#AND NOW THE DIRECTOR SAID OKAY LETS FOCUS ON HIS HANDS WHY NOT

[sugajimin]

yoongi removing his gloves is reaaally interesting..(cr. @/jung-koook)

[pitchsidestories]

You belong with me II Alanna Kennedy x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1516

a/n: we combined two requests for this oneshot, hope you guys like it !

As the social media manager of the Australian national team, you never got tired of working with the players to create new content together.

In that moment you were already focused by placing the big camera on the tripod in front of you, after that was done you looked up to Mackenzie Arnold, your girlfriend’s best friend, humming:” Ready?”

“Yes, fire your questions away.”, the goalkeeper responded smiling brightly at you.

Satisfied by her okay you clapped into your hands: ”Alright, let’s start.”

“Yes, please.”, the brunette nodded happily. You two were suddenly interrupted by Harper, who was running excitedly into the open arms of the player: ”Macca!”

“Hi Harper and Cait.”, Mackenzie greeted the intruders warmly.  

Noisily Caitlin Foord wanted to know from both of you:” What are you two doing?”

“Recording a video for the Matilda’s Instagram?”, you replied shrugging, because it was quite obvious for everyone to see what was going on here. 

In good spirits the goalkeeper explained:” It was supposed to be a quick round of questions.”  

“What questions?”, Katrina Gorrys’s daughter asked big eyed. Casually

Mackenzie shrugged her shoulders:” Just random questions?”

“Like?”, the toddler pressed on stubbornly.

Her curiosity was endearing to you, that’s why you patiently answered her:” Like who’s her favourite roommate and what’s her favourite food in camp.”

“It’s so obvious. I’m her favourite roommate because Lani sneaks out to be with you at night.”, the Arsenal forward said with a cheeky grin on her lips.

With a frustrated sigh you interrupted the conversation you have been filming since Harper appeared a few minutes ago:” Cut!”

“I thought we didn’t even start anyway.”, Mackenzie giggled confused.

Sheepishly you told her:” I already hit the record button.” “And she’s getting paid for that.”, Caitlin teasingly rolled her eyes at you.

Groaning you hid the face behind your hands: “Girls!” “What?”, the forward threw up an eyebrow.

Meanwhile Harper who realized you were filming them was now in her element, clapping her hands like she was the director of this set, exclaiming delighted:” And action.”

“See, they should pay her. She’s carrying our social media appearance.”, Caitlin remarked amused.

To your defense came Mackenzie who pointed out to one of her closest friends:” She does, but y/n always makes you look good in photos as you said earlier.”  “She does.”, the Arsenal player admitted.

Clearing your throat, you draw back the attention to the task which lay ahead of you all:” So who’s your favourite and worst roommate in camp.”

“They’re both going to kill me. Caitlin and Alanna but I’m not saying who is which.”, the goalkeeper responded with a wink to the camera.

You bit back a laugh and continued; “Okay, next question. What’s your favourite part of the training camp?“

Without missing a beat, Mackenzie answered; “Seeing the girls.“

“Awww!“, Caitlin cooed from somewhere next to you with a smirk.

The goalkeeper made a dismissive hand gesture in her direction; “Shut up. I’m talking about Mini and Harper!“

“Rude!“, Caitlin complained, laughing.

You shook your head at the two football players; “Girls, please!“

“Focus.“, Harper said as strictly as possible for a toddler and pointed her finger into Mackenzies direction.

You smiled at the little girl; “Thanks, Harper.“

Mackenzie looked at Caitlin in disbelief; “Can’t believe we’re getting called out by Harps!“

“She’s already a social media pro.“, you shrugged. Caitlin grinned; “We can tell.“

The filming was again interrupted by Katrina; “Oh, here she is!“ Harper immediately ran into her mothers arms who gently picked her up.

“Harper was in safe hands, Mini. I’m a keeper.“, Mackenzie commented, smiling about her own joke.

Caitlin rolled her eyes; “Worst joke ever, Macca.“ “Shush it. Time to go back to filming.“, the goalkeeper decided and you were more than happy to comply.

After you managed to film the video without any further interruptions, Alanna was impatiently waiting for you. With her arms crossed over her chest, she was playfully pouting; “You did a video without me?“

“It was Maccas turn.“, you explained matter-of-factly.

Mackenzie who left the room right behind you winked at her friend; “Yes, and it was fun. Even though Harper stole the show as usual.“

“She did.“, you agreed with a laugh. Alanna pretended to be shocked; “Rude.“

“Jealous that your girlfriend didn’t work with you today?“, Caitlin teased, closing the door of the hotel room that you used to film.

Unimpressed, Alanna shook her head; “She only does videos with you, guys.“

“So that’s a yes.“, Mackenzie concluded with raised eyebrows.

You eyed your girlfriend from the side while you remarked; “I mean at home she only takes photos with Leila recently. So it’s fair.“

The defenders jaw dropped open; “Don’t start with Leila now. You never want to be on my photos.“ “

Well, you never ask me.“, you continued.

Alanna retorted; “Don’t distract. You also never ask me to be in your little videos.“

“That’s something different.“

“Not at all!“

“We’ll talk about this later.“, you ended the discussing while fondly rolling you eyes about your girlfriends teasing.

“Fine.“ Your small dispute attracted some of the drama-loving Matildas.

Mary Fowler looked at you with curious eyes; “Trouble in paradise?“

“Yes, Mary. Obviously.“, Alanna shook her head, laughing. Kyra Cooney-Cross grimaced; “Trouble? No way, that’s our thing.“

Steph Catley shot her an inquisitive look; “What did you do again that we haven’t noticed yet?“

“What are you talking about, Steph?“, Alanna asked.

“Talking about Kyra. I think she was onto some mischief again.“, her fellow defender explained without taking her eyes off the younger player.

“I’m going to bed now. Good night, girls.”, you announced.

“Lani is she still pouting because of the Leila photos or is this just a thing you love to tease eachother with?”, curiously Mary turned to look at your girlfriend, expecting a dramatic reply.

“No, we’re just making fun.”, Alanna reassured the younger forward. 

“You two are such weirdos.”, Steph commented smirking.

Unimpressed by the teasing of the fellow Matilda’s she shook her head:” We’re cute.”

“Sometimes.”, Mary admitted.

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes: “You’re too young to have an opinion.”

“Rude.”, the younger player scoffed playfully.

The evening went on as usually, but Alanna decided to say goodnight to the team because she wanted to see you desperately after your dispute earlier.

When she came into your room you were already laying on the hotel bed, the only thing you were wearing was an old jersey of your girlfriend which was big enough on you to cover all the important parts. “Hi love.”, you hummed.  

Noticing your sleeping clothes Alanna lifted an eyebrow:” What are you trying to do?”

“These are my normal sleeping clothes.”, you answered innocently.

“You never sleep in my jersey.”, the Mancity player remarked. 

“Okay, fine, maybe I wanted to show you that I belong to you.”, you sighed.  

The blonde nodded slowly: “I do hope so.”  

“And you belong to me.”, you concluded with a seducing smile.

“I do?”, Alanna asked grinning while letting her eyes glance over your whole figure taking it all in.  

“Yes.”, you replied confidently, now looking at her the same way she did a few seconds ago.  

“I see.” cheekily she took your camera from the nightside table, I think it’s time for a couple photo.”

“Fair enough, through the mirror?”, you suggested beaming.

Shrugging her shoulders, Alanna agreed to it: “Fine. If you want it artsy.”  

“I do.”, you told her.

“Of course you do.”, the defender smirked at you. 

After a couple of tries to take the photos, you looked up to her:” Thanks, it turned out really cute, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I love it.”, she said equally satisfied with the photos and the pretty picture you two made together.

For a moment your girlfriend hesitated before adding:” Can we post it?”

“Sure.”

“Great.”, Alanna kissed you, afterwards she quickly posted it, the rest of the evening her focus was entirely on you.

The next day you were back taking photos of the Matilda’s during their training.

“Look who’s coming now.”, Hayley nodded in the direction from where Mackenzie, Alanna and Caitlin were arriving on the pitch side.

Immediately you were blushing, remember the night you had with the blonde defender, while taking a photo of the trio:” Name a better trio, Hayley. I’m waiting.”

“The powerpuff girls.”, the forward laughed. 

Jumping on to your back Kyra almost screamed into your ears:” Charli, Mini and me!”

“Nirvana.”, Ellie giggled.

“I shouldn’t have asked.”, you mumbled but couldn’t help to smile at all the answers the player had given.

“Don’t forget the Jonas brothers.”, Charli winked at you while pulling the young Arsenal midfielder away from you.  

“I’ll make this the next random question for a video.”, decided.

The Tottenham player immediately supported your idea:” You should.”

Meanwhile Alanna was hugging you from behind, whispering:” As long as you think we’re the best trio.”

“Always.”, you replied, turning around to kiss your girlfriend on her lips ignoring the howling noises Caitlin and Mackenzie made.

You were never more certain that you and Alanna belonged together.

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act three, part three (2/2)

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act three, part three wc : ~1.3k

act three : the unexpected love  ➤  part 3 : editor-director supreme

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  act three, part three (1/2) next  ➤  act three, part four growing pains ➤  masterlist 

“are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” jun asks, his hand on the back of your chair. but you don’t look back at him, your focus on the screen in front of you as you review the pictures you just took of him. 

it’s a routine at this point. he’s taken his makeup off, he’s back in the clothes he wore earlier in the day. he tells you that he could give you a ride home, especially considering how late it was. the set’s being cleaned up, the staffs is putting away their things, yet you’re showing no sign of getting ready to leave.

“don’t worry, i won’t stay too long.”

“you said that last time.” jun replies. a sigh escapes his lips right after, knowing that there’s no convincing you. like someone else he knew, you were much too dedicated to your work. despite knowing that you don’t see him, he fights off the smile threatening to make its way on his lips. minghao never confirmed in his text that he would actually go, but he knew his friend.

he pats your shoulder a couple of times. “alright. let me know when you get home.”

“i will, thanks.” you finally look up at him with a smile. “great work today, jun. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“you too, yn. take it easy, okay?”

jun leaves and you place your attention back towards your laptop, taking note of the pictures you knew you would be making the cut. you don’t even attempt to fight off the frown on your face when you realize that most of them were made from the instructions that minghao had given. of course, you made your own calls and decisions for some of the photos as well, but it disheartened you a bit that they weren’t as good.

you’re not too sure how long it’s been since jun left. or how many goodbyes you’ve said to people, the lighting crew, the stylists, the production assistants. you’re sure that you’ve pretty much burned through the arrow keys of your laptop that the symbols have partially faded. your eyes feel heavier and your lean back in your seat, stretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn.

