#but hey if nothing else this film LOOKS fantastic

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

[sunshine-theseus]

Fantastic Mr Fox | Aggie Beever-Jones x reader

Word Count: 2.1k Summary: she's a cute girl and has impeccable movie taste Warnings: injuries, nothing else really. guys i love fantastic mr fox and wes anderson films, i have since i was like 4, so i love this fic. Request for - @realsociadadferminofan

Finally joining a team after being in their academy was something so unnecessarily terrifying. Joining a team after being in their rival’s academy, was possibly 10x worse.

Joining Chelsea from the Arsenal W.F.C. Academy was somewhat of an ultimate act of treason. I got DMs from Arsenal fans insulting me and calling me a traitor, ‘you’re not good enough anyway’. DMs from Chelsea fans were predominantly kinder, but I did receive a few ‘you don’t deserve to be here’ messages.

I had been sent on loan to Chelsea last season, straight out of the academy, which had been more accepted because it was seen as something I didn’t have a choice in. Now that I had officially signed with the Blues? Life was harder than it should be. I’m not particularly close with anyone yet, not thinking I was going to be staying around long enough for them to matter, and I’m having to compete to even play because of the diverse skills and experience of our players.

I met Aggie on the first day of training. I wasn’t expecting the number of new players that had joined me in signing over the summer or after the World Cup, and it was severely intimidating.

The person I could claim to be the closest to, was Niamh, which in turn meant I was some-what friends with Jessie, but the roommates had yet to arrive by the time I walked into the locker room, searching for my locker and number which had now been changed due to the apparent must for Mia Fishel to be 2 if she signed. I think I cried about it the day I found out. I had been number 2 since I was 4, clumsily kicking a ball around on horrid grass under gloomy skies, and I was forced to just give it away.

“You’re not number 2?” an unknown voice perks up beside me as I plonk down at my new cubby, the number ‘32’ looming over my head.

I turn to my left, and see a rather well put together blond, lacing up her boots. A new face, but seemingly kind. I tilt my head to the side as she looks up, having not answered the question.

“Sorry, I’ve followed you for a while. You’re always 2, aren’t you? You were last season.”

“Oh… I had to um, give it up. Mia made it a requirement to be number 2 if she signed. Didn’t even give me an option.”

“That’s pretty unfair, it’s special to you. I’m Agnes by the way. Everyone calls me Aggie.” She reaches out her hand for me to shake, which I gently do.

“Like from Fantastic Mr Fox! I’m Y/N.” I smile softly at her as I lace up my own boots.

“You know Fantastic Mr Fox?”

“It’s the best movie ever!”

“Right?!” she then pauses.

“Hey, so I don’t really know anyone here… could I stick with you?” Aggie rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet as she asks the question.

“For sure! I’m not super close with anyone yet, well I’m sort of close with Niamh and Jessie, but I’d love to stick together.” I hop up from my seat and begin to walk along side Aggie as we approach the field, the meeting room seemingly deserted to instead focus on introduction games that tie to our warmup.

~~~~~

It takes a month for me to realise I have a crush on Aggie. Neither of us having anything to do during the October/November international break except train while ¾ of the squad were out, meant a lot of time pretty much one on one. I tell Niamh straight away, the girl having become somewhat of a big sister to me, and she laughs and tells me most of the team already figured.

“Emma loves pairing you up to watch you stumble and blush.”

“What the fuck?!” the call doesn’t last much longer, as Aggie comes to collect me for our gym session, in which I am a very poor spotter for the girl as I gawk and blush as she rolls up her sleeves and lifts the weights.

~~~~~

Now a month after that, I’m sitting out altogether due to spraining my calcaneal tendon in the Champions League game against Madrid.

“This fucking suucks. Fuck Athenea. We were going to play our first ever game at Stamford Bridge together” Aggie pouts, leaning of the fence as I hobble into the seats behind the subs bench, plopping down next to Millie and Guro.

“I know. You have to score for me pretty please. And do a knee slide and give a heart when you get it.” I gingerly smile at her, and she dramatically rolls her eyes.

“Your wish is my command princess.” She jokingly gives a bow.

My mouth gaps open and closed and I feel my face burn as it’s overcome by a deep shade of red. Aggie chuckles and says goodbye before she heads back to the locker room, getting ready to start the game.

“You are down so fucking bad.” Millie teases and Guro hums in agreement.

“Am not!”

“She called you princess and you malfunctioned. It’s like your brain shuts down. You should ask her out.”

“What?! No way! She does not like me back.” The captain and the Norwegian stare at me, blinking once as their mouths drop open, scarily in sync.

“Man, if you can’t see how much she likes you, there is no hope.” Guro chuckles and turns back to the game that’s about to start.

Aggie scores in the 23rd minute. A pass from LJ sets her up and she easily puts the ball in the net. And as promised, she smoothly slides on her knees, making a heart with her hands as she glides along. She moves to take her place as they set up to start again but stops briefly and points to me with a toothy grin. It’s a small gesture to show who the goal was for, and I make a little heart in return.

“Okay! I’m fucked! Millie what do I do?” I frantically turn to the girls next to me as the whistle blows, the game continuing.

“You have to sweet talk her and like offer her your jacket or something. Honestly, she already likes you so don’t change your personality. That’s important. You got that? No changing yourself.” Millie pokes my chest.

“Aye aye captain.” I solute her before Guro adds on.

“And when you ask her out on a date, make sure it’s something you’ll both actually enjoy. Like you both love that weird fox movie, so watch that together or something.”

“Fantastic Mr Fox is much more than ‘that weird fox movie’. It’s the pinnacle of film. Wes Anderson is a fucking genius.” Guro raises her hand in fake surrender.

“Sorry.”

“But you’re right, that is a great idea. W- when do I ask her?”

“After the game.” The two older women simultaneously stress that it’s imperative I do it soon.

We win 5-1, and I rush as quickly as one can with crutches, onto the pitch to congratulate the team. I hug Niamh and LJ, talk to Emma, meet pretty much everyone, before I get to Aggie. She stands off to the side, talking to Sam and Guro, the latter spotting me and pulling Sam away to talk to god knows where.

Aggie is conveniently missing a jacket, so as I approach her, I shed my own and hold it out to her.

“You’re going to freeze.” She refuses, but I push it toward her again.

“Aggie, you’re shivering, take the coat.” Her fingers graze gently against mine and my stomach swells, my breath hitches.

“Thanks.”

“Hey… would you, maybe, you can say no, like to, I don’t know-”

“Spit it out.” She nudges me and giggles.

“Do you want to go on a date?” I rush out, avoiding looking her in the eyes, fearful of her rejection.

It’s silent. Well Aggie is silent.

“Forget i-”

“Yes. I really would like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

~~~~~

“Now I've already had too much to drink, and I'm feeling sentimental, but I'm going to say something anyway, which nobody wants to admit, but I think is probably true: we beat 'em.” I glance at Aggie out of the corner of my eye, and I catch her wiping away a tear.

“Are you crying?”

“Nuh uh.”

“I cry 90% of the time during this speech it’s ok.” My hand inches toward Aggie’s that rests between us.

“It’s not even inherently sad Y/n. I’m just a baby.” She pouts at me as a single tear rolls down her cheek.

I take her hand, slotting my fingers between her’s. I wait for her to retract but she squeezes my hand, running her thumb against the back of it. I then turn my head, my eyes meeting her’s. The hazy blue irises bore into my own, drawing me closer. My other hand lifts to hold her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Aggie nods once and I lean in, our lips locking in a gentle kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” her warm breath hits my lips, our foreheads pressed together. I respond by kissing her again.

~~~~~

We walk into training together. Not an unusual sight. The only difference is the short kiss we share before I turn on my crutches to head to the physio to have a check-up on my ankle. I’m stopped as I reach the locker-room doorway.

“No fucking way! You did it!” Millie comes barrelling toward me, wrapping an arm loosely around my neck in a headlock and ruffling my hair with the other.

I hear Aggie laugh and I jokingly glare back at her.

“Yes I did. Thanks to you. And Guro giving me the date idea by dissing Fantastic Mr Fox.”

“Guro what?!” Aggie exclaims. I smile and bid her goodbye.

~~~~~

“YOU’RE BACK!” I stumble as I catch Aggie on my back, the girls around us smiling and giggling as Emma sends a playful glare.

“Miss me? I was only gone a week.” Emma quickly separates us into pairs for a training exercise.

“More like forever. Why does your extended family live in Glasgow?” She takes a hold of my hand as we wait to be given a ball.

“My abuelita loves you if that makes you feel any better. And she’s never met you. It took her months to warm up to my sister’s husband.”

“Mmm, that does make me feel better, but a kiss would definitely help.” She perks her lips and I lean on my tippy toes to press my lips to her’s.

“Get a room!” Niamh calls out from across the field and I blush, hiding my face in Aggie’s neck as she wraps an arm around me. Everyone laughs before Emma sternly tells us to focus.

~~~~~

The time is slowly running out, we’re tied 1-1 and I get subbed on for Sam, joining Aggie on the front line. The 20 or so seconds tick down on the big screen as I run down the pitch, chasing Aggie, calling for the ball. She takes a shot on the goal but I notice the ball veering off course and rush forward. I jump, head making contact with the ball and body making contact with the goalkeeper before I fall to the ground.

I hear the crowd cheer but don’t move. My head aches but pain radiates across my shoulder and down my back. The whistle doesn’t blow even as I cry out, only once the final seconds pass. I feel hands pat my head, assuming I’m just exhausted. I eventually hear Aggie’s distinct voice break through the rest of the noise.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP THE GAME? SHE DIDN’T GET UP SO YOU STOP THE GAME!” there are waves of outraged voices that echo around me, but I can’t do anything but cry and whisper Aggie’s name.

I begin to assess myself as I wait for someone, anyone, to come help. I can feel everything, but it hurts, I can move my fingers and my toes. My breathing is a little rough and my vision is blurred by my tears. I feel someone kneel beside me.

“Hey, hey I’m here are you ok?” I expect to hear my girlfriend’s voice but it’s Ann-Katrin.

“It all hurts. W- where’s Aggie.” I groan out as she strokes my hair out of my face.

“She’s coming. She was having a word with the ref. Asshole tried to card her. The medics and Emma are coming too.”

It takes forever to be assessed, and then I’m carried out on a backboard, Aggie holding my hand as we walk through the halls.

“Are you ok? Are you sure? Do you need anything?” She spits out question after question and I smile up at her.

“I’m okay, I’ve got you.”

“You really are a quote-unquote fantastic fox.” She grins at me and leans down to kiss my forehead.

“I want to quote Fantastic Mr Fox with you all the time.”

“You will. Once you fucking stop getting hurt.”

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 40K - 60K Words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

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The Two Worlds of Marinette by Liquifiedstars:

Marinette discovers a watch in her attic that allows her to travel back in time. Soon she is torn between her life with her rising star fiancé, Luka, and a romance with the enigmatic Adrien Agreste, who knows nothing of the fate that awaits him.

This fic is an AU based on the film The Two Worlds of Jennie Logan, which I’m afraid I’ve never seen. Still, I quite enjoyed this fic, with Marinette spending more and more time in the past, and trying to figure out the truth behind Adrien’s eventual death, and how to prevent it.

Fair warning to Lukanette fans though, Marinette does cheat on Luka during the fic, it comes with the AU. He takes it pretty well though.

---

Stone Streak by kingxuppu

Ladybug and Violet Tigress had been fighting the mysterious Duskwing for eight years now. Through the years, the two have grown stronger together and even gotten married, they are waiting until they finally beat Duskwing to start a family. At least, that was the plan. When Juleka gets confronted with the realization that her friends are starting families of their own, she realizes just how badly she wants to be a mother.

Due to unfortunate circumstances, Juleka and Marinette get the chance to adopt Juleka's young modeling friend Adrien.

Maybe they aren't quite a traditional family, but with magic, rockstars, and fame, normal was never an option.

Via Discovery: There are actually two terms of venery for tigers, depending on the makeup of the group. The first is a streak of tigers and this refers to a female tiger and her cubs.

Now this is a rare pairing, there’s not a lot of Julenette fics! Adrien and Rose actually have some ship tease going on, the whole kid group in canon got broken up into two groups here, one that remained around canon age (so like 13) which notably consists of Chloe, Rose, and Adrien, and then I think everyone else are adults in their mid-twenties. It’s weird seeing Adrien as Marinette’s and Juleka’s son, but hey it works! I love how Juleka really showed Adrien the ropes on modeling and became a Mama tiger for him, the fic’s mostly just very sweet, though with a surprisingly dark final act. 

