#logic would tell me he's working/resting/auditioning

[neutron-stars-collision]

What I just can not get over is that people are still hating on Luke and dismissing his relationship with Antonia ever since it went public in June 2024!! She is clearly someone who means something to Luke, and who he wants in his life. The hatred is a unhinged atp.

Yep. When it comes to his haters (non-Lukolas, or at least they claim not to be shippers), I just can't understand why they are so driven to shit on him every chance they get. And you can't convince them otherwise, at that. Empathy seems to be a lost art, and they would rather assume he's the worst person ever and the cast lied (or was paid to be nice about him) when they said nice things.

No arguments coming from fellow ADHD fans, logical explanations or just literally non-assuming versions of events get through. I don't get it. You don't have to like him, but why occupy your time with talking badly about him? Is that a healthy response? I sure don't think so.

And with Antonia, is like it's obvious they're together. In whatever way, because we don't know if they're exclusively together, since when, etc. But the point stands - she's his girlfriend at this current moment. No amount of delusion and denial will change that. You also don't have to like her (personally, I literally don't care and pay her no mind), but it's a fact.

And then people wonder why he's pulled back from the public eye. Imo it's a mix of: insane hatred from crazies, increased scrutiny, exhaustion after last year (yes, still bc if he's as introverted as I think, then it's still taking its toll on him), and the desire to live his life as he wants.

And no amount of cruelty will change that. So why bother? I don't think Nicola, their sweetheart, would be proud of how they treat him.

... or maybe she would be, since allegedly they're beefing 😒

[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[falcqns]

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader, Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Henry has a crush on you, but you’re dating someone else, and he broods about it. he confronts you about it and ruins his career.

Warnings: swearing, threats, henry is a mega asshole in this and ruins his career, dont know where this idea came from lol

A/N: Bratty!Henry makes a comeback as requested! Hope you enjoy!

Don't blame me for falling

I was just a little boy

Don't blame the drunk calling

Wasn't ready for it all

Henry had been a fan of yours for a while. You had appeared in a few movies and TV shows, and he watched them almost religiously. You hadn’t been acting as long as him, but he firmly believed that you were way better at it than him, He had auditioned for a few of the same projects as you, but he never got the role, for one reason or another. He very vividly remembers watching the Mockingbird movie that you were in, and the feelings of jealousy he got as he watched you kiss your co star, Sebastian Stan. He almost wanted to hate Sebastian, but he had done nothing to him, so he couldn’t. Other than kiss the girl that Henry wanted for himself.

Then, one day, Anya and Freya busted into his trailer with huge smiles on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, petting Kal, and smirking at his friends. They locked eyes with each other and giggled before Freya told him what was going on.

“Y/N got a part on the show!” She squealed, and Henry felt warmth blossom in his chest in hope.

“Shut up. You’re joking!” He said, standing up, a huge smile spreading on his face. “When does she start?”

“Tomorrow!” Anya squealed, and Henry’s smile grew even bigger. He couldn’t wait.

You can't blame me, darling

Not even a little bit

I was away

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

Henry was practically shaking with excitement when he woke up the next morning. He wanted nothing more than to rush to set to meet you, but he needed to go for a run, eat, and get himself and Kal ready before he could do that.

40 minutes later, he was ready and was practically speeding to set with Kal in the passenger seat of his car. Kal had his head out the window, his mouth open, biting at the wind. Henry glanced over at him and chuckled. His stomach was feeling the same way.

He arrived moments later, and looked around the parking lot for your vehicle. He didn’t know what type of car your drive, but he noticed a black Dodge Ram 1500 that he hadn’t seen before today, so he had to assume that was yours. His eyes were darting everywhere, looking for you, while walking to his trailer. He dropped Kal off in his trailer, and filled up his food and water bowl before he left for the makeup trailer.

He walked out of his trailer, and that’s when he saw you. You were standing outside your trailer, which was opposite of his. Your hair and makeup was done, and you were talking on the phone. Suddenly, he was feeling very nervous, as you hung up the phone and your eyes landed on him. You waved at him, and the butterflies in his stomach grew as he walked over to meet you.

“Hi!” You said.

“Hi! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long,” HEnry said as he gazed into your E/C eyes. You blushed and he opened his arms for a hug, which you willingly gave.

“Me too!” You said, and the two of you continued talking until your phone rang again. Henry glanced down briefly and his heart dropped into his stomach at what he saw. It was a picture of you and Sebastian kissing, and there was a heart next to Seb’s name.

“Sorry, that’s my boyfriend, but I’ll talk to you on set, okay?” You said, and Henry nodded with a smile, an attempt to cover what he was truly feeling.

“Of course.” You nodded, and walked away with the phone held up to your ear.

“Hey, baby...” You said into the phone, not noticing how Henry turned his back, and walked towards his trailer.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry managed to hide the hurt he was feeling for a few days, but Anya and Freya first noticed something was wrong when Henry walked away from the three of you while you were telling them how Sebastian was trying to impress you once, and ended up falling down his trailer steps. Henry had made it to his trailer before breaking down. Kal bounded over to him, and pressed his body against his legs. Henry sunk to the floor, and let Kal rest his head on his shoulder. He let out a whine at Henry’s crying, and henry calmed down. He didn’t want to upset the one thing that makes him insanely happy. It was you, but you were taken. he couldn’t think about you liked that anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.

Anya came into his trailer a few minutes later, and sat next to him, her hand resting on his arm.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Henry lifted his head to look at Anya. “I like her. So much. But, she’s out there dating that asshole.”

Anya let out a laugh, and Henry looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“Sebastian isn’t an asshole. Just because he got her before you did, you’re going to make him look like the bad guy in this situation? First of all, there is no bad guy in the situation. She’s happy with him. He’s happy with her. If you’d sit and listen to the way she talks about him, you’d understand that. He has done things for her that I’ve never heard of anyone doing for their significant others, especially those who dont care about said significant others. When they were filming together, she really missed her best friend, so he flew her out for her birthday, and paid for them to spend the weekend at Disney World together. He’s a really nice guy, but you’re going to sit here and brood simply because he met her first. Dont blame him, and dont you dare blame her.” Anya said, before giving Kal a pet, and walking out of the trailer.

Henry glared at the wall opposite him for a few minutes, before pulling his phone out and going to instagram. He looked at his notifications, and scoffed in annoyance when he saw that Sebastian followed him. Without thinking, he clicked on the three dots, and blocked him.

You might be taken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to be okay with it. He stood up, wiped his eyes, and headed back to set. He made a point to keep his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t have to talk to you.

He shouldn’t be blaming you for this, but the jealous side of him told him to, since he couldn’t blame Sebastian.

I just hope you see me in a little better light

Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?

'Cause I miss the shape of your lips

You'll win, it's just a trick

And this is it, so I'm sorry

You noticed Henry’s demeanour towards you go down over the course of your first week, and you were scouring your brain to figure out why while on FaceTime with Sebastian.

“I don’t know what I did to him. He barely speaks to me, he refuses to be alone with me, and if I even mention something about Marvel or our movie, he scoffs, and makes snide little remarks. He seemed like such a nice a person, and i dont know what happened.” You explained to Sebastian, while playing with your fingers.

“I don’t know, either love. I did notice that he blocked me though. I tried to follow him earlier in the week, and now I can’t even find his account, so I think he blocked me. I don’t think it has anything to do with you,” He said, giving you a sincere smile, that was full of love. You smiled at the sight of his steel blue eyes.

“Why would he hate you though? You’ve never met, and I thought he was a Marvel fan. Anya told me he was, and that he went to see Mockingbird in theatres. It doesn’t make sense.” You said. You watched as something washed over Sebastians face, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“He might like you. I never even thought about that. He’s friends with Chris, I’ll find out for sure,” Seb said, picking up his phone and typing out a message to Chris.

“You think he like me?” You questioned, and Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, i think he does. I mean, he follows you on all your socials, comments on all your posts, he went and saw a Marvel movie by himself, and I’ve heard from a few people he’s been wanting to work with you for a while, but scheduling always got in the way. To me, its the only logical explanation right now.” He said, and you saw his face fall a little.

You smiled. “Baby, look at me,” His head lifted. “You know, even if this is true, I would never leave you, right?” He nodded.

“I know. It’s just- he’s played Superman. An actual superhero. I play a troubled 100 year old with a metal arm that he got through a debt owed to Steve by T’Challa. He’s played so many more influential roles in his career, and I haven’t even gotten the lead in a ‘superhero’ movie, I’m only a side character. And, I know you had a crush on him at one point. Plus, look at the dude! He looks like a Greek God. I don’t want to lose you.” Sebastian admitted.

You giggled slightly. “Baby, I don’t care about that. I care about you. Did you know that before I started on the Mockingbird set, I was terrified to work with you? I had the biggest crush on you, and I was terrified you wouldn’t like me back, but I was proven wrong instantly, when you came up to me and gave me the biggest hug, and told me if I needed anything, you were there for me. You waited for me on set so you could walk me to my car, even on days where you got to go before I did. You visited me when I was sick, and asked to hang out on our days off. You did that. He didn’t. I love you, not him, dragă.” You said, and he smiled. He locked eyes with you through the screen, and you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Te iubesc atat de mult,” He said in Romanian.

“Si eu te iubesc foarte mult.” You responded. “I’ll see you when your plane lands tomorrow, okay? It’s getting pretty late there, and your flights in a few hours.”

You and Seb said good night, and hung up. As you laid in bed a few minutes later, you thought to yourself. “Did Henry really like you, or was that just Seb’s jealousy?” You decided to confront Henry in the morning.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

You arrived at the door of Henry’s trailer less that 12 hours later, and you didn’t bother knocking. The thought of bringing Seb on set when Henry had a problem with him didn’t sit right with you, and you needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

You walked in, and saw Henry putting food and water in Kal’s bowls. He looked up at you before returning to what he was doing.

“What’s your problem with Sebastian?” You demanded, and to your anger, you got a scoff in return.

“Who says I have a problem with him?” He said, refusing to even look at you. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket but you ignored it for the moment.

“Seb! You blocked him on Instagram when he followed you. You roll your eyes whenever I talk about him, and get all pissed when he calls me. He’s done NOTHING to you! So what is your problem with him?” You demanded, and he finally turned around to look a you.

“He calls and texts you constantly! He always has to be talking to you. You’re here to do a job, not sit around and text your little boyfriend.” He said, and you laughed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I do my job perfectly well, and if you’d open your fucking eyes for two seconds, you’d see that I text him first! I tell him when I’m doing a scene, and when I’m not so he knows he can call me! Being in a long distance relationship is hard, and I’m trying to make it easier on him and I. And you say I’m here to do a job. Right now, I cant think of a SINGLE reason why I even took this job in the first place! Oh wait, I TOOK IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO WORK WITH YOU! Did you know I had an offer from Tom Cruise for The Mummy sequel and I turned it down because I wanted to work with you? I could be in Egypt right now, in shorts and a t shirt with Tom Cruise and Annabelle Wallis, my favourite actress, rather than in dreary fucking England, doing a show with you where you treat me worse than the horse shit that Zeus leaves in his path!” You screamed at him. His face became red, and he retaliated.

“FINE, YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I HATE HIM? BECAUSE HE HAD YOU FIRST! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK WITH YOU FOR YEARS, BECAUSE I HAVE HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON YOU, SINCE YOU APPEARED IN MURDOCH MYSTERIES! I WAS SO EXCITED TO BE ABLE TO WORK WITH YOU, AND I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND SLEEP WITH THE FIRST A LIST ACTOR YOU COULD GET YOUR HANDS ON WHO PROBABLY DOESN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU! YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE? LEAVE! I’M SURE TOM WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOU! HE PROBABLY WROTE THAT PART SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU, BECAUSE WHY WOUDN’T HE? YOU SEEM TO GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT SO WHY DON’T YOU JUST TAKE IT, AND GET OUT OF ENGLAND BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART EVEN MORE!” He screamed.

You blinked back tears, and swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “You don’t get to hate him because he got me before you did. That’s cruel and wrong. And I didn’t sleep with the ‘first A List celebrity i could get my hands on’. I slept with him because I love him, and he loves me. And you’re right,” You felt the tears spill over, and you did nothing to stop them. “I’m sure Tom will be happy to have me, because I quit. I cannot work with you. You are not the person I thought you were at all.” Your turned to walk out the door.

“And to think that I used to have a crush on you too,” You remarked before letting the trailer door slam.

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

You ran down the stairs and was immediately embraced by Sebastian, who had just arrived on set when he heard your and Henry’s screaming match.

“It’s okay,” He whispered into your ear, as you started sobbing. At that precise moment, Henry walked out of his trailer and opened his mouth to speak. Sebastian held up his hand before he could.

“I think you’ve done enough damage, Cavill. I’m not going to allow you to hurt her anymore. I can’t believe, that you, out of all people, would treat her like this simply because she’s dating someone else. You may play Superman, but you definitely don’t deserve it.” He remarked, and led out away. But, Henry being Henry, decided to snark back.

“You’re one to talk. You play a 106 year old Hydra assassin who somehow managed to convince everyone around him that his a good guy. You’re no worse than I am buddy.”

“Go to your trailer, I’ll see you in a second.” You nodded and headed in. While he dealt with Henry, you called Tom to let him know you could take the role after all.

“I don’t know why you think that you can treat my girlfriend like that, but it’s not okay. You should have seen the amount of research she did for this role! She read every single book, and played every single game in preparation for this role. She was so excited, and turned down the chance to work with her favourite actress to work with you. Not many people would do that. I also dont know what I did to warrant you absolutely hating my guts, other than dating her. I’ve done nothing to you, and even if I did, that doesn’t mean you can treat my girlfriend like shit for it. I’d watch your fucking back, because unlike you, she’s a Marvel actor. The majority of her friends are Marvel too, so don’t be surprised if you get a few nasty messages from certain Avengers, because I will not withhold this information.”

Sebastian walked in to your trailer and found you on the phone to Lauren, apologizing. You hung up a few seconds later and turned to Sebastian.

“She mad at you?” Sebastian asked, and you shook your head.

“No. She understands. She says that she’s sorry that he acted that way, and that she’ll be talking to him. I called Tom and I have the role. I fly to Egypt in two months.” You said, packing up your things. Seb nodded, and moved from where he was to help you.

You took off your costume, and took your hair out. Sebastian took your duffel bag with all your things, and the two of you headed out. Thankfully, you didn’t see Anya of Freya, you weren’t in the right space mentally to explain what happened. All you wanted to do right now was get as far away from Henry as possible.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry sat in his car after getting yelled at by Lauren, Anya, Freya, Joey, and the director, staring at the tree just outside his windshield. He let his emotions get the best of him, and now filming was suspended until they could find a replacement for you. No one was mad at you, no one blamed you. Not even him. He’s the one that fucked up, he’s the one paying the price.

He dug his phone out of his bag, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he had a whole bunch of unread messages. He filtered through all the threats that your Marvel friends had sent them.

Chris: you are unbelievable. i cannot believe you treated her like that. my first impression of you being a complete and utter dickhead was true. i can’t believe i was ever friends with you.

Anthony Mackie: for Superman, you’ve done some serious damage. and that’s saying something. i’d be amazed if this didn’t ruin your career completely. you dont get to sit there all high and mighty simply because you’re ‘heart broken.’ none of us are going to keep this quiet.

Scarlett Johansson: count your days cavill. never thought you’d be the type to make a girl cry.

Elizabeth Olsen: congrats on ruining your career. if you even come near Y/N again, we’ll do much worse than ruin your career. believe me.

He threw his head back against the seat. They wouldn’t take it to social media, would they? He thought as he clicked on his instagram app.

The first thing he saw was a post from Robert Downey Jr explaining what had happened.

He’d fucked up bad, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

[abovethesmokestacks]

Kiss Me

Title: Kiss Me

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Very intense kissing? Some grinding?

I am back on my Henry bullshit, this time with the lovely Captain Syverson. As with my last Henry fic, this came about from a discussion with Brooke, which led to a personalized fic, and she graciously okayed me posting it as a reader insert for the rest of you to enjoy. Partly inspired by the video of strangers kissing for the first time. And if this guy were the one I’d get to kiss? Hold on while I go full koala on him.

The early afternoon sun had seemed blistering when she left her apartment, and the sundress had been the obvious option; light, breezy material, a pretty pattern that combined comfort and style. The sun had nothing on the man sitting down opposite her now, radiating a kind of warmth and confidence that had heat creeping up her chest and neck, her fingers fiddling in her lap.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, an audition call shared by a recent acquaintance on Instagram. Film majors at the nearby college needed volunteers for a course project, weekend appointments, no experience needed, come as you are. Sounded fun, her weekends were mostly open anyway. What could possibly go wrong. She had messaged the contact person, gotten an address and a time to show up.

The first shock, admittedly, had come as she was signed in, given a form to fill out, detailing the project. She. Was going to kiss. A stranger. In front of cameras. For a film project. 