“you shouldn’t be here this late.”

you stop yourself mid-yawn. eyes wide as you turn to the source of the sound.

xu minghao stands there, just a few of feet away. his hands are stuffed inside the pockets of his pants, and there’s a look on his face that you can’t quite place. there’s a feeling building in the pit of your stomach, an emotion you can’t quite place either. perhaps contempt. maybe surprise.

still, you wonder why he’s here in the first place. especially after not showing up the past couple of days. 

“neither should you.” 

you don’t mean for your tone to be so sharp, but you turn away from him and back to the screen.

“that’s fair.” minghao chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor or lightheartedness. he walks towards you, dragging one of the nearby chairs with him. 

you raise a brow when he places the chair next to yours, not close enough for your arms to brush but not too far that you don’t register the scent of his cologne, and takes a seat. “what are you doing?”

“keeping you company.” he brings your laptop towards, so it’s right in between the two of you. minghao scrolls through the very top and begins looking through the photos.

you bite the inside of your cheek, and you can’t help but stare at him in complete astonishment. not even five minutes in and he’s already taken charge. it’s already off hours, and he wasn’t even there for the shoot. what gave him the nerve?

“look at the photos, not me.”

his voice is as monotone as it comes and you scoff, but still turn your gaze back towards the screen. “are you sure you’re just keeping me company?”

“hm.” minghao hums, not exactly answering your question and continuing to breeze through the photos. his lips are pressed into a thin line and his brows are furrowed. “these are good. great work, yn.”

you blink back your shock, trying your hardest not to turn to him once more. it almost feels strange to be complimented, mostly because he says it in such a matter-of-fact way that it doesn’t even feel like a compliment. “it’s thanks to your suggestions.”

minghao sees you in his peripheral, and he’s aware enough to pick out the slight disdain in your tone. he shakes his head, stopping at one of the pictures where he knows he didn’t have any sort of influence in — a picture that didn’t come from one of his suggestions.

“not all of them. look-” he turns the laptop slightly towards you, both of you leaning in closer. “-this is an interesting one. dynamic, good movement. exposure is a bit too much, but nothing that can’t be fixed in post.”

you nod, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. even when he’s giving out compliments, he still can’t help but critique something. it almost feels strange to have this sense of disdain towards someone, having never experienced the feeling before. nearly all of the projects you’ve worked on have been a collaborative effort, you’re not entirely used to someone exerting this amount of control on a shoot.

was it earned? of course. your coworkers spoke so highly of him that you couldn’t help but do a bit of research on your own. minghao was already building an impressive portfolio before you were even accepted into university. he was nothing short of a prodigy. 

a silence falls between the two of you, and minghao can’t help but take one more quick glance at you as you processed his words. he doesn’t fail to notice the subtle clench of your jaw, or the quiet yet sharp intake of breath. 

“did i-” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “-strike a nerve?”

you let the question hang in the air for a few more seconds. you bite your lip, then your tongue.

“no.”

the project wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t looking to create any bad blood. still, you could feel minghao’s gaze on you; intense, searching for any sign of dishonesty in your answer through your features. if he does find any, he chooses not to call you out on it.

the tension in the air is thick, palpable even as he continues to go through the photos, dictating the edits to be made and what could be improved. you nod along, opening the notes app in your phone to jot down everything he was saying. as much as you hated to admit it, his passion and expertise are as tangible as the tension. for a bit, the disdain you have was replaced with awe.  

you’re not sure many minutes have passed until a security guard came up to both of you, telling you it was time to lock up.

“do you need a ride back?” he asks as you both exit the building.   

“i’ll be taking the bus.” you nod towards the stop directly in front of the building. “thank you for the offer.”

“it’s late.”

“i’ll be fine.”

minghao sighs. there’s clearly no convincing you. 

“alright. i hope you get back safe.”

the unmistakable sincerity in both his words and his tone surprises you for a second. you’re not sure if this is the same person you had just been going through photos with.

“i hope you do too.”

you mean it, and he can tell despite the apparent nonchalance in your expression. 

without another word, you both go your separate ways.

from reese, with love <3

oh my ynhao... this is just the beginning you've still got quite the journey ahead hehe ++ some mh backstory crumbs,, we'll get more as the act progresses ;> hope you all enjoyed reading, i'd love to know what you think of our first written part of the act !! hope you're all doing well and taking care !

[roadkillremi]

Hey omg I love the fics w mindy and randy in it you're litterally incredible!

I was wondering if you can do some sub! Randy x fem! Reader smut where reader takes Randy's virginity?

(Only if your comfortable ofc💓)

Yes yes! Thank you for asking!

I'm not good with smut sorry 🥹🫣

My Boy.

MasterList

Warnings : MINORS DNI, Language, Mentions being friends with benefits, mentions killer, p in V, unprotected.

Summary : Ask above. Randy and Reader are 18+.

After the Woodsboro murders you've all been coping differently. Sidney bought a Taser gun and studied up on the law. Randy focused on becoming a director and getting into college. But you could only focus on Randy, you'd thought maybe it was from almost dying. Even before the murders you and Randy were close in a way "friends" usually arent . You two would get caught kissing and flirting with each other all the time. But neither of you would ask the other out.

Which leaves you in the video store looking up at Randy. You took a big bite of your hot red licorice rope trying to get his attention. You were standing in the horror section for about fifteen minutes now. The licorice rope gently rests on the bottom of your lip. Randy kept looking over at you eyeing the candy rope. He knew your little game, he was a film geek after all. He smiled to himself before walking over.

"Do you need help?" He asked showing a bit of frustration. You tilted your head slightly, "No.. why?". Randy took a deep breath and looked at the movie selection.

"You've seen all of these." He says softly. He means you and him, together have seen them. You nodded, "I'm actually here to see you.". You turned towards him with a slight smile. His cheeks turned a slight pink, "Oh.. What's up?". You shrugged, "Missed ya.".

"Randy! Can you get to the front counter?!" Karen fussed. Randy nodded, "Yeah!" He called back. You rolled your eyes at her, "I think she likes you." You said as you followed him. He gave you a look, "No way. That's Creepy Karen.". You leaned in close to him, "Exactly.". You took a bite of your licorice rope, "Besides.". You leaned on the front counter towards him.

"She's been pissy ever since she saw me kiss you." You teased. Randy froze, he looked as if he was going to speak but lost it. You sighed looking down at the candy counter, "Any plans tonight?". Randy shook his head, "Gonna rewatch Dazed and Confused. That's all.". You nodded, "My folks are gone again. So if you wanna come over, it can be a date.". Randy quickly nodded, "Sure. That's if Creepy Karen allows me." He joked. You smiled, "Great just swing by after work!".

You heard a knock on your door distracting you from making your bed. You walked quickly to the front door with a giddy feeling in your stomach. You opened it with a sweet smile.

"Randy." You say stepping to the side to let him in. He walks in, "Y/N.". You close the door behind you, "Ready to watch a movie?" You ask walking towards him. He smiled, "Of course. Whatcha got to eat?". He went into the kitchen and looked around. You followed, "I have bagged popcorn and some sodas.". Randy looked at you, "Bagged popcorn?". You gave him a look, "My parents haven't gone grocery shopping okay?".

"It'll do." He said in a joking manner. You grabbed the popcorn while he grabbed some sodas. Yes I headed towards your room, "Not in the living room tonight?". You looked back at him, "It's comfier in my room.". He followed you, you threw the bag on the bed.

"What's the movie?" You asked, putting your hand out. Randy placed the VHS tape in your hand. You looked down to see Dazed and Confused.

"Seriously?" You took the tape out of its case.

"I told you I was rewatching it tonight." He smiled sitting down on your bed. You pressed play and crawled into your bed. Randy leaned back against the headboard hitting his head on the edge.

"Ow!" He whined. You laughed lightly, "Are you okay?". He glared at you, "No, your bed tried to kill me.". He touched the back of his head and lightly hissed.

"come here.." you moved closer to him trying to look at his head.

"There's no blood you're fine." You say lightly. He looks at you, "I don't feel fine.".

"Do I need to kiss it better?-" you teased. He glanced at you, "Aww call me here, Randy!" You cooed. You leaned towards him, his face went pink.

"I'm fine" he whined. You kissed his head, "There.". Randy looked at you, "Thanks.". You grinned, "It's my job.". You put your hand on his chest to push yourself back up. Randy cleared his throat, "Y/N?".

"Yes?" You asked, taking a handful of popcorn. Randy sat up, "We've been kissing a lot lately... And I was thinking-".

"I like you, Randy-" you interrupted. Randy blinked at you, "Don't interrupt me! I like you too I was gonna say we can y'know..".

"Date?" You asked with a light grin. He nodded, you smiled leaning towards him.

"Of course." You gave him a light peck on the lips. You leaned against him, "It's about time. I thought I was gonna die before you confessed your undying love for me." You teased.

"Whoa whoa! I said I liked you! Besides I was following the rules." He trailed off. You glanced at him, "Well there's no killer around...". Randy's eyes slowly widened, his cheeks went red. You smiled, "Relax. We don't have to-".

"No." He blurted. He awkwardly smiled, "I uh would like to... If you want to...". You cupped his cheek, "Of course. Remember if you want to stop at any point just tell me.". He nodded quickly, you leaned on top of collapsing your lips onto his. His hands roamed nervously on your back, you let out a soft laugh.

"What?" He whined, you smiled.

"You're so nervous. It's okay.". You say softly leaning back down. You left a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck. His breath hitched, his hand latched onto your sides. You left a small hickey on his neck before peaking up.

"Alright?" You whispered. He nodded, you sat up to take your shirt off. Randy laid in a trance, his eyes devouring you. You looked at him, "Do I need to undress you?" You teased. He looked away, his face full of embarrassment. He sat up and took off his shirt following your lead. You slid off your bottoms kicking them to the side.

"Can I?" Your hand gently moved towards his belt. He nodded, you unbuckled his belt before unbuttoning his pants. You slide down his jean revealing his batman boxers. You smile glancing at him, "Shut up" he mumbled.