---

The Parable of the Caller by @nemaliwrites

A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest.

But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.

I absolutely adore this fic, it’s a fantastic character study for Adrien! Basically in this universe, Ladybug and Chat Noir talked about who should be Guardian, with Chat eventually convincing her that he should be the one to take it on, primarily due to the whole “the Guardian gets amnesia about Miraculous-related matters” situation, and wanting to protect Ladybug from that. Then he finds out Gabriel is Hawk Moth, they take him down, and he relinquishes the Miracle Box and his guardianship to Su Han - all without having a Reveal with Ladybug, since well, he’s not in the greatest shape mentally at the time.

It’s a real treat to see Adrien’s thoughts and feelings about one of the Heroes of Paris leaving him all these voicemails, treating him like this close friend for reasons he doesn’t understand, and just seeing Chat Noir as this outside person. He’s got a very different viewpoint on Chat when looking from the outside than he would from the inside, with being able to see his heroic and good qualities far more easily when he doesn’t know that he is Chat.

Also Marinette’s struggling in the background of the fic with the loss of her partner and guilt over sending Adrien’s father to prison. It gets touched on at various points, and you can tell that she’s having her own story off to the side that we’re just not entirely privy to, what with this tale being told entirely from Adrien’s perspective.

---

Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth.

But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known?

Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone?

Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

Great Adrienette enemies au here! I thought Mystic did a great job explaining how Adrien could be under the impression that he and Marinette were at least sort-of friends, while Marinette hates his guts. Adrien’s not great at understanding social nuances. 

Most of the relationship-building here is actually between Adrien and Marinette in the real world, with Marinette gradually learning that she had the wrong idea about Adrien. Turns out, all their friends really want them to get alng (and maybe smooch XD).

Oh yeah, while the summary doesn’t mention this, this fic IS still set in the canon universe, so they’re juggling identities as Ladybug and Chat Noir on top of everything else. Monarch’s been pretty quiet though.

---

Every Heartbeat by @epcot97

Reeling from a brutally difficult day, Marinette finds her life becomes amazingly complicated after impulsively inviting Chat Noir to spend the evening with her. But when the suave feline begins to weave his way into her heart, she realizes rather quickly just how conflicted her feelings for her partner truly are. (part of MariChat May 2021)

Okay so I’m cheating on this one just a little. This story was originally uploaded in 2021, but was taken down and then reuploaded in 2023. I didn’t read it the first time around, and I really enjoyed it and this is my list, so screw it, I’m including it.

Really lovely Marichat fic here! Gabriel fires Marinette from her designer job for unfair reasons, so Chat goes to comfort her and help her set up her own fashion business, becoming closer and closer as they do so. 

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Midwinter Serendipity by Cakedecorator

Marinette is a normal woman living in her parents' bakery with her parents, and they have a monthly tradition: they take their bakery leftovers and any handmade clothes that Marinette has made and bring them to the local homeless shelter.

To paraphrase a common idiom, the best laid plans of people often go awry. In this case, they have to stop in the middle of everything when they find a young man lying out cold while IN the cold.

After they bring him to the hospital and he wakes up, they realize that he has a huge problem: he can't remember anything other than his first name! What will the family do?!

This is just a really comfy fic for most of it, though with some angst thrown in too. Adrien adores getting to spend time with the Dupain-Chengs, and honestly doesn’t WANT to remember his past, since the glimpses and memories and emotions he has recovered have indicated to him that they aren’t great, and he’s happy with his current situation. 

Unfortunately, just because he doesn’t want to forget his past, doesn’t mean his past will just forget about him.

---

The second Multimouse gets the Chat by charliepoet13

After a harshly fought battle Ladybug and Chat Noir have claimed the Mouse Miraculous. Obviously Marinette needs to test the strange new ring, and obviously the best way to do that is patrols with Chat. No, she will not be taking comments.

This is as adorable a fic as it sounds like! Marinette refuses to look into WHY, exactly, she really likes running around with Chat as Multimouse, even when she really needs a break. 

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Ladybugged Series by RillRull

Summary of the first fic in the series, Ladybugged:

In which Ladybug accidentally gets turned into a ladybug, and it’s up to Chat Noir to fix it.

It turns out potion making is really hard when your best friend is a bug and you’re just some guy in a cat suit.

If you like “the heroes turn into animals” stories, this series should be right up your alley! The first one features Ladybug accidentally turning herself into a ladybug and Chat trying to figure out how to turn her back, the second fic follows up on some plot threads from the first fic, and then the final fic in the series, Catified, has Chat intentionally turn himself into a cat for the weekend (after making sure that everyone thinks that he’s at Nino’s place and that Nino will cover for him) because he thinks it’ll be fun, and him staying over with Marinette! I’m a sucker for these kinds of stories so they were a real treat to read XD.

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I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier.

If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

Nice aged-up Ladynoir fic here! Marinette’s struggling with losing friends and lovers because of her flakiness due to her superhero activities, until at last she breaks down. Thankfully, Chat Noir’s there at least - and it soon turns out he’s got problems of his own that he’s been hiding.

There’s some fluff and angst, it’s mostly just the two of them navigating life, dealing with their feelings and talking things out.

---

Found by @trishacollins

Chat Noir and Ladybug need to tie up some loose ends. Unfortunately, one of those ends is Felix.

This is a fantastic fic! It’s part of a wider series wherein Adrien and Felix were friends with Nooroo and Duusu from a younger age, but Adrien’s memory was wiped of it by his parents, but this is the first fic you really need to read. Basically, after the events of Emotion, Chat confronts Felix about what he did, and Felix confesses to being a Sentibeing, and Duusu reveals to Chat that he is one as well, leading to Felix cooperating with the heroes. 

Of all the fics I’ve read that tackle the subject, this one does the best job of giving Felix a redemption arc for his actions in the season 4 finale, focusing not only on how he hurt the heroes, but the kwamis. I loved that he truly understood how much he fucked up with the situation he put the kwamis in, how much suffering he put them through, and that the kwamis were allowed to be angry at him for awhile afterwards, to be suspicious and untrusting towards him at first (and that Marinette was allowed to do the same). Felix screwed up and hurt people, and he had to really show that he understood what he did was wrong, why it was wrong, and try to help the people he hurt.

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In Direct Opposition by @generalluxun

Alya Cesaire is a brand new student to Francis Dupont, to Paris even. The first student she meets is one Chloé Bourgeois, and Alya is determined to make a friend. Things advance Chaotically. Her new 'friend' is definitely a handful, and suddenly Paris has a supervillain and two brand new superheroes! Alya finds herself balancing a lot of things, trying to live up to her ideals and those of her icons.

And then reality seems to contradict itself.

As time progresses it seems to happen more often. Becoming a hero, battling villains, staying alive, working through friendships. Something is lurking, tweaking events at times, changing them, and no one seems aware. Alya will need all her wits to get to the bottom of this. Her investigative mind can only get her so far though, and then she needs to rely on her friends. This is not a foe you can beat head on.

I betaed this entire fic, it’s really good! I adore the focus on Alya’s philosophy here, her determination to be a hero, to help people and defeat evil - and that defeating evil means trying to reform the people doing bad things when possible, to try to save EVERYONE, even the “villain”. I thought it was really clever the ways Alya would redirect Chloe and subtly encourage her to be a better person, while also trying to get the people around her to give her a second chance and keep an open mind. 

Also Alya and Chloe are an adorable sapphic couple XD.

---

Chemistry With Him by @bbutterflies

It kind of sucked Nino was taking chemistry, but classes had filled up fast and he needed to take something and his advisor had said the credits would, somehow, count towards his major. It really sucked he was taking it first thing on a Monday morning (and Wednesdays, and Fridays, unfortunately). But he could get through it. He knew he could.

So no more boys. No distractions. He could do this all on his own.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Nino looked up to find the source of the voice. A blond, green-eyed, absolutely beautiful someone.

Okay. Maybe one distraction.

Ah, adorable Adrino. This is a universe where Adrien never went to public school, so while Chat Noir, Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge all know each other (and Marinette, Alya, and Nino all know each other’s identities) they’re unaware that they are all already friends with Adrien. I loved seeing Chat and Carapace excitedly tell each other about their awesome crush/boyfriend, not knowing they were talking about each other XD.

[s10127470]

Fant4stic: A Fantastic Failure (Part 2)

Warning: LowTierGod moments incoming

Hey guys!

I'm back with the awaited second (and final part) of my Fant4stic review!

As I'm sure most you of read the first part noticed, there was one other important character that I didn't get to (largely due to men

And that's none other than the villain of the film himself, Victor.

GOOD LORD, THIS CHARACTER……

But before we talk about him, let's talk about his original counterpart.

Victor is cold, arrogant, petty, relatively calm but can be little theatrical at times, and most importantly of all, has an ego the size of Ego!

Like, he literally wants to the conquer the world just to show that he would be better at running it than everyone else.

The thought is nice and all but….ego much?

He's also incredibly vain and a massive perfectionist.

The reason he wears his trademark mask is because he sees himself as hideous because of a scar he obtained during his university days via an miscalculation, despite the fact that the scar itself isn't even all that bad and Victor himself is actually a pretty handsome man.

Apart from his personality, Victor is also one of the biggest villains in the Marvel Universe.

In addition to his willpower and diplomatic immunity, he is insanely intelligent.

He's literally tied with Reed as being the most intelligent person in the Marvel Universe, which he hates (more on that a little later).

Victor's famous armor also makes him even more of a threat, granting him strength and durability that allows him tank and trade blows with Ben (along with other heavy hitters of the Marvel Universe like Spider-Man and even The Hulk), the ability to project energy in all kinds of ways (from concussive blasts to force fields), and all kinds of special gadgets.

This is made even worse with the fact that he's a skilled combatant, being skilled in the ways of the Tibetan monks and is even a master swordsman.

But the real kicker to his presence as a major threat is that he's a master of the mystic arts, rivaling even the likes of Doctor Strange as being one of the most powerful magic users in the Marvel Universe.

Another major and important aspect of his character is his rivalry with Reed.

Victor hates Reed with a passion, due to them being rivals during their university days.

This was only made even worse due to the accident that scarred Victor's face, which was the result of a miscalculation on his part, which Reed pointed out but Victor ignored.

Victor feels that Reed is always trying to outdo him, and will go drastic, borderline psychopathic lengths to 1-up him.

If I remember correctly, he was once willing to allow the destruction of all reality just to show up Reed.

It's that bad.

Now let's look at Fant4astic Victor.

This version has practically nothing in common with the OG Victor, apart from being arrogant, cold and a little petty.

This Victor is an anti-social, basement-dwelling, nihilistic douchebag with a hard-on for Sue.

I'm not joking. They basically turned Doctor Doom, one of the greatest villains in all comic book and even fictional history, into a Discord moderator!

Or a Redditor. They're kinda interchangeable.

But apart from those traits I just mentioned, he doesn't have any......ANYTHING in common with his original counterpart (or most other iterations of the character in general)!

He doesn't really have an ego, despite his anti-social personality.

He never shown be all that theatrical, because that would actually require showing actual emotion!

Which yeah, I'm going off-tangent here, but let's talk about the acting real quick.

Is acting in this film is genuinely awful, despite the fact that I know DAMN well these people are actually good actors.

Every person in this film talks in such a dry and bland tone.

There's no distinction in how any of them talk!

And my GOD! Could these people look anymore miserable?

It's so apparent that nobody was enjoying acting for this film.

Probably because their characters had nothing that made original counterparts so great.

Top that off with how Trank famously treated literally everyone on set like absolute SHIT.

You can't blame anyone in this film for looking or acting the way they did.

They do not want to be here!

The only time any of these guys show any other emotion besides boredom or silent misery is during the body horror scenes.

Where everyone is screaming and in pain.....

Speaking of which, that was something Trank was really pushing for in this film.

And while the concept doesn't sound too bad on paper, like most of the other stuff in this movie, it ended up coming off as unnecessarily tryhard and edgy.

But back on topic about Victor.

He's not shown to be all that vain.

Nor does he come off as a massive perfectionist.