“Miss? Are you alright?” The bubbly brunette who had signed her in, Abigail, according to the name tag tacked to her t-shirt, had looked at her, and she realized she must have made a sound.

“No! No, I'm fine, I- I just didn’t realize I’d- That this was-”

“Oh! Oh, you’ll be fine, there will be people in the room, you'll be safe as houses, darling, we won't say your names, that'll be up to you to share if you want.” The twang of her accent had was oddly comforting, but her heart was still racing, and suddenly, the handful of people lined up sitting in the corridor seemed all the more dangerous. She was going to kiss one of them. Fuck. Hastily, she'd filled out the rest of the form, handing it back and taking the number given, finding the nearest chair and trying to rifle through her purse as discreetly as she could for a chewing gum or a breath mint. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She had nearly launched out of her seat when her number was called, probably doing a credible impression of a deer caught in headlights. Abigail had smiled at her, motioning for her to follow.

“I promise, you will be fine. Our project manager wanted to explore the intimacy of the first kiss, what happens in those seconds before.”

“Why strangers?”

“It’s more… honest,” Abigail had said. “Couples know each other, know what to expect. They are comfortable. And it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing sweeter. I still remember my grandpa kissing my grandma goodnight when my brother and I would stay over when we were kids, the absolute comfort and love between them. But strangers, they don’t know what to expect. There’s a level of trust between them, courage to take the leap.”

That’s… She couldn’t decide if that eased her mind or set it racing even more. She’d simply nodded, letting Abigail lead her to a door a little way ahead, unlocking it for her.

“You can leave your purse on the table on the right when you enter. Then go sit in one of the chairs. I’ll bring the guy in shortly. The camera will start rolling as soon as he sits down, you can introduce yourself if you want, just your name, doesn't even have to be your real one if you don't want to, and you can share whatever else you feel comfortable sharing and then…”

“Then we kiss.”

It had seemed so simple, so straightforward in all its terrifying simplicity.

At first, there is only the outline of him, stark against the light outside the room and showing a muscular frame with tensed shoulders and a wary gait. Folding her hands in her lap, she picks at the fabric of her dress, folding the skirt into tight pleats between her fingers, following the man as he inches closer. Dark jeans that reveal long legs and thick thighs, a worn t-shirt tucked into them that stretches over a chest that is… impressive. His face, though… His face is what sets her heart fluttering all anew. A strong jaw, hidden under a neatly trimmed beard, a slightly pouty lower lip and a perfect cupid’s bow. His nose looks like it may have been broken once, but it’s been set pretty well, lends character to his face, enhanced by the clear blue of his eyes that focus in on her. His hair is short, curling a little at the ends, but kept as neat as his beard, almost like a military man, but she can spot no chain around his neck that would hold his dog tags.

And then, he’d walked in. 

She barely hears the murmur to her left when the cameras start rolling.

He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting down, gaze on her, softening a little as he holds out a hand.

“Ca- Shit, sorry. No names, right?” He looks at her, almost a little scared that he’s messed up, and it is far too endearing for such a rugged man.

Without hesitation, she gives her first name, her real first name, a little surprised at herself for offering it along with her hand. His hand is calloused, warm and big, her own palm almost drowning in his clasp when he takes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The man laughs, releasing her hand and relaxing in his seat. “Sy. Nice to meet you, too. Pardon me if I'm being rude, but you don't sound like you're from around here.”

“Here for work for the next couple of months. Gotta say, you've got a pretty good ear.”

His eyes sparkle, a smile tugging at his lips, and god, the heat rises in her again, different from the apprehension that had her worked up just moments ago. He is the kind of man that draws you in, that can make you melt with a look, and she is fading fast. She is going to kiss him. He is going to kiss her.

“I won't hold it against you," Sy quips, hands resting on his thighs, and god, she wants to feel them on her.

"Me not being from around here? Or are we talking about something else?"

"Well, I was thinking the first..."

His words trail off, the suggestion hanging heavy in the silence. It feels like it stretches an eternity between them, but it's probably no more than five seconds. She's about to ask if they should start, if she should move, but Sy is looking at her, gaze wandering, assessing. The way he takes her in,i's not objectifying or greedy, not judgmental. It's… curiosity. Assessing her, planning his move, appreciating her, and she can feel it, feel his gaze move up and down her face, when it dips down for a fraction to her chest.

Everything fades with his first move. There are no cameras, no people, no one but them. Sy moves slowly, deliberately, scooting to sit on the edge of the chair, knee knocking against hers. It's electric, making her flinch and gasp, and that seems to please him. His hand comes up to rest on her knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, locking eyes with her, willing her to relax.

"There we go…" Sy croons when she lets out a small sigh, his voice low and velvety. "Just relax. 'S just you an' me here. Don’t need to think about the rest of ‘em.. I'll be good, darlin', you can trust me. Isn't that right?"

She can only nod, inching towards the edge of her own chair, drawn into his warmth, the gentle timbre of his voice, the smolder behind the blue of his eyes.

"Yeah, that’s right, sugar. C’mon, come closer.”

His voice is hypnotic, not quite a purr, not quite a rumble, but it begs to be obeyed. She leans in closer, the two of them mirroring each other, and the tension is no longer in his shoulder, but sparking between them. His measured breaths fan lightly against her skin, and though everything in her should, by all logic, tell her to run, she finds herself relaxing. Sy’s thumb keeps working tight little circles, and he moves slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his intentions, and God, she welcomes it, tilts her head to welcome him.

It’s no explosion of stars or fireworks. His lips are a little chapped, but he knows how to kiss, working against her in soft pressure and the tease of his tongue along the seam of her lips. It’s not forcing the kiss, just giving her the option, showing that he is offering. When his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, she can’t help the needy whine that escapes her, and Sy smiles into the kiss, deepens it a little, swipes his tongue along her lips again.

She opens, happily surrendering, feeling him push back, soothing his thumb along her cheekbone. He kisses like she is the one thing he has been longing for, his happily ever after at the end of a long adventure. She kisses like he is the single point of stability in a storm, the one safe harbour in the entire world. Their spaces intertwine, slowly phasing and his one hand on her cheek is nowhere near enough. She pushes, Sy gives, and in one fluid moment and a happy sigh, she has straddled his lap, slinging her arms around his neck. She’s not letting go, not leaving this moment, and it’s almost like triumph when he embraces her, palms splaying on her back and she can feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress.

It’s a kiss for the ages, and they’re both hungry, both taking what the other gives freely. Sy’s hands wander, his fingertips teasing at the neckline to brush against heated skin, and she digs short, manicured nails into the skin of his neck, revelling in the groan he lets out. He pulls her closer, and oh. Her stomach does a somersault, a surprised giggle punctuating their kiss. Under her, Sy is hard, and the brief contact makes her all too aware of just how damp her panties have gotten.

There’s a less than discreet cough, and it pops their bubble, their gazes both snapping to the sound. 

Right.

The film crew are standing behind their gear, some squirming, clearly a little uncomfortable. Sy gives a laugh, and it’s hard not to follow. She still feels winded from the kiss, head swimming, and she touches her forehead to his, biting her lower lip.

“I think we… might have overdone it,” she whispers, lips brushing against his cheek.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Sy agrees, his shoulders shuddering with poorly disguised mirth. He looks up at the film crew, “So, are we good?”

“Yup, great! We’re really- we’re good, you guys can, uh… Yeah. Good. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Great.”

They both laugh again at the awkward crew member, and she slowly eases off Sy’s lap. It’s too much of a temptation not to glance down, to raise an eyebrow at the visible bulge pressing against his jeans. He gives her a mock-chiding look before getting up himself, taking care to not face the crew as he falls into step next to her.

“Look,” he says as soon as they are out of the building, wringing his hands as he walks, “I know we just met, and that… that back there was for a project. But, god, sugar, you got my head spinning all kinds of ways, and I… it would be rude to ask to continue right away where we left off, much as I… god, I would really, really like to kiss you again, and… other things… But maybe you would be okay with a date? Anywhere you want. You can get to know me better. I’ll answer any questions you have, I’ll bring character references, I’ll pay for dinner and dessert, whatever you want.”

Halting, she tilts her head and looks up at him. The steely look that had assessed her when he’d entered the room is gone, as is most of the smoldering passion when their kiss had broken. It still lingers in his eyes, simmering behind the hope that made them glitter.

“You’ll answer any question?” she asks, smiling at the way he eagerly nods. “Is your name really Sy?”

“Yes. Well, technically. Syverson’s my last name, so Sy’s just a nickname.”

“And your first name? You started saying something else when you came in.”

“No, that was… I was in the army for a couple of years,” he explained, pulling up one of the sleeves of his shirt to show an army insignia tattooed on his bulging bicep. She bites her tongue, wondering if he had any other tattoos on his body, almost missing when Sy continues speaking, “-made it to captain before I got my honourable discharge. Just became a force of habit to introduce myself as Captain Syverson.”

“So, you’d bring one of your army buddies as your character reference?” She slows down to a stop, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I suppose now that you’re out of the army they wouldn’t feel as compelled to make you look good.”

Sy mirrors her, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of him, and yeah, now she can see it, the posture. Definitely army guy. “No, no, god no! The guys in my unit would sooner throw me under the bus if I asked them to vouch for me in front of a pretty lady.”

“Oh, then who’d get the honour?” she asks, blushing at his compliment.

“When you signed in, there was a girl, right? Brown hair?”

“Abigail.”

“Abby,” Sy says, glancing back towards the building. “She’s my sister. Talked me into coming today, said they needed more people.”

“She must have something major hanging over you if she got you to agree to this.” Her voice is light, joking a she inches closer to him.

“Well…” Sy drawls, taking a step forward and gently grasping her hand, “I was promised a really good kiss.”

“A really good kiss, huh?”

Just like before, he makes the first move, hooking his finger under her chin and holding her still while he closes the space, capturing her lips in another kiss. It’s searing, slowly setting her afire, and she wants it, wants him, wants everything he’s giving and everything he’s offering. He keeps it short, and she can feel herself get up on her tippy toes to get more, and damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. She bites her lower lip.

“So how about that date, huh, darlin’?” Sy husks out, and fuck, she can hear the smile in his voice.

“I can pick the place?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I can pick the time?”

“Any time you want.”

She reaches out, puts a hand on his neck, drags her fingers along warm skin and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

“Your place. Right now. And dinner… is on me.”

[edupunkn00b]

Perennials: Monte Casino Aster (Charm & Patience)

Word count: 3459 - T - [ AO3 ] - Canon(ish), Post-POF - Overture May Flowers Event Day 29 Prompt: Monte Casino Aster for Charm and Patience

CW: Remus, Remus reveals a six-year old spoiler for the end of Starkid's The Oregon Trail. (hint: it's a meme)

"I don't think anyone can grow unless he's loved exactly as he is now, appreciated for what he is rather than what he will be." -Fred Rogers, Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers ---

Logan removed his glasses, carefully folding them and placing them on the desk in front of him. Resting his elbows on the desk, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples, willing just a few more hours of work out of his fuzzy brain. Thomas' audition for the play was in three days and he wanted to be sure every contingency was planned for. Just a few more hours and then I will take a break, he bargained with himself.

He heard a familiar rapping at his door before Patton's muffled voice sounded from the other side. "Hey, Logan, what do you call a tired male bovine?"

Logan sighed quietly, suppressing a smile. "Come in, Patton." The Paternal Side turned the knob and stood in the doorway, smiling brightly. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, dancing his shoulders from side to side. Logan swiveled his chair to face him. "I do not know, Patton, but you look like you want to tell me."

"A bulldozer!," Patton giggled as the Logical Side closed his eyes.

"That was a good one, Patton. You got me." Logan let a small smile curl his lips and Patton's shoulder dancing resumed. "Was there something I could help you with? I am in the middle of planning the rest of Thomas' week."

"Oh, right, Kiddo. I came by to see if you wanted to watch a movie with us." Patton jerked his thumb toward the staircase. "Roman and Virgil are setting up downstairs."

Logan looked back at the papers strewn over most of his desk and the calendar program on his computer and sighed. "I appreciate the offer, Patton, but perhaps another time would be better."

Patton's face fell for a microsecond before he pushed his smile back into place. "Oh, of course, Logan. Next time. And if you change your mind ..." Patton looked hopeful, "You know those two won't mind running the video back if you decide to join us later."

Those two. Logan's eyebrows knit together and he adjusted his glasses. "Are Janus and Remus not joining you, either?" Patton's mouth opened in a wince and he looked to the side. "Ah. You have chosen not to invite them." Logan's mouth turned down slightly.

"Well, it's not that we didn't want ...," Patton hung his head, staring at the floor, unable to meet Logan's eyes. "We just thought perhaps they'd ... Virgil was pretty sure they wouldn't be interested and, you know, he knows them better than any of us on account of ...," he shrugged, looking up briefly to see Logan's hardened expression. "You know ..."

Logan huffed out a breath. "Yes. Yes, I do know. You might be surprised if you actually bothered to ask them." He returned his attention to the work in front of him. "Thank you for the invitation, Patton. Please close the door on your way out, I have some more work to do before I turn in for the evening."

"Sure, Logan. The offer stands ...," Patton said, slowly closing the door.

Logan's voice was low. "I hope that is true for all of us."

Patton nodded as the door latch quietly clicked over the strike plate. He sighed, looking at the lemon yellow door on the other side of Logan's.

Gnawing at his lower lip, Patton approached Janus' door and quietly knocked. Janus opened the door almost immediately. Patton took a half-step back, blinking. "Uh, hey there, Janus. Um, I was wondering if you were busy?"

Janus narrowed his eyes, licking his lips. Patton pushed down the urge to coo about bleps, instead smiling at the former Dark Side. "What do you need, Patton?"

Patton shuffled his feet. "I, well, we," Janus tasted the air again. "We were wondering if you'd like to join us for a movie?," Janus looked closely at the Paternal Side. The 'we' in his words was bitter.

"I already have plans with Remus this evening, however I'm sure we would love to join you all next time, Patton." Janus bowed his head, "Thank you for invitation."

Patton nodded, "Ok, well, good night. Oh, and I'm making waffles tomorrow morning for breakfast, if you'd like to join us."

Janus tilted his head and blinked at the unexpected offer. Patton held his breath, hoping Janus wouldn't think he was offering simply because Virgil rarely made it down before 10 the morning after a movie night. I'm trying, Janus. You can give a little. "Why thank you, Patton. We'll see you in the morning."

Patton skipped downstairs, rejoining Virgil and Roman. They had transformed the room into a movie night paradise. Roman had extended the couch so there was room to lie down, and they'd built a blanket fort all around them, framing the glow of the television. Virgil was hanging fairy lights on the inside of the fort, giving the interior a cozy, warm glow. Bowls of popcorn, grapes, and chocolates were strategically placed, as were sodas and water. The other Sides looked up when Patton entered alone.

"Teach is sitting this one out?," Virgil asked quietly.

The Paternal Side nodded, "Yeah, he's working on the schedule for the day of the audition. He wants everything to be perfect." Patton gripped Virgil's shoulder, "We'll plan another movie night this weekend, Kiddo, and get everyone down here."

Virgil's eyes widened. "Everyone 'everyone'? Are you sure about that, Pop Star?" He looked around the blanket fort, trying to imagine relaxing in the same room as Remus or listening to Janus' commentary on whatever they chose to watch. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

Roman bumped Virgil's shoulder, "Hey, it's worth trying ... even you turned out to be fun at movie nights, Emo," the soft look Roman gave the Anxious Side made the nickname sound like an endearment.

Patton grinned as he watched Virgil meet Roman's eyes, his scowl slowly evaporating. "Alright, maybe you have a point."

Roman pirouetted, laughing gleefully. "It's a plan! In the meantime, however ... we have a movie to watch tonight!" He stopped in front of Virgil and Patton. "What would you two like to watch?"

"Hmm," Patton clapped his hands together, thinking. "I'd say Aladdin but I know you two watched it recently." Roman and Virgil exchanged a glance. Patton tilted his head, thinking how the red fairy lights made Roman seemed to glow. He'd have to mention that to Virgil later, to thank him for thinking of adding the soft lights.

"We, uh, never actually finished watching it the other night, Pat," Virgil stammered.

"Oh, it was a long day, I bet you two were tired," Patton nodded understandingly. He hoped they didn't still feel bad for going to bed without putting their mugs in the dishwasher.

"Um, yeah," Virgil said, staring at the floor.

Patton grinned, giving Virgil's arm a little squeeze, "That means we can watch it tonight! Seeing the disk in the player that night made me want to see it again."

"Sooo ... I'll go get the disk," Roman scrambled to find the DVD, setting it in the machine and queuing it up, skipping the trailers for decades-old movies.

...

Forty-five minutes later - I could not last even two Pomodoros?! Logan chided himself - his hand started to cramp. He put down his pencil and massaged the knot that had formed in the fleshy muscle between his metacarpal bones. He sighed heavily, sitting back in his chair, blinking away the fuzziness in his vision. Suddenly, his door quietly swung wide open. Logan looked up to see Remus standing in his doorway, a wild grin on his face.