"I didn't say anything." You teased. You gave him a small kiss as you climbed onto his lap. He softly groaned as your clothed core aligned with his. You teasingly brought your weight down onto him. He let out a breathy moan, he grabbed your hips keeping them still.

"Still okay?" You whisper. He nodded, "Jus' feels so good." He whispered. You let out a small laugh, you snaked your hands between the two of you. You lifted yourself up to pull him out of his boxers. Randy took heavy breaths as you grabbed his member. The tip was pink and leaking with pre-cum. You let go of him causing Randy to whine. You tsked at him, "I'm taking off my underwear. So impatient.". You shimmied the fabric off of you throwing it behind you.

You realigned yourself and gently sunk down onto him. Randy let out a whiney moan as he grabbed onto your thighs. You lowered yourself letting out a soft moan.

"Ready?" You asked softly. He nodded, you began to go up and down. Randy tensed up against you immediately. Randy squirmed, "I.... We forgot.. a condom.." he mumbled between moans. You shook your head, "It's okay.". You grabbed his shoulder for support as you sped up. His moans grew more needy and louder.

"So close... 'm sorry.." he whined.

"It's okay. You're doing so well baby" you cooed. Randy moaned in response, "Feels s' good." He moaned. He pushed himself up a bit out of need, "You... You can cum." You offered. Randy shook his head, "What about you?". He continuously tried to push his hips up into you as he held himself back. You moaned out softly, "I'm close too..". Randy nodded and took it as confirmation to continue to push his hips up.

He whined and sped up as he released into you. He leaned back letting out a moan. Your thighs were shaking lightly as you continued to bounce on him.

"How did you like it?" You softly asked. Randy stared up at the ceiling, "So fucking good..".

[magnus-vitalis]

Not sure I mentioned it on this account but my old one was deleted or something so allow me to explain something brief before going into this post.

I am a big fan of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. I love animation with a passion, and have been taking film classes for 2 years now to become a director so I may make my own cartoons. I helped to fund the Ramshackle pilot (which some may not know, but the webcomic is fantastic, highly recommend it) and I quite enjoyed Long Gone Gulch pilot and currently enjoy Murder Drones. Indie animation recently has been excellent.

That said, I want to mention Lackadaisy.

Oh Lackadaisy, if only I had the words to express just how much I adore you! This pilot comes from a webcomic that started when I was like, a toddler, sometime in the early 2000s (I am 18 now but that's irrelivent). Lackadaisy's pilot came out last week on YouTube, I caught it 6 hours after it uploaded, and let me tell you.

It began, Rocky was introduced first, and I just fell in love. Rocky is such a wonderful character, a thespian, a lunatic in a way, oh I just love him dearly! His friends Ivy and Freckles? Perfect sweethearts, love em to death, but this post isn't about that.

I wanted to make this post because people are (supposedly) comparing Lackadaisy to Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. Truthfully I haven't seen any of the comparisons, only people mentioning them, and I'd like to explain why I think the comparisons are being made.

I belive the reason the comparisons are happening, even though they are VERY different from each other, is that Hazbin Hotel came first. It was a pilot that got so much attention, so much love and adoration along with plenty of controversy, but this combined gave it popularity. Hazbin Hotel got ATTENTION. It was an indie animation, but it was of good quality and decently entertaining, even if it was a bit offensive to some, but to do well you have to take risks.

Hazbin Hotel, with it's popularity, had quickly brought attention to indie animation. People started to notice that, hey, anyone can make something, and with enough effort, it can be GOOD! And with that, animators started taking risks. They decided to risk putting time, effort, money, everything they had into making a pilot, just one, but one would be enough, one is all they needed, because now indie animators had people's attention. People wanted more. More unique, fun shows made by people who would put in the effort, the soul needed to make something good. Streaming service don't do that anymore. They want to play it safe, stick to what we know, which is why there are so many ugly, low quality adult animations, but nothing as good as Lackadaisy.

Hazbin Hotel, though fairly controversial, brought indie amination out of the dark and into the spotlight. It paved the way for animators to make something they have always wanted to make but were to afraid to do, or to even make something new they never would have thought about if it weren't for the sudden love indie animation was receiving.

Another thing, I noticed people calling Hazbin Hotel "bad" animation wise, and I'd like to add: it's not. It isn't bad, it's just not to some folk's preferences, and that's okay. Hazbin Hotel's pilot was sharp, fast, a little strange, but it wasn't bad. The animation to me feels more modern, like they were Taki g advantage of what you can do with computers in animation now, meanwhile Lackadaisy feels nostalgic, smooth, soft, comforting, like the old hand-drawn new frame every time old Disney type animation, and of course that's going to recieve more positive feedback, nostalgia and comfort always do.

All of the indie pilots you see on YouTube are good in their own way. Hazbin Hotel was so good it got picked up by A24 and is therefore no longer indie! Each show, each pilot, has been excellent in their own ways, and each one deserves all the love it can get. We should all stop worrying about which is better, which might be too offensive, and focus on which ones we like. You can ignore the ones you don't like and focus your love on the ones you do like, in fact you'll be happier if you do that!

The era of indie animation is here, and it going to be excellent. Please, go show your love for the indie animations of your choice. They deserve the love.

I am so happy we can live in a time with such quality, but I am also sad that there isn't many willing to fund these creators.

Sorry for the rambling, I am just feeling very passionately right now. Animation has been my dream longer than I can remember.

[twistedoverbloat]

Okay, Vil director making a new spy movie but need someone new to make the trailer theme song for said movie and Vil basically asked fem!singer Yuu to make a song for them and they'll pay handsomely if it's all go well and they sang Skyfall rock version from our last night

Vil Director love it so much that they changed the plot of the movie and Vil supposed to act as the villain but now of a twist ending they where the hero all along and the movie is a block buster hit in history

Yuu: *looking at all the zeros in the pay check* oh my seven I could buy a good house now-

Vil: so will you do it?

Yuu: *rushing to grab their mic* GIVE ME A DAY AND ILL GET IT DONE-

The Villian's love.

Yuu walked into the studio where Neige and Vil along with the director of the move were there. Yuu shook his hands and he asked them to go into the recording booth. They did and the Director gave them the ok to start.

"This is the end. Hold your breath and count to ten. Feel the earth move and then. Hear my heart burst again!"

The director already loved the song so far he nodded to the music. Neige tapped his hands a little and everyone was watching them as Yuu got into the music.

"For this is the end. I've drowned and dreamt this moment! So overdue, I owe them! Swept away, I'm stolen!"

Vil smirked as Yuu hit the high note at the end. This would fit perfectly with the movie.

"Let the sky fall! When it crumbles! We will stand tall! And face it all together!"

Everyone was watching them in love with the music "This is perfect!" A girl whispered to her partner in making music. He nodded at her agreeing.

"Let the sky fall! When it crumbles! We will stand tall! And face it all together at Skyfall! (At Skyfall)"

Everyone was just staring as Yuu didn't focus on them just the music. And boy did it work because Yuu can't work with everyone looking at them-

"Skyfall is where we start. A thousand miles and poles apart. Where worlds collide and days are dark! You may have my number, you can take my name! But you'll never have my heart!"

The Director thought about the Movie how the Hero made the Female lead fall for him saving her from an obsessed Villian. Why not make it the other way around? Where the Hero is the Villian?

"Let the sky fall! (let the sky fall) When it crumbles! (when it crumbles) We will stand tall! And face it all together!"

And when the Hero took her away the Villian began to tear down the world looking for the one who he loves.

"Let the sky fall! (let the sky fall) When it crumbles! (when it crumbles) We will stand tall And face it all together at Skyfall!"

And now their facing eachother its a big scuffle but the Villian wins but not with out a fatal blow to the stomach.

"Let the sky fall. When it crumbles. We will stand tall."

The Femal lead sees this and breaks down and hits the Hero with a pipe for hurting the oen she loves.

"Where you go I go. What you see I see. I know I'd never be me. Without the security. Of your loving arms! Keeping me from harm! Put your hand in my hand! And we'll stand!"

He loved how Yuu hit the high note at the end of the verse. This made him this that this is the Villian telling the Female lead this, he never really known love but she changed all of that.

"Let the sky fall! (let the sky fall), When it crumbles! (when it crumbles), We will stand tall! And face it all together at Skyfall."

Amd with that it was the Villian's last breath. Devastated the Female lead kills herself since she can't bear to live in a world with out her lover.

"Let the sky fall! We will stand tall! At skyfall!"

When Yuu finished the Director jumped out out of his seat and clapped so loud as he wiped tears of joy. When Yuu got out of the booth he shook their hands so fast "THIS IS PERFECT!! WHATS YOUR NAME KID?" He asked loudly everyone still looking in shock at Yuu with their vocals. They smiled and said "My name is Yuu (lastname)!" He smiled "WELL YUU (LASTNAME) I WANT YOU TO MAKE THE SOUND TRACKS!" Yuu gasped and nodded "YES SIR!" He laughed and patted their back.

Turning to Vil he thanked him "You never disappoint me when you suggest to bring someone in!" Vil nodded and smiled "Of course I'm a difficult person to please so I wouldn't chose just somebody." He nodded and Neige smiled at Yuu. He welcomed them to the team and Vil got between them "Come Yuu to my room." And so you did.

The Directer then told the team about the new storyline for it and they agreed and rushed to get it done Vil was now the main lead and Neige the second. Neige was happy for Vil since he never gets then but knew better then to say anything to him.

Yuu and everyone who worked on it were the first ones to see the movie. Everyone complemented Yuu on their song at the end and the rest they made for the movie.

What was even better was that other companies asked for Yuu to make songs for them and sing some too! They even got scouted by a singing industry! Vil told them that he'll be their helper to find a good company to work for. Yuu thanked him but he stopped them, saying it's fine.

[bro-ken-spoon]

Fic Time!

Hello fellow Marble Hornets enjoyers, I have been posting a fic a day on A03 for the Sicktember event, which you can find the link to here! However! I am most proud of the first one in that series, so I thought I'd go ahead and post that on here for more clout because I crave those sweet, sweet interactions. Anyways! I'm gonna put it here under the cut, but prompt number one was "Do you know how to take care of a sick person?" so if that sounds fun and you like Jam, you might like this one! If you do, feel free to message me here and let me know! Thanks!