Because showing actual care, dedication and passion for your work was just clearly too much for this film's direction.

Also, what it is with live-action adaptations forgetting that Victor is literally the ruler of an ENTIRE FUCKING NATION?!

That's a pretty big deal, if you ask me!

But then again, I don't think anyone would want the ruler of a nation to look like.....this:

He's not skilled in magic because that's certainly not "gRoUnDeD aNd ReAlIsTiC".

And there's NO WAY in hell that this version actually knows how fight anyone.

The only powers this Doom has are vaguely telekinetic ones, which he obtains after the incident.

That's literally it.

We don't known if his new skin makes him all that durability.

Nor even that physically strong.

And he doesn't have any sort of special gadgets on him because that would actually be interesting to see.

Which this film can't be bothered to do.

And side-note: Victor's metal look just looks so fucking dumb. In the words of the SmegHead (of Cinematic Excrement fame), he looks like C-P3O had sex with a glowstick....inside a microwave oven.

And although all of this is incredibly bad, perhaps the worst thing about this version of Victor is rivalry with Reed.....or lack thereof.

Yeah!

Despite being one of the most important aspect of Victor, he has no rivalry (or any of sort of relationship) with Reed all at.

Hell, they only interact with each other a handful of times throughout the film.

And this actually perfectly segways into one of the film's greatest flaws: the lack of chemistry between any of the characters.

It's actually hilarious how this film was aiming to be "grounded and realistic as possible", but nobody in this film talks like an actual fucking human being!

They speak like walking cliches (which many of them are) and even A.I.

But even that's an insult to A.I. because I've heard A.I. voices with much more emotion than any of the performances in this film!

Despite being childhood best friends, Reed and Ben never really come off as friends whatsoever.

They feel more like acquaintances who just so happen to have known each other for many years.

It's even worse with Sue and Johnny.

You remember how I mentioned making Sue and Johnny adopted siblings rather than biological ones like in every other iteration was quite debatable?

Well, this is why.

This two don't feel like siblings whatsoever.

And even if they were biologically related, it still wouldn't make much of a difference.

Even worse is Reed and Sue, who have little to no scene between each other and have the chemistry of water and oil.

And remember. In the comics and most other iterations, these two are married and have children!

But worst of all is the "chemistry" between the Four.

Fun fact: The entirety of the Four don't share the screen together until the film's climax!

This film undoubtedly misses the main core of the Fantastic Four.

They're suppose to be a family! Even if they're not all related to each other! And no matter what, they would always be by each other's side!

Even the Story films, as flawed as they are, understood that point.

But here, the Four just feel like four random schmucks who barely care about each other.

And I'm guessing because it wasn't "dark, grounded and realistic" enough.

Which yeah, let's talk about that real quick.

The movie's depiction of a dark and gritty style feels like it was written by an angsty teenager who thinks 13 Reasons Why and Rick and Morty are deep, thought-provoking masterpieces and that Devil May Cry would've been better off with this Dante.

There's just something about the style that just screams pretentious.

Plus, it seems that in terms of realism, they're going off the Mark Millar philosophy of such.

As where life is just a never-ending stream of failure, disappointment, and misery.

And literally every human being is some variation of being a miserable asshole.

Which like.....can we kindly let that mindset fucking die already?

Conclusion:

And it says in the title of this post, Fant4stic was a FANTASTIC FAILURE!

It only grossed $167.9 million worldwide against a production budget of $120 million, essentially making the film a bonafide box office bomb.

And it wasn’t any better with the reception.

Pretty much everyone HATED this film. Critics hated it. Audiences hated it. And you better believe that the FF fans hated it as well.

But the biggest haters of the film, funnily enough, was actually Marvel themselves.

They've understandably and rightfully disowned this film.

They never mention it's existence.

Which is saying something when you remember that they've actually mentioned the existence of this in the past....

The universe of the film itself doesn't even have an official convoluted number like literally every other piece of official Marvel nedia.

Hell, Marvel's hatred for this film is so great that in issue 12 of Jason Aaron's run of The Punisher, there was actually a scene where the actors of the movie literally get violently killed in an fucking explosion!

I've heard of spite, but takes it to a whole new level!

And although Jason claimed that they did survive the explosion. Let's be real, he definitely intended for these guys to get blown to kingdom come.

And you know this film was absolute garbage when even Stan Lee himself didn't cameo.

Yeah! Fant4astic is one of the VERY few films based on a Marvel property pre-passing that didn't feature a cameo from him.

And this isn't gonna be the last time you'll be hearing about Stan in this post.

And in all honesty, you can't blame anyone for the reaction this movie got.

This is movie is just genuinely really terrible.

Apart from the effects (which are decent enough) and the weirdly funny choice of casting Dan Castellaneta (the voice of Homer Simpson) as Reed's teacher, there is not ONE ounce of redeeming worth about this film.

The story is paper thin and ungodly boring.

The acting is incredibly half-assed.

The tone and style is just plain sucks.

And the characters are about as interesting as cardboard on wheat beard.

As an adaptation of the Fantastic Four, this film is an absolute insult and disgrace to the team and their legacy.

And even you look at the project as its own thing (which like, why would you do that for an adaptation of all things?), it's still awful.

Fant4stic is genuinely one of the worst films I've ever had the displeasure of watching.

And among the multitude of superhero films, I wholeheartedly say that it's the worst one of all time (along with being one of the worst overall films in history).

Yes. Worse than Howard the Duck. Worse than Catwoman. Worse than Batman & Robin. And even worse than Morbius and Madame. FUCKING. Web.

At very least, those have a "so-bad, it's-good" kinda feel to them.

Where you can't help but laugh and be charmed at how awful they are.

But Fant4stic? It has nothing. It is nothing.

And the thing that really pisses me off about this film (apart from everything listed above) is just how blatantly....shallow it is.

Fant4stic is one of the most lifeless, soulless and passionless pieces of media I've ever seen in my entire life.

And as an artist, this genuinely makes me upset.

And when you look at the history of the film, it really was.

It was created by a studio who only wanted to make it as an excuse to latch onto rights that they would've needed to sell at some point.

And a director, who as we would find out from various members of the crew, didn't care about the property he was working with and essentially wanted to make his own new movie.

Speaking of which, let's talk about the after effects this film had on the people involved.

20th Century Fox was definitely affected by the film's failure the least.

However, they never made any more FF films after this one.

Especially since they would be officially bought out by you-know-who.

Plus, plans for sequels (yes, they actually believed this piece of shit would actually be successful enough to warrant continuations) were INSTANTLY scrapped.

One of which included a crossover with the X-Men film franchise.

Which continuity of it, your guess is as good as mine's.

Next we have the main stars.

With the exception of Michael B. Jordan, this film seriously wrecked many of their careers, due to how young (though I use that term somewhat loosely) and up-and-coming they were.

It would take them a good while before they really reached stardom.

But the one who was affected by the film's failure the most was none other than Josh Trank himself.

If you look at his filmography, who can see that ever since this film, this hasn't done much.

Ever since Fant4astic, He directed, wrote and edited the 2020 film Capone, which I had only found out the existence of while I was doing research for this post.

From what I've gathered, the film was released to streaming (for obvious reasons) and film received mixed reviews.

And apart from minor acting credits in 2021, he's barely done anything in the last decade.

And hasn't done anything in the last three years.

I think it's safe to say that Trank is pretty much a washed-up has-been now.

And honestly, rightfully so.

If you read the first part of this, you'd remember the list I made about how much Trank made the production of Fant4astic an absolute FUCKING nightmare.

Yeah, I know everyone's has already said it, but I'm gonna say it as well.

Trank's behavior was ABSOLUTELY unacceptable.

Just because the studio is making your life a living hell, doesn't mean you have the right to threat everyone around you as your verbal and physical punching bags!

And it's safe to say that the reason Trank has barely done any work since this film is because no major studio wants to work with him.

And remember, all the stuff about Trank's behavior was leaked even before the film was released.

And I'm sure had to be very shocking, given how new he was to the film industry.

And in all honesty, Trank got what he deserved.

Over the last couple of years, Hollywood has become infamous for stories of directors and producers abusing their cast and crew in all types of ways.

Only to get away with it because of their power.

But thankfully, there are stories of these monsters getting what they deserve.

And I'm glad that this is one of those stories.

And just to show how much of a scumbag Trank truly is, let's go back to Stan Lee.

According to Trank, he claimed that Stan himself actually approved of his dark take on the Fantastic Four.

However, Stan had been quite open about how much he hates this film.

So much so that once again, he refused to cameo in it!

With all that considered, it really makes it seem like that Trank essentially lied through his teeth in order to justify his take on the Fantastic Four, which I think even before the teaser trailer, was already getting major criticism.

And for the last part of this discussion: you remember how I mentioned that Trank made an infamous tweet on Twitter just the day before the film's release, only to get deleted the next day?

Well, this is what he said.

"A year ago I had a fantastic version of this. And it would've recieved great reviews. You’ll probably never see it. That’s reality though."

Trank ended up deleting the tweet as he felt that it came off as an insult to literally everyone else who worked on the film.

And it was.

And apart from that, the tweet also has this sense of ego to it.

From what I've gathered, the final product is pretty close to what Trank envisioned for the film, albeit somewhat mangled thanks to Fox's constant meddling.

And even if Trank didn't have to deal with the meddling, I highly doubt that Fant4stic would've still be any good.

It's like how The Snyder Cut of Justice League is technically better than the theatrical cut of the film, but it's still not a good film.

Snyder fans after reading this:

But overtime, we would actually get to see the original draft of this film.

And believe or not.....

It was actually good.

Like, REALLY good.

But the thing is....this wasn't from Trank.

It was actually from Jeremy Slater, one of the writers on the film.

This draft was FAR more faithful adaptation of the Fantastic Four.

In general, the Fantastic Four would have used their powers in more varied ways and would utilize a greater degree of teamwork.

Franklin Storm was not present in the script.

Ben and Reed teleported objects into another dimension, which would have later been found in the Negative Zone.

Ben's status as the team's muscle was also established in more detail - essentially having the character serve as Reed's bodyguard - as a way to justify his involvement in the expedition.

Victor would have secretly stolen Reed's research to give to Latverian spies.

Sue and Johnny were originally both going to stay behind and use the Baxter Building's technology to help Reed, Ben, and Victor explore the Negative Zone. The expedition would have involved a portal instead of a teleporter.

When the characters teleported into the Negative Zone, they would have found themselves inside a ruined otherworldly city with alien corpses strewn about. They would have found Galactus there (appearing as he does in the comics), who would have seemingly killed Victor with Dark Matter. Galactus would have fired the Dark Matter into the portal that Ben and Reed were using just as they escaped, affecting the two of them alongside Johnny and Sue. A Body Horror sequence similar to the one in the final film (though most likely not nearly as edgy and tryhard) would have played out, with a noted addition of there being a scene where Sue's skin disappeared and her muscles were visible.

A time skip of four years would have been implemented. While Ben still would have been used as a military weapon and Reed would still have been a fugitive, Johnny was going to have been a television star and Sue would have used her powers to help people suffering from cancer (and search for a cure for Ben's condition). During his time in hiding, Reed would have built H.E.R.B.I.E. as his own robot companion, alongside the Fantasti-Car. Ben also would have come to terms with his status as a monstrous-looking being.

Latveria's government would have completed their own version of the portal using the knowledge that Victor stole. Victor would have come out of the portal as Doctor Doom, killing the military and government leaders singlehandedly and quickly conquering Latveria.

Doctor Doom would then send shock troopers armed with futuristic weapons after Reed, who would escape with H.E.R.B.I.E. and the Fantasti-Car to warn his friends in New York.

Harvey Elder (who was planned to be in the movie) created artificial life (The Moloids) at the Baxter Building that Sue would have feared would be weaponized. Her fears are proven correct when Doom's shock troopers arrive and activate the Dark Matter on one of the Moloids, transforming the creature into Giganto. The Moloid formula would have spilled onto Harvey Elder and he would have become The Mole Man, who would've served as the villain for a potential sequel.

The team then would have met in New York to battle Giganto together, officially making them the Fantastic Four. After defeating the monster, Mister Fantastic, Invisible Woman, Thing, and Human Torch would travel to Latveria to battle Doctor Doom and his army of shock troopers.