Logan bit the inside of this cheek to stop from matching the Creative Side's wide smile. He turned to face him, still massaging his hand. "How did you manage to slam my door open without the actual 'slam' ?"

"Oh, did you like that?" Remus' grin somehow grew and he gave the Logical Side a quick wink. "You said the noise gave you headache so I temporarily turned your door into rubber. See?," Remus pounded on the door with his morning star and they both watched Lucie bounce right off without a sound.

"Remus, that is remarka-", Logan cleared his throat. "I mean, of course knocking is always an easier option if you wish to alert me to your presence without the racket."

"Yeah, I could, but where's the fun in that?" Remus waggled his eyebrows and threw himself at a blank spot on Logan's desk. "Huh, lucky thing you moved your pencil sharpener to the other side of the desk or I would have ended up with an ass full of -"

"Remus," Logan briefly tapped the Duke's knee before he could finish his colorful sentence, "Did you have a purpose for your visit?," Logan picked up his pencil and was making small notations on a print out of Thomas' schedule for the day of the audition.

"Oh, right." Remus swung his feet back and forth, nearly but never actually kicking Logan or his chair. He shrugged. "Nope, not really." Logan raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply continuing his work. Remus rested Lucie against the bookshelf next to Logan's desk and started swirling his hands, staring intently at the colors forming between his palms. After a few minutes he stopped and smiled. He held out a small potted Aster and placed it on Logan's desk next to his pencil cup.

Logan tilted his head, admiring the flower, as he turned over his Pomodoro half-hour glass when the sand ran out. "Thank you, Remus, that is ... quite lovely." He made a few more notations. After a moment, he licked his lips and turned to the Creative Side. "Remus, may I ask you a rather personal question?"

Grinning wickedly with raised eyebrows, he leaned toward Logan and murmured, "Ooooh ... What you would like know?"

Clearing his throat, Logan looked away from Remus' dancing eyes and tilted his chin toward the flower he had just conjured. "Most of your creations tend toward the macabre." His eyebrows drew together as he picked up the small pot and examined the flower. "Your flowers, however," Logan looked around at the stargazers that still adorned his walls in a few places, "Your flowers are ... well they're extraordinary, Remus. But ... they are also ... conventionally beautiful in a way that I thought was unappealing to your esthetic."

Remus gnawed at his mustache, peering carefully at Logan. Suddenly he smiled broadly. "I don't only enjoy the nasty sides of life. I can appreciate conventional beauty as you put it," Remus reached out and stroked Logan's hands where he held the flower pot. He lifted it closer to the Logical Side. "Besides," he whispered, eyes lighting up, "Have you ever really looked at a flower? They're the sexiest things imaginable." He shimmied his shoulders and licked his lips, staring into Logan's eyes, "Well, of course, next to fu-"

There was a firm knock at Logan's door.

Logan took a deep breath and replaced the Aster where Remus had originally set it. He narrowed his eyes at the Creative Side. "I am going to suspect this is more than a coincidence if that is Janus at the door." Remus simply shrugged, a toothy smile splitting his face. He wiggled his shoulders while he sat perched on Logan's desk. The movement reminded him of Patton's excited dance earlier that evening.

Logan stood and opened the door. Janus smirked at him, "Still hard at work, I see, dear Logan?" Janus looked past Logan to see Remus sitting on the Logical Side's desk, balancing a pencil on each fingertip. "Well, as hard as you can work with Remus around?"

Remus called out, "Oh, speaking of har-" Janus silenced him with a look and a twitch of his hand.

"May I come in, Logan?" Logan could hear music and the Genie singing, 'You ain't never had a friend like me!' coming from the common room downstairs.

"Of course, please," Logan opened the door completely, moving aside to allow him entry. Janus bowed his head in thanks and stepped inside, taking in the papers spread on Logan's desk, the nearly-overflowing bin filled with crumpled papers, and a wild-eyed Remus in the corner of the desk. Janus and Remus exchanged a look.

"How much more work do you have to do, Lo Lo?" Logan felt the tips of his ears burn at the Creative Side's nickname. Judging by Remus's pleased grin and the way Janus demurely looked away, each of the other Sides noticed his blush.

Logan cleared his throat. "I have a few more hours of work ahead of me." He turned to face his guests. "Did either of you need my assistance with something?"

"If I may ask, what are you working on, Logan?," Janus replied, ignoring his question and instead slowly approaching Logan's desk.

Shaking his head briefly at the apparent non-sequitur, Logan pointed to the computer, "I am preparing a set of contingency plans for the day of Thomas' audition. I do not want to risk any sort of scheduling mishap or unexpected event becoming an obstacle." Logan left the word 'again' unspoken. Janus nodded slowly, examining the computer screen and the papers laid out on the desk. "And you have auto-save enabled?"

Logan adjusted his glasses, 'Yes, of course, it is the most prudent way to - " Janus nodded at Remus who quickly closed the lid of the laptop, hopping off the desk.

"Wait, I have more to do!," Logan exclaimed.

"Logan," Janus murmured, gently gripping the Logical Side's chin and turning his face away from Remus' tidying. "You have done more than enough work for today. The schedule is ready and tomorrow is another day for one more review." Janus carefully cupped Logan's cheek as he examined his face. "Your eyes are bloodshot and I can see by the way you're squinting that you have a tension headache. And, here," He raised one of Logan's hands between them. "Your hands are shaking so hard I'm surprised you can even hold a pen." Logan pulled his hand back, massaging his hands together. "You will be more productive tomorrow after you have had the opportunity to relax and then sleep."

Logan opened his mouth to protest but then sighed heavily, "Perhaps you are right. Thank you, Janus, I promise I'll get some rest." He started to usher Janus out of his room. Remus sprawled on his belly across Logan's bed, chin cradled in his hands, grinning and watching Janus fight to suppress a smile. "Thank you for the reminder to not neglect my own self-care."

"Logan, my dear, did you forget to whom you are speaking?" Janus smirked at him, eyebrow raised. "You have no intention of actually resting, you are merely seeking to clear us out so you can resume your work." Remus got up and stood behind Logan, hands his shoulders, leaning close to his ear.

"You're not getting rid of us, Lo Lo," Remus whispered. Logan felt his shoulders relax under the warm pressure of the Duke's hands and a pain he'd been trying to ignore at the base of his neck seemed to evaporate. "Not until you've taken a break."

Janus smiled with real warmth. "We were hoping you would watch something with us. We think you'll like it." Remus waved his hand and a projection appeared on the wall facing Logan's bed. "How much do you remember of Twisted?"

...

Patton and Roman sat on either side of Virgil under the blanket fort. Patton's eyes were glued to the screen, watching as Aladdin and Jasmine soared through the sky on the magic carpet. Virgil had pulled his knees up, hugging them against his chest. Roman murmured, reaching for one of the blankets stacked next to him. "Are you cold, my lo - Lore of the Night?"

"A little," Virgil whispered. Roman draped a fuzzy purple throw over Virgil's shoulders, wrapping it around his legs.

"Better?"

Virgil nodded, leaning a bit against Roman as he wrapped an arm around the Anxious Side's shoulders.

Roman hummed along to the magic carpet ride song, "No-one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming ..." He realized he'd started singing aloud when he saw Virgil's movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked down and saw the Anxious Side smirking up at him. Virgil chuckled and bumped his shoulder, then leaned back again.

As the movie went on, the three grew quiet, wrapped up in the story. Near the end, Patton reached for a water bottle, looking over at his companions and he finally noticed the two snuggled together, a sleepy look on Virgil's face. It felt so good to see Virgil be able to relax. Patton saw that Roman was looking down at Virgil, too, not watching the movie. He was watching Virgil like he somehow contained the entire Disney canon in one scene. He met Roman's eyes, and Patton realized it wasn't the lights giving the Princely Side that lovely glow, but that Roman was blushing.

"Oh ...," Patton breathed more than spoke the word. Roman's eyes grew wide, looking from Patton to Virgil. Patton just smiled and placed a finger to his lips, then returned his attention to the movie.

..

"And this is a musical by this group ... Starkid?"

Remus grinned, "They're who we have to thank for 'Harry Frickin Potter' oh, and The Oregon Trail! Hey, Jannie," Remus shimmied his shoulders and grabbed Janus' arm, "we should watch that after Twisted! I found an edit with every different ending!" He turned to Logan, a mad smile painting his face, "Someone different gets dysentery and dies horribly in each version!"

Janus smiled indulgently, "Perhaps one video is sufficient for tonight?," he murmured gently, eyes lingering on Logan. Remus shrugged and flung himself across the two of them onto the far side of Logan's bed, settling in next to the Logical Side. The three sat in a line, Janus on Logan's right-hand side, Remus on his left, their backs resting against Logan's newly-padded headboard. Janus nodded appreciatively to the Creative Side. "Nice addition, Remus."

Grinning proudly, Remus started the video and the opening narration began.

"Oh," Logan nodded his head slowly, whispering to Remus. "I do recall Thomas watching this with Joan and Talyn before they moved to Vermont." He frowned, eyebrows knit together. "At the time, I had thought it was ill-advised to spend two hours watching a YouTube video when there was so much work to complete before they left." Logan frowned. "I didn't pay much attention to the musical and instead worked on a new schedule." He tilted his head, feeling the warmth of the former Dark Sides on either side of him, noting how the three of them were sitting similarly to how Thomas, Joan, and Talyn had sat for their viewing.

Remus whispered back, "Oh, you're gonna love this, Lo Lo! They eviscerate Disney!," He flung his arm around Logan's shoulders, twitching excitedly. "Listen ..."

The three Sides were quickly enthralled by the video. As the Sultan was introduced, Remus grew restless and shifted position, laying on his stomach diagonally across Janus and Logan's and swinging his feet, carefully avoiding kicking either of the other two sides. He started snickering when the Sultan's speech began. Janus reached out, briefly carding his hand through Remus' hair, murmuring, "And no, you should not try it, either." Remus rolled his eyes at Janus, but laughed with him.

As the scene progressed, Logan noticed that Remus was paying more attention to Janus than to the screen. Suddenly, Remus somersaulted over them, sliding into the space between Janus and the headboard, shifting him forward slightly. He wrapped his arms around Janus. Logan looked over, and saw Janus' eyes shining with unshed tears and started to move away to give the pair more space. But Remus pulled him in, shaking his head slightly, gesturing with his chin to stay with them. Nodding, Logan moved a little closer and Janus linked arms with him, gripping his hand and scootching down a bit. Janus leaned back against Remus, and laid his head against Logan's shoulder, scaled fingers intertwined with Logan's, gripping tightly. That's when Logan realized that Janus had removed his gloves at some point during the video. Logan gently squeezed back, stunned but determined to gracefully accept Janus' expression of trust.

As the main character began to sing, Logan listened carefully to the lyrics and soon found himself swallowing against a lump in his throat. Remus smiled at the other two sides and let go of Janus for a moment to conjure a box of tissues, placing it between the two of them.

The next scene had the three Sides laughing again. During the song, Remus whispered, "Hey, Lo Lo, you've got something on your head, hold still." Logan froze, eyebrows knitted. Janus looked at the two of them with a small knowing smile, still comfortably nestled against Remus' chest. And though they had gotten past the tragic scene, Janus hadn't let go of Logan's hand.

"What is it, Remus?," Logan whispered, hoping to avoid distracting Janus, not realizing that Janus was already watching them and not the video.

Remus leaned close and kissed the side of his head, then grinned. "That." ---

Note: It is tempting to include the entirety of several songs from Twisted, a Starkid adaptation of Aladdin here. The songs and story structure mirror those of Disney, while using the POV-shift used in Wicked, to tell the famous tale from the perspective of Jafar. To no-one's surprise, it is Janus' favorite anything.

@tsshipmonth2020​

[withahuntershand]

i loathe indulgence because it feels unfair. i have a lot i need to work out in the tapestry i am weaving: you are so self assured in this moment of yours—if we are paintings, you are a fresco and i am a child’s flower. both are art and both can be loved but one goes on fridges or is smeared with syrup and one isn’t allowed to be touched, only admired with a twinge of envy.

i’m hormonal in that way i get where i am sickly and tearful. i read about the dog they shot into space and cried on the train. i thought about giving them a hug when i landed and cried on the plane. i played my audition song on the airport piano and a woman walked by and told me i sounded lovely. i am in love with the human condition but i am frowning at mine.

i don’t like when i get this way. you tell me i am good and i believe you but i believe you from far away. i have a lot of things i should be excited for but i feel like i am watching them from a balcony. there is a version of me who is happy and dancing: she is hosting a dinner party, she looks great, she laughs loudly, but i am watching her from the fifth floor. every affirmation i give feels like a lie. i told my mom i missed her and two weeks ago i did but last night i cried at the thought of drying the rain from my coat. i felt like a bad daughter. i feel like a bad friend. i’m watching it all from behind glass.

i know i am just tired and i know i am just stressed and i know my body is very unkindly telling me that it is still functioning biologically. i wish very deeply to feel anything at all again. there is a big pit opening up inside of me and it feels like things are getting sucked down and things are getting spewed out. i am jealous and i am apathetic simultaneously. i am lonely and full of love. there is a duality that feels akin to wasting disease—i never know where i stand.

i told you i would be honest and here is honest. i feel shitty. i can’t get it to stop.

it is logically temporary but currently eternal. i feel like i am cheating you of something, or lying about my chest. i’m all predator. claws and teeth but not in the way that sinks into flesh: just shining for show.

i am cutting things out and losing the capacity for others. guillotine poised. like i said: whatever was ripped from me in january forced me to grow up. i feel alone always. i had an arm thrown around my shoulders and i bit the thumb. i never seem to learn and all i want is a hand to hold but the hand is bandaged now and i can’t feel the skin.

i never seem to learn and i can feel this slipping from my fingers. i am finding it hard to trust that it is okay to gorge myself on this meal. i am finding it hard to be hungry at all. i am not a starving man: i am a weary man. i am a traveling man. there is rain-water to slake my thirst and kernels to sedate the hunger but there is no bed to rest my limbs in. we talked about our bed sizes. mostly i was just excited to be alone in mine.

i am perpetually lonely without him. i do not like a world where there is someone else i choose first. i do not play nicely with being second choice. sometimes i open his texts without responding just to feel in control. i apologized for being catty when i felt rejection’s sting. i repeat the old action anyways.

i cry when i shouldn’t. i cry in bed. i cry in public. i am the little dog in space: there is no return voyage. i’ll die one way or another—overheating or poisoned meals or asphyxiation—a surplus or a lack or something inherently wrong.

the first man to spacewalk was an artist. he drew the first sunrise he saw as it crested over earth’s bulging horizon. the difference between us now is his first sketch, done in space—scientifically engineered pencils, 5 inch note pad—and the ones he did back home, over and over, like a mantra and a prayer.

[rachaelswrites]

Red Carpet Mishap

Jake Gyllenhaal x daughter!reaader

Word Count: 1,460

Requested by: Anonymous

Can I please make a request where it’s  Jake Gyllenhaal x reader where the reader gets sick at an important event like a red carpet marvel movie they were both in and she gets sick the day of the event but hides it from her dad until they are at the event and she either faints or vomit on the red carpet and then Jake takes her home and looks after her. 

Warnings: mentions of throw up

You had been acting for a few years but only had small roles in tv shows. Your dad encouraged you to try auditioning for movies and you ended up getting a role with him in his upcoming marvel movie. You were beyond excited since you got to experience your first movie with him. You had put so much work into your character and you were excited to finally get to see it all on the screen.

A few days before the premier, you had felt a little under the weather, but thought it was just because of the jet lag. You managed to hide it from Jake by blaming some of your symptoms on your period or stress; and he believed you. You had started to feel better up until the morning of. When you woke up, you felt as if you got hit by a truck five times. You had the need to throw up, so you ran to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet. You cleaned up and took a shower, hoping your dad didn’t hear. Jake was very protective of you since you were his only child. If he knew anything bad was happening to you, he would immediately jump into helicopter parent mode. 

After your shower you left the bathroom and looked in your dad’s bag for anything that could help you feel better. Just for tonight. You found a bottle of Tums. They didn’t expire for another month, so you opened it and popped one in your mouth. ‘It can’t hurt.’ You thought to yourself. Jake started to stir, so you put the bottle in your own bag, walked to his bed and sat next to him. 

“Hey honey. Are you excited for tonight?” 

You nodded. You told him you had some school stuff to finish up so you couldn’t hang out with him and the rest of the cast. You laid around in bed for a few hours before deciding to get ready. You stood up and went into the closet. You grabbed the garment bag that held your dress and unzipped it. It was your first premier and your dad spared no expense on the dress. You loved the dress and didn’t want to disappoint him by not going; even though you still didn’t feel well. You changed into it and straightened your hair. You sat back on the bed and waited until your dad got back.

“Y/n? I see you're already ready to go,” He joked. 

“Yup! I just couldn’t wait any longer.”  

Jake chuckled, grabbed his own suit and changed in the bathroom. He stepped out and spun around. 