“I’m just going to go over there for the night,” Tim was saying as he filled a duffle bag with clothes and an assortment of toiletries. He ignored Brian’s pointed look at him and continued to focus all of his energy on the task at hand.

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Brian asked, standing in the doorway to Tim’s room and watching him with a bemused smile. He stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“Alex said he was going to help out but he’s probably out doing all that director-y stuff he does, I can’t reach him. Someone needs to be there just in case…I mean, you’re gonna be a doctor, right? Would you leave a flu patient alone overnight? It’s just the rational thing to do!” Tim argued. He was right, but he also knew what Brian was getting at. 

“And I, the medical student, would not be the obvious choice to help out because….?” Brian asked, that teasing smile still on his face. Tim scowled at him. 

“You have to be up early. I can stay as late as I need.” Tim said, zipping up the bag. He pushed past Brian, headed for the front door, but Brian side-stepped in front of him before he could make it out. 

“Tim. Do you know how to take care of a sick person?” He asked. Tim scowled again, but Brian didn’t waver.

“Of course I do. I mean, I can figure it out. It can’t be that hard.” Tim tried again to push past Brian, but the latter could be very stubborn when he needed to be. The most infuriating part was that his friendly demeanor hadn’t wavered. He still seemed to genuinely want to help Tim, even if that help was unwanted and about something Tim very much did not need to deal with. 

“Aren’t you going to bring anything? Canned soup, a thermometer, some over the counter medication…?” Brian trailed off, gesturing into Tim’s kitchen, where he’d neglected to even look in his haste. 

“I was just going to use his. Wouldn’t that be the best idea for like, cross-contamination or whatever?” Tim asked. Brian laughed.

“Dude. It’s Jay Merrick . Guaranteed, he hasn’t got any of that. He might have some ramen, maybe. ” Brian said. Tim shrugged. He couldn’t argue with that one. “Here, I’ll help you pack some up. Where do you keep your grocery bags?” 

Tim pointed to a drawer in the kitchen, getting one out while Brian rummaged through his other cabinets, occasionally pulling out certain items and setting them on the counter. Tim started bagging them. 

“I’m just worried about him. That’s all.” Tim said after a moment. Brian’s amusement changed into something closer to understanding. 

“I know. But he’s going to be okay. If you ask me, you should be more worried about why your boyfriend didn’t get a flu shot this year.”

“He’s not my-” Tim started, then sighed deeply.

“I know, but you want him to be.” Brian pointed out, “Look, I’m not going to rush you, buddy. I don’t know what you’ve been through, I just know it wasn’t good. But I also have eyes, and I can see that you two care a lot for each other. And as much as I’m making fun of you right now, I think it’s sweet.” 

Tim ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. He supposed Brian was right. If this was what having a normal life was, well…he did want it. Brian picked up the grocery bags and handed them to Tim, who pulled the loops through his arm.

“So, go over there and show him you care. And if you get confused on how to do that, you got my number.” 

“Thanks,” Tim said, walking to the door. Before he left through it, he turned back, “Seriously, thanks.” 

“Anytime. But I’m staying in your house and stealing your food as payment,” Brian said, plopping himself down on the couch.

“Seems fair,” Tim said. He made his way to the car, ready to face whatever awaited him at Jay’s apartment.

[everystephoftheway]

camp cloudtop: chapter two

Chapter two!! I will most likely not post a chapter every day as this continues (I'm posting as I'm writing; I don’t have any backlog yet), but I didn’t want to wait like someone who maybe has any self control. If I do gain some backlog, I'll work out a schedule. Thank you for the likes and positivity on the first chapter! Enjoy!!

This can be found on ao3 as well.

Camp Director Gilmore addressed the group for a lengthy half hour, consistently moving left and right across the stage and switching up his eye line like any proficient public speaker would. “Miresen the campers begin to arrive, so this weekend is for all of you. Tomorrow we shall focus on all the practical skills–learning your schedules, getting to know these Glorious Grounds–but today...” he paused with an arched brow and wide smile, “...today is of the social variety.”

Keyleth glanced over at Vax, now sitting to her left in the middle of this large group of staff. He seemed amused by their boss, his cheeks pressing into his eyes from his smile. With the barest turn of his chin, he matched her glance and Keyleth was quick to turn away, not wanting to seem like she was staring. 

“Here at Camp Cloudtop we are known for our friendly, put together, amiable, trustworthy staff. This year shall be no different! Each pairing of junior and senior counselors will spend the day building bonds that not even the Calamity could sever. I did my best to put together those I thought would thrive, and, let’s be honest, I am very good at my job.” 

Vax was the one to glance over first this time, and Keyleth made a very concerted effort to keep her eyes straight on Gilmore. We can’t be crazy, okay? It’s exciting, he’s very cute, he definitely seems like he could be a friend, but we are professionals! You will interact with him just like he’s anyone else you’ve ever interacted with…Well, maybe we can try to be less…just stick to less. 

“This side of the room,” Gilmore parts the crowd down the middle with a gesture of his hand and a puff of purple magic pushes one half toward the right wall, “will be headed to the gymnasium and pool for some physical activities and games, while this side,” Keyleth grabbed onto her chair and couldn’t stop a squeal as her half of the room was shoved to the left, “will stay here for some intellectual activities and games. After lunch, we will switch. Let’s get to it!”

“Oh, come on,” Vex slouched back in her seat, arms folded as the other half of the counselors and staff filed out of the main entrance at the back of the room. “Why couldn’t we get the fun side?” 

“He said we’ll be switching,” Vax shrugged. “We’d be doing both either way.”

“I’m perfectly happy to stay here.” Percy leaned forward so he could look at the twins. “Physical activity is not quite my purview.”

“And yet here you are, a camp counselor.” Vex arched an eyebrow, but something in the way she looked at Percy softened her features. 

“You say that like I had a choice in the matter.”

“What about you?” Vax turned to Keyleth then, and she turned around to check if he could be speaking to literally anyone else before she realized that was super dumb, and turned back to answer.

“Me? Oh, um, I like physical activity.” She could hear the muffled amused chuckle from Vex, but she pretended like she didn’t. “Being out in nature is always nice. I’m not the most graceful, but…”

“What’s that for?”

She looked past Vax and Vex to see Percy pointing at her wrist where a small tattoo of a set of antlers adorned her skin in brown and red inks. 

“Oh, that’s–”

“Hello, ladies and gentleman! And all those who prefer otherwise. Welcome to Camp Cloudtop!” Another man adorned in purple came to the front of the stage, this one no shorter than some of the kids they would soon be in charge of. Presumably of similar age to Gilmore, he had mousey brown hair tied back in a short ponytail, and sideburns that laid long against his cheeks. 

He strung his lute and a bright, purple-pink hand moved around everyone’s chairs until they were all sitting in a circle, Keyleth squished between Vax and another counselor she hadn’t met before. 

“My name’s Scanlan Shorthalt, your renowned Music Director, and I just have one question for all of you. Are ya ready to break the ice?”

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 14

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

Notes: Please remember to read the tags/warnings listed and read/avoid as best for you. YOU are responsible for the content you chose to consume on the internet.

<<<>>>

Chapter 14

<<<>>>

He could have just heated up another damned can of soup, but he wanted comfort food, so kugel it was. He forced himself to also prepare roasted broccoli, because he heard his aunt’s voice chiding him not to eat just noodles for dinner. He also prepped a steak to broil for Stephen, because he was apparently on thin ice as it was.

He’d made his list after he’d finished his work in the yard and set everything to rights from the dinner party and did a load or two of laundry. The list had been surprisingly difficult; Peter wasn’t used to making waves so stopping himself from arguing his way out of asking for something was hard.

“I’d say yes, Peter.”

Peter had a hard time believing that, but Stephen had sounded so sincere…

He wanted to throw something, but he’d already screamed into a pillow twice since waking up. What was the point of a tantrum? It wouldn’t accomplish anything except to wear himself out.

Not every marriage contracted through the BCSS was so damn complicated, he was sure. Statistically, failed marriages from BCSS couples were the exception rather than the rule. Only two in ten marriages annulled after the initial year, and that was rounding up generously. Moreover, more than a few of those annulments were inevitably followed by a regular wedding.

Why was his marriage so hard, even if it was probably only going to last the year? Was something wrong with him? Was he just subject to Parker Luck?

When he heard the familiar sound of Stephen’s Buick pulling into the driveway, he braced himself and said a silent prayer for his ass.

But when Stephen came into the kitchen, he held the most beautiful bouquet of flowers Peter had ever seen. He handed them to Peter who took them, stunned.

“I’m sorry.”

What?

“There’s a lot that we need to discuss, but for now, I want to say that I’m sorry.”

“O-okay.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you with dinner?”

What was going on?

“Not really? I guess pick out your wine like usual? I made kugel, which in this case is an egg noodle casserole, and I roasted some broccoli. I also have a steak filet broiling for you, if that helps you pick.”

Stephen looked as if he was piecing things together. “And you’re not eating a steak as well because of the food rules you follow?”

Peter nodded, surprised. “Kashrut. I don’t mix meat and dairy in the same meal and this kugel recipe I’ve used has butter and sour cream.”

“Then how do you ensure you get enough protein with the meal?”

“There are eggs in it, too. Eggs are neutral.”

“Okay.” Stephen said with a nod, seemingly understanding. “And you’ve been able to get adequate nutrition since we’ve married?”

Was Stephen okay?

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Yeah, it’s been fine. Not having to worry about money for food helps a lot.”

“Good.”

Stephen grabbed a bottle of wine and Peter found a vase to put the flowers in along with some water. They really were a gorgeous bunch of flowers and Peter decided to put the vase on the dining room table. He finished setting the table and then fixed both his and Stephen’s plates. He was about to return for a beverage when Stephen strolled into the dining room and held out a cherry fizzy water to him. “I saw we were out of lemon, so I grabbed one of the others.”

Wordlessly Peter took the fizzy water and sat down.

When Stephen began asking him about his day over dinner Peter had the thought that perhaps he was somehow in an episode of The Liminal Zone. Sure, they’d talked over dinner before, and during some evenings when they’d play a board game and listen to Rex Gladstone, Ace Detective. But while those times were pleasant and companionable, conversation was always useless stuff, never anything personal.

Peter wasn’t sure what Stephen was up to, but eventually his answers grew less stilted, and he even returned some questions until they were having a pleasant conversation.

“The flowers are nice,” Peter said when there was a lag in subjects.