Doctor Doom would have been revealed to be a composite character with traits of The Silver Surfer, while Galactus would similarly have been a composite character with traits of Annihilus. After serving as Galactus's herald for four years, Doctor Doom decides that it would be better to destroy him and save the Earth by building the Ultimate Nullifier.

The Fantastic Four would have discovered that the Doctor Doom they face was actually a Doombot in a manner of speaking - Victor Von Doom is physically tied within the Negative Zone. The Fantastic Four ultimately defeat Doctor Doom's copy on Earth and trap Doctor Doom in the Negative Zone. The Fantastic Four warn the government of the threat of Galactus, continuing Doctor Doom's work on the Ultimate Nullifier in a way that does not threaten the rest of the world.

The Fantastic Four make the Baxter Building their base of operations and sow the seeds of the Future Foundation by bringing in child prodigies and teen geniuses from around the world to solve the world's problems.

As for why this draft wasn't used, there were two reasons....

Fox believed that this version of the film would've costed them more money than they initially had planned to used. It seems like they were trying to keep the budget of this as low as they could in order to make any sort of financial returns worth it. We all know how that went....

As I mentioned in the pervious post, it clashed with Frank's vision for the film, who 1) Had little familiarity with the Fantastic Four, and 2) wanted to make a film that, as I mentioned before, was "dArK, gRoUnDeD, aNd ReAlIsTiC."

And after reading all this, I'm sure many of you are going....

Like dude.

We were SO close to greatness.

This easily could've been the best Fantastic Four ever made and the first good one since the Roger Corman film!

This draft really felt like it was made by someone who actually understood and cared about the Fantastic Four.

But unfortunately, it was made for a studio that was kinda being cheap and were kinda rushing it for pretty scummy reasons, and worse of all, a director who couldn't fucking cooperate and wanted everything to be his way.

In the end, Fant4stic serves as a example of the worst kind of inception a film can have.

Not one from the passion of a director/creator.

Nor the curiosity and willing to experiment from a studio.

This movie was only made for one reason only: copyright hoarding.

And between this and the Roger Corman film (which I was mentioned in the last post was also made for the same reason as well), I don't know which one had the more tragic and scummy outcome.

The Roger Corman film never even got to release and resulted in the lives of literary everyone involved to be played with.

But at the very least, I think the cast and crew of that were treated well during the film's production.

Contrast that to Fant4stic, where the cast and crew of that film literally went through hell having to deal with Fox's constant meddling and Trank's constant douchebaggery.

And despite Fox having high hopes for the film, it ended up bombing hard and being reviewed bombed into oblivion.

And while people are cautiously interested in the MCU film.

With that caution becoming even greater after a recent announcement involving a particular casting choice.

I think we all agree that at least it'll NEVER stoop as low as this film.

[destinyc1020]

Are these your same posts Anon?? I can't tell lol.... 😅

Anyway, since they deal with the same topic, I'll just answer them both at the same time.

Anon #1 - While I've been a bit disappointed in this phase of Marvel films and projects, I still think that they can probably crank out some good films if they just go back to the drawing board (which it seems like they've been doing), get good writers, and stop trying to put out so much content all at once.

I'm definitely SAT for the new Spidey franchise, any further Black Panther films, and a future Fantastic 4 franchise. I think I'll also check out the "Thunderbolts" film as well since the cast is looking really good. Everything else is probably hit or miss for me.

I actually think Deadpool & Wolverine will do pretty well! People love the Deadpool franchise.

I think fans need to realize that Marvel could only go down from where they were. They were at the top for so long, that the only way to go from there was downward lol. Did fans really think that they were going to be super popular FOREVER?? Nothing ever keeps that much hype forever y'all. Not even Star Wars. There are fans of Star Wars who are upset with the newer films and streaming shows. People need to stop thinking that something can't ever fail and that it will be as popular as it was in its "hey day" or "glory days". It just doesn't work that way.

Anon # 2 - Nope Anon, I have not seen Deadpool & Wolverine, but I think the film will do well, and I think most people will enjoy it!

With regards to interest in Marvel.... I think the interest will always be there (it's a comic book film machine for goodness sakes), but I just feel like fans have been feeling like they can't really trust the Marvel content that comes out nearly as much as they could in the past. The quality has gone downhill imo.

But like I said above, I think they have a good chance at redeeming themselves and getting fans to trust them again if they just do certain things. It seems they've already recognized the error of their ways, and have picked up on the fan "Marvel Fatigue" and have gone back to the drawing board lol.

[orange-waterfalls]

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much 

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you. 

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain��t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna 

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much 

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not So Serious

Prompt: ayoooo I’m like-obsessed with your writing style omg if your requests are open I’d love to see some good good logince hurt/comfort where Roman has a crush on Logan and gets this idea that he’s not serious enough for Logan to like him at all so Roman completely changes himself only for Logan to wonder where the man he’s in love with went.

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: logince, as on the tin

Warnings: roman’s a little bit of a self-doubting and self-depricating boi but other than that none! we are happy now!

Word Count:  5340

Roman knows he’s the least important of the Light Sides. Or at the very least, the one that Thomas listens to the least.

 That’s okay.

 It’s not, not really, but that doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that most of it can be chalked up to the fact that he’s the least serious Side. He’s the dreamer, the fanatic, the one whose head is permanently in the clouds. He sings, he dances, he acts, he plays. And that’s his job! He’s Creativity, for Shakespeare’s sake, and if he’s not, well, what good is he?

 Well, he’s not much good when he is Creativity, but that’s beside the point.

 But Thomas needs him to be serious. Patton, for all his lightheartedness, knows how to be serious when the time calls for it. And behind all those jokes and smiles and corny lines that make all of them want to cringe a little, he’s talking about, arguably, the most serious thing there is. What’s right and what’s wrong. No matter how you slice it, that’s serious. And he’s Thomas’s heart! How can you not take that seriously?

 Then there’s Virgil, who Roman considers a Light Side. Virgil demands to be taken seriously. Not verbally, but come on, he’s Anxiety. Mental stuff is no joke, and they’ve had enough close calls to know that for sure. Virgil’s a snarky bastard, but he rarely says something he doesn’t actually mean. He keeps them safe when none of the others know what to do and honestly? That’s serious stuff. Virgil’s got enough on his plate.

 Then there’s Logan.

  Logan.

 Roman could go on for days about Logan. He won’t, but he could.

 Logan is Logic. Perhaps more than anything else, Thomas needs Logic. And Logan. Logan is always present, whether he’s there physically or not, and his voice is always going to be heard in the conversation sooner or later. He breaks down the biggest problems Roman’s ever seen until they’re manageable chunks, so much so that it’s ridiculous that they were ever big in the first place. He talks them through everything, slowly and surely. He makes everything look easy.

 And that’s all the more impressive because Roman knows it’s not.

 It’s not easy to do what Logan does. It’s not easy for Logan to always make himself heard. It’s not easy to carry the single brain cell in any given conversation.

 But he does and it’s wonderful.

 Logan is serious. His job is serious. That doesn’t mean he’s serious all the time, no, Roman’s seen him snap a quip faster than anything with a smirk on his face, and their bond over Crofter’s is legendary. And he knows the gleam that means Logan is immensely satisfied with whatever insult he’s come up with to shut Roman down. Even through the hurt of a new bruise forming on Thomas’s ego, he has to smile because it’s so satisfying to watch someone just be very good at something.

 He’s also incredible at calming them all down. He’s so sweet and kind and gentle in all the right ways and you will never convince Roman that Logan knows nothing about emotions. Come on, he’s the most intelligent Side, that extends to emotional intelligence too. The amount of times he’s been able to rip them out of some horrible spiral with just a simple touch or a word is too high for Roman to count. And he never asks for anything, he just does it. Because he’s good like that.

 Roman would be an utter, utter fool if he didn’t take Logan seriously. He doesn’t dare underestimate him, never again, not after that rap battle. He doesn’t try to speak over him, not once everyone’s actually paying attention and Logan’s clearly trying to say something. He listens, he tries, he takes him seriously.

 But sometimes Logan needs to not be serious! He can see when the strain gets a little too much and he needs to cut someone down to size.

 Well, here’s Roman!

 And yes, it’s worth it. It’s always worth it. Logan smiles and it’s like the sun comes out. Yes, that’s a cliché but we all know clichés are cliché for a reason. Logan smiles, the sun comes out, and Roman wants to bathe in it. Wants to sit and listen to Logan talk about anything just so he’ll keep smiling, keep talking, keep being Logan. Logan is serious, but serious isn’t always Logan.

 Isn’t always.

 Most of the time, though…

 Most of the time, it looks like Logan is thrilled to not have to stand next to Roman.

 Most of the time, it seems like every time Roman opens his mouth, Logan’s trying not to roll his eyes or is just listening out of politeness. And every time he pitches an idea, it seems like Logan’s getting just as much enjoyment out of leaving the meetings as he does when he doesn’t find anything wrong with it.

 Most of the time, that 0.5% hangs in the air between them like a moat.

 Roman doesn’t want that. Roman doesn’t want Logan to view him as a diametrically opposed foe, he doesn’t want to be Logan’s other side of the coin, he doesn’t want Logan to think he’s only worth 0.5% of a day.

 But 0.5% is all he gets if he stays Roman.

 It’s not big changes, nothing that would compromise Thomas, but they’re noticeable. At least he hopes so.

 He stops singing out loud in the common areas and instead has a headphone in when he wants to listen to something. He reads in the chair—sitting properly, not with his limbs haphazardly thrown about like he’s a newly made life form with no idea how muscles work—and keeps his comments to himself, written down in a notebook or in his head. He asks politely if Logan wants to come on a walk through the Imagination and conjures up something simple. A forest path, or a garden, or a small town road. None of the fantastical woods, magic castles, or treacherous mountains that he’s so fond of, because those are daydreams.

 He’s quieter outside of videos. Sure, he’s still as obnoxious as ever when the cameras are on, but they tend to exaggerate themselves when they’re being filmed anyway. So it won’t be too much of a surprise when he’s not like that when the cameras are off. He doesn’t speak as much—well, he doesn’t monologue as much. He speaks when spoken to, he’s as courteous as he knows how to be, and he tries to be serious. Even if his job is anything but.

 He could tell you it’s exhausting what he does for the videos and he’d rather not do it when he doesn’t have to.

 He could tell you it’s because it would be better for Thomas if they all got along well. 

 He could tell you it’s because he wants a healthier and more productive working relationship with Logan.

 He could tell you all of these things.

 Whether or not you believe him is up to you.

 …because Roman might be the actor, but he’s never been a particularly good liar. And deep down—not that deep down—we all know why he wants to be more serious, don’t we?

 Logan doesn’t like fantasy. Logan doesn’t like excessive noise. Logan doesn’t like someone who can’t be serious.

 Logan is kind and perfect and wonderful and smart and so many things.

 And above all, Logan is serious.

 Roman can work with that.

———————————————————————

“Hey, Specs! Do you have time to brainstorm?”

 “It will have to be quick, Roman, I’ve not much time to spare.”

 “Oh. That’s alright, then, we can do it later.”

 “Are you certain?”

 “Of course! I know how important your schedule is for you, please, don’t worry about it.”

 “Ah. I see. Well, thank you, Roman.”

 They never do end up having that brainstorm. Not alone.

 “Logan?”

 “Yes, Roman?”

 “Would it be alright if I played music? I’ll keep it low.”

 “…we can try, though I usually prefer working in silence.”

 “Oh, in that case, I’ll just go—“

 “Let’s try?”

 “If you’re sure.”

 Roman ends up getting his headphones after a few minutes.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes, my d—Logan?”

 “…were you going to say something else?”

 “No, no, I got lost in my head again, I thought you were…someone else.”

 “It may be worth practicing getting out of your head, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 He never quite manages, but he’s trying.

 “Ro—oh.”

 “Logan? Is something wrong?”

 “You’ve changed your room. Your…your paintings, your drawings, they’re…where did you put them?”

 “Oh, I got rid of them.”

 “Got rid of them?”

 “Yes. Surely you know how difficult it can be to work in a crowded space?”

 “…yes, I suppose I do.”

 Logan doesn’t comment on the fact that Roman’s room isn’t quite so red anymore either.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes?”

 “This idea, it seems…quite…realistic.”

 “Is that not the point, Sp—Logan?”

 “Well, yes, I suppose so.”

 “Besides, from a practical standpoint, we’re operating with a limited budget here. The scope of the videos has to be adjusted accordingly.”

