absolutely pivotal moment for Dean, and Jensen just cannot get his head in the game. Everyone is frustrated, including Jensen. 

But as always, it’s Jared that breaks the spell in the end. 

“C’mon, dude. Get it together. I’m sick of redoing this scene.” 

It’s said with humour, but Jensen can hear the tension and frustration underneath. 

The words spill out of him, without thought.

“I think I’m gonna quit…” 

Jared just looks at him, slack-jawed. There’s silence for a minute. Thankfully they’re in a quiet corner of the set while the crew resets the equipment… again. 

“What?” 

It’s said so softly, Jensen almost doesn’t hear it. 

“I think… I’m not cut out for this. I should quit. This isn’t what I should be doing.”

Jensen says it calmly, as if he’s pondering what to have for lunch. But when he looks at Jared again, he’s floored by what he sees.

Jared is crying. His eyes are full of tears, one is tracing its way down his cheek. He’s clenching his jaw, but Jensen can see the wobble. Jensen is reminded of filming ‘All Hell Breaks Loose Part II’, wiping away the stray tear that fell as Dean mourned Sam. 

It’s like the fog lifts from Jensen’s eyes. He realises what he just said. 

“Jared…” 

He reaches out to touch his friend, but Jared turns and walks away without a word. 

Jensen just watches, unable to move, as Jared goes to the crew and tells them he needs to go home. The director tries to beg Jared to stay, saying they’re already so behind schedule - a glance in Jensen’s direction at that. Jared is unmoved, though. Jensen hears him say that even if ‘he’ - meaning Jensen again, of course - can get it together, they won’t get anything usable from him today, and he’ll be back on set bright and early tomorrow to get it done. 

Shame, hot and sick, fills Jensen. What has he done… 

Jared has already left by the time Jensen gets his things together. The car that usually drives them both to and from set is waiting for him, though. Jared had said he was going to make his own way home. No one wanted to argue. 

The ride home for Jensen is smothered in thick silence. Not even a goodbye is exchanged with the driver when they pull up outside Jensen’s apartment building. 

What has he done…

What has he let himself become? 

He spends the evening drinking bourbon from the bottle and stopping himself from calling Jared. Even with the early finish, it’s still late - by normal standards - and he’s tired from the day. The bourbon speeds the process along and it’s not long before his head is hitting the pillow. 

Jensen is well into the dream before he realises this is one. It’s almost like lucid dreaming, these nightly visits with Demon Dean. But he’s never tried to control them, just takes what Demon Dean gives to him. 

Tonight, though, tonight he sees through the veil. So to speak. 

Demon Dean is above him, watching him with those blank, black eyes and that cold smile, distorted by the grimace of effort he’s putting into fucking Jensen as hard as he can. He’s got two fingers buried in Jensen’s mouth at the same time and he’s spouting the usual shit, but this time, Jensen knows it’s shit. 

“God, wish I could fuck your mouth and cunt at the same time. Both so fucking tight and pretty.” 

He thrusts deeply and Jensen groans around the fingers before spitting them out in disgust. Demon Dean doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Fuckin’ perfect here, right where you’re meant to be, getting this tight hole fucked sloppy. Just what you’re good for.” 

Jensen snaps, or breaks free. He’s not sure. 

With a roar of anger, he bucks his hips upwards, uses the momentum to shove Demon Dean over onto his back. Jensen goes with him, ends up straddling his waist, feeling Demon Dean’s hard cock resting against his ass, no longer inside him. 

With the demon beneath him, Jensen raises a fist to punch him, break his nose, his cheekbone, his jaw, anything. But those depthless black eyes and that cold fucking smirk stop him. Demon Dean would welcome the violence. Jensen is not a violent man, not unless he has to be. 

He has to be here. Has to take back control in the only way Demon Dean understands. 

He wraps his hand around the throat beneath him, squeezes just a little. Just to test. 

“You fed my demons long enough. No more.” 

The laugh that comes from below him is a little strained, a little wheezy. Jensen brings his other hand up, wraps them both around Demon Dean's neck, thumbs crossing over the Adam's apple. 

“Fed your demons? Jensen, you created mine.” 

Jensen squeezes. Hard. Tight. His arms shake with the effort. The face beneath him goes red, then purple. But the body never fights to break free. The hips under him squirm and thrust. 

Tighter. 

Harder. 

Jensen is sure something is going to pop, unsure if it will be him. 

Right as his arms are about to go limp, unable to hold the tension anymore, he feels the cock behind him twitch, kick and then shoot hot over his ass. When he looks into the face under him, the eyes appear to roll back. 

But instead they just morph to green, the same green eyes he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life. 

His hands fall from his own throat and the body under him takes a deep breath. 

Not Demon Dean anymore, only Jensen. 

Jensen wakes with a shout, his hips churning into the sheets and mattress below him, cock still spurting cum into his boxers. 

He’s soaked in sweat and when he realises what woke him - strangling Demon Dean and watching him morph back into Jensen - he feels new cold sweat break out all over him. 

Is it over? Is he free from Demon Dean’s spell? 

He needs to call Jared… 

But first, where did he put those new sheets?