“I’m glad you like them,” Stephen said. “I’ve only used the florist here a handful of times, but it’s good little place.”

“Are you dying?” Peter blurted out the question.

“What? No!” Stephen said, startled. “I’m not dying,” he added emphatically.

“Am I dying?”

Stephen turned his gaze heavenward in frustration. “How the hell would I know that?” He saw Peter watching him cautiously and sighed. “No, you’re not dying either. No one is dying.”

“It’s just, you’re not acting like yourself and usually when people do that it means something’s really wrong.”

“How am I acting, then?” Stephen asked, an eyebrow raised.

Tread carefully, Peter warned himself.

“You’re not being a total… uh, schmuck.” Peter said, pleased he caught himself before calling Stephen an asshole.

“I have my moments,” Stephen said with a snort of amusement. “I like the seasoning you added to the broccoli.”

“Oh. Thanks. It’s called za’atar. One of the grocery stores back in Midtown used to sell it. None of the stores here do, so I looked up the ingredient mix and just made my own.”

“Do you do that often?” Stephen asked. “Just make your own?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes it’s just easier, or I want something but the way it’s offered isn’t kosher and substitutions are easy enough. It usually ends up being a lot cheaper in the long run, too.”

Stephen took a moment to consider this.

“Look, I know you’re not poor, but I kinda grew up that way, so it’s ingrained in me,” he explained.

“There’s a kosher butcher in Baxterville called Fleischman’s which is about twenty minutes away. Dr. Grimm gave it his highest recommendation. I’ll set up an account with them.”

“Oh! Okay,” Peter said, surprised. He hadn’t really thought Stephen would bother to ask Ben.

“Did we have any lemon bars or cookies left over?”

“Y-yeah. I can go make a plate.” He made to stand up when Stephen motioned him to stay sitting.

“I’ll get them. They’re in the cold cabinets?”

“Yeah. Right side, second shelf.”

Peter was so confused. Just what the hell had happened to Stephen while he was at work? Why was he acting so nice?

Okay, sure, Stephen wasn’t exactly mean, but he was strict and often aloof. Stephen just seemed to internalize so much, which his Aunt May and Uncle Ben had never done. Peter only did it because he didn’t want to be a burden.

If Peter were to be honest with himself, he liked the structure Stephen’s strict and controlling nature provided, especially after the upheaval his life had undergone the past few months. He’d have to ask for a refresher on the rules Stephen had laid out the first night, because clearly his mind had been elsewhere, but all in all, nothing about his life right now was unreasonable. Annoying sometimes, sure. But not unreasonable.

It wasn’t as if he’d gone into signing himself over to the BCSS blind, after all.

Peter quickly adjusted himself, the metal of the cock cage now almost soothing. Even the way it would dig back against him when something aroused him sent little shivers up his spine. Maybe he was messed up in the head.

Stephen returned with the container of desserts from the previous night and wasted no time in selecting a lemon bar. “I have no idea how I ever lived without these,” he said before taking a bite.

“I’m glad you like them,” Peter said. “They’re really simple to make.”

Dinner finished; Peter began clearing the table. To his surprise, Stephen helped. He carried his own plate as well as the dessert container into the kitchen.

“You can just leave it on the counter,” Peter told him. “Really, I’ve got this.”

Practically exiled from his own kitchen, Stephen went to his den. Dinner had been pleasant, much more so than he’d expected. The only downside had been seeing the flowers which only served to remind him of how ridiculously he’d behaved.

Stephen tuned the PymCo. console to a music station he enjoyed and grabbed a book. Peter clearly had the clean-up well in hand. The conversation they needed to have still loomed, but he didn’t feel overly anxious about it.

He’d gotten through three chapters when Peter came in, carrying a notebook. Stephen marked his place and set his book down and reached over to turn the volume of the music down. He waited for Peter to sit down in the other chair.

“You’re good at that,” Peter said.

He tilted his head in question.

“At giving something your full attention,” Peter said.

“Well, in this case it’s a person, not a thing,” Stephen reminded him.

“You really don’t see me as property?” Peter asked.

“Legally, you are. It’s probably the most distasteful bit about marriages sanctioned by the Bureau,” Stephen said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t see you as a person, Peter. I didn’t select an object to marry, I selected a person. We can argue semantics all night long, but in the end, in the eyes of the government I own you which means I’m legally responsible for you and you are legally beholden to me.” He paused. “And we’re both, therefore, somewhat under the thumb of the Bureau.”

Peter thought about it and Stephen would swear there was an instant where the young man had smirked.

“You really don’t like being told what to do, do you?” Peter asked.

“I hate it,” he admitted. “Some people thrive on it and it makes them no less worthy than anyone else. I’m a doctor, Peter; I live to control.”

“I made that list, if you wanted to see it,” Peter offered, holding out the notebook.

“Read it to me,” Stephen said. “You have my full attention, after all.”

“It’s not that long,” Peter said. “It was hard to write out.”

“Why?” He was genuinely curious.

“I guess I’m just used to not asking for things. I never had that much growing up, and I didn’t want to burden my aunt and uncle, so whenever I knew I could do without, I did.”

That would change, Stephen decided. There was no reason why Peter should have to deny himself things just for fear of asking. He’d just have to teach Peter to use his words and ask for what we wanted. He almost smiled; it was a goal he’d enjoy meeting.

“What’s first?” he asked.

“I don’t know how practical it is, but another refrigeration cabinet would help. I’ve been able to separate things well enough but fitting things and keeping the division gets hard,” Peter said. “But I can always work around it,” he hastened to add.

“I’ve made plans to have another one installed,” Stephen said. “I spoke with Tony this afternoon and he’ll oversee the installation personally next month, like he did the install of the rest of the kitchen.”

“Who’s Tony?” Peter asked.

“Stark.”

“You’re fucking joking!” Peter exclaimed. “You actually fucking know Tony Stark? The Tony Stark?!”

Stephen sighed. “I seem to recall telling you to keep your language civil,” he said.

“Shit. Sorry,” Peter said. “But like, is it really Tony Stark? You’re not lying to me?”

The two of them meeting would test his patience as never before, he just knew it. “Except for when I’d implied that I read your profile the day we married, I’ve never lied to you. And I won’t ever lie to you.”

“So, you do know Tony Stark. And he’s coming here?” Peter asked.

“Yes, I know Tony, and yes, he and his wife Sharon will be visiting next month. While they’re here, he’ll oversee the new cabinet installation. And he’ll probably ask you all sorts of questions on setting up a kosher kitchen, since he’s decided that’s something he’s going to market.”

“I inspired Tony Stark?!” Peter's eyes were dreamy.

Oh, for fuck’s sake! His husband had a science crush. Wonderful.

“Something like that,” he allowed. “He’s just another man, Peter.” Who thankfully was married and so damned in love with his wife, anyone else’s admiration never quite registered.

“He’s a genius,” Peter insisted. “And I get to meet his wife, too?”

“Sharon Carter-Stark,” Stephen said. “She’s a lovely woman.” He smiled fondly.

“Carter… Any relation to the one you can’t stand?”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from narrowing, nor the sneer from forming. “Her cousin,” he said.

“So, you like one and not the other?” Peter asked. “Are they that different?”

“Night and day,” Stephen said. Not wanting to get into that particular subject, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “What else is on your list?”

He heard Peter whisper “I’m actually going to meet Tony Stark!” before he perused his notebook again. “Um, kind of the same as with the cabinet, a pair of deep freezers would be nice. If the basement could hold them. I don’t know how it’s wired down there.”

“It will take a month or two to finish out the basement, but yes, that’s doable,” Stephen said. He could also add in a treadmill. He didn’t like the idea of Peter running out in the elements, especially because given how unseasonably warm late September and early October were, he had a strong suspicion winter would be brutal.

Okay. He didn’t like the idea of other people ogling Peter, either.

Peter had a handful of additional things on his list, all of which were easy to accommodate. Their Friday evenings were already low-key, apart from the sex afterwards. What Peter didn’t bring up surprised him.

“You don’t need time to go to whatever church thing or whatnot?” Stephen asked.

“Shul,” Peter said. “Or synagogue. Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m not exactly the most devout guy out there.”

“Unless it’s your kashrut thing,” Stephen said, trying to understand.

“Pretty much,” Peter said.

“Can I ask why you follow the one but not the other?”

Peter looked surprised, presumably at his asking for permission to ask a question. He took his time, obviously wanting to choose the right words.

“I lost everything,” he said, finally. “In like, under four months. So, when I ended up signing myself over to the BCSS, and saw that by their own laws they have to accommodate dietary needs for anyone in their custody, it became something to cling to, you know? I’d had everything taken from me, but this one thing I could still keep. So, I do.”

“Like foregoing sour cream and butter on a baked potato because you’re already eating beef,” Stephen said, recalling the alarming amount of salt and pepper Peter had seasoned his potato with before spooning over some of the juice from the beef during their first dinner together as married men.

Peter nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a baked potato with sour cream and butter, but I wanted the tenderloin more.”

“And it’s why you use so many dishes when you cook?”

Peter actually laughed. “Yeah. Some Jewish families actually have two kitchens.” He paused. “I don’t need another kitchen; the set-up now is adequate. It passed Dr. Grimm’s inspection, after all, and he’s much more devout than me.”

True enough, Stephen thought. “Well, I’m sure Tony’s doing all kinds of research right now and will launch his latest line to great fanfare.”

“You really think he’s serious about it?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s completely serious about it,” Stephen said. “He’s never one to turn down a challenge.”

They talked some more, and it seemed as though things were settling nicely.

“So, what happens now, with the whole punishment thing?” Peter asked.

“I think that will be up to you,” Stephen said. “Do you understand why you’re getting disciplined?” he asked.

Peter nodded. “I should have asked for help when it came to the kitchen,” he said. “I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d say no or didn’t want to hear, even if you’d been rude that first day. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll get through it.”

“So, what part is up to me?” Peter asked.

“Either a spanking or you don’t come for a week,” Stephen said. “It’s your choice.”

Peter pouted, and it was adorable. “Is ‘neither’ a choice?”

He almost laughed. “No, it’s definitely not.”

Peter considered. “I guess the second one. I can wait a week,” he said.

“Very well,” Stephen said. “I’m going to keep reading. You’re welcome to join me until it’s time for bed.”