 “Yes, I suppose you’re correct.”

 Logan doesn’t mention that it doesn’t necessarily feel like Roman’s idea.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes?”

 “Care to comment?”

 “Oh, no, I’m perfectly content.”

 “Are you certain?”

 “Of course.”

 Logan doesn’t ask again.

———————————————————————

Logan is really confused.

 Something’s wrong with Roman, that much is obvious, but he can’t figure out what. Roman’s been quiet lately, outside of the videos, but even in the videos, he’s been different. He’s not talking as much anymore, not going on his incredibly passionate rants that one can feel if they just listen hard enough. He’s not risen to the bait for weeks now, preferring instead to…talk. Or listen. His room is suspiciously absent of his paintings and drawings that make Logan want to sit and stare and lose track of time.

 And he’s stopped singing.

 That’s a definite indicator that something’s wrong.

 But he can’t figure out what.

 None of them are fighting; Patton and Virgil have noticed that something is different, certainly, but they don’t know—they can’t figure out exactly what. They would have told him if they had a disagreement with Roman, but they haven’t.

 Thomas isn’t being affected by it. In fact, he hasn’t noticed that anything’s wrong.

 And on the surface, Roman seems fine, but Logan knows better.

 He stops in front of his whiteboard, staring hard at the pieces of information he has written down.

  Roman is no longer singing or playing music out loud outside of his room.

Roman is changing the ideas that he brings to the brainstorming sessions. He claims they are meant to be more ‘practical’ and easier to budget.

Roman does not insist that we spend time with him anymore.

Roman is quiet and no longer engages in ‘banter’ exchanges with me.

Roman no longer brings me to the elaborate places in the Imagination.

Roman no longer gives me nicknames.

 Has…has Logan done something to Roman?

 He doesn’t think he has. He hasn’t—he hasn’t shot down any ideas lately, and certainly none so much as to trigger such a drastic change. There have been no arguments. There have been no big changes for Thomas.

 He finds himself twisting the cap of the marker back and forth as he focuses on the period at the end of the last sentence written. Perhaps…perhaps Roman is simply going through a rough patch? Occasionally the prince will lapse into a ‘grayer’ state, for lack of a better term, where he exhibits fewer of his energetic tendencies, but none have gone on for such a duration. Additionally, his behavior in videos has not altered as significantly as would indicate this as the cause.

  Perhaps I should try to talk to him about it.

 Logan nods sharply to himself and turns, walking out of his room toward Roman’s. The red door looms there, slightly ajar. Frowning, Logan raps on it gently with his knuckles.

 “Roman? May I come in?”

 No response.

 “Roman?” Logan eases the door open. “Roman?”

 No sign of Roman. The bathroom door isn’t locked, his laptop isn’t open, his phone is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Roman simply forgot to close his door all the way. Logan shuts it carefully and turns to head downstairs.

 “Virgil? Patton?”

 Virgil glances up from his phone. “What’s up, L?”

 Ignoring the little flutter in his chest at the first nickname he’s been called in a while, Logan adjusts his glasses and glances around. “Have you seen Roman?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Pat? Have you?”

 “I think he said he was going into the Imagination but he’d be back for dinner?”

 Logan nods. “Thank you both.”

 “Logan?”

 “Yes?”

 “Can you, uh—“ Patton wrings his hands for a moment— “can you ask him what’s wrong for us?”

 “Princey’s been off for a while, we wanna know why but he won’t tell us.”

 Logan blinks. “Considering I was on my way to ask him the same thing, I take it he’s been as…hesitant to share any information with you as he has with me?”

 Their nods make something twist in his chest.

 “If he’s gonna tell anyone,” Virgil mutters as he turns to go, “it’ll be you.”

 Logan pauses. “Excuse me?”

 Virgil shrugs. “You’re his favorite, L. He thinks the sun shines outta your face.”

 Despite himself, Logan feels heat rush to his cheeks. “I’m quite sure you’re confusing me for Patton, Virgil.”

 “Oh, no, Princey’s got it bad f—“

 “Virgil!”

 “Oh come on,” Virgil groans, his head lolling on the couch as he turns to look at Patton, “you’ve noticed it too.”

 “But that’s not our secret to tell!”

 “Shit. Yeah, you’re right. Oops.”

 “Wait, wait,” Logan stammers, quickly trying to get a grasp of the situation, “you—Roman what?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, Logan. I already fucked up. You’re gonna have to ask him. And hey, you were on your way to do just that!”

 Logan narrows his eyes but Virgil shrugs, undaunted. He turns and pointedly does not run up the stairs.

 The door to the Imagination is ajar. He takes a deep breath and pushes it open, expecting to meet some fantastical landscape, a village, or a castle, perhaps.

 He doesn’t expect to wander into what looks like the grand foyer of some Victorian mansion.

 The door shuts behind him with a thud that echoes gently around the room. His shoes aren’t particularly loud but his steps make resounding clicks as he walks through the halls. The walls are elegantly crafted, with artful splashes of color here and there. He comes to a grand staircase and has to swallow heavily at the richness of the wood under his fingers as he climbs slowly, slowly up.

 There’s something here, he decides, that’s not been here for a while. Not since he started accompanying Roman more often. He remembers the first time, where he’d wearily said he didn’t have the patience for an adventure and had been pleasantly surprised by Roman’s offer of a simple walk. Each walk after that had been lovely, truly, but it was always painfully obvious that it was in the Imagination.

 Now, though? Now the walls seem to curve about Logan as he walks, like petals of a flower curve about its center. The house seems to hold him, cradle him almost as he walks slowly through it. He can almost feel a gentle hand at the base of his spine, between his shoulder blades, under his chin. It takes no effort to keep walking, to discover more and more of this truly beautiful house, to look and look and look without fear of his eyes hurting or his head growing weary.

 It feels like Roman, he realizes with a giddy bubble in his chest, this is Roman’s work. Roman is here.

 That realization gives him enough courage to call out.

 “Roman? Roman, are you here?”

 “Logan?”

 “Roman!” He turns around, trying to trace the echoes to their source. “Where are you?”

 “I’m in the library, keep walking toward the back of the hall.”

 Logan’s steps beat out an eager pace as he begins to hurry towards Roman’s voice. He meets a wide set of mahogany doors and pushes them open, looking for—

 “Oh,” he murmurs as the doors swing wide, “oh, this is…magnificent.”

 If he were—well, if he were Roman, he’d compare this to the library the Beast gifts Belle. The shelves tower over his head, two full floors of books stretching out almost as far as he can see. As he looks closer, he realizes this is a theatre, with the seats replaced with shelves. At the back of the library stands the stage, converted into a seating area with as many plush couches and overstuffed armchairs as one could ever want. Curtains drape themselves across a vast window, golden sunlight streaming inside. And on the window seat, standing as the doors fly open, is Roman.

 “Roman, my goodness—“

 “Whoa, easy, Logan,” Roman chuckles, catching Logan carefully by the elbows as he rushes through the library, “you’ll knock yourself over at this rate.”

 “This is magnificent,” Logan manages, still looking around in awe—goodness, there are some books here that he’s only seen in passing— “how—how did you do this?”

 “I’ve always had it,” Roman says, guiding him to sit on the window seat and crouching in front of him, “it’s my library.”

 “This—this is yours?”

 Half of Roman’s mouth tugs up into that crooked smile. “Yeah, Logan. This is mine. You didn’t think I just let my books lie around, did you?”

 “But you—you—you’ve never shown this to me. To anyone.”

 The smile falters. “Well, no.”

 Logan takes a moment to actually look at Roman. Roman quirks his eyebrow as he notices the questioning gaze. His costume is a little less pristine than normal. There’s something slightly different about his expression. And his sword is nowhere to be seen.

 “May I—can I ask why not?”

 Roman smiles ruefully, glancing over Logan’s shoulder before dropping his gaze to the ground.

 “When I need to think,” he says after a moment, “or just…sit for a little, I come here.”

 He rests his hand on the seat next to Logan.

 “I sit right here, and I think. I look outside into the garden. I watch the clouds. Or I stare at the shelves, and think about the books.”

 He gestures behind him.

 “Sometimes I’ll see people bustling through them, or characters diving in between pages.” The smile becomes a touch more wistful. “Or I’ll hear water rushing, or wind howling.”

 He looks back. Logan’s mouth drops open at the openness of Roman’s expression.

 “But mostly,” he finishes in a near whisper, “I just sit. And think. Because I can.”

 “…this is your space,” Logan mumbles as he puts it together, “that’s…that’s why you haven’t shown anyone.”

 Roman nods.

 Logan should apologize. He should apologize and leave. He should never have expected that this would be alright.

 But the thought of leaving this library, this house, Roman feels…so, so heavy.

 “It’s alright, Logan,” Roman says patiently, sitting on the floor, “what did you need? Am I late for dinner?”

 He shakes himself, sternly reminding his brain that he’s being rude now. “No, no, nothing of the sort, I simply needed to find you.”

 Roman spreads his arms wide. “Well, you found me. Congratulations.”

 It’s so close to the banter Logan misses that he finds himself smiling. “Thank you. Shall I assume to claim my prize now, then?”

 “Mm, and what prize would that be?”

 Roman blinks up at him expectantly when he doesn’t answer right away. There are several questions on the tip of his tongue and they war with each other.

  What’s wrong?

Are you alright?

  Did something happen?

  The others and I have noticed changes in your behavior, could you explain them?

  Did I do something wrong?

  Can I stay here?

  What did Virgil almost tell me?

 “I’ve lost something,” Logan blurts instead, swallowing the lump in his throat when Roman blinks again, startled, “and I need you to help me find it.”

 “Oh. Well, that should be easy enough. Where did you last see it?”

 “Wait!”

 Logan catches a startled Roman by his sleeve as he’s in the middle of getting up. He sits back down slowly, still staring at Logan.

 “I don’t know where I lost it,” he says, because it’s the truth. Even for all his immaculate time-keeping, he can’t pinpoint the moment he lost Roman.

 “That does make it more difficult,” Roman muses, tapping his fingers on his chin, “well, can you tell me what it is? Maybe I’ve seen it.”

  I’m sure you have.

 Logan takes a deep breath.

 “I didn’t realize it was gone, at first,” he begins, “only that it—something changed. It was quieter. Rooms felt less…I believe ‘alive’ is the only word I can use to adequately describe it.”

 Roman catches on to the fact he’s speaking about something abstract quickly. Though, of course he did, he’s very intelligent. He sits up a little straighter and takes Logan’s hand in both of his. That in itself is enough to make Logan swallow again.

 “It was more difficult to continue working,” he says after a moment, looking at the ground, “because I didn’t know what was missing. I didn’t know whether the fault lay with myself or with Thomas or how to go about fixing it. I couldn’t think of anything.”

 Roman makes a noise of sympathy, squeezing Logan’s hand.

 “Of course, once I realized it was missing, I did all I could to find it.” He adjusts his glasses. “I gathered all the information I could to see what had gone wrong.”

 “And,” Roman prompts gently, “what did you find?”

 “It’s not in my room. It’s not in the kitchen. It’s not in the Imagination, or at least it wasn’t when I was there.”

 Logan closes his eyes.

 “It doesn’t make me fight back a smile every time I see it, because I am only concerned. It doesn’t make me look forward to seeing it, because it doesn’t seem to be happy to see me. It doesn’t make me want to say how important it is to me, because it doesn’t—“

 “…doesn’t what, Logan?”

 “…it doesn’t even give me a nickname anymore.”

 Roman freezes.

 Logan opens his eyes and looks at Roman, seeing his face turn pale.

 “I’ve lost the one I love,” he confesses, “and I don’t know where he’s gone.”

———————————————————————

Roman’s heart stops.

 Logan—Logan—L—

 Logan loves him?

 Logan loves him?

 “Please,” Logan says in that soft, soft voice that makes Roman want to combust, “can you help me find him?”

 “Wait, wait, Logan, you—you what?”

 Logan shifts forward, cupping Roman’s hand. “Where did you go, Roman? Something happened, you left.”

 “N-no, Logan, I didn’t go anywhere.”

 “You did,” he corrects, “you…you’ve been different. You’ve been quieter, you haven’t taken me on any adventures—“

 “I’ve taken you into the Imagination!”

 “—and you stopped singing,” Logan finishes. Roman’s chest throbs with the way Logan’s voice cracks on the last word. “You left, Roman, where did you go?”