You giggled, “you look very dapper if I do say so myself,” You said in a fake British accent.

“Why thank you, young lady. Do you dare accompany me?” He copied your accent. 

You nodded and stood up quickly. The motion making your stomach churn. He held out his hand and you grabbed it, swallowing the vomit rising in your throat. You almost made it out the door until you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

“I have to use the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the lobby,” You lied. 

Jake nodded and let you be. Once in the clear, you pulled your hair back and threw up again. You brushed your teeth and rummaged through your bag to find some perfume to cover up the smell. You also grabbed another two Tums and went downstairs and met up with the cast. 

“Sorry I took so long. Just had to take care of something,” You explained. 

You all piled into limos and drove to the theater. You got a little car sick but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You got onto the carpet and walked side by side with your dad. The paparazzi loved that you and your dad were here together. You didn’t even realize that you were totally color coordinating until Tom had brought it up. 

The camera lights didn’t bother you at first, but the more time had passed, the more photographers had shown up. You started to feel nauseous again and tried to think of an excuse to leave the carpet. You couldn’t think of one in time and ran to try and find the nearest bathroom. Jake became instantly worried and ran after you. You yanked open the door of the nearest bathroom and threw up for the third time that day. You heard Jake calling for you in the hallway. 

You opened the door and he ran over to you. 

He pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head, “Sweetheart what’s wrong? Are you ok?” 

You looked up at him and tears welled up in your eyes, “I haven’t been feeling good these past couple days. I didn’t want to alarm you so I didn’t tell you. I’ve been throwing up all day.” 

Jake bent down to eye level and grabbed your shoulders, “You need to tell me stuff like that. I’m your dad.” 

“I know. I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I know we were both excited to be here tonight and I didn’t want to jeopardize it.” 

Jake rubbed up and down your arms soothingly, “I know you wanted to be here. If you told me sooner I could’ve helped,” He paused and thought for a moment. He wanted you to be here and he wanted to be here but knew you probably would make it ten minutes in without throwing up again, “we’ll have to go back to the hotel now. I’ll get you some stuff and we can have some fun ok?” He asked. 

You sighed. You knew he was right but didn’t want to admit it. Jake stood up and led you out of the theater with a hand in your shoulder. The paparazzi were still focused on the action happening on the carpet. Jake got a taxi and let the rest of the cast know what was happening.

Jake dropped you off at the room and told you to shower and change into some pajamas. He went to the nearest store to get you things that would hopefully make you feel better. You took a long hot shower and changed into one of your dad’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants. You crawled into bed and flipped through the channels on the tv. Once Jake made it back, you had only thrown up once more. He handed you a bottle of Gatorade and a packet of saltine crackers and climbed next to you. You put your head in his shoulder and he moved the hair out of your face. He kissed your temple and grabbed the remote from you. You frowned until you saw what he was doing. He was renting your favorite movie. You cuddled seeping into the blankets and snacked on the crackers. Jake tried to steal one from you, but you slapped his hand away. 

“No! You don’t get one. You're not sick and missing your first premier,” You pouted. 

Jake raised his eyebrows at you. 

“First of all. I bought them for you and second,” he grabbed the one you currently held in your hand, “I have to take care of you now so I should at least get one.” 

You couldn’t argue with that logic. In the past, you were miserable when sick and he knew that you probably wouldn’t want to leave the hotel for a few days. 

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing. You answered it and Tom started rambling. 

“Hey y/n/n. Your room number is 324 right? I knocked and there was no answer. I guess I should’ve figured you were still asleep.” 

“Yes Tom. I was asleep at,” you paused to look at the clock, “seven thirty in the morning,” You hung up and went to the door. You opened the door and saw Tom standing there, “what are you doing up so early?” you asked him. 

He pulled something out of his backpack and handed it to you. “I have an early flight and I needed to give this to you,” he said, handing you the package. He stood there while you opened it. 

You gasped when you saw it was a copy of your movie from last night. You jumped into Tom’s arms and hugged him. 

“Thank you Tom thank you! I’ll make sure we watch this soon.”

Tom hugged you goodbye and left for his flight. Your dad had left some medication for you to take when you woke up and you messed around on your phone until Jake had finally woken up. You showed him the present from Tom and he played it for the both of you. It was definitely worth the wait. 

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @teenage-incompetence

[bubblyani]

Overtime

(Flip Zimmerman x Reader)

A Flip Zimmerman One Shot

Rating: Mature

Request : May I make a request? If you say no that’s just fine! But maybe Flip Zimmerman and the new secretary at the station?@lemonypink

Author’s Note: I could picture this in the movie hahah. Anyways I hope y’all enjoy this.

Tagging: @meta-human-of-221b-ravenclaw

“Y/N! Need a copy of this report please!”

“Sure thing!”

“Hey! Is my handwriting sloppy ? I’ve always wanted to know”

“Well all I will say is ...maybe try writing slower”

“Argh! knew it”

You were full of soft giggles as you typed away in your typewriter. The phone rang with much gusto until you finally picked it up.

“Colorado Springs PD, how may I help you?...” you answered. With habit, you quickly took your notepad with one hand as you listened to the caller, “Uh huh...” you muttered, whilst writing down, “...sure. I will relay the message to him. Thank you for calling!” You said before you hung up.

Apart from the nonstop sounds of countless typewriters being utilized across the whole room, your ears were always brimming with requests, inquiries and complaints from all. Be it officers, detectives and civilians. Why wouldn’t it be? You were a secretary in the Intelligence Division. 

Being mostly surrounded by the detectives in the precinct, you were in the company of quite an interesting bunch.

“Y/N?” Especially One person in particular. “Yes Flip?”

Cheerfully, you greeted. Wearing one of his signature flannel shirts, Detective Flip Zimmerman stood in front of your desk there with his partner Jimmy Creek. “...Could you help me draft a letter to the sergeant, please?”

“Sure thing Flip...” you said, flipping into a new page in the notepad, “I’m just gonna need some details” you continued, “What is this pertaining to?”

“It’s about my resignation”

The pen suddenly dropped out of your hand.

“Your WHAT??“ You yelled out. Never did you think you’d be this loud as you were just now.

Finally unable to contain himself, Jimmy burst into laughter, forcing Flip and the others to join him. Upon realizing their scheme, you scowled.

“Not funny gentlemen” you said sternly, getting up from your chair. “Awww...you should have seen the look on your face” “Well, good for you Jimmy!” You said sarcastically, with your arms folded, watching Jimmy reenact your reaction to the rest of the gang. Shaking your head, you smiled eventually, finding the humor in the situation as you sat down. These men may be detectives, but the inner child had never left their bodies. “Sorry about that” Flip said softly, making you realize he was still standing by your desk. He sounded remorseful, you could tell from his voice. “It’s alright” you replied with a chuckle , before you began to type again.   “Didn’t think you’d be so surprised though” he said, watching you work while casually leaning against the desk. “No it’s just-” looking up, you quickly paused upon seeing his face, “....well you’re a good detective. And...it would be a mighty shame to see you go” you said.

“Thanks” With his eyes never leaving yours, he headed over to his own desk.

When it came to the matters of a criminal investigation, withholding information was a resounding no. But when it came to the matters of your heart, you knew it was best to withhold the most intimate details that lingered within. Especially when those details included your deep, affectionate feelings towards Flip Zimmerman.

It was obvious, You were drawn to him from the very first day. Being the first one you’ve encountered in Colorado Springs PD, he left a lasting impression. You could never forget that first day.

“Why are you staring like that?” He said that day, upon finding your eager eyes staring at the Colorado Springs PD signboard outside the building. Blushing with embarrassment, you struggled to answer. “It’s just that...I’ve never worked for Police before. It’s just unbelievable”  You remembered yourself mutter shyly, looking at the tall figure next to you. “Well...believe it. You’re one of us now”He said, before walking away. 

You remembered that small smile he gave. The way he made you feel inclusive with just one line. And the way he looked out for you in the precinct without making you feel you were a pity party.

The silent working hours allowed you to appreciate the handsome man he was. The flannel, the hair, the mustache certainly grew on you, to the point where maintaining eye contact was a difficult task. Possible but difficult. 

Jimmy’s laughter did not seem to fade, causing Rookie detective Ron Stallworth to enter the room with curiosity.

“Morning Everyone” he said looking around.

“Ron...” Jimmy cried out, “...you just missed something hilarious” he said, still in the midst of sniggers. Ron looked quite confused.

“Really?” He asked with a chuckle, “And what is that?”

“My embarrassment...”You answered, shaking your head, inciting more laughter from everyone in the room. 

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

“You always have it up”

“Huh?”

Confused, you looked at Flip from your desk. Running his fingers through his raven hair, his inquisitive expression remained unchanged.

“Your hair...” he said, “It’s always up. Why?”

Feeling your high hair bun on the back of your head, you understood what he meant.

“Well...It’s proper. Isn’t it?” You said.

Being in a workplace, you never intended to look like a distraction. For it was easier to be one as a woman. So you wanted to be far from one. Hair bun, white shirt tucked in a navy blue skirt, you were the definition of proper.

“Y/L/N...” Sergeant Trapp came out of his office. You liked Trapp. He was kind to you. 

“I know this isn’t your usual rodeo but...do you mind staying back tonight for some overtime? Gotta hell a lot of paperwork to finish up”

“Of course sir...” you answered in an instant. You’d rather slave away and finish up the work than leave it hanging for later.

And so you did. Two hours into overtime, you noticed the detectives haven’t left office. Huddled around Stallworth’s desk, Zimmerman, Creek and Trapp were engaged in a serious conversation while Ron was on the phone. From the chatter collected in the room, you were well informed of the current investigation about the clan, the organization. You could not forget Ron’s daring attempt that started the case, and grouped the detectives together. 

“Oh Mr. Duke I’m so glad you asked” Ron said out loud, as he played his redneck persona, “What happened that day, it just boils my blood just thinking about it. Who do those colored folk think they are? Am I right?” Watching the others laugh silently, you could not help but stifle a grin.

“My sister?”

Ron began, suddenly in the mist of thinking, “Pamela? Oh she’s doing great ...” he said, making you furrow your brows with confusion, “In fact, she is dying to talk to you, Sir!” Just like the others, you were very confused. Even more so when Ron was looking directly at you. “You would?” He said, “Aww that would be mighty kind of you sir, let me just grab her” Covering the phone, he sat up, forcing everyone to direct their attention to you.

“Get over here” he mouthed at you. Your eyes widened.

“What?” You mouthed back. Snapping his finger, Flip finally understood what Ron was trying to do. You finally got up as you watched him walk towards you.

“Do it!” Flip said softly.

“Do what?” You asked with genuine confusion while walking with him to Ron’s desk.

“Come on! We’ve seen you do that impression” Ron whispered. He was right. To kill boredom, you would occasionally do an impression of Pamela, Ron’s imaginary sister who claimed to have been accosted by coloreds. You only did it for fun. Never did you think for once it was an audition, and now you were offered the part.

“What? But that’s just crazy” you said.

“This...would be perfect for us. This is gonna help us a lot” Flip said, looking at you. His words did not pressure you. Instead they gently convinced you to see the logic behind all this. Ron’s eyes gleamed as you sighed and took the phone.   “H-Hello?” You answered with a raised voice, “Oh my word...is this really Mr. Duke?” You feigned surprise, letting out an excited laughter. You played along in this game with an unexpected confidence. And Duke seemed to have bought it “Can I just say what an honor it is to hear your voice, Sir!”

Excitement was evident in Ron’s face, while the Sergeant looked surprised. But none of that mattered to you when you saw Flip’s look of admiration, hidden in his face in the form of a small smile.

Grabbing the phone from you, Ron gave you a thumbs up, as he continued the conversation.“Mr. Duke, this is Ron again...” he began, “As much as my sister would love to talk, she’s busy making dinner. Hehe...yes sir...” he said, his voice growing softer “... women sure do belong in the kitchen”

He added, shooting a teasing look at you, watching you roll your eyes and the others silently snigger. But halfway through, you saw Ron’s eyes widen.

“Oh! Really?” He said, “Wow I’d be honored sir. Thank you! Alright, You have a lovely evening too”

Hanging up, everyone held their breath until he finally spoke.

“Well...the big guy’s even more impressed, thanks to you” he said, pointing at you, “...Walter’s gonna give me a call with the meeting details for tonight...Flip, get ready for a Cross Burning” Ron said, setting his gaze over at Zimmerman, who merely nodded. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Y/N...what are you still doing here? Go home. I’ll drop you“

Jimmy may have teased you earlier, but he always had cared for you like a sibling. Hence he was surprised to still find you at the office around midnight.

“No Jim it’s okay...” you said, whilst stifling a yawn, “...got some reports to finish up anyway”

Truthfully, with your experience, finishing up paperwork was easy as pie. But the reason that kept you from leaving had no relation to any form of paperwork whatsoever.

With Flip and Ron out meeting the clan for the Cross Burning, you could not help but worry for Flip’s safety. Tonight especially, more than you ever did before.

Sure, Ron would be there to look out, for him. You knew he had his back. But worrying was never correlated with logic.

With Paperwork completed, You searched for petty excuses to hang around. Anything to keep yourself occupied until you could see him walk in through the door, alive and well.

With your eyelids getting heavy, you were tempted to close them, drifting into sleep. Maybe just 10 minutes, you thought. With your head on the table, you let the exhaustion take charge. 

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

The subtle creaking noises of furniture woke you. Opening your eyes slowly, you sensed that morning had dawned already. The office was empty.

And Flip was standing before you. 

Relief washing over you like cool water over one’s face, you quickly covered  your mouth to wipe away any form of saliva you had. Embarrassingly, you greeted him with a sleepy smile. “The burning went well I’m guessing?”

“Yep...” he said, “although too much burning for my taste”

You sniffed the hot coffee in the air, which got stronger as he handed you a cup full of it.

“Figured You’d need a good wake up” he said, as you accepted it. “Yeah I do, with the accidental sleeping” you chuckled, taking a sip.

“Yeah, plus you...snore” Flip said, finally giving up to sniggers. You dropped your jaw in shock. “What? I do? Oh no...”You cried out frustratingly, laughing alongside him,  “...was I loud ?” You asked in a whisper.

“No...” he said, sitting on your desk, “...of course not”

“Oh good” Shaking your head in disbelief, you casually took off the hairpins off your messy head, letting the cascade of hair flow over your shoulders.

“Wait...” Flip said, “...you got uh...” Reaching out, he casually brushed a strand of hair off your face, which did not alarm you. For all the times you’ve waited for him to do this, you were secretly ecstatic. The moment eyes locked in each other’s, his hand did not leave. Instead his thumb grazed over your left temple. The way he stopped by your cheek, seemed to be a physical way of seeking permission. And your unaffected silence was your consent.

His touch comforted you, and for a man of his stature he was as gentle as he could be. As much as you were silent and welcoming, you wanted to make your intentions clearer. You took a daring risk the moment thumb brushed over your mouth. Pressing your lips against his finger, you embraced it with adoration, making sure he could feel it to the inner core.

And within seconds, your risk was deemed worthy the moment he moved towards you, quickly kissing you on the lips.

A sense of unrealized fulfillment came over you as you kissed Flip Zimmerman. You were excited, invigorated and intoxicated at the same time.

Pulling away, deep breaths were exchanged as foreheads were placed together. “Pretty...” Flip blurted out shyly, “....you look pretty with your hair down” he said, with his fingers tangled in your loose hair. You chuckled. “Thanks...” you said, placing the coffee cup on the table, “....you should see me in my normal clothes..” you joked, “I look much better “ you added with a smile. Flip’s eyes grew warm.

“Yeah I should...” He smiled back, “...maybe when we grab a bite sometime...”

Overjoyed, you kissed him once again with even more enthusiasm, grateful for the overtime work shift that made all this possible. ——————————————————

https://bubblyani.tumblr.com/post/190893189313/driver-masterlist

Check my MASTERLIST for more :)

[psychedaleka]

all my stumbling phrases

an angbang @officialtolkiensecretsanta 2020 gift fic for @celebbun :) hope you enjoy!

Rating: T | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Melkor/Mairon Characters: Melkor, Mairon Word count: 2.7k

Summary: A winter day in Utumno, an outdoor excursion, and a conversation.

---

“You want to do what?” Mairon levels a flat stare at Melkor, who’s looking at him with an expression that would be unreadable to anyone else.

To Mairon, it’s the I-have-an-idea-and-it-just-might-end-in-a-disaster look.

“Strap knives to our feet and glide on ice,” Melkor says, matter of fact, as though it’s something that anyone would think to do.

read the rest on ao3! or below the cut

Mairon sets down his quill and closes the inventory records. The cover slams shut with a bang. He can feel a headache building. No—not a headache. Not exactly. But it’s an ache of some sort, something he can’t put into words. The feeling he keeps getting whenever he’s in the same room as Melkor but like he doesn’t know what he should do, what he should say.

Like he’s flustered.

Mairon has never been flustered in his life.