It was just after nine when Peter went up to bed. He went through his routine of cleaning his face and making sure his clothes were neatly folded before putting them in the hamper. Then he pulled on a pair of sleeping shorts, a loose tee, and got into bed. He was asleep before Stephen came upstairs.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw that Stephen’s side of the bed was untouched. The only mussing of the covers was from how Peter tossed in the night. It felt cool to the touch.

Confused, Peter went ahead and went downstairs to start breakfast, wondering if Stephen had fallen asleep in his armchair. When he checked the den, Stephen wasn’t there. Maybe he’d been called in to the hospital early?

Hungry himself, Peter started making breakfast. He’d just finished cooking the turkey sausage patties he’d prepped the day before and had sliced challah soaking in a coconut-milk custard so he could make French toast, he heard the shower upstairs turn on.

Did Stephen actually sleep in the guest room?

When Stephen came downstairs dressed and ready for the day, Peter handed him his cup of coffee and started making up a plate for him.

“You didn’t come to bed,” Peter said while they were eating. His French toast dripped with melted vegan buttery spread and syrup, pooling by the turkey sausage. Stephen’s application of real butter and syrup was much more dignified, and he cut his toast into reasonable-sized pieces.

“I did some work in my office and was so tired all I could think about was the closest bed, which was in the guest room,” Stephen said.

It wasn’t a lie, Peter could tell. But he didn’t think that was all there was to it. “Do I need to wash the sheets?”

“I don’t think so.” He motioned his fork to one of the turkey sausage patties on his plate. “This isn’t pork. What’s in it?”

“Ground turkey with some turmeric, sage, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and maple syrup.”

Stephen took another bite of his. “It’s very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Any particular plans for today?” Stephen asked.

So, the conversation wasn’t just a yesterday’s dinner kind of thing.

“Well, it’s Ava’s week to host our radio hour, so I’ll go next door for a bit after I finish my chores here. She said she’ll teach me to crochet if I help her with some mending, so that should be interesting.” He shrugged. “Did you have anything you wanted for dinner this evening?”

“I liked the chicken and dumplings you made last week,” Stephen said. “I wouldn’t say no to them again.”

Peter ran the logistics in his head. “That should be doable.”

Stephen took his empty plate and mug over to the sink and stopped by the table to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Have a good day.”

He left and as he drove away, Peter had the same question in his head as he’d had when Stephen had come home the previous evening.

Was Stephen okay?

[elk96]

~STAY~ Oneshots.

Pairing: Cilian Murphy x OC (no offence to Cillian's family, this is just a fictional little story)

Warnings: injury, angst, illness, mentions of cheating? Also, English is not my first language, and I do not have a medical background.

Word Count: 1.430

Please like or leave a comment if you want, positive or negative ( please take it easy on me), it would mean a lot.

The rain was hitting on the window glass mercilessly, creating a low buzz, which in the quiet of his trailer, seemed unbearable. Cillian tried hard to focus on the drops, on the hum of the air conditioner, on his breathing, on anything really. He'd been shaking violently for quite some time now, after the painkiller had worn out. The fever refused to subside and his shoulder throbbed in pain with every breath. He closed his eyes, hoping he could focus on something more pleasant and get his mind off of his suffering, or even get some sleep. A soft knock on the door made him shuffle on his bed, moaning in pain.

"Who is it"?, he asked under his breath.

The door opened with a slow groan and for a moment the sound of the rain grew louder.

"It's Ellen", murmured the figure, opening the lamp next to the door. She clenched her jaw immediately, seeing him drenched in sweat, his eyelids heavy, with wrinkles of pain graved on his face."I... I heard...about the accident", she stummered. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, I can let you sleep if you want".

"No, don't leave", said Cillian right away.

Ellen nodded heavily and took of her shoes. "Do you want me to bring you something? Some water, a cup of tea, anything".

Cillian shook his head, tried to silence his groans and his laboured breathing. But now that Ellen was with him, his heart was full of loneliness, and fear that she might leave. Leave him alone again.

"It hurts", he whispered embarrassed, feeling the tears burn down his cheeks.

Ellen knelt besides him, trying to hide her own tears as her hand touched his forehead gently, wiping a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

"Jesus Cill, you're burning up. I'll give you  febrifuge, alright?

"The doctors gave me a while ago".

"You need to take again, your fever's high again", she said standing up and heading for the bathroom.

"I don't-I don't have medicine", he whispered, his voice getting stuck on his lungs. "Ellen, they... didn't... My shoulder. They didn't fix it".

Ellen walked back to him with long strides and knelt besides him once again. Her hand moved from his forearm to his shoulder, and then, she finally realised why his posture seemed so weird.

"They didn't put it back in place"?, she growled with clenched teeth.

"No, the director... I just wanted to get outta there. Be alone".

"Be alone... Be alone! If I find him  tomorrow he will be alone, and in a very dark place. You have to go to a hospital Cillian".

Cillian shook his head, as a pathetic whine left his lips.

"Then I'll have to do it Cill. I know how to do it, it's happened to me a million times".

"Alright. Okay".

"The pain will ease soon, you'll see", Ellen promised, placing one hand on his back and the other on his shoulder. Her eyes were locked in his as they shared the same, anxious breath.

-On the count of three, okay? One... two... Three-

Cillian jumped up in pain, swallowing a scream so as not to wake the others fast asleep. That crack, he thought would haunt him in his dreams.

"That's it, it's over. It's over...", Ellen tried to comfort him and at the same time her hand moved up to his forehead again. "I'm sorry I hurt you".

"It had to be done", said Cillian trying to catch his breath. Adrenaline and pain rushed through every part of his body, aggravated by the fever. He felt as if he was going to faint any moment now, his vision blurred by dark spots, his head heavy.

Ellen disappeared into the kitchen, and quickly came back with a glass of water. Leaving the glass on the floor, she pulled out of her pocket a pack of pills, and a long strip of cotton bandage. She helped Cillian sit back so she could give him the medicine.

"You thought I'd leave you helpless like that"?, she asked with a slight smirk while she wrapped Cillian's shoulder with the bandage. Cillian winced in pain as she lifted his arm, but tried his best to stay quiet throughout the whole process. He felt grateful. Very grateful to have her there.

"Thank you", he murmured sipping his water.

"Don't even mention it Cillian. And you should stop being so nice with people you know"? Ellen said refering to his submissive behaviour towards the director, and the medical crew who had miserably failed to do their jobs. "Of course, there's no need to mention that you're not showing up on set tomorrow, right? You will rest, even though there might be some screaming. Don't worry, it will be me, taking action", she smirked. "How's the pain"?

"Better", Cillian said half-heartedly, and it didn't need much thought for Ellen to understand that he was lying. She brought her lips to his forehead, holding his hand for a while as she tried to ease the shivers that run through his body. The moonlight that fell though the curtains illuminated so unnaturally his firm jawline, his desperate expressions.

"I need to go", Ellen finally said hesistantly, just to feel Cillian's grip aroung her fingers grow just a little tighter.

"Stay", he begged her with feverish eyes. "Just for this night, stay".

"Cillian...", Ellen begun to say, but her heart didn't leave her. It would be concidered scandalous, her leaving his trailer just as the sun was beginning to rise. Tim and Nadine would certainly be full of questions, which would later turn into allegations and fights between the four. But against her own rational thinking, she sat besides Cillian who continued to shake.

"It will be over soon", she whispered to him from time to time, her hands brushing along his face, but Cillian could not find peace. He tossed and turned, drifting off and back to sleep, tears staining the pillow on the course of this torturous night. He leaned his face to Ellen's neck, inhaling her smell, feeling the touch of her skin against his burning lips. Ellen shifted completely beneath him, holding him in a way she hoped was comfortable.

"Try to sleep. You'll be alright in the morning. Think of something happy. Think of Patrick and Aidan during your video call tomorrow eh? They'll be running around the house, and Nadine is gonna be trynna make them sit in front of the camera.

"Ellen I want to tell you something", said Cillian weakly and lifted his head so he could look at her. She didn't dare breathe, sensing the mood change.

"No", she cut him softly before he said the unspeakable. "We are married, we have families, we can't-...".

"It's alright. I just wanted you to know".

"You're just sick. Everything will be good in the morning, don't worry".

"I love you Ellen. I have for a long time now", Cillian whispered feeling that weight disappearing, and almost before he had finished his words, he felt her soft lips being pressed on to his. His hand rose to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss despite the pain, but Ellen retrieved her sense.

Her whole body tensed for a moment before she got up to leave, too scared of what her heart desired.

"Don't leave", a voice echoed through the trailer. "I'm sorry. I couldn't hide it anymore, but I can't being alone tonight. Please. Just for this night".

Ellen tilted her head slightly, just enough to see him struggling to breathe with his eyes half- shut.

"I'm sorry", he then said, as steadily as he could. "You're right...You're right. Goodnight".

Ellen closed her eyes, feeling her heart tremble, ready to break. Those few hours could be enough to destroy every single thing they'd built all those years, but, she... No. She couldn't leave him alone, suffering in this damn bed.

"I'll stay", she whispered and layed slowly beneath the blankets. She brought his head to her chest, while his arm was wrapped aroung her waist. Her fingers layed on his hair.

"We have kids Cillian. We can't throw everything away. But...just for tonight...I love you too. With all my heart", she whispered kissing his lips. His fever had yet to subside.

"Sleep now. You'll be better tomorrow".

"If I fall asleep, I'll lose you".

"No, don't worry. I'll be here with you all the time. I promise".

"Thank you".

"Sleep", she urged him as he finally began to relax.

"I love you".

"I love you Ellen".