 “I—I was trying to—to—“ Roman swallows heavily. “Wait, you love me?”

 Logan blinks, tilting his head. “Of course, yes, I love you, Roman.”

 Roman’s face flares. “You can’t—you can’t just say that, Logan.”

 “Why not?”

 “I’ll believe you. I’ll—“ the urge to bury his face in his hands burns but he can’t, can’t pull away from Logan—“I’ll believe you.”

 Logan hums. “And why shouldn’t you believe me?”

 An incredulous laugh forces its way out of his throat. “Because you can’t love me.”

 He slams his eyes shut as Logan starts to move away. He’s ruined it. He’s ruined so much of his hard work. He’s destroyed it. He’s hurt Logan. How could he?

 “And why can’t I love you, Roman?”

 He laughs again, though this one might be technically considered a sob. “Because I’m loud! I’m obnoxious, I want to spend all my time daydreaming, I’m so out of touch with the real world, I never want to be serious, I’m—I’m—“

 “Passionate,” Logan interrupts quietly, something still cupping his hand, “optimistic. Hardworking.”

 Roman huffs. “That’s not special.”

 “Intelligent.”

 Now he does laugh. “Not compared to you.”

 Logan’s stifled noise is enough to make him open his eyes. He frowns up at Logan. He looks…heartbroken.

 “Roman,” he murmurs, “do you honestly believe that?”

 He squirms uncomfortably on the floor. “…it’s not like it isn’t obvious. El principe es estupido.”

 “It’s far from obvious, Roman,” Logan insists, “why do you think I enjoy our verbal sparring so much?”

 “You what?”

 “I respect and admire your intelligence. You’re—well, not to insult the others when they’re not here to defend themselves, but you’re the only one who really keeps up with me.” Logan smiles at him. He smiles at him. “And you’re kind, Roman. Relentlessly so, sometimes.”

 Roman can only gape at him.

 “Don’t think I haven’t noticed everything you do,” Logan chides gently, “I do notice. And I am so thankful for it. But this…” He gives Roman’s hand another squeeze. “This I don’t understand. Where did you go, Roman?”

 “I—I…” Roman swallows. “I thought I was doing it for you.”

 “For me?”

 “Y-you like serious things! You don’t want to be seen as a joke and I’ve never seen you as a joke, Logan, you have to believe me, and I thought that—that I—“

 “Roman—“

 “I make fun of the things I love, Logan!” Roman’s throat almost aches from the strain of saying it out loud. “And you—you don’t like it when we’re not serious and I’m not serious so I—I thought if I—if—if—“

 “You changed so I would…love you?”

 Roman shakes his head shamefully. “So you would tolerate me.”

 “Oh, little star—“

 Roman lets out an oof as Logan tugs him forward, his knees hitting the ground roughly as he pulls Roman into a hug. He’s warm, he’s so warm and so Logan…the frames of his glasses are cool against the side of Roman’s face, the knot of his tie pressing into the hollow of his chest. And he’s being so sweet, so tender as he holds Roman on the floor of the library.

 Roman clutches him back. It’s been agony, not being able to touch him, not even the barest brush of shoulders or knocking their elbows together. But now Logan is here and he can have this.

 “I don’t want serious,” he hears Logan murmur, “not from you. Alright, sometimes, yes, I want you to listen but never to be that serious. You’re—you’re you, Roman. That’s what I want.”

 Oh.

  Oh.

 He laughs as the tears start to fall onto Logan’s collar. “You found me, Logan.”

 Logan just gives him a squeeze. “I did, little star.”

 Oh, Roman was not prepared for that. Instead, he can hear Logan chuckle as he tenses for a moment.

 “No?”

 “Yes,” Roman blurts out quickly, fumbling with his clumsy tongue, “yes. So much yes.”

 “Yes, it is then, little star.”

 He hums contentedly, burying his nose in the crook of Logan’s neck. “You found me,” he whispers, rocking them back and forth, “and I found you.”

 “Yes, little star, you found me.” Logan pulls back to cup his face, a comforting noise escaping him at the evidence of drying tears. “And now…please, don’t leave me?”

 “Never, Logan,” he swears, “never again.”

 He gets to see that wonderful soft glow on Logan’s face for a moment longer before that gleam—oh, that wonderful gleam—comes back as he arches an eyebrow.

 “No? Then why am I still ‘Logan?’”

 Oh. So that’s how this is going to go, hmm? Roman lets a little more darkness slip into his smirk than he normally would. It only grows wider as Logan looks a little surprised.

“My dearest darling nerd,” he purrs, “if you wanted me to lavish you with pet names, you know you need only ask.”

 “That is not what I meant,” Logan says firmly, undone a little by the blush now fanning his cheeks.

 Roman chuckles. “Oh, what’s wrong, my sweet little pi, is this not what you wanted?”

 “R-Roman!”

 “Goodness, Logan, your face is so warm.” Roman’s arms come up to hug him as he buries his face in his neck. “What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

 “You’re one to talk,” comes the slightly muffled reply, “you were blushing from my pet name too.”

 “Ah, yes, how could I forget? ‘Little star,’ well…” Roman cups the back of Logan’s neck and brings that darling face back out to smile at. “If I’m the star, then you must be the whole galaxy.”

 Logan tries to frown. Bless him, he tries, but he’s so flustered that it turns into this adorable pout as he leans back to get up.

 “Oh, no, no, no,” Roman chuckles, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him, “you stay right here in my lap.”

 “Roman!”

 “What?” He tilts his head. “Can you think of anywhere better to be than right here, in my lap…with me?”

 He can’t help the note of vulnerability that slips in at the end. Maybe Logan doesn’t want this, maybe he is too much, maybe he just ruined it…

 “No,” Logan murmurs after a moment, “I guess I can’t.”

 And really, it is marvelous, there on the floor, golden sunlight streaming over them, in the library, surrounded by the quiet shelves and safe hallways of the house.

———————————————————————

“I have to ask,” Roman says, giving Logan a little shake after a moment, “how did you…?”

 “Find out?”

 “Mm.”

 “Well…” Logan toys with Roman’s collar. “I was coming to ask you about it anyway, but Virgil—“

 “Virgil?” Roman raises an eyebrow. “He said something now, did he?”

 Logan squints at him. “…why do I have a feeling there’s more to this than you’re telling me?”

 Roman shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, not really.”

 “Now that I don’t believe for an instant.”

 “It got me my Logan,” Roman says softly, leaning forward to rub their noses together, “didn’t it?”

 “…well yes, I suppose it did.”

 Roman hums contentedly, cuddling into Logan like a lazy cat, sprawled out in the sunlight to nuzzle its kitten. A…surprisingly sweet image. The Imagination—Roman’s Imagination must be affecting him.

 There are worse fates.

 “But I can’t imagine,” he says after a moment, “that a prince such as yourself can allow such a slight?”

 The grin on Roman’s face is priceless.

 “Virgil,” Roman sings as they fling open the door to the rest of the Mindscape, and goodness Logan can’t tell you how much he’s missed that voice— “I have a question for you!”

 Logan hears muffled cursing coming from the living room.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Well our dearest Specs here just told me something very interesting—“ he winks at Logan— “and I would love to hear your side of the story.”

 “Oh, uh, really? Well, that’s cool. On an unrelated note, I’m gonna be in my room for the foreseeable future.”

 “Hmmm…not if I get there before you!”

 “Shit!”

 “My darling,” Roman says softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Logan’s hand, “will you excuse me one moment, please?”

 And what is Logan supposed to do but agree? Roman is back.

 “I’ll be with you shortly.”

 Roman tears off down the hallway after Virgil, their shouts filling the Mindscape once more.

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[babybluebex]

can I please request a sebastian stan imagine where sebastian and the reader are both dating other people but they end up liking each other after filming something together, and the rest is up to you? xx

distance [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 1.9k ➽ summary: see above!  ➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of tom hiddleston x reader, angst, pining ➽ a/n: enjoy!

Jealousy was new to you. Sure, you turned green every so often, but it wasn’t a usual occurrence. It happened infrequently enough that you forgot the way it felt every time it bubbled up again. Recently, though, you were familiar with jealousy. 

You weren’t quite sure when it started. Maybe when you first met Sebastian. It was at the premiere for Avengers. You had been in it, playing Tony Stark’s daughter Lucy, who was kidnapped by the crazed Loki. In filming your scenes with Tom Hiddleston, you had grown to appreciate him, and the premiere was a sort-of announcement that you were dating. By that point, you already knew that you would be in the next Captain America movie, and you were thrilled to work with Chris and Scarlet again. On top of that, you were excited to meet Anthony Mackie. 

You didn’t know that Sebastian would be in Winter Soldier until he approached you at the premiere. He looked handsome, suit and rings and slicked hair, and he congratulated you on an amazing performance. “Oh, I loved you in First Avenger,” you told him with a smile. “Bucky was my favorite by far. I cried when he died.” 

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and nodded in agreement. “She was truly a mess,” he said. “We had to pause the movie.” He shook Sebastian’s hand, and the force of it wasn’t lost on you. 

“I got emotional during your scene together in the Tower,” Sebastian said. “Lucy begging for her dad, and Loki’s unrelenting cruelty. I just… Wow. It blew me away!” 

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you gonna visit the Winter Soldier set?”

Sebastian laughed and bit his bottom lip. Full and pink. He was so totally handsome, and you felt lightheaded even being in his presence. “Well,” he started. “I’m actually in it.” 

You gasped. “What? How? Bucky died!” 

“He was rescued,” Sebastian said slowly. “By HYDRA. And he comes back.”

“Oh, my God,” you laughed. “Oh, you just made my entire night. Wow! I-I can’t wait!” 

Sebastian nodded, and he looked to his side. A few meters away, a woman was talking to the press, and she quickly came and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. You recognized her as one of his co-stars from Once Upon A Time, and you felt that unfamiliar jealousy bubble in your stomach. Why were you jealous? You were on the arm of one of the most talented and successful actors, and, besides that, you loved your boyfriend. 

So why did you want more? 

Filming for Winter Soldier started, and you quickly found out your character’s storyline. She was working with Steve and Fury to help in reparations of the New York fiasco from Avengers, and she was the first one to encounter the Winter Soldier. She wouldn’t recognize him and would tell Steve about her encounter with a super-soldier, and Natasha would tell the story of the Winter Soldier, how he was a myth and a ghost. The directors, the talented Russo brothers, had told you that an arc would extend past the movie and into the sequels where Lucy helps break Bucky Barnes from his brainwashing and they would eventually fall in love. But, they assured you, that was several films off. They didn’t even plan for Lucy and Bucky to kiss until the next Captain America movie. 

You and Sebastian became quick friends. Despite the metal-like prosthetic and long hair and heavy makeup that he wore on set, you found comfort in him. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt at ease with him. Between takes, you could be found laughing and jokingly sparing with him. 

One night, after filming, you called Tom. He was on a press tour for Dark World at the same time, which meant that your schedules never lined up. That night was the first time you had properly talked to him in weeks. “Hi, love,” you said. “How’re you? I miss you like crazy.” 

“I miss you too, darling,” Tom told you in his smooth baritone. “I’m alright. Tired as hell, though.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

“Just talk to me,” Tom sighed, and you imagined him leaning his head back. “Tell me about filming.” 

“Well,” you began. “A lot more physical than what I’m used to. A lot of running around and everything, ya know? My legs are sore all the time.” You laughed, and you listened to Tom’s scratchy laughter. “But I’m surrounded by great people. The Russos are awesome, and of course, Chris and Scarlet and Samuel are fantastic.”

“And Sebastian?”

You hesitated to talk about Sebastian. You hoped that your boyfriend hadn’t caught onto your infatuation with him, but that’s all it was. It was just a crush on a hot guy. “He’s cool,” you said. “Really funny and friendly. Most of my physical scenes are with him.” 

“I know you can’t tell me much,” Tom said. “But do you get to snog him?” 

You laughed, but bit your cheek all the same. “Not yet,” you chuckled. “That’s not until the next Captain America movie.”

“Oh,” Tom said quickly. “I was joking, but… Do you and Sebastian have any scenes like that?” 

“Not in this movie, love,” you assured him. “Are you jealous?” 

“Just a bit,” Tom admitted. “I just wish that it was me that you were kissing.” 