“You need a break,” Melkor says. “You’ve been staring at that for how long now, a week?”

“Less than a day, for this particular record,” Mairon corrects. “I have been auditing your storerooms for a week.”

“Exactly!” Melkor says. “Does it matter if we have 3400 or 3401 shields?”

“Yes,” Mairon says, but doesn’t bother to offer more explanation.

He wants to double check and cross reference the math, because it’s simple, and straightforward, and if there’s something he doesn’t recognize, there’s inevitably a solution.

It distracts him, too, from staring at Melkor too much, from watching everything he does. It is probably, Mairon tells himself, that Melkor is a Valar, and he commands attention. There’s no other possible explanation as to why Mairon might lose track of everything else when he’s around.

“Listen,” Melkor says, shifting tactics, “the inventories will keep for another day. Just give an order that whichever storeroom you’re investigating shouldn’t be touched, and come back to it later. It isn’t as though the shields will run away.”

Mairon considers it.

“Fine,” he says.

“Excellent!” Melkor says. “Now, I have some ideas about how we could achieve this—”

Of course, those ideas happen to be Melkor describing what he wants to achieve, and Mairon scrambling to find a way to realize it. It’s very typical, and Mairon’s used to it now.

Melkor’s a big picture thinker, and that was what drew Mairon to him in the beginning. Mairon can’t really complain about that now. Even if Melkor occasionally shows up to dump a pile of half formed plans and ideas on him, leaving him to drop what he’s doing and piece together the scraps and trace Melkor’s—often disjointed—logic.

Even so, Mairon’s quite pleased with the end result—ice skates, they’ll probably be called. The blade is separate from the shoe, with a platform that attaches to the sheo by two leather straps. The blade is not as sharp as the knives Mairon prefers, no, but it will glide across ice and support the wearer’s weight.

It will help with icy expeditions and complaints that frozen lakes are impossible to cross.

“All that’s left to do is test them,” Mairon tells Melkor, who’s been sitting on a bench in his—no, the forge, Mairon can’t forget that it technically doesn’t belong to him. Melkor’s presence has surprised and scared quite a few of the other maiar and a not insignificant number of orcs. “I’m certain I’ll be able to find a few orcs willing to volunteer—”

“No, no,” Melkor says. “Let’s go test them.”

Mairon opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“I have work to do,” he says, a weak excuse.

“Get someone else to do it,” he says. “Surely, counting can’t be so difficult a task that you need to attend to it?”

“No one will organize the storerooms in the optimal configuration,” Mairon says.

“Optimal configuration, you say,” Melkor says, and Mairon knows he’s laughing at him, but he doesn’t say anything. “It can be just the two of us.”

Mairon tries to parse the implications of that sentence.

“Besides, I’m bored,” Melkor continues.

Mairon remembers the last time Melkor had been bored. It involved several explosions, a near incomprehensible scoreboard, and half a year to clean up. Mairon considers it, and looks up at Melkor—who seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

“Fine,” Mairon says. Productivity in the forges has been down, anyways, since Melkor first started watching him work on the ice skates. His normally competent assistants have ruined a batch of swords, broken three hammers, and nearly dropped a ton of molten iron on the ground. He needs to get Melkor out of here before his presence causes a larger disaster.

“I knew you would agree eventually.”

There are underground lakes and rivers beneath the foundation of Utumno, used for the drinking and other miscellaneous needs of the fortress’ inhabitants. It’s liquid year round, even in the middle of winter, insulated from the aboveground temperature by layers of rock. The paths to this reservoir are many, but it’s not there that they head for, and for that, Mairon is secretly glad. The last thing he needs is to field panicked reports of the plumbing not working because Melkor had frozen the whole thing. Even if he had designed and tested it himself.

Some distance from Utumno is a lake, nestled between mountain peaks. Fed by rainwater and melting snow from the mountains, it had formed when the Lamps were destroyed.

It was also where Mairon had landed, when he came to Utumno permanently.

It’s there that Melkor leads him, now, some distance away from straying gazes and open ears.

The surface of the lake is frozen over, in a layer of clear ice.

“Will the ice hold?” Mairon asks.

“One way to find out,” Melkor says, and Mairon fights the urge to tell him that there absolutely are more ways to find out. “You first.”

Mairon’s already come this far. He might as well—and if he falls over, well, there’s no one around to see except Melkor, and he doesn’t care if he embarasses himself in front of Melkor.

That’s a lie. He cares very much of what Melkor thinks about him.

Mairon straps the skates to his shoes with cold fingers. He should have brought gloves.

It isn’t difficult to balance on solid ground, but the moment Mairon steps onto the ice, he slips and falls. He can hear Melkor’s muffled laughter.

Well, he thinks, at least Melkor has the awareness to muffle his laughter—as though that’s any better.

His cheeks flush red, and it’s not just because of the cold.

He pushes himself up from the ice. His fingers are cold. This time, Mairon manages to stay upright for a few more seconds, but when he starts trying to move, he’s wobbly and falls soon after. He scrambles for a few seconds, trying to push himself up again, before Melkor interjects.

“Need some help?” Melkor asks, gliding on the second pair of skates as though this isn’t his first time skating. Melkor offers an arm, and Mairon clings to it, dragging himself up.

“Thanks,” Mairon says.

“Here, hold my hands,” Melkor says. “You won’t fall over as much.”

“Perhaps it’s a design flaw,” Mairon says, trying to concentrate on something other than how close Melkor is. “How much balance is needed to effectively operate them, I mean.”

“I don’t think so,” Melkor says. “All you need is some practice.”

Melkor starts skating backwards, slowly—the showoff—and he takes Mairon with him. Mairon glides, pulled along by Melkor, inexorably drawn by his trajectory, trusting him not to lead Mairon to a fall.

“See, it isn’t so hard,” Melkor says. “Why don’t you try?”

Mairon lets go of Melkor’s hands—reluctantly, and he doesn’t want to think of the implications of that. He wobbles along, for a short while—he’s getting better, he thinks—and falls. Again.

Melkor muffles his laughter, again, as Mairon drags himself up.

“Not all of us have your sense of balance,” Mairon says, annoyed.

“Oh, yes, I’m very well aware,” Melkor says, not bothering to hide his grin.

Mairon glares at him.

“Here, we can keep holding hands,” Melkor says. “Let’s go around the lake.”

Mairon casts a glance at the other shore of the lake, barely lit by starlight filtering through a thick layer of clouds.

“Are you sure the ice will hold?” Mairon asks.

“Oh, yes,” Melkor says. “There shouldn’t be any issues.”

A few hours later, Mairon is chilled to the bone and decently competent at skating.

“That was fun,” Melkor says.

“More importantly, the skates are tested,” Mairon says.

Melkor stares at him, for a long moment.

“What?” Mairon asks.

“Did you really think this was about testing skates?” Melkor asks.

“Yes?” Mairon says. “What else?”

“You and I, spending some time together,” Melkor says.

“We spend plenty of time together,” Mairon says. “When you come and watch me work, when I report to you about the status of Utumno—”

“No,” Melkor says. “Not about work. On a personal basis.”

Mairon blinks.

On a personal basis? What could Melkor want from him ‘on a personal basis?’

He asks as much, but Melkor doesn’t answer that question.

“You were unhappy in Almaren,” Melkor says, a statement more than a question. “That was easy to tell. But harder, I think, to tell if you’re happy here.”

A pause.

“Mairon, are you happy?”

“Yes?” Mairon answers. He doesn’t know why Melkor would ask him this.

“I mean it,” Melkor says. “If there’s anything you dislike—if there’s anything that you want to be different, don’t hesitate to change it.”

There is. There is that maddeningly incomprehensible feeling he gets when he’s around Melkor, but that’s not something he can articulate, let alone make concrete plans for.

“I hadn’t thought my personal wellbeing mattered to you,” Mairon says, instead.

“Why would it not?”

“Because—well, because you’re you, and I’m me,” Mairon answers.

“That’s not an answer.”

“As though you haven’t been giving me non answers the whole day.”

“Like for what question?”

“What do you want from me on a personal basis?”

Melkor—for probably the first time in his very long life—thinks about what he says before he says it.

“The work you have done for me is commendable,” Melkor says. “The structure, organizational, and technological improvements have been greatly beneficial to my forces, and I—would not have been able to achieve these changes without you. But what you could do for me was not the only reason I wanted you to be mine.”

What other reason could there be, Mairon thinks, but doesn’t ask.

“I—” Melkor glances around, as though someone could be eavesdropping on their conversation— “I love you.”

Mairon stands there, frozen, not just because of the cold.

He opens his mouth, and closes it.

“You—what?” Mairon asks, finally, when the implications of what Melkor just said hits him. “I—what?”

Melkor turns sharply, skates grinding across the ice. There’s tension in his shoulders.

“Forget it,” he says. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, I—” Mairon falls silent. He doesn’t know how to proceed.

“We ought to return,” Melkor says.

The thing is: Mairon doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to go back to his inventories and reports. He wants to stay out here, even though he’s freezing cold, because—because—because—

Because Melkor is here, with him. With only him.

But Melkor is skating towards the opposite end of the lake, and Mairon rushes to follow.

Only—he shifts his weight, and there’s a cracking noise, and before Mairon can realize what’s happened, the ice breaks beneath him, swallowing him beneath the icy water.

Mairon is a Maia, and he doesn’t need anything as paltry as oxygen, but he’s exhausted from his week of auditing, and trying to ensure the forges don’t fall to chaos as he and Melkor design the ice skates, and the cold air while he skated, and the love confession, and the icy shock.

Mairon is a Maia, but his nature is that of fire and stone, and he doesn’t do well with cold water.

He slips into unconsciousness.

The next thing Mairon is aware of is a heavy weight on his body, and the fact that he is lying on something soft. He blinks his way to wakefulness, slowly, slowly, and the world around him sharpens in degrees.

He’s lying on a bed—a feather bed, with stuffed pillows, underneath several layers of thick blankets. The bed frame is carved dark wood, and the richly embroidered curtains are half closed, giving him a faint view of the room outside. There’s a roaring fire opposite him, with the faint smell of wood smoke, and tapestries hanging on the stone walls.

This isn’t his room, with his sparse cot and makeshift blankets that he had chosen over a proper bed.

Mairon sits upright, too quickly.

The room is empty. He had hoped it wouldn’t be.

Mairon tries, desperately, to parse what happened.

Melkor had said he loved him. He loved him.

Mairon had thought—this was impossible, not because Aule had implied Melkor was incapable of love, but because Mairon was a Maia, and Melkor’s subordinate, and—

He had rejected that possibility, and his own feelings, because he never thought it would be possible.

But it isn’t impossible. It isn’t even improbable.

It happened. Melkor had said he loved him.

And Mairon had—he flops back down onto the bed. Mairon had frozen, entirely.

He lies there, for a few more minutes, before making up his mind. He needs to do something about this.

He pushes himself out of bed—maybe too fast, because the world swoops around him.

A hand catches his arm, pulls him upright.

“Careful there,” Melkor says, standing right next to Mairon. He’s watching Mairon, with an expression that is utterly unreadable to Mairon.

Mairon doesn’t like it.

“What happened?”

“You fell into the lake,” Melkor says, and Mairon thinks Melkor should be amused, he should find it funny that Mairon actually fell into the lake after worrying that he would, but Melkor isn’t laughing.

He looks dead serious.

“I thought you said the ice would hold,” Mairon says, because he doesn’t like this. He wants Melkor to be making fun of him.

“If you’re implying that I deliberately made you fall in—”

“Did you?”

“No!” Melkor snaps.

Is he angry? Mairon doesn’t know. He sits down—and something in him says, this is improper, you shouldn’t be sitting when he isn’t, but Mairon’s passed improper hours ago.

“It was very cold,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Melkor doesn’t respond. “Where am I?”

“My rooms,” Melkor says. “Yours were hardly sufficient. You don’t even have a bed.”

He sounds—annoyed? Angry on Mairon’s behalf? Mairon isn’t sure why, except—the words I love you rings in his mind, and Mairon wonders, then, if Melkor cares about him beyond the way a lord should for his servant.

But of course, Mairon chides himself.

“Perhaps I should start stealing your bed,” Mairon says, after far too long a silence.

Melkor doesn’t respond to that.

“I should go,” Mairon says, but he makes no move to leave.

But Melkor doesn’t make him leave.

“I love you too,” Mairon blurts out. He should be leaving. He should really, really be leaving. But when he makes for the door, Melkor stops him with a firm grip on his arm.

“Don’t say that just because you feel obligated to,” Melkor says.

“I’m not,” Mairon says, feeling the room grow several degrees warmer. Or maybe it’s just his face. “I don’t—feel obligated to—I just. Wanted to tell you how I felt. Feel. Still do.”

Melkor brushes a thumb across Mairon’s cheekbone.

Then Melkor kisses him.

After an eternity, and too short a time, they pull away from each other.

“You can steal my bed anytime you’d like,” Melkor says, with a wink.

Mairon, flustered, is speechless.

“My auditing,” Mairon says.

“Forget about it,” Melkor says. “You can easily go back to it tomorrow. Stay here. With me.”

With him.

“Sure,” Mairon says. “What do you want to do?”

Melkor’s watching Mairon with his I-have-an-idea look. But this time, it just might not end in a disaster.

[writingsoftheghost]

This is based on a prompt I saw about when Virgil got punched in the face during the cartoon episode.

The makeup brush stings against the gash and covers the bruise decently. Virgil admires his work in the mirror. Not bad.

It’s only been two days since Thomas punched him, Virgil does his best not to feel too hurt by it. He is the villain, after all. It’s all In a days work. He still feels horrible, but the lie helps.

He heads out into the main mindscape, Thomas has some deadlines. “A villain’s work is never done,” he thinks to himself bitterly.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greets him. Virgil flinches, he wasn’t prepared for a welcome, “Whatcha up to?”

“Thomas needs to get some work done, I’ve gotta make sure everyone does their jobs.” Virgil replies nonchalantly.

“Oh, yeah! Good lookin’ out, we all like to procrastinate a little too much around here!” Patton beams at him, “I’ll come with you, maybe I can help out!”

“Uh...sure...” Virgil is unsure how else to react, “Whatever.” He waves his hand in an effort to regain his composure.

They walk into the common room, Roman is watching a movie on the TV and Logan is absentmindedly flipping through a book.

“Hello, Anxiety,” Logan says, not even looking up, “You’re right on time.”

“Ugh!” Roman groans with an eye roll, “To what do we owe the pleasure?” The venom in his voice is strong enough to kill an elephant.

“Thomas needs a new video idea, and there’s the audition the day after tomorrow.” Virgil replies cooly. “I know you’re so busy, but this is rather important.” He retorts with a glare.

“For your information, Anxiety, this is a part of my process! Not that you would know anything about the creative process!”

“Hey, hey, Ro, there’s no need for that,” Patton quickly steps between the two. “Anxiety, was only trying to help.”

“Oh, sure, take his side!” Roman groans with an eye roll.

“That’s because he is merely doing his job, which, as you can see by the fact that he had to remind us of our obligations, is absolutely essential,” Logan says calmly.

Virgil looks back and forth between Patton and Logan, why were they defending him? Weren’t they just as annoyed by his presence as Roman was?

“Ugh, whatever,” he stands up and stares down Virgil, “I’ll work if that’s what you really want.”

“It’s the only reason I’m here,” Virgil says, shooting him a pair of finger guns.

“Great! So now you can leave,” Roman says coldly.

“As you wish, your highness.” Virgil shoots back sarcastically. He’s about to sink out when Patton grabs his hoodie. Virgil lets out a panicked hiss as he jerks himself away from the fatherly trait.

“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to startle ya.” Virgil is still breathing rather shallowly. “I just thought it’d be better if you stayed?”

Virgil is still on edge, Logan is watching him slowly. A look on his face that Virgil has never seen directed at him before, concern? No, that doesn’t make any sense.

“Anxiety?” Logan calls to get his attention, “Breathe with me, please.” Not a request but a command. If he didn’t need it Virgil might’ve disobeyed just to spite the logical side. Instead, he inhales as Logan does, and doesn’t exhale until he does. He looks over and notices Princey staring at them both, an unreadable expression on his face.

After Virgil’s breathing has returned to normal, Patton attempts to gently lead him toward the couch. Virgil shrugs off all attempts at physical comfort, no use forcing Morality to treat him so delicately.

“Th-there’s work to do,” Virgil attempts to regain his assertive tone.

“In a minute, kiddo. Are you okay?” Patton reaches his hand toward him again and Virgil pulls away.

“It doesn’t matter, we have deadlines,” his tone is hard now.

“Anxiety,” Logan’s closed his book now and is staring worriedly at the anxious trait, “It is important for you to take care of yourself. Your health, both mental and physical, matters.”

Virgil stares at him blankly, it takes him a moment to shake away the soft feeling Logan’s words bring him. He doesn’t mean them, he just needs Virgil to be able to do his job.

“Can we stop with the sharing circle now?” Virgil says with a snarky tone, “I’m fine. And we still have deadlines to meet!”