[stormyoceans]

I love your posts but this time I disagree with you, I think Pete is really upset that one of his bosses put a hand on his butt or at least rubbed his whole back and that makes me think there will be more to it, but obviously not as in the novel. but before that I was genuinely curious about him

sorry, anon, let me take a moment before answering you to ask WHY ARE WE SAYING VEGAS TOUCHED PETE'S BUTT DEAR LORD WHAT AM I MISSING NOW

okay now that i got that out of the way.. i don't exactly know which posts or tags of mine are you referring to, but i definitely don't mean to say that there isn't ANY discomfort on pete's part, it would be impossible for him to be completely at ease in such a situation, not only because he clearly just got discovered SPYING, but also because vegas clearly uses touch to assert the power he has over pete, even if not directly, as heir of the minor family

i personally think that pete is very aware of this, that he DOES KNOW how vegas hides his true intentions under a mask of friendliness, which is yet another reason why he obviously isn't comfortable with vegas' hand on his back or with any words vegas says: behind that air of affability, pete can sense the danger hiding just under the surface

that being said, i really can't help but seeing more in this scene as pete ONLY feeling uneasy. i think in this case is really important to look at what the director actually showed us, and honestly the amount of focus on pete's face and all of build's micro-expressions speak of something way more complicated than simple discomfort. of course there's that as well, but also i do believe that pete feels.. if not attraction yet, then definitely some sort of pull towards vegas that maybe he can't really explain himself. this is also what i think will make a lot of difference when pete gets taken by vegas in the next episode, because in a way i do expect vegas to use touch again to assert dominance, but i feel like the way pete will react to it is gonna be wildly different than how it went in the novel (and possibly catch vegas by surprise)

then again, this is just my personal interpretation of it and i could be very wrong (for example, kim just invalidated everything i was thinking about him ;;;;;), but i think that's the fun in bring in a fandom and in watching a story as it unfolds every week: we can all exchange different opinions and ideas in-between episodes and then see what's actually gonna happen!!!

[roadkillremi]

Can you do something for the uncle randy series where randy wants gets hurt during an attack and Mindy, Chad and reader go visit him in the hospital (extra points for worried Mindy)

Yes!!! I love Uncle Randy.

This is kinda short I'm sorry.

Stupid Decisions, Stupid consequences.

Uncle!Randy X F!Reader

MasterList

Warnings : Language, mentions getting stabbed, mentions losing Randy.

Summary : the ask above.

You and Randy came down to Woodsboro during the attacks. Randy and Dewey believed they could help, that was before Dewey died..

Now you only stayed in the house and barely slept. You couldn't relive the attacks, you refused to go outside. Randy was worried sick and brought it upon himself to stop it. He created an elaborate plan where he'd stop Ghostface. Without his knowing Mindy tagged along and got hurt. And sadly so did he. You got a call from the hospital telling you that your husband was injured. You mumbled to yourself driving to the hospital. Chad sat silently in the passenger seat.

"Maybe.. he was close to catching him." Chad glanced at you. You sighed, "close to dying too..". Chad gave a sympathetic smile, "it's gonna be alright..". You tried to focus on the road and the kind words of your nephew. But it was hard when boiling emotions were inside of you.

Once you got in the hospital you stormed in. A nurse tried to stop you and protect his privacy. (Since he's a big shot director). You showed her your ID, "I'm his wife-" you blankly said. She nodded letting you storm through, Chad followed.

"Randall Meeks!" You yelled. His eyes shot up and stared at you with fear.

"Hi, honey. You look hot. Really stunning..um..". You placed your hand on your hip giving him a look.

"Imma go check on Mindy.." Chad whispered walking away. You walked towards Randy glaring at him.

"You're an idiot." You mumbled. He gently touched your arm and smiled, "I'm sorry...". You sighed, "Why'd you do that! You had me worried sick!" You fussed.

"because I was worried about you. You kept locking yourself in the room.." he turned his head to see your face better. You glanced at him, "I'm sorry..".

"Don't be. I get it. But I'm not gonna let some fucking teenage copycat scare the shit out of you." He whispered. He rubbed his thumb on your arm softly, you smiled at him.

"Where'd he hurt you?" You whisper. He looks away, "My knee.. calf area..". You sighed, "Any nerve damage?". He shrugs, "Let's hope not.".

The moment was interrupted by fussing in the hall. You looked over at the doorway, "Let me see my fucking uncle!!!" A girl yelled. You smirked and stepped outside to see Mindy trying to walk past nurses. You walk up to her, "She's okay to come in.". You place your hand on her back and walk with her towards the room. She stops and stares at the door way.

"is he mad?" She whispers. You shake your head no, "of course not..". Mindy looks up at you, "I just wanted to help...".

"I know. It's okay. It's not your fault." You whisper. She nods and walks in, "Please tell me you brought pudding." Randy smiled. Mindy smiled back, "No, they wouldn't let me take extra.". Mindy looked down at his leg, her face changed to worry guilt.

"Hey, I'm fine. I got great insurance." Randy comforted. Mindy nods, "I just wanted to help, y'know?". Randy nods , "you're fine, kid.".

"are you sure?" She asks softly.

"Yeah. I got a hot wife to take care of me." He winks at you. You raise an eyebrow, "I will not be "taking care of you".".

"You say that now."

"and I mean it, Randy. No breakfast in bed.". You warned. His face dropped into disappointment, "I'm not gonna be fine, kid.". Mindy smiled and leaned over to hug Randy.

"Well I'll see you later..bye" she smiled leaving the room. You waved and then looked at Randy.

"Why did you try to trap him by yourself?" You ask walking towards him. He patted the edge of the bed for you to sit.

"Someone had to try." He whispered. You sat down where he patted and looked forward.

"Yeah. But as a team not a solo." You say looking over at him. He tilted his head and gave a pathetic puppy dog face, "I'm sorry.". You leaned down giving him a kiss, "It's fine.. just tell me if you're gonna risk your life.". He nods, "Sure will..".

He cups your cheek bringing you closer and kissing you more. His other hand snaked around your hip. You backed up from the kiss, "You're still not off the hook.".

"What? Why?"

"there's consequences for your actions!". He looked up at you leaning towards you, "I didn't mean to scare you.". You glanced at him, "I could've lost you...". He nodded , "I know..". You turn towards him, "Sorry I yelled..".

"You're fine. I get it." He grinned. You lean your forehead on his, "Just be less stupid.".

[bluestripedspeedo]

Indiscreet – 00. Prologue Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Image credit

Series summary: Fresh off the success of his project with Nic Cage, Javi dived fully into his true passion, screenwriting. A few more hits later, his best friend is making his directorial debut with his script. Trouble comes in the form of you, a beautiful young new actress brought on to the project… and there’s an impending threat of quarantine, too.

Chapter summary: The director, Óscar Morales, invites you to dinner.  Chapter warning: Nothing spicy yet, but there’s only one bed and an age gap. For those fasting or sober, there are mentions of food and alcohol here. Words: 2,8k

Playlist: Fireplace burning through the night

Author’s note: Thank you so much to everyone who liked, reblogged, and asked to be tagged! I’m excited to finally share this baby that I’d been dreaming up for almost a year now. I'm dropping you smack dab in the middle of the timeline, but you'll get to see how they initially met on the next chapter in a few days. Special thanks to @dontshouthisnamelikehesathing @just-here-for-the-moment​ @beaucannon​ for being my first readers. Enjoy and happy TUWOMT release weekend!

Edit 14/10 - Disclaimer: I feel the need to address this concern. Óscar (Morales) isn't an RPF of Oscar Isaac. While I borrowed Isaac's first name because I couldn’t think of anything else that fit, Morales is not inspired by and does not bear any resemblance to Isaac. I initially had Isaac's look in Dune in mind when I started writing him, but in some scenes I also envisioned Edgar Ramirez. But if you imagine their looks differently than I do, go ahead and keep it that way! Cast anyone you want.

✧✧✧

FEBRUARY

“CUT!”

You stand there exasperated across your co-star who looks like he’s had enough. That was the fourteenth take. For some reason, today you just couldn’t get anything right. Lacing your shaky fingers together on your front, you wait for the crew to set up the scene - again - but the same voice announces, “Take five, everyone!”

You let out a sigh you didn’t notice you were holding and you see the director walking towards you and motioning you to another room. Here goes, you think. He’s gonna rewrite my role and I’ll barely have any lines and he’s gonna think I’m not serious enough about this and oh my god he’s gonna regret this—

“What’s up with you today? Did something happen?” Óscar Morales, the director who's personally responsible for you being here, runs his hand over his thick and graying beard.

Something happened, all right, but nothing you should know.

“Uh, no. I just couldn’t get into her headspace today, you know, it’s been really overwhelming, this is all still new for me, and you know I have trouble remembering lines sometimes, and–”

“I thought you said you’ve been practicing with Javi?”

Fuck. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just a weird day today. I don’t even have excuses. Sorry.”

“Seriously, are you okay? Do you need a break?” He asks softly.

“I’m good. Really. Just… give me 5 more minutes?”

“Okay. Sure thing. But get it right this time. We’re gonna lose the light soon. You got this, kid.” Óscar squeezes your arm and leaves you alone with your thoughts. Get it together. Do not disappoint him.

You decide to walk around the massive library to calm your jitters. Books adorn all four walls surrounding you. Curious, you pick up a leatherbound and open it to a random page. Blank. Ha! Should’ve known. You’ve heard about people buying blank books in leather spines by the foot just to decorate their “home library”. What a scam. Why bother! Everyone should have a personalized collection. Filled with books that mean something to them. Hardcovers and paperbacks stacked on top of each other without rhyme or reason. No alphabetization or color coding. Dog ears and doodles and an old bar receipt in place of a bookmark between pages… No, don’t think about him right now. Focus. 

Focus. FOCUS. What’s that line you keep forgetting? A wistful Spanish quote, then a goodbye. Fuck, you’re not even sure what it means. There goes your two on and off years of Duolingo. Javi was supposed to teach you how to say it correctly, tone and all.

“Hey, you ready?” A PA interrupts your running thoughts with a loud opening of the door.

“Yeah, sure. Oh, could you tell Óscar I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll be there in like, two minutes? Th–” The PA doesn't even let you finish your gratitude before slamming the door carelessly. Get it together. Get this one take right. Get this right and you’ll be back in your plush hotel suite, having a nice long bath with a bottle of wine, before…

✧✧

TWO NIGHTS AGO

““I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso,”” Javi’s warm, smooth voice reads the text from his phone. It's cliché. But you sound so adorable following his intonations that he could look past it. That part isn't going to be in your scene, but he's a hardliner for tone and insists that you fully understand the entire poem to deliver the dialogue.

“I like it better when you say it,” you giggle. Spread on his sofa and three glasses in (or four?), you can feel the words coming out before you fully think it through. “Not my favorite part, though.”

“You have a favorite part? Esto es muy triste,” he says, tilting his head up to you from the floor he’s sitting on, one arm now dangerously close to your leg.

“Nope… es muy romántico, Javi.”

“Ugh, you’re such a sad person,” he says in fake mocking.

“Excuse me!” you lift your head laughing.