You sighed. “That’s the nature of our jobs, huh?” you said. “I wish I was kissing you too.” 

Tom was quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, “I think maybe we should take a break.” 

You wanted to be shocked, but you knew that it was coming. It was several months in the making and, with nothing concrete keeping you two together, it was inevitable. You weren’t hurt at all. “Me too,” you said softly. “We just… I can’t do long distance. It sounds cliche, but it’s not you, Hidds.”

“Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,” Tom sighed. “But…” 

You nodded. “I understand,” you said. “But please, if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me. Alright? I still care about you loads.” 

“Same to you, darling,” Tom whispered. And the call ended. 

The next day was weird, to put it plainly. You felt ill all morning and you couldn’t figure out exactly why, but, the moment you saw Sebastian, you understood it. Your boyfriend’s jealousy was powerful. As much as Tom wanted to blame it on something else, you knew that it was the green monster that had prompted the break up. “Hey,” Sebastian said cheerfully, placing a playful jab to your arm. “You seem tired.” 

“Gee, what a nice thing to say to a lady,” you chuckled. “No, I’m just…” You sighed. “Tom and I broke up last night. I’m a little weird today.” 

Sebastian’s face soured. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You guys seemed so happy together.” 

You shrugged. “We were,” you said. “‘Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder’... But I guess it doesn’t.” 

Sebastian frowned deep, and you pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“No,” you said, pulling out of his strong grip. Even without the actual metal arm, he was strong as hell. “Just a hug is enough.” 

“I’m glad I can do that,” Sebastian said. His eyes sparkled, and he added, “I understand what you’re going through. Jennifer and I broke up a few weeks before filming started.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Seb! I had no idea! I’m so sorry.” 

Sebastian shrugged. “It was for the best,” he said. The hug had yet to break, but you didn’t mind. Even through the layers of his costume, you could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat on your cheek, and it was soothing. 

Filming finished several weeks after your breakup with Tom, and then it was time for your own press tour. Marvel paired you with Scarlet for most press junkets, but sometimes you were put with Sebastian. Those days were your favorite, mostly because absolutely no work got done. You two were forever laughing and making fun of each other, and you always saw edits of your interviews on social media. 

Finally, the premiere came. You and Sebastian had already agreed to be each other’s dates, but you were blown away by him. His hair was short and styled, and he looked breathtakingly handsome in his expensive black suit and matching black tie. “Oh my fucking God,” Sebastian laughed when he saw you, though. “You look… Holy shit. So beautiful.” 

“Oh, God, stop,” you groaned. Your dress was a beautiful thing, custom Dior, red silk that hugged your body just right, and you shivered when Sebastian’s warm fingers trailed down your exposed back. “You look even better.” 

“Well, that’s not possible,” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re gonna steal the show.” 

“When I’m next to you?” You asked. “Everyone’s gonna be focused on your pretty blue eyes.” 

Sebastian smiled softly, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. “I have something for you,” he said gently. 

“Oh, Seb!” you groaned. “You did not buy me something. You know I hate that!” 

“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna love it,” Sebastian said, and he reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small box, just big enough for a pair of earrings or something equivalent, and he opened it. You gasped. A ring. Silver metal, two diamonds with a ruby nestled in the middle. It was dainty and gorgeous, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. 

“You piece of shit,” you sniffled. “I just had my makeup done and now you’re ruining it!” You hugged him all the same, though, and you whispered in his ear, “It’s so gorgeous, Seb. Thank you.” 

When you pulled out of the hug, you looked at Sebastian, admiring him. He was truly a gorgeous man, and you felt your chest grow hot at the look in his eyes. Were his pupils blown from love? Lust? Something else entirely? 

He answered the question. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek and tugged you into a kiss, the hand on your back pulling you in against his body, and you held onto the back of his neck. He was everything you thought he would be: his lips were soft and tasted so nice, like cinnamon and whisky and all things wonderful, and, when the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against yours. “I…” he started. “I’m sorry, Y/N, that was-- I shouldn’t have--“ 

“Stop,” you whispered firmly. You knew that Sebastian, the man you were able to call your best friend, was prone to anxiety, and you didn’t want a single anxious thought about you to cross his mind. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t kissed me, I would have kissed you. Thank you.” 

You saw Sebastian’s hands shaking as he slid the ring onto your middle finger, and you smiled at how perfectly it fit. “Bucky,” you whispered, admiring the ring. “Silver and red… Right?” 

“Glad you caught that,” Sebastian chuckled. “Look, I know that I’m just your date, but I just really like you. I feel stupid because I’m so nervous about it, but… Seeing you upset over Tom just made me feel so horrible. I never want to see you like that again, and if I can help to make your days better, then I want to. Can I?” 

You touched your hand to his cheek, and you nodded. “Of course,” you told him. “I’d love nothing more, Seb.” 

[glytchfic]

We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting. 

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems. 

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’  

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’  

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.  

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

_

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.  

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

_

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?  

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

_

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.  

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.  

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’  

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.  

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.  

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.  

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

_

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.  

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.  

‘Yes, I’m fine.’  

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.  

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (1/?)

This is dedicated to @peachworthy - my plan is to work on this when I can. I was going to try and write a full long thing (all puns intended) but thought it might be fun to just do sporadic bits instead!

“As you can see, it’s a pretty nice place…” Mr. Super Tall and Super Handsome and Super-Out-of-Link’s-League tells him as he walks him around the place. Link’s only been half listening because he’s been trailing behind this uniquely sexy giraffe of a man for about half an hour now and it’s been hard to not just…eat him up with his eyes.

Link’s lived in LA for about two years now and while he’s seen some attractive people, they all pale in comparison to…

…oh gosh, he’s forgotten his name again! Not a good thing to do when being toured by your potential roommate to be. Although Link’s pretty sure his current tour guide is just being nice.

No way he’s seriously considering letting Link move in. First of all, Link is a late in life college student trying to get a film degree. Second, this guy could have anyone live with him.

Anyone.

The fact he even needs a roommate is staggering. After all, this place is already furnished. It’s clear he’s lived here for a while now – so the need for someone else-? Link doesn’t get it.

But he sure as heck can’t stay on campus anymore. It’s embarrassing. Most of the other students there think he’s a professor as it is; and bunking with kids half his age has been a nightmare.

Not because he can’t identify with them per say, but because he just-? He wants to interact with people on the same wavelength as him.

And no way is this Greek God and he on the same wavelength. No doubt the guy’s an actor. Almost everyone in LA is. And, no doubt, the guy has probably had some gigs. Several, if the house is anything to go by…

Maybe he lost a role recently? Maybe that’s why he needs the extra income? It’s the only thing Link can think of and he’s stupid enough to voice that, “It is a nice place, man, but I don’t see how I’ll be much help. What you’ve got here looks pretty well lived in. Take it you’ve been here solo for some time and I’m not sure how-?”

“I have,” Handsome admits and oh, that southern drawl. It makes Link think of home. How perfect can one man be? “And, frankly, I don’t need a roommate, but I’d like a roommate.”

“For parts? Like the Black Market?” Link can’t help but joke, and the guy throws his head back and laughs and oh, no…

…Yeah, Link can’t live with this man. It hasn’t even been a full day and Link is practically already in love with him. And thinking of the ‘him’ he forces himself to sheepishly ask, “Um, I, ah, forgot your name again...”

“It’s Rhett.”

Of course it is.

Rhett is such a romantic name.

Rhett Butler immediately springs to mind and Link sighs, “Look, Rhett – like I said, it is a nice place, but-!”

“I tell you what I’d expect in rent?” he asks and when he lists the price, Link decides that – besides being insanely attractive – that the guy is just insane in general.

The rent is cheap. Far, far cheaper than Link expected and it must show on his face, because Rhett shrugs, “Look, Link – I can’t say what it is, but I gotta feeling about you. I’ve met with a couple of potential roommates and, honestly, none of them have gone this far. I haven’t let ‘em. But there’s something about you…”

“My natural charm?” Link asks, but he’s sort of giggly and weird when he does and oh, gosh – why is he so awkward? Isn’t he too old for this? Don’t you reach a certain age and awkwardness just…drops off?

But apparently not and, apparently, Rhett isn’t turned off by it, because he gives him a warm grin, “Might be.”

“Rhett…”

“Might be the accent to be honest,” he confesses, seeming almost shy and that should be illegal, because it just highlights how cute he is, “I’m from North Carolina and it just-!”

“Hey!” Link perks up, “Me too!”

“Really?” Rhett gushes and Link nods, “Yeah, Buies Creek.”

“Oh! My family and I almost moved there! Ended up in Charlotte instead!”

“Wow! Crazy! What are the odds!” And Link hates every cliched thing coming out of his mouth right now, but he can’t seem to stop and Rhett just looks so damned pleased.

As if his feeling about Link is right on the money and Link wishes it was, but this can’t possibly work. Can it? And just as Link is about to voice that, Rhett suddenly looks…apprehensive. Fidgety.

And Link’s caught a bit off guard by it, because – up until now – he’s been so cool. Cool and collected. But now Rhett runs a hand through his thick mane of hair and sighs as if a great weight is upon him, “Ah…actually, I, ah, well – I forgot…”

Here it is. Link’s been waiting for this. The big secret. The big reason someone as amazing as Rhett would need someone like him. Maybe it is the Black Market thing. Link has some nice organs. Real juicy. Maybe revealing his background has made the big guy feel bad – like he can’t carve up a fellow North Caroliner.

Rhett rocks on his heels, “I told you, none of the other potential roommates made it this far and…there’s a reason for that. Even the one or two I kinda considered…well, I, um, I told them what I do for a living and that’s when things sort of fell apart…”

…oh shit. He IS a Black Market organ dealer!

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks around skittishly. The house is big and they’re alone in it. He’s been so distracted by how hot Rhett is that he hasn't even thought about that fact.

Until now.

What if the other potentials didn’t get this far because they got cut up beforehand? Maybe the whole roommate thing is a farce! Maybe it’s a con! A con to draw people in and-!

“I work in the entertainment industry.”

Link blinks. Blinks and feels like the dumbest man on planet earth as he says, “Well, yeah. You and half of LA. Heck, I’m here trying to get into film myself! Do some directing or sound editing or-!”

“No,” Rhett says firmly, smoothly, meeting Link’s eyes head on as he says in a full deep register, “When I say I work in the industry, I mean it. I’ve, um, had a pretty healthy and…and long career…”

“Really?” Link asks, eyes wide behind his glasses, “Have I seen anything you’ve-?”

“Doubt it,” Rhett interrupts with a humorless huff, “You don’t seem the type. But then,” he eyes him thoughtfully, “I’ve been surprised before…”

Link doesn’t know why he’s being so cagey about this, “What’ve you-?”

“My resume is…” Rhett finally looks away, as if he can’t bear to look at Link when he says it, “…of the adult variety.”

“The adult-?” Link starts to repeat and then it clicks. It clicks and it hits him so hard over the head it’s like a physical blow. The house, the handsomeness – the…everything.

Rhett looks back at him, jaw firmly set as he speaks, “Look, it’s not that I’m ashamed of what I do. Far from it. It’s just a job and it’s one I happen to be good at. But it’s also one that people in polite society aren’t too keen on and considering you’re from my home state you might-!”

“Porn?” Link croaks out and he feels a little like he might faint, “You’re a porn star?”

Rhett just kind of shrugs and the reason Link feels lightheaded has nothing to do with his shock at the man’s career and everything to do with the fact that Link has only seen a few porn films and none of them have ever stared someone so breathtakingly beautiful. The idea that Rhett has been in something like that…

Heat suffuses through Link’s system with equal mixes of lust and shame. Lust because, well, look at Rhett and shame because Link doesn’t want to just view the man as a sex object, Granted, that’s kind of his job, but it just seems…rude.

While Link doesn’t know Rhett well, he knows him well enough at this point to say he’s just a regular guy. An extremely gorgeous regular guy, but a regular guy all the same.

Thinking of him in simple black and white just doesn’t do him justice. So he’s a porn star. So what? He’s nice and this place is amazing and the rent suggested is fantastic and-!

“Take it by your silence you’re gonna decline…”

“No!” Link cuts in quickly and Rhett’s eyes shoot to him, wide and amazed, and Link feels a little sense of superiority at that. At catching this giant off guard, “No, uh – your…your profession isn’t a problem.”

“It’s not?”