“Okay, but if you need a—”

“No, lets get cracking then!” Virgil quickly cuts Patton off.

He and Logan exchange glances, but Virgil trudges on.

“Okay, Princey! Ideas! Go!” He calls to Roman who’s been awfully quiet.

“How about you go back to your room? How’s that for an idea?”

“Roman!” Patton cries.

“No, Pat, look at him. He’s clearly not up for this right now and I don’t think we’re helping!” Virgil tenses up and quickly drags his hair into his eyes to mask his face. “He’s sweating kind of a lot, and he looks paler than usual.” Roman continues.

Virgil self consciously drags his sleeve over his face in an attempt to mop up the sweat, it must be pretty hard too because it stings quite a bi—oh. Oh no.

The bruise, the busted open gash. The makeup’s gone. He quickly places his hand over his face. He quickly thinks of an excuse.

“If-” he clears his throat “-if you want me gone so bad then I’ll go, just get your work done.”

He starts to sink out again, but is stopped by Patton yet again. Thankfully not physically this time.

“Wait!” Virgil stops, his hand still covering his face.

“Are you bleeding? Move your hand,” Patton quickly advanced on the side.

Apparently Virgil really has wiped his face with too much force, he’d reopened the gash.

“It’s nothing, just makeup.” He tries to sink out again but Patton has already crossed the living room and is examining Virgil’s face.

“Kiddo! What happened!” He gently tries to move Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s too tired to resist and merely drops it to his side.

“Oh, goodness, Kiddo, let’s get that taken care of.” He snaps his fingers and a first aid kit appears in his hands.

“No,” Virgil puts his hands up, but Patton is still trying to examine his face. “No!” Patton freezes, Virgil’s voice shakes the walls, Superimposed over itself.

“I. Don’t. Need. Any. Help.” Virgil grits out. Patton looks at him, a worried expression plastered onto his face.

“I-I know, kiddo. I just...I just wanna make it easier. I know you don’t need it, but please? Just let me take care of this for you?”

His pleading eyes are what do Virgil in, curse his soft spot for Patton.

“As long as it doesn’t take too long,” he says with a sigh.

Patton beams at him, “I’ll be done in a jiffy!” He quickly ushers Virgil back to the couch.

After he’s got Virgil settled on the couch he starts taking out various different items from the kit.

He pauses and Virgil can see how nervous he is to ask Virgil his next question.

“Can you take the rest of your makeup off for me? Please? Just until I’m done? I don’t wanna get any of it in the cut.” He rattles off quickly.

Virgil sighs, “Alright.” Patton relaxes as Virgil snaps his makeup off.

Virgil quickly notices everyone else still in the room. They’re both staring at him. He shrugs down self consciously.

“What are you two staring at?” He growls, but there’s no bite in it.

“Erm-” Logan clears his throat “-my apologies, Anxiety, it’s merely that we’ve never seen you without your makeup.”

Roman seems to come to his senses then, “Yeah, uhm, you look different.” Virgil covers his face. “No no no,” Roman rushes hastily, “Not in a bad way, it’s just, uhm...”

“We have the same face, Princey.” Virgil says with an eye roll. It’s not necessarily true, they all have subtle differences. Like Logan’s hair, Patton’s freckles, or Roman’s muscles. Virgil is a lot thinner than they are and his eyes are darker.

“Okay,” Patton says breathlessly, “Let’s get this cleaned up now.”

Virgil winces as Patton gingerly wipes a disinfectant wipe over the cut. Patton keeps running his hand up and down Virgil’s arm, it’s incredibly distracting and Virgil can’t figure out why he’s doing it.

“You wanna tell me what happened now?” Patton asks softly after he’s finished placing a bandage on Virgil’s cheek. Virgil hadn’t realized how close Patton had gotten, he was surprised that he didn’t mind. He felt rather relaxed which was unusual. Which is probably why he told the truth.

“Thomas punched me,” he says calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What?! When?” Patton’s horrified voice cuts through Virgil’s calm mind turning it back into the usual anxious frenzy.

Roman’s looking at him in disbelief, “It left a mark?”

“It’s not a big deal!” Virgil rushes out, “It was when we were cartoons! It’s not like he knew this would happen!”

Patton places his hand back on Virgil’s arm and resumes his gentle stroking, he starts talking to Virgil in a quieter voice, “It is a big deal, Thomas doesn’t know what this did. He could do it again if we don’t tell him.”

“He probably will do it again if we do,” Virgil mumbles.

“Anxiety!” Virgil flinches back when Patton yells, “Sorry, sorry,” Patton attempts to coax Virgil back into a relaxed position on the couch, “I don’t think Thomas would hit you if he knew it’d actually hurt you, we were cartoons, he didn’t know. No one ever gets hurt in cartoons!”

“It’s okay, Patton. I am the bad guy, this is a natural response.”

Patton shakes his head, “I’m his morality, Virgil. I know you’ve never done anything to warrant this.” His hand is still stroking Virgil’s arm and it’s making it harder for Virgil to argue. He doesn’t want Patton to stop, and all he can think about is how he could get him to continue for a bit longer.

“I’m gonna go tell Thomas, M’kay?” Patton whispers quietly.

“No! You can’t tell him!” Virgil’s off the couch in an instant and standing over Patton, “He doesn’t need to know!”

“Yes, he does, kiddo,” Patton tries to get Virgil back on the couch but he shakes him off.

“No ones telling him, thanks for patching up my face,” he sinks out before anyone can stop him this time.

Roman looks at Patton, a stony expression on his face, “I’ll tell Thomas, you go check on him.”

[princess-of-riviaa]

The Tonight Show

Request 1 by anonymous: Hi hi my darling! How are you? I hope you're ok and I hope you have a great weekend. So, I've never requested anything before, and it's ok if you don't appreciate what I'm about to ask, but I've never seen anyone writing about a hot night with Henry in Brazil. You know what I mean? Summer, samba, the sea, caipirinha, that mystic moonlight (he loves Brazil, and Brazil LOVES him). Thanks for reading 💙

Request 2 by @lunedelorient​: Reader writes a fantasy book. Henry discovers the story and convince Charlie, they have to produce a movie. Both met Reader, and Henry falls madly in love for her, (because she is as awesome as her book). And filming just made them closer and closer. Charlie, who knows his bro likes her (but is too scared that this doesn’t work like his other relationships) starts to give her clues, and since she likes him back, decided to let him know he can ask her out. On a very sexy way. The movie is a hit, so they have a very busy promo tour. One of the stops is Lipsync Battle. Henry doesn’t know she is the queen of Lipsync, so she used it for her plan.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Melanie)

Author’s Note: i’m so sorry if I didn’t get your requests down just right. I allowed the story to flow how it wanted to and this was what happened! So I hope you both still enjoy!

Summary: Henry finds himself falling for the writer of the latest film he’s working on. One night in Brazil, those feelings are finally acted on.

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol, fluff (surprisingly)

Word Count: 1,568

HENRY

She circles her hips, and I swear I’m hypnotized. The way she moves… it’s like the music is a part of her, flowing from her swaying hips and shaking arms. She’s a fucking goddess.

I move in my seat, hoping my hard on isn’t obvious under these low streetlights. Brazil was a bad idea. This girl is full of bad ideas, yet for some reason I seem to go along with every single one.

It started with that stupid interview. I should have known she was up to no good when I first saw her in that tight cocktail dress that did nothing to hide the teasing shape of her ass and the luscious bounce of her tits. I’d ignored my feelings up until then; but on the night, she was irresistible.

I guess if I’m going to explain myself, I should start at the beginning. Ten months before the interview. The day the script for A Hunted Crown landed in front of me and my casting agent convinced me to go for the lead role. It was a brilliant script, full of twists and heart-wrenching scenes, as well as characters that jumped off the page and became real, fleshed-out people. According to my agent, the book this movie was based on was even better. So, obviously, I had to audition. There was no way I would give up a chance to be a part of something like this. Not only could it make my career, but as a fantasy lover I know that finding a genuine story these days is harder than finding a needle in a haystack.

The only problem: she was at the audition. Her pseudonym was Little Lady, but I learned that day that her real name was Melanie. I was a few years her senior, but damn if she didn’t make me feel like I knew nothing about the world. Not in a condescending way--she was so sweet and genuine, it was adorable--but in a way that she knew so much about everything and I knew so little compared to her. I spent most of our brief, five-minute conversation trying not to gape in awe at her brilliance. I was glad she wasn’t in the actual audition room, otherwise I would have been too distracted to do my audition any good.

But five days later I got the call; I’d been casted as the main character. Cue three months of training and six months of filming. Melanie was on set everyday. She became a familiar face I enjoyed seeing all the time. We bonded through our love of fantasy and other nerdy things. Though I quickly began to memorize trivial things like how she ate a green apple with her lunch everyday, or how she giggled uncontrollably when she was tired after a tedious day of reshoots, or how her clumsiness made me yearn to look out for and protect her, I forced myself to stay focused on the film. Just get through filming, then I can let my mind wander.

Filming ended too soon. I found myself grateful that she was going to Brazil with the main cast to promote the movie (we’d shot ninety percent of the film in the mountains of Serra do Mar, just outside Rio, and the director had roots there, so we were doing half our promoting there and the rest of it back in the states) and even happier when they paired me with her for almost every interview we did.

Until The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallen. He had us do a lip sync battle. On his show, it was a tradition that he battled against his guest for the night, but since he had both me and Melanie, we were put against each other. And of course she had to choose songs that weren’t even discreet about all their sexual innuendos, and of course it had to be right then and there that I learned she knew how to move her body. It took everything in me not to drag her backstage and take her right then. Somehow, though, I managed to contain myself. I lost the battle, but for once in my life I had been too preoccupied with other things to care about winning.

I won’t be able to contain myself tonight. Not with how she’s dancing. Not with the way she’s looking directly at me, like she’s doing all of this for me. Not with how hard I already am.

… MELANIE

My pulse races, though I know it’s not from all the dancing. It’s from Henry. It’s from the way he’s looking at me right now--like he wants to devour me. The look makes adrenaline pump through my veins, mixed with just the right amount of nerves, and I force all of that into the dance. One thing most people don’t know about me is I dance as well as I write. Henry is completely entranced by my movements and something in the air--maybe it’s the amount of beer we’ve already had, or all the couples grinding and making out around us, or just the romantic atmosphere of Brazil itself--tells me that tonight I’m finally going to get what I’ve been waiting for.

I reach out for his hand and drag him from his seat before he can protest or I can think logically about what I’m about to do. I lead him to the middle of the dancing crowd before starting to dance again. He hesitantly begins to dance along with me. Before my mind can halt me in my tracks, I turn my back to him and begin to dance in front of him, swaying my hips like I’m dangling a treat in front of his nose. I gasp when I feel his hands slide around my hips and pull me against him. We fall into a steady rhythm, swaying our hips together, and with every movement my heart beats harder in my chest.

Henry nudges my ear with his nose, sending a shiver down my spine as he tells me, “I never knew you could dance like this.”

I throw my head back until it rests on his shoulder, his thick muscles flexing and unflexing with each of his movements. “You never asked,” I reply. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Henry.”

His right hand lets go of my hip and moves to rest on my stomach. My back is now flush with his chest. It’s an intimate gesture, one that sends heat straight to my face and my core. Butterflies dance just under my skin where his hand rests. I want to know how it will feel when he moves his hand lower.

“I want to know those things. I want to know you inside and out, Melanie,” he whispers in my ear, and I become a puddle of desperate want.

I spin around to face him, my lips parting when I see how dark his gaze has become--and how he can’t look anywhere but at my lips. He closes the distance between us until we share one breath.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t,” I reply, my voice shaking. “I’m not a liar.”

And then he closes that last half-inch of space between us and brushes his mouth against mine. It’s a hesitant kiss, a mere brush of two nervous mouths, but my heart is still in my throat and my hands are still shaking at my sides. Henry finally closes his mouth over mine and deepens the kiss, applying much needed pressure to my mouth. An embarrassing moan claws its way from the back of my throat. Henry can no doubt hear it. But instead of laughing or pulling away, he wraps an arm around my back and pulls me as tight against him as I can possibly be. My hands reach up to cling onto his dark curls. He whispers a soft fuck and I swallow the noise greedily. Our tongues collide and make a dance of their own--a dance of giving and taking, of claiming and exploring.

Henry pulls back, albeit reluctantly, and rests his forehead against mine. We both stand in silence for a minute, attempting to catch our breath. “We should go back to the hotel,” Henry sighs.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

How the hell can one kiss be that mind-blowing? I can barely think, barely stand without my legs shaking, barely breathe. I never want him to stop kissing me.

He gives me a soft smile as his fingers loop through mine and he guides me out of the crowd and back onto emptier streets. The hotel is only two blocks away so we walk back in tense silence. Everyone--the director, the three main actors of the movie, and me--all have our own rooms, but tonight I stay in Henry’s. It’s the same as mine--single bed, bedside table, bathroom--but it’s so much more appealing than my room. Maybe it’s because, after a week of staying here, the smell of Henry is in the sheets.

“Do you want to stay?” he asks as we make our way inside.

I nod a simple yes at him. That’s all he needs before he kisses me again, slowly moving towards the bed.

Neither one of us get any sleep that night. I couldn’t be happier about it.

***

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[percontaion-points]

Handbook for Mortals chapter 1

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 1

I have to admit that I’ve always found something handsome about a man in show

blacks. Perhaps it’s the artsy answer to a man in uniform, or maybe I’m just odd.

I SWEAR TO GOD, IF SOMEBODY SHOWS UP WEARING A BERET AND TRIES TO READ POETRY (WHICH YOU KNOW WILL BE TERRIBLE), I'M GOING TO SCREAM.

Walking closely with Charles and Sofia was the handsome tech who had caught my eye earlier. Probably in his late 20s, he was also wearing show blacks, and frowning. His sandy-blondish brown hair framed his face perfectly, and his hazel eyes seemed to sparkle. He was slender and tall, definitely six feet if not an inch or so more, with just the right amount of muscle in his arms.

At this point, I'm surprised that the author didn't literally just tell the readers “this is going to be the love interest”.

He was slender and tall, definitely six feet if not an inch or so more, with just the right amount of muscle in his arms. You know, just enough to grab you and hold you tight— but not enough to look like he was stung by a bee and was allergic.

Oh my god.

“Zade, hi. I’m Pete Trigger, but some people call me Trig. I’ll answer to Pete or Trig just not Mr. Trigger cause that’s my dad and it sounds like a dead horse.”

I don't know about the rest of you, but when I'm writing, I like to say stuff out loud to make sure that it flows well.

This is some of the most goddamned awkward writing that I've ever had the misfortune to see.

“You remembered her name. You never remember names.”

I turned my eyes toward them and caught Charles’s reply, “Most people’s names aren’t worth remembering.”

“OF COURSE I'M GOING TO REMEMBER THE NAME OF THE MAIN CHARACTER. Hahaha, I'm a two-bit minor character.”

As I plummeted toward the stage, brightly colored sparks began to shoot from my outstretched hands. The sparks fell and hit the ground ahead of me, becoming a roaring fire directly beneath me. The fire burned a brilliant red, spreading and growing below me.

I love how she showed up for this audition and there's already perfectly timed pyrotechnics set up for her.

Like this isn't how any of this works.

If this is an actual magical spell that she's doing, then fine. But this is just fucking stupid.

Like those stage hands would be rushing to put out what must appear to them to be a spontaneous stage fire.

I would soon learn that Tad was Mac’s best friend, an all-around good guy who worked well with everyone. In theory, Mac was Tad’s boss, but they had been working together for a long time and had been friends for much longer.

Like with chapter 0, this chapter is just bogged down with all of this random tidbit info. And I'm kind of sitting here going “I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this info. Is this going to be relevant? We literally just met these people and I kind of don't care.”

It wouldn’t have made logical sense no matter how hard they tried to figure it out because it was beyond anything a mortal could do.

No no, I fucking got that, thanks.

I decided I would double check with whatever lawyer I went to, and I’d ask the cards. I wasn’t really concerned with it that much. I already had what I wanted; I had made myself a new life:

A somewhat normal life.

Chapter 1 summary: Zade gets to Vegas, where she seems to have set up an audition with some guy that she knew ahead of time, Charles. He runs some sort of multi-act magician show there.

As I mentioned earlier, there's a lot of info that's presented in this chapter, but like chapter 0, a lot of it is this completely worthless fluff that should have been cut. Lines of dialogue, characters attempting to have a conversation, are divided by long paragraphs describing the physical appearances of all characters, and the backgrounds of those Zade deemed “worthy of her attention”.

She eventually goes up onto the catwalk, where she then takes an intentional swan-dive off from it and onto the stage. However, the stage is then replaced with a hidden pool. All of which she does with literal magic, rather than stage magic.

And everybody is impressed with it, and they've never seen anything like it and we're going to offer you a million and one dollars because we're so impressed! And the entire thing makes me want to hurl with how SPECIAL that Zade is.