“You know what I mean! Everything you like is so sad. Cheer up.” Javi laughs.

“Seriously, it’s romantic. He still loves her, even way after… well.”

“How does this fit into the scene anyway? And why wasn’t I consulted?” He'd come home to revisions in his emails and was about to tell Óscar to axe it all, until he read that it was your suggestion in the fine print.

“Because Óscar loves me and trusts me,” you say with a sweet smile. “And I’m gonna add my favorite line after the goodbye to my ‘boyfriend’ with your great big speech...”

“Which is?”

“”Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”” You stand up and walk towards his kitchen for your fourth (fifth?) refill.

“Oh, that’s cheesy. Cheer up,” Javi says, laughing at your consistency and cliché. He has never let anyone tweak his script in any of his previous works, no matter how big their star power is. But, whatever makes you happy.

✧✧

“See? That wasn’t hard.” Óscar says good-naturedly with a big grin. “I knew you’d nail it. That’s a wrap for today, everyone! See you all tomorrow!”

You're about to dash for your dressing room to finally change into your own clothes and go home when Óscar reaches for your elbow.

“Hey, why don’t you have dinner with us tonight?”

“I don’t know, Óscar. I’m a little tired…”

“Come on, it’s still early. We’re just gonna be at home. Give me half an hour and then we’ll go, alright?”

And how could you say no? You wouldn’t even be here if not for Óscar taking matters into his own hands when you needed someone, anyone, to pull you out of your mundane life. And you wouldn’t have even met him if not for Óscar either. Caving in, you start to do the math in your head. Maybe I’d still make it if I only stayed for an hour.

✧

Óscar notices you’re looking out the window into the vast views of rolling hills throughout the entire drive, far lost in your thoughts that he doesn’t bother to make small talk. He finally speaks up when you follow him to the front door.

“Sorry to make you do this. But we know you’re alone and probably sick of room service, so... Ava insists. I’ll drive you back after, of course. Or you could stay the night if you’re too tired later.”

“I really don’t want to burden you, Óscar.” And I wouldn’t be alone.

“I promised to take care of you. It’s really nothing.”

Óscar’s place, his rented residence for the time being, is a cottage half an hour away from the city surrounded by tall trees and seemingly endless fields of green - well, white now. When you first came here weeks ago, Ava said it’s good for the kids; they could be outside all day and Óscar wouldn’t have to worry about privacy. Javi said Óscar’s not even famous enough to worry about that - which earned him a wet willy into his ear. You thought you could see yourself living in it if you’re ever sick of the busy city life. You fell in love at first sight with the indoor-outdoor dining area with vines overhead. It reminded you of home.

“We’re here!” Óscar announces as you both take off your coat and shoes by the door when you notice a pair of men’s sneakers too large to be Óscar’s. You’ve seen the same pair on the floor of your room last week. Your breath catches in your throat.

“We’re in the living room!” answers Ava.

Following her voice, you find a familiar sight: Lightning McQueen on TV, toys scattered around the carpeted floors, and Óscar’s eldest child passed out on his favorite tío’s lap. It’s so cute. Then, as if on cue, Javi looks up at you and gives you his signature smirk before he catches himself and averts his attention to Óscar.

“He wouldn’t go to his room until you’re home.” Ava says to Óscar.

“Is that right?” he says to his sleeping son before picking him up from Javi’s lap. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you into bed.”

“Hey honey, how are you?” Ava gets up to kiss your cheeks in greeting.

“I'm good. Thanks so much for having me. I know it’s last minute…”

“Don’t worry! Javi brought us pasta and it’s too much for just us three,” she laughs. “I’m gonna tuck him in. Go ahead and dig in. You must be so hungry.”

Javi gets up and leads you into the kitchen. It's now too cold for the outdoor dining table so the island would have to do. You look at the unopened paper bags – Padella.

“I got you your favorite,” you hear Javi’s familiar, velvety voice.

“I was going to te–” you start.

“I tried ca–” he says at the same time. “Yeah, I was going to let you know I’d have to be here.”

“What for?”

“Script revisions. Might be too late for it now, though.”

“Yeah... that’s kind of my fault.” You give him a sheepish grin.

“Something happened?”

“No, I… Well, I forgot my lines... a lot. But it’s okay now... I hope.”

“You’ll be fine. We could fix it in post.”

You clear your throat, changing the subject. “So, now that we’re both here… Was this your plan? Takeout pasta for dinner?”

Javi meets your eyes and chuckles as he starts to plate the food. “More like satisfying my girl’s cravings, one way or another…” he says with a wink. My girl. You bite your lip at that, the endearment making you blush. “No, actually, I’d already booked out Daphne’s when Óscar called. He said you were coming here too, so… this is the best I could do. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You feel mushy that he remembers your blurb about loving that place and dying for pasta on set a few days ago. He’d refused to let you know where you’d be going, only that he’d pick you up at your hotel. But buying the place out for a whole night, for a date? That’s another level.

“I don’t mind this,” you tell him, gesturing to the containers. The takeaway is your go-to whenever you need a delicious, no-dress-code-required pasta fix in town. He had looked at you in bewilderment when you told him you used to line up for at least an hour just for it. How he managed to get all of these in a short time, you could guess.

He’s busy twisting the noodles to perfection, so you continue. “Well, I was planning on pampering myself and then putting on this lacy thing and slip dress I just bought, and asking you if we could just stay in,” you tease with a wicked glint in your eyes. At that, he stops his motions and his eyes immediately drop to your torso, even though nothing is showing through your sweater.

“Yeah, you do that. Tomorrow night.”

“You’re not taking me to Daphne’s anymore?”

“I mean… if that’s still what you want? We’ll need to fuel up anyway,” he says before rounding the corner and standing next to you to put a hand on your hip and caress it. “And if that’s really what you’re gonna wear, I want it off on the ride back home,” he whispers in your ear. His hand moves to your lower back and up your spine under your sweater. You close your eyes and hope you don’t whine. “I won’t let you leave my bed, so we’re gonna have to come up w–” 

“It’s my house so dibs on the ragù!” Óscar’s voice approaching from the living room startles you both, making Javi jump away from you. You cough and pretend to reach for the water pitcher, hoping you don’t appear too flushed.

“There’s only one and it’s for her.”

“Dammit. Fine.”

✧

Both you and Javi are going to win an Oscar (ha) one day for the stellar performance you put on tonight. Neither Óscar nor Ava suspect anything throughout dinner. Not when Javi stares at you a little too long. Not when he attentively refills your wine glass and switches to water without asking for your okay - like he already knows you. You laugh at stories he tells them as if you haven’t heard them before while he was massaging your tired feet on your bed weeks ago. He listens to you intently and asks you questions about your life as if you didn’t tell him the exact same things over cocktails in the past month. As far as your two hosts are concerned, neither of you knows what the other is doing in your daily life outside of the set. 

Time flies and suddenly it’s already close to midnight. “I have a morning start tomorrow, mind if you just stay here, we’ll work on the script first thing?” Óscar asks Javi.

“Sure, yeah. You don’t mind, Ava?”

“Of course not,” Ava replies immediately, as if that’s even something to consider. Then she turns to you. “Why don’t you stay too? You’re going to set tomorrow anyway, right?”

The invitation sounds sincere, and it is, but you know it’s because she doesn’t want her husband to drive you to the city and back this late. It’s been a long and tiring day. “No, but… sure. If you don’t mind too, of course.” 

“If you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa bed. And if Javi doesn’t mind sleeping on the floor,” Óscar says.

“Damn. Can’t I just cuddle between you two?” Javi asks Óscar in mock disappointment.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“No, you.”

You look at them back and forth in fascination. Their banter is always entertaining - be it in private, on set, on interviews (and yes, you’ve seen them all). It’s the real playful Javi and Óscar that you know, not the calm and collected mask you sometimes see them put on for other people.

“At least my back still survives going up the stairs,” Óscar says before sleepily getting up from the stool. 

“I’ll do the dishes.” You quickly say before Óscar and Ava could even reach for their empty ones.

“By the way, turn the fireplace up high, you don’t wanna wake up freezing your dick off,” Óscar says to Javi who rises up to his feet to help you.

“Why don’t I set everything up then I’ll help you dry these?” Javi says to you as you start to roll up your sleeves.

“No, go ahead, I’ll be done in no time.” He nods and you get to work, missing the brief look on Ava’s face as she looks between the two of you before you all say your goodnights.

✧

You find Javi back in the living room, still setting up the massive sofa bed in front of the roaring fireplace. It basks the surrounding in a warm glow, making the scene unintentionally romantic. You look down to a pathetic stack of pillows on the floor, not even on the reading nook by the window.

“We could just share, you know. It’s big enough.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Not here. I don’t know if I could… if I could keep my hands to myself. After what you said.”

“Me? What about what you said?” You take a sip of your drink, a glass of hot tea with lemon slices you just made as you settle into the corner of the makeshift bed. “Come on. I can’t let you fuck up your back. And not when you have an early start tomorrow. Just put a pillow between us.”

Javi contemplates for a moment before giving in. He picks up his pillows off the floor and slips under the blankets next to you.

“I wish we were back at yours.”

“Uh huh.“

You put your glass on the coffee table and crawl closer to him, your nose touching his, fingers tugging on the hem of his shirt. “So I could sleep on you.”

Javi wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes, as he lets out a sigh. “Behave, baby. Please.”

“If you say so,” you say playfully. You move back to your side of the bed and take your jeans off. Your sweater follows to reveal a thin tank top underneath. You look at his stunned face and make a show of covering yourself up with the blanket to your neck. You turn so that your back is facing him and you look over your shoulder to say, “Goodnight.” 

What you don’t know is that it takes Javi ten minutes to readjust his composure (and himself) while looking at your sleeping form. That it takes every bit of his willpower to not throw the pillows separating you from him to the floor to drape his body over yours, bury his face in your neck, slip his hand under your top and your panties... Eventually he closes his eyes and reminds himself that Óscar would happily replace the fireplace logs with him if you get caught. He wishes the two of you were back at his house, too.

✧✧✧

Taglist: @just-here-for-the-moment @dontshouthisnamelikehesathing @beaucannon @sherala007 @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @wardenparker @queridopascal @saintcooper @lovesbiggerthanpride @druigswh0ree @peaches-roses-sins @thereisaplaceintheheart @spideysimpossiblegirl

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

[duuhrayliegh]

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”