[addictedtoeddie]

The full Esquire Spain interview translated from Spanish:  

Eddie Redmayne trial: guilty of being the most talented (and stylish) actor of his generation

The Oscar winner talks about what it means to premiere a film with Aaron Sorkin (The Chicago 7th Trial on Netflix) and filming the new part of the most famous saga of all time under the watchful eye of its author, J.K. Rowling.

By Alba Díaz (text) / JUANKR (photos and video) / Álvaro de Juan (styling) 10/23/2020  

At the Kettle’s Yard Gallery in Cambridge, stands alone and leaning on a piano Prometheus, a marble head made by Constantin Brâncusi, and the only piece of art that Eddie Redmayne (London, 1982) would save from possible massive destruction. He tells me about it as he leaves the filming set of the third installment of Fantastic Beasts in the early days of an autumn that, we suspect, we will never forget. It begins to get dark as the actor nods seriously: "I promise to do my best in this interview."

Eddie Redmayne made himself in the theater despite some voices warning him that he could not survive in it. "Many people were in charge to tell me that it would never work, that only extraordinary cases make it and that I would not be able to live from this professionally." Even his father came home one day with a list of statistics on unemployed young actors. Redmayne, who is extremely modest, polite and funny, adds: “But I enjoyed theater so much that I got to the point of thinking that if I could only do one play a year for the rest of my life… I would do it. And that would fill me completely.

Spoiler: since then until today he has participated in many more. He set his first foot in the industry when he debuted at the Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and won over critics and audiences. He then landed his first major role in My Week with Marilyn opposite Michelle Williams. And then came one of the roles of his life, the character he wanted to become an actor for, Marius. With him he sang, led a revolution and broke Cosette's heart in Les Miserables. “I found out about the Les Misérables auditions when I was shooting a movie in Illinois. Dressed like a cowboy. I picked up the iPhone and videotaped myself singing the Marius song. I always wanted to be him ”.

Now Redmayne is an Oscar winner - thanks to his portrayal of Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything - and the protagonist of one of the most important sagas in history, Fantastic Beasts. He plays the magizoologist Newt Scamander in it. When I ask him what it means to him to be the protagonist of a magical world that is so important to millions of people, Eddie sighs and takes a few seconds to answer. “I have always loved the Harry Potter universe. Some people like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars ... But, for me, the idea that there is a magical world that happens right in front of you, that happens without going any further on the streets of London, that. .. That exploded my imagination in another way.

During the quarantine, J. K. Rowling, who has been in charge of the script of the film, sparked a controversy through a series of tweets about transgender women. Redmayne assures that he does not agree with these statements but that it does not approve of the attacks of some people through social networks. The actor was one of the first to position himself against Rowling alongside Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and other protagonists of her films. "Trans women are women, trans men are men, and non-binary identities are valid."

After having spent a while talking, Redmayne confesses to me that he has never been a big dreamer not to maintain certain aspirations that ended up disappointing him. So he has always kept a handful of dreams to himself. One of them was fulfilled just a few weeks ago with the premiere of The Trial of the Chicago 7, a film written and directed by Aaron Sorkin that can already be seen on Netflix and in some - few - cinemas. “I was on vacation with my wife in Morocco and the script arrived. I think I called my agent before I even read it and said yes, I would. She probably thought the obvious, that I'm stupid. After that, of course I read the script, which is about a specific moment in history that I knew very little about. I found it exciting and a very relevant drama in today's times. "

And it is that having a script by Aaron Sorkin in your hands is no small thing. Eddie Redmayne has been a fan of his work ever since he saw The West Wing of the White House. “His scripts have delicious language and dialogue. As an actor, it's fun to play characters that are much smarter than you are in real life. That virtuosity is hard to come by. I really hope that audiences enjoy this movie and feel that there is always hope. " He remembers that since he released The Theory of Everything he has recorded, to a large extent, English period dramas, “and although the new Aaron Sorkin is not strictly contemporary,” says Redmayne, “to be able to wear jeans and shirts and sweaters instead of so much tweed is great ”.

Besides acting, art was the only thing the actor was interested in, so he ended up studying Art History at Cambridge University. “My parents are quite traditional and when I told them I wanted to act they gave me free rein but on the condition that I study a career. And I'm very grateful for that because ... Look, beyond that, when I play a real character I usually go to the National Portrait Gallery in London quite often. There I lock myself up. Now, for Sorkin's film, I went through a lot of photographs and videotapes. Art helps me to be more creative, to get into paper ”. If he were not an actor, he would be, he says decidedly, a historian or perhaps a curator. "Although I think he would be a very bad art curator."

Against all logic, Eddie Redmayne is color blind. But there is a color that you can distinguish anywhere and on any surface: klein blue. He wrote his thesis on the French artist Yves Klein and the only shade of blue he used in his works. He wrote up to 30,000 words talking about that color with which he became obsessed. “It is surprising that a color can be so emotional. One can only hope to achieve that intensity in acting. "

Like his taste for art, which encompasses the refined and compact, Redmayne seems to be in the same balance when it comes to the roles he chooses. When I ask him what aspects a character he wants to play should have, he takes a few seconds again before answering: “I wish I had a more ingenious answer but I will tell you that I know when my belly hurts. It's that feeling that I trust. In my mind I transport him to imagine myself playing that character. When I read a script I have to really enjoy it. You never fully regret those instincts. It's like when you connect with something emotionally. "

So we come to the conclusion that all his characters have some traits in common. "You know what? I never look back, and this is something personal, but I do believe that there is a parallel between Marius in Les Misérables trying to be a revolutionary, someone who is quite prone to being distracted by love but at the same time is willing to die for his cause, and Tom Hayden from The Chicago Trial of the 7 who was a man who had integrity and was passionate and fought for the things he believed in. So I suppose there may also be similarities between a young Stephen Hawking and Newt Scamander. There are traits in common in all of them that I don't really know where they come from ”.

When we talk about the year we are living in, in which it is increasingly difficult to find hope, we both let out a nervous laugh. "There must be," Redmayne says. “There is something very nice that Tom Hayden, the character I play in Sorkin's film, said to his former wife, actress Jane Fonda, just the day before she passed away. He told her that watching people die for their beliefs changed his life forever. In that sense, I also think about what Kennedy Jr. wrote about how democracy is messy, tough and never easy ... As is believing in something to fight for. I look at history and how they were willing to live their lives with that integrity to change the world and I realize that somehow that spirit still remains with us. " We fell silent thinking about it. "There must be hope."

I tell him about my love for Nick Cave's blog, The Red Hand, and one of the posts that I have liked the most in recent weeks. In it, the singer affirms that his response to a crisis has always been to create, an impulse that has saved him many times. For Redmayne there are two activities that can silence noise: drawing and playing the piano. “When you play the piano your concentration is so consumed by trying to hit that note that you can't think of anything else. Similarly, when you draw something, the focus is between the paper and what you are trying to recreate ... There I try to calm my mind.

Before saying goodbye, I drop a question that I thought I knew the answer to, but failed. What work of art would you save from mass destruction? "How difficult! I could name my favorite artists but still couldn't choose a work. Only one piece? Let me think. I am very obsessed with Yves Klein, but I would stick with a work by Brancusi. There is a sculpture of him, a small head called Prometheus, in Cambridge's Kettle’s Yard, on a dark mahogany piano. The truth is that I find it very ... beautiful ”.

Before leaving, he confesses to me - with a childish and slow voice - that he would like to direct something one day. We said goodbye, saying that we will talk about his next project. Next, the first thing I do is open the Google search engine. "P-r-o-m-e-t-h-e-u-s". Although Eddie Redmayne has trouble distinguishing violet from blue, he doesn't have them when choosing a good piece. He's right, that work deserves to be saved.

* This article appears in the November 2020 issue of Esquire magazine

Source: esquire.com/es/actualidad/cine/a34434114/eddie-redmayne-juicio-7-chicago-netflix-entrevista/

[puccbunni]

“Friends”

| Auston Matthews | Maple Leafs |

{ Fuck Up the Friendship - Leah Kate }

Sooo this is my first ever Imagine. I hope you guys like it and sorry for any mistakes, I think I got them all but... Honestly I got a little bored and with the return to play yesterday I figured I’d give a little love for our favourite NHL boys.

WARNINGS:

Swearing

Drinking

Smut (sorry!! Not sorry 🙄)

———————————————————————

You had grown up living next door to Steph and when she began dating Mitch, the three of you became as thick as thieves, so when you and Steph got excepted into Western and moved in together the bond only grew stronger. Mitch often joked around saying he was the real third wheel of the relationship, so he would often invite one of his team mates along so he had company whenever you, Steph and Mitch would hang out. For that reason you had gotten to know Auston pretty well over the last few years and had even became pretty good friends but that was all it ever was, Friends. Sure you had both thought the other was attractive, but you never acted on those thoughts.

After your mid year exams were finally over you and Steph had decided to go out and celebrate making it through the hell that was exam week.

“Would you mind if I invited Mitch?” Steph asked as she bought all of her make up in to your room and started getting ready for the night ahead.

“No of course not I haven’t seen him in ages!” You reply knowing full well that with Mitchs schedule lately and Stephs exams, she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in at least a month.

A wide smile spread across her face as she quickly typed a message to Mitch. He quickly replied back saying that he’d meet us at the club and was bring a few of the boys along cause they missed the two of you as well.

After you finished getting ready, you down a few shots before calling an Uber and making your way to the club. For the first time since knowing the boys you and Steph had somehow managed to beat the rest of the group to your destination. Not wanting to waste any time Steph dragged you to the bar and order two rounds of shots and two cocktails to ‘start off the night’. You down the shots of tequila feeling the slightly golden liquid burn it’s way down your throat and you quickly chased them with the fruity drink that the bartender had just delivered to you, you both thanked him and headed to the booth Mitch had reserved for the night. After 20 minutes and another two rounds of cocktails later the boys were still yet to arrive, feeling buzzed all you wanted to do now was dance, so you decided that you weren’t waiting any longer for the boys and moved down to the dance floor that was starting to become more crowed with intoxicated bodies as the minutes ticked by. A few minutes had passed and Steph who was somehow slightly more intoxicated than you indicated that she needed water, not wanting to leave your new found happy place you simply nodded and went back to swaying with the music. You stayed like this trapped in an alcohol induced trance swaying to the beat of the music playing loudly through the speakers of the club until you felt two large, muscular arms wrap around you waist and pick you up and start to spin you. Panic floods your body as your eyes shoot open to see who your attacker was, you look down and recognise the tattoos that dance up one of the arms of the man that still had you lifted off the ground. As he put your feet back on the ground you try to spin to face him but stumbled slightly due to the alcohol you had ingested.

“Wow there, easy tiger” Auston shouted, barley auditable over the music.

You slapped him in the chest.

“Auston you scared the shit out of me!”

Auston simply laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“Sorry Y/N, I don’t mean to scare you.”

“Where’s everyone else?” You ask looking around slightly as he released you from the hug but kept his hands resting on your hips.

“Over at the bar, we can keep dancing though.” He said leaning in a little closer.

You could tell that although he had just arrived, that Auston had had the same idea as you and had probably down a few drinks before he left because he seemed bolder, more confident, if that was even possible.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh no buddy, we can go to the bar and you can buy me a drink for giving me a heart attack!” you joked poking your finger into his broad chests, taking a step back to try and gain a little bit of distance between the two of you.

Auston just rolled his eyes but nodded, placing his large hand on your lower back and guiding you to the bar. When you get there you are greeted by the rest of the group. Mitch was standing with his arms around Stephs waist as she giggles at something Willy had just said to her. Kappy and Paige were stood next to him and Freddie was on the other side of Mitch ordering a drink from the bartender.

“Hey there she is!” Willy said pulling you into a hug.

“Long time no see stranger.” You reply with a smile.

You say hello to the rest of the group and turn back to Auston just in time for him to hand the same cocktail you had been drinking earlier with Steph. You thank him and down it quickly not realising how thirsty you were until you had finished the entire drink within a few moments.

“Ohhh so it’s going to be one of those nights.” Freddie laughs as you place the now empty glass back on the bar. You shrug with a smirk plastered on your face.

“Hey I deserve it! This last week has been hell!”

“Cheers to that!” Steph says raising her half empty glass then chugging the remainder of the contents down. Everyone laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes knowing that he is in for a very long an interesting night. You all grab a few drinks and head over to the booth and slip into an easy conversation about life, hockey, work basically just catching up with everyone. You were sat in between Freddie and Auston which left you with very little space and as the night progressed, the more the two of them spread out, leaving you sandwiched between them with no space to move. Auston raised his arm closest to you and placed it on the back of the chair behind your head.

“You comfortable?” He asks as you slid closer to him and into the small space he had created for you.

“Yeah, I forget how big you boys are.” You laugh.

You shuffled your legs as they still didn’t have quite enough room and Freddie’s foot kept getting dangerous close to stepping on your toes. Your knee knocked Austons and he looked down at what you were doing. He used his free hand to grab your legs and swing them over one of his thick thighs pulling you closer towards him. You look up at him with a questioning look.

“What?” Auston asks.

You shake your head and mumble nothing whilst going back to sipping on your drink and trying to pay attention to what Paige was saying.

But your eyes kept darting back to Auston. You had never been this close to him before, never close enough to smell his cologne, never close enough to feel his warm breath on your bare shoulder and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you liked it. You liked being this close to him, it felt safe and warm. No one seemed to notice, that you were basically sitting in Austons lap, or if they did it didn’t really bother them the way it was bothering you. Everything was hazy and you weren’t entirely sure if it was just the alcohol that was impacting your judgement or Auston’s presence as well, but as his free hand dropped to you bare thigh and started rubbing small circles absentmindedly just above your knee, you knew he was definitely having some sort of effect on you and the smug look on his face told you he knew it too.

”You okay there Y/N?” He ask his lips almost touching your ear.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You reply keeping yourself facing forward, not trusting yourself enough to make eye contact with him.

His fingers started to move closer to the hem of your very short dress and you instinctively squeeze your thighs together as an ache started to spread in between your legs. He let out a small breathy laugh,

“You sure your okay Baby.”

At the sound of the nickname he had just bestowed onto you, your desire spiked through the roof and you were about willing to let this man, your friend, do absolutely anything he wanted to you right then and there. But Freddie’s laugh bought you plummeting back to reality and you remembered that you were sat at a table, with your friends, in a very public club. You quickly grabbed Auston wrist before his fingers could go any higher.

“Someone will notice!” You whisper harshly.

“And?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“And, I am not doing this here!” You exclaim.

“Then let’s get out of here.” He said raising his drink casually back up to his lips, like he hadn’t just asked you to go home with him.

“What?” You ask shocked at his question. You quickly looked around the table and thanked your lucky stars that everyone seemed to be too deep in conversation with one another to have noticed your very shocked expression.

“You said you aren’t doing this here, so the logical solution would be to get out of here.” He stated like it was a commonly known fact. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not going home with you Auston.”

“Oh I think you will change your mind.” You weren’t looking at him but you could practically feel his smirk dripping off his words.

You tried to move your legs off his thigh but his hand grab them halting your movements, before sliding them back up his leg. You knew he was right if you stayed in this position you would change your mind, actually you really wouldn’t because your mind already wanted to go home with him. Your mind wanted to feel his skin on yours, his lips discovering every part of your body, that’s what your mind and your body wanted. But the small amount of common sense you had left was screaming out that this was a bad idea, a terrible idea, that you were friends and that’s all you ever will be and that this is just the alcohol talking not Auston, the real, sober Auston.

“I need to got to the bathroom.” You state and push his hand off your leg and half shove him out of the booth.

You quickly make your way through the crowded club and into the bathroom where you lock yourself in one of the cubicles. God you needed to get a grip. This is Auston we are talking about, Auston freaking Matthews. You were friends JUST friends, so why the hell did you want to sleep with him right now? And even better question since when did he want to sleep with you? You had never been flirty with each other before, granted you had always been seeing other people and had never really been single at the same time before. But still you had never thought you were his type or vice versa. After a few deep breaths you finally managed to pull yourself together and calm you nerves and your growing desire enough to face him again. You unlocked the cubicle and checked your appearance in the mirror touching up your lipstick up slightly and opened the bathroom doors. As you took a step out of the bathroom Auston grabbed you by the waist pulled you into him and smashed his lips down onto yours. You raised your two hands and shoved him off you slightly.

“Hey I just touched up my lipstick, asshole.”

Auston laughed and dipped his forehead down so it rested on yours.

“That’s all you have to say right now Y/N?”

“I- umm I..” you stutter as you fully take in the fact that he had just kissed you. Auston Matthews had just kissed you.

“You kissed me.” You state rather stupidly looking into his eyes.

“I did and I very much want to do it again.” He says using one of his hands to cup your face.

He starts to lean in.

“If you don’t want this just tell me to stop Y/N.” His eyes scanning yours for any kind of uncertainty.

But you couldn’t be more certain, you wanted him and that small ounce of common sense you had left evaporated the second his lips touched yours.

“I want you.” You whisper, you aren’t even sure if he heard you over the music, but the smile that spreads across his face confirms that he does.

“Good cause I really want to ruin that damn lipstick now.” He growled crashing his lips back into yours.

You weren’t sure how long it was that you were making out with Auston or who saw but honestly you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in each other, you know you had somehow managed to break apart from each other long enough to call an Uber and text Steph that you weren’t feeling well and were going to head home. The next thing you know you are stumbling through the front door of Austons apartment. He pushed you up against the wall after slamming the door shut behind you, his tongue tasting like the whisky he had been sipping on.

“Bedroom” you say as his lips moved down to you neck.

“Needy are we?” He chuckles against your neck.

“Shut up.” You moan as he starts sucking at your sweet spot just behind your ear. Your hands running up his neck and then up into his soft curls.

He takes you to his room and pushes you on his bed and takes of his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and rake your eyes up his bare chest drinking in the sight of him before you.

“Like what you see baby.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Eh, it’ll do.” you shrug and he scoffs.

He grabs you by your ankles and drags you to the end of his bed. He pulls your dress up over your head, leaving you laying in a matching black lace set that you know makes you look good.

“Like what you see baby.” You mock him as you catch him staring at you the same way you were doing to him moments before.

“It will do.” He reply’s and you both start laughing.

He crawls on to the bed, your lips dancing with his as his large body covered yours with ease. You both shuffle up the bed until your head hits the pillows. He starts kissing your neck, sucking and biting slightly as his large hand squeezes you boobs over your lace bra. He reaches behind you and unclips your bra sliding the material down your arms and tossing it across his room.

You unbutton his jeans and helped him get them off. You start palming his already hard dick through his boxers and as you felt him heavy in your hand it became more and more unbearable not having him in you. You were thankful when he looped his fingers in the band of your underwear and dragged them down your legs. As soon as your underwear was discarded his fingers are dancing on your clit.

“Ah, fuck.” You moan causing him to smirk for the millionth time that night.

“God you’re so wet baby.” He says against your neck as his lips leave a hot trail down your neck to your left breast taking your hardening nipple into his mouth. Your back arches and you moan louder as he slips a finger into you entrance.

“Aus, please.” You gasp throwing your head back against the pillows.

“Want do you want Y/N?” He asks whilst slipping another finger in you.

“I want you.” You say for the second time that night, not caring how needy you sounded.

He quickly rids himself of his boxers and grabs a condom off his bedside table and rolls it down his length. He lined his tip up with your entrance.

“You sure Y/N.” He asks in a quiet voice, checking your eyes for any sign of hesitation.

You cupped his face kissing his lips softly.

“Yes.” You answer without a shred of doubt.

He pushes into you slowly aware that his length was a lot for you to take in. He stills momentarily once your pelvises touch and he is fully sheathed inside of you, stretching you in the most delicious way. Auston captures your moan in his mouth as he moves his hips back before snapping them forward again. His thrusts were firm and once you had adjusted, his pace quickened to a relentless pace that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck Y/N.” He groaned as you raked you nails down his back.

Sweat had began to gather on his brow and the base of his neck making some of his dark curls stick to the skin. The harder and fast he thrusted into you the louder you both got. You felt the small bubble in your stomach start to grow.

“God, fuck I am close.” Auston moaned dropping his hand down to your clit again to bring on your release on faster.

You felt his thrust become sloppy as you began to tighten around him.

“Don’t stop.” You begged as the bubble within began to burst and you came hard around his member, Auston found his high moments after yours. He rolled off of you and got up to discard the condom before slipping back into bed next you, pulling the blankets up over your naked bodies and you tightly into his chest where you both quickly fell asleep wrapped up in each other.

The next morning you woke up just before five, your legs tangled up with Austons, his large arm draped across your torso and you could hear his light snores telling you that he was still asleep. You carefully untangle yourself and slip from the bed, grabbing your clothes that were scattered around his room and you sneak out of his apartment before your ‘friend’ has the chance to wake up.

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw! 

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2994

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2

By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil. 

Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre. 

When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect. 

Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system. 

On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.

Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”

“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”

Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better. 

Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”

He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful. 

If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube. 

The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil. 

‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’

This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach. 

‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’

‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’

That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.

‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’

‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’

He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank. 

‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’

‘...sorry…’

His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?

The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up. 

He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!

He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.

‘logan?’

Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’

A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’ 

And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’ 

It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen. 

‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’

‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil. 

‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’

‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.

‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’

Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’

‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant. 

‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’

‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?

‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’

‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’

This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside. 

‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’

When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night. 

‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’

‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’

They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale. 

He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.

“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”

He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work. 

Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth. 

“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him. 

Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?” 

“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk. 

“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.” 

Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency. 

Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod. 

“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”

“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”

Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”

Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”

“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout. 

Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”

“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”

Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him. 

Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder. 

“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly. 

Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”

“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”

Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”

Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave. 

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”

[stillebesat]

Stille’s Sanders Sides Master Post (Updated September 9th, 2022)

Here’s my official Master Post of my Sanders Sides Fics! 

All of them can also be found on my Ao3 account NikaylaSarae. ^^;;

For Tumblr, the links to all my stories are below the cut. <3

Enjoy!

The Brilliant 3 A.M. Idea  -Roman gets an Idea at 3am and must tell Thomas. -Inspired from Image posted by: organisoitukaaosteoria, Fic request: darude-sanderstorm

The Nest -Patton misplaces his cardigan and finds it in an unexpected spot. Inspired from series of text posts by: the-zebra-dragon and arc852, Fic request: sidewritings

That’s How You Know -Roman is feeling low after not getting a part he auditioned for and desperately wanted. The others step in to cheer him up. Song!Fic -That’s How You Know from Enchanted

Out There: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 -Logan finds himself alone in the apartment. So he does something he usually doesn’t do. Sing. Song!Fic -Out There from Hunchback of Notre Dame

Deep Heart: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 -When Logan leaves the others in Patton’s room, Virgil takes matters into his own hands and ends up revealing a secret Patton wanted to keep hidden. (takes place at the end of Moving On ½) Inspiration from This Post Courage, Braveheart: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 -Virgil had known since he was young that his chances for living long were slim. Still, he had hoped to have lived a little bit longer.

A Sweet Discovery -It’s 2 a.m. and Tiny!Logan is on the prowl for sweets. Tiny!Sides

It Takes Two -When Logan can’t convince Thomas to not give into peer pressure in a potentially dangerous situation, he turns to the Side he thought he’d never go to for help. Virgil.

Found in the Glitter -Working backstage is not always the easiest, especially when Virgil manages to get on the new guy’s nerves. Theatre AU

A Rainbow Connection -Roman’s on the run, desperate to escape the man who’s been able to control his entire life just by looking into his eyes. Hopping from airport to airport, Roman unexpectedly runs into the person who gave him the key to slipping from the Cobra’s mental control; Thomas Sanders.   Song!Fic

Shades of Truth: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - -Everyone has secrets, Roman knows this. But after dealing with Deceit in the most recent video and discovering that Virgil doesn’t like liars…he decides to come clean with a secret he’s been hiding from the other Sides.

Meeting Einstein -It’d been a horrible no good very bad and awful day, and all Patton wanted was to play with the puppies in the local pet store to cheer himself up. Instead he finds something completely different.

True Colors  -There’s a place in the mindscape that Roman only goes to as a last resort when the criticism from the others becomes too much. Unfortunately, it’s becoming an all too frequent occurrence.

A Work of Art -After a rough night of public humiliation at the hands of his old rival, Roman just wants to take a shower and get some sleep. His roommate has something else in mind though.

Contained-Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 -You know what they say about Creativity. It’s best if it’s locked away.

FreeFalling- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 -Sometimes you just need to take a leap of faith. Winged!AU

The Butterfly Effect- Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Chapter 16  Chapter 17  Chapter 18  Chapter 19  Chapter 20  Chapter 21  Chapter 22  Chapter 23  Chapter 24  Chapter 25  Chapter 26  -Roman has three chances to change his life for the better. Three chances to fix past mistakes. Three chances to totally screw it all up. But who said life is worth living unless one takes a little risk?

The Training Program-It’s five a.m.. Virgil hasn’t yet slept and Thomas is summoning him. That couldn’t be good.

A Hero’s Rescue Part 1  Part 2 -After being defeated in battle, the last thing Roman expects is to have a soaking wet hero show up at his doorstep.

The Beginning -Creativity has an idea. A wonderful, awesome idea. Now…if only Creativity could focus enough to make the idea a reality.

Little Lies - Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  -All he’d been looking for when he’d revealed himself to Thomas was a little less work. One less secret to hide. One less thing to keep Thomas from knowing because his host didn’t want to know. To say it had backfired for Deceit was a bit of an understatement.

White Lies - Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 -Sequel to Little Lies -Deceit has been stuck in his ‘role’ as Dilyn for almost a year now. It’s about time he changed that.

CatScratch - Virgil’s learned to expect a lot of things helping the police solve murders, but he never thought that they’d actually find something that could crack his own unsolved case.

The Finish Line - After years of training, Logan Star is finally going to accomplish the one goal he’s had since his first High School track meet. Beat Roman Prince.

Growing Pains -Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 -For the past year Logan has been fighting to keep a part of himself hidden. Only now, thanks to Roman, he’s been compromised.

The Grade -Patton: I’m sorry I graded your tests in magic marker, but I just felt like it.

Seeking Warmth -If he’d known he’d be spending the rest of eternity freezing to death on Earth, Deceit would never have left Hell in the first place.

Spilled Milk -Logan never expected to get in the middle of a fight while at the self-checkout of a grocery store.

Egg-stenuating Circumstances -Why is it that the simplest of quests for Roman always end up more complicated than they should be?

The Rise of Deceit -With the Dragonwitch destroying the kingdom, the Crown Prince has a difficult choice to make.

Tattered -Part 1  Part 2 -Left to fend for himself, Roman can’t trust anyone…right?

Raindrops and Cookies -Most people would only be focused on getting themselves out of the rain. Patton isn’t most people.

A Special Delivery -Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  - “The stork brings the baby to deserving parents.” He whispered, quoting the words from memory. “All the lost, forgotten, and alone.”

In These Tangled Webs: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11 -It should be easy admitting to your roommates that you’re not entirely human. Only in Logan’s case it’s not. Not when he discovers that Patton is afraid of Spiders.

The Old Hoodie - 2 sentence prompt –Thomas glared at Virgil, eyes filled with hate, and held out Virgil’s old hoodie, obviously expecting him to take it and go back to who he used to be. “I don’t trust Dark Sides.“

I Miss The King: Part 1  Part 2 -2 sentence prompt -“I miss you… I miss the King” a sigh “Apparently, it’s the same for me.”

Infinitesimal -Logan isn’t quite sure why Roman thinks he needs his help at three in the morning.

To Break A Curse: 2 sentence prompt -Logan looked at Roman, eyes dark. “I need you to really think about what you’re saying, because you’re going to hurt Virgil even more if you do not.“  

Shutting Down -Having your phone die shouldn’t be that big of a deal…right?

Anxious to Touch - Virgil ca’t be around the others without hurting them, so he has to stay away. Only Deceit won’t let him do that.

The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating - Remus(1) Patton(2) Emile(3) Remy(4) ???(5) Logan(6) Roman(7) Virgil(8) Diva(9) Duke(10) Prince(11) Picani(12) Logic(13)  Deceit(14) ???(15)  -2nd person pov. -You’ve been trick or treating at the Sanders Side’s homes for as long as you can remember, but this year things get a bit more…complicated.

The Interview: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 -A normal day at StoryTime! Inc. takes an unexpected turn when Logan goes to investigate why his coworkers have made a bet using Crofters as the prize.

Virgil’s Interview: -It’d been his dream to work for StoryTime! since he was a kid, and now finally, Virgil may be able to make it come true. Note: Virgil’s pov of Chapter 3 in The Interview.

The Olive Branch -They used to celebrate Christmas Eve without Anxiety there to ruin things. But this year Roman plans to change that.

These Black Wings -An hour ago Patton had been loved, wanted, celebrated. Now? He’s on the run for his life thanks to the large black wings that sprouted from his back.

Chimney Sweep -Sure. It’s great to be able to see visions of missing children…but being able to find them still alive is another thing entirely.

Meeting Romeo -A Prequel to A Work of Art. -It was unfortunate really, but someone had to tell the Romeo standing on the street that his Juliet he’d come to listen to day after day no longer lived in the apartment complex. It might as well be Virgil.

Dance with Me -Patton’s never had a father figure to bring to his ballet class for Valentine’s Day like all the other kids before. But this year…he might.

A Midnight Conversation -All Virgil expected when he stepped out onto the balcony was to have a quiet moment to himself. Note: Virgil’s pov of ch 2 of White Lies.

Warm Fuzzies -Two Sentence Prompt: Remy thought that he didn’t deserve love, not after everything he’s done. But, when Emile walked through the door to room 127, Remy’s heart skipped an unexpected beat.

A Shadowling’s Happiness  -Two Sentence Prompt: “Where the hell are you going!?” “To the subconscious,  and you can’t stop me.”

Scales- Prologue  Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Epilogue -Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door.

Mother’s Day -Janus has never liked Mother’s Day.

Wanted -Remus knew one thing for sure. No one would ever want to Want him.

To The Moon - A Vague AU Prompt. -This wasn’t at all how Patton expected their wedding night to go.

The New Hire- Roman has never known his brother, Logan, to break a promise. Until now. Note: Roman’s pov of Chapter 4 in The Interview. 

Be My Dad- A Vague AU Prompt -Janus has no interest in being a parental figure to a kid, but trying to convince the universe of that is another thing entirely.

Moonshot-  Was it too much for Logan to ask to have just one date not revolve around sports talk?

The Sweater- Emile had said he was making a sweater for a friend. Only he neglected to tell Remy that this friend wasn’t exactly…well…human.

October ThirST -After seventy years of searching for his Soulblood, Virgil is highly doubtful he’ll find them tonight.

Lemon Drops -Patton just wanted to go somewhere where he wouldn’t be judged, wouldn’t disappoint…wouldn’t…screw up another relationship. (Takes place after SvS Redux)

The Path: A Promise Kept -sequel to The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating -Trick or Treating may be cancelled this year, but that won’t stop you from keeping a Promise.

The Chaos Twins -prequel moment to The Sweater -Everyone has their hobbies, though Emile wishes his roommates’ hobbies were a little less…explosive.

On the Run -prequel moment to the Sweater -When life gives you an escape attempt, you run as fast and as far as you can to get away.

Nitemear -It’s not considered running away if you’re merely trying to find a more defensible position.

The Key is Confidence -Confidence. That was the key, his father had told him, to getting away with anything.

Among the Branches -Getting woken up at the crack of dawn by your landlord can’t be a good thing. Fractured Trust- Trust is a tender thing, easily made…and just as easily broken. Written for the Two sentence prompt -"Why don't you trust me Roman?" Patton asked tightening his grip on Roman's shirt. "P-Patton I-" Roman stuttered out fearfully.

A Mini’s Pep Talk -It shouldn’t surprise Roman, at this point, that on top of an already no good really really bad day he ends up getting attacked by another Side’s Mini-Me while looking for his own. (Takes place after SVS Redux)

The (K)nightmare -They say that the brain uses Dreams to help understand and solve problems one faces in the waking world.

Demon Comfort -Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 -Lurking under a Human’s bed should be downright dull for a Demon of Logan’s rank. And yet…he can’t help but be intrigued by his human charge.

First Contact - Things would be so much easier if only their human, Virgil, would talk to them.

Meeting Virgil (5x1) - Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded. A Special Delivery Prequel. 

Catch Me (If You Can) - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 -Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick.

Beneath the Moon - Part 1  Part 2 Part 3 -After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman…Roman had always been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the…supernatural.

Hello Darkness (My Old ... Friend?) - Part 1  -Is it possible to search for something…for someone…when you don’t even remember that they’re missing?

Dance Break! -Roman suddenly jumped up, a sparkle in his eyes, as he turned, seeking out the first person he can find and holding out his hand. “Dance with me!” (Written with @kieraelieson)​

Christmas Eve -Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 -Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind.

Code: Blanket -Part 1  Part 2 -A friendship doesn’t stop just because one person decides to act like a dick. Especially when said dick is obviously in trouble.

An Unconventional Defeat -Patton knew that heroes started out young, far younger than villains ever did. But this young?

Into the Fray -It wasn’t like he shouldn’t have expected this. It seemed like any plan involving him and Virgil had a tendency to well…go astray.

No Longer Alone -Growing up in isolation away from people has been all that Virgil’s ever known. That changes today.

A Restless Christmas Eve -Even if it had been five years since he’d appeared in the real world, this still felt like it should have been a Virgil problem and not a Deceit one. He’d never had issues staying asleep before. Let alone ending up wide awake, feeling like he needed to–to–just move. Get out. Because of a stupid storm.

Out Camping - Part 1  Part 2 -A Father and Son Camping Trip.

Sanders Sides Art Portals AU-  Deceit  Roman  Patton Logan  Virgil