“Well, I mean,” Link looks around once more, "You don’t-? You don’t film here, do you?”

The laugh that booms out of Rhett at that makes Link’s toes curl with pleasure, “Nah, man. This place is sacred. Like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

“And…” Link scratches at the back of his head, “And you won’t, like…bring over a-a partner or partners and-!”

“Don’t have one,” Rhett admits and then the sexiest crinkles form around his eyes, “Although I gotta say, that’s about the slickest way anyone’s ever asked me if I was single…”

The heat from before returns full blast, no doubt coloring Link’s cheeks pure red and it comes completely from shyness, an emotion he is much more familiar with than most, “Oh, no! I-I wasn’t-!”

“Think you were asking if I do some weird sex shit here in the house of the personal variety and, again, no. You work in my field you kinda lose a bit of a taste for it.”

“For sex?”

Rhett nods, “And for a lot of things. It’s like I said – I'd like a roommate. Mainly ‘cause I’ve been feeling a little…disconnected of late. Feel like I need someone in my life who isn’t in the business. Someone I can just, y’know…” his shoulders roll and he bobs about a bit, clearly bashful, “…jam with.”

“Someone on your wavelength…” Link whispers and suddenly, Rhett’s idea that Link might be someone worth keeping around feels totally legitimate. Because Link is suddenly reciprocating it and then some. Because Link's starting to have a feeling about him too.

A feeling that this could work.

It really could.

And, this in mind, Link asks, “When can I move in?”

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

Meant To Be - Happy Birthday Joe

A little surprise for all of you. To remember and appreciate what is meant to be and what never has been. Happy 30th birthday to Joe.

With one last moan and the sweetest sigh he’s ever witnessed escape her mouth, Joe feels her body weight drop right onto his chest. Two strains of hair right by his nose and two hands that have already wandered onto the warm and soft skin of her bare back. Joe breathes her in deeply one time, realizes for the first time today that the sun is out. Not just a little bit. For the first day this year, London feels like spring has already come. Even if just from their bedroom window. He then feels Taylor sigh in exhaustion once more while remaining motionless on his chest. He turns his head, immediately clings his lips onto her head. He can feel her stir a bit, then upright herself on him and sit up once more. Joe can’t help but laugh at her. Still fully naked and her most private part still occupied by him, she just sits here and looks down at him. The brightest sleepy smile on her lips. 

“Was that a good one?” She mumbles, her hands already stroking his stubbly cheeks. Joe grins, his hands securely on her waist. 

“Not too bad.” He says provokingly, making her laugh again. This time, Taylor moves off his lap, lets herself fall onto the spot next to him where she slept last night and places her tiny hand on his bare chest. She looks at him with a soft smile, her forehead immediately dropping against his shoulder. She then rises her head up again and presses a soft kiss onto the spot on his skin. 

“Happy birthday.” She whispers and Joe smiles again. He doesn’t move, just lays there in full bliss, smiles at the naked woman next to him who’s cuddling herself against his side. 

“Welcome to 30.” She adds and Joe sighs. Once more, she lifts her head up to catch a glimpse of his face and it makes her laugh. He seems to not be too amused by the fact that she had to point that one out too. 

“Welcome to the 30 club. I hope you enjoy it here. Drinks are free.” Taylor says, as she lifts herself up, comfortably rests her head in her hand with her elbow comfortably resting on the pillow. She just looks at him while lounging there nakedly. And she doesn’t mind the fact that her bare breasts are still exposed. She does’t mind being naked with him at all.

“Thanks, do I get a pass too? Or just a stamp on the hand?” 

Taylor smirks again, her hand now stroking his cheek again. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks then, not even interested anymore in the joke she made just seconds earlier. But Joe is used to her speed. To the rollercoaster of a mind that the woman he loves always have had. It’s hard to keep up with her sometimes, but he enjoys every second of the ride. 

“Old.” 

Taylor laughs, kisses his cheek one time. 

“I feel the same I felt last night when we went to bed. Only that now I feel exhausted too.” He says with a smirk, moves to the side now to get a better look at his naked girlfriend. His hand lands on her hip as she pulls him closer. He feels her smile in the kiss. Nothing better than making her laugh. 

Just when Taylor pulls away, Joe’s hand wanders up, right over her naked arm and onto her neck and face. Her arm is cold, a sensation he immediately feels. 

“Are you freezing” he mumbles, as Taylor already reaches for the duvet and covers herself and Joe. He thought about getting up a few moments ago, but it seems she’s not quite there yet, casually makes herself comfortable in bed, in the sheets and in his arms. Joe enjoys her proximity, takes a deep breath and looks at the massive window again. Through the white curtains he can already see the blue sky. How lucky he feels in that moment. 

“What are your wishes for thirty?” He hears her murmur then, his arm underneath her neck. His hand already caressed by hers. 

“Mhm good question. I assume you got me a chocolate cake. And..”

“Not that.” She laughs again. Her cold feet buried between his now.

“I mean.. what do you want out of your thirties. What do you hope for. What do you want to change.”

“Well.. it would be great if the pandemic could be over before my forties start.” 

“Okay I”m on it.” She answers and he grins. 

“Also.. world peace.”

“I”ll get right to it.” 

“And maybe… that you won’t leave me.”

Taylor chuckles again, turns her head to face him. 

“That one might be tough, I have to say.” She jokes, squeezes his hand a bit tighter this time. 

“Maybe some kids along the way.” He says boldly, thought about this one for quite a few seconds now and decided to just go with it. Taylor doesn’t really move. He knows this topic has become a big one in the past year. 

“That would be nice.” She answers then, not looking at him and makes him smile a bit more. 

“You know what I sometimes wonder..” She begins and he just patiently waits. “Imagine if that one night in LA had never happened.”

“What do you mean?” He asks then, still feels her small fingers drawing circles on his thumb. 

“What if we never had met that night. I mean.. we just accept the things that life throw at us, but what if we had made a single decision differently. What if that evening, I would’ve decided to stay home with the cats. Or.. what if you decided to not go to drama school and pursue acting. Imagine how.. different our lives might have been. And we never would’ve met.”

Joe doesn’t really answer her, and Taylor sits up. She moves under the blanket, so much that she can look at his beautiful face again. He seems to be thinking about what she just said. 

“A scary thought.” He says then and she laughs again. 

“Do you think so?” She asks him curiously, and it confuses him. 

“Do you not think so?” 

Taylor laughs. 

“I just.. I sometimes wonder where we would be if we hadn’t met. Or what your thirtieth birthday would look like today.” 

Joe giggles quietly, presses a big kiss against her head once more. This is one of the reasons he loves her so. Her ability to fantasize about life. Her grand imagination. One of the greatest similarities they both have. Together, Taylor and him could write book on ends about the different worlds they have created together in their minds. From watching strangers on the tube for hours, to telling their stories together through songwriting. It’s these moments in which he feels the most connected to her. Something that will hopefully never change. 

“I think I would probably still be in LA, dating someone else who I actually hate. Maybe be engaged to some douche bag just because I felt pressured to say yes.” she says with a sarcastic undertone. He knows that voice. It’s her worst-case-scenario voice. 

“I think you’d be a person as fantastic as you are now. No matter who would be on your side.” he says and she slowly looks up at him, a bit more serious than before. 

“Thank you for saying that.” She whispers, her hand playing with the little hairs in his neck. 

“What do you think you would’ve done if acting hadn’t worked out for you? Do you really think you’d work as journalist?” She asks then and he laughs again. He slowly places his hand over her shoulder and stares onto the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I think so. I always loved theatre and film. I think I would be writing critical pieces for a magazine maybe. Probably living in a shit flat down south. Still trying to make it in acting.” 

Taylor laughs again, her eyes widening suddenly. 

“Remember that girl you were talking to back then?”

Joe just looks at her in disbelief and rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah I do.” He mumbles. 

“What was her name again?” Taylor persists and he can’t believe her.

“Liza.” 

“Yeah right Liza. What does she do now? Do you think you’d be with her?” 

Joe turns his head and looks at her. He can’t believe she is that interested in some girl he spoke through texts with, years ago. 

“I.. I don”t know. Why would I think about that”

Taylor cuddles herself closer to him and takes a deep breath. 

“Maybe then your life wouldn’t include paparazzis and people speaking about you on the internet. Or not being able to go to public without being worried that..”

“Hey, where does that come from now? None of that on my birthday.” He suddenly interrupts her a bit more serious than before. Taylor doesn’t move, just draws little circles on his naked chest. She seems uncomfortable suddenly, knows how stupid her thought just had been. 

“It would be easier, we both know that.” 

“It wouldn’t be because then I didn’t have you in my life.”

Taylor just emotionally looks up to him and smiles softly. She then nods. She believes what he says. 

“Do you think you and Liza would take a trip California together then? On your annual leave? Or maybe you would travel to California by yourself one day, on a business trip. Passing by my house.” She says in her melancholic and dreamy voice.

Joe just laughs, cannot believe this situation. The woman he love most, lays in bed with him all naked and plays this mind game of imagining him with his ex- girlfriend. 

“Why are you so obsessed with that idea.” He jokes. 

“I just think I’m crushing on alternate universe Joe.” 

This time, she really makes him laugh too. 

“You sick little thing.” He jokes and kisses her again laughing.

“Do you think we would’ve met?” 

Joe keeps staring at her, not quite sure where she’s going with this.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think if we hadn’t met that evening and you hadn’t successfully become an actor would we.. would we ever have met?”

Joe looks at her for another second. He didn’t understand for the longest time, but he does now. A sense of sadness overcomes him, followed by huge relief and gratefulness. She was right when she said that we humans just simply accept what is without becoming more grateful for the single choices we’ve made that led us here.

“I don’t know if we would have.” he says, his hand still on her arm. A weird silence coming over them.

Taylor just remains like this for a second, then smiles again quietly and presses a kiss onto his lips before sitting up. 

“Alright, birthday boy.” She says, ends the random sad silence then and looks at him as excited as possible for his birthday. “You will stay in bed for a bit longer and give me some time to prepare your surprise birthday breakfast.”

Joe watches her get up, quickly change into her pajama shorts again and throws his big grey t- shirt right over her torso. 

He smiles. 

“I can help you make breakfast.” He says, still lazily laying in bed watching her get dressed. 

“No way!” She just says, gets closer to him and presses one last kiss onto his lips. Her bangs softly fall against his forehead, and his hand lands on her waist again. This time, she pulls away way too fast for his taste, grants him a last smile as he watches her disappear downstairs. 

Joe just turns around once more, smiles at this beautiful beginning of the day. He can’t quite belief the weather forecasts have been right this time, predicted a spring day this February. Joe takes a breath, hears the clatter of bowls and plates from the kitchen. 

Taylor was right. The more he thinks about him being 30 now, the more he wonders what he did right to get to this state of satisfaction and happiness in his life. Where did he go right? Where did he took the right turn? Said yes, when necessary and no when needed? Joe closes his eyes for a second again, wonders what would be if he hadn’t gone out that one evening in Los Angeles. More than five years ago. 

Joe opens his eyes, realizes he must have fallen asleep again and moves his body to sit up slowly. After a few minutes he gets up, walks himself down the stairs, immediately feels the cold coming from downstairs. The heating seems to have gone out again. He can’t believe the property owners didn’t take care of the heating system before, as promised. 

“Babe?” He yells downstairs, but no answer. Just when he enters the small living room, he sees her sitting there. A coffee mug in her hand, the telly on. She just turns to him and smiles. Her brown hair behind her ear. 

“Hey! Happy birthday!” She mumbles, as he already leans towards her and presses a kiss onto her lips. He still is upset about their argument last night. The same one they’ve had for a while now. About her claiming he works too much. And still not makes enough money. How he’s still trying to become an actor when he could’ve accepted that job at the publishing company that would’ve actually paid the bills. How he’s a dreamer and not a provider. How he needs to grow up. Needs to become someone she wants to be with.

Joe knows that arguments and criticism is necessary for growth. And as hurtful as it can be, he appreciates her view on things. He appreciates that she’s honest with him. Speaking her mind when it comes to his career and their relationship. Even if it hurts, at times. 

“Thanks. Heating is off again?” He asks and Liza just nods. She seems off again, just turns her head to the telly. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” She mumbles, takes a sip off her coffee cup again. She’s still mad. He feels it in the room. “We both know that if the bills had been paid on time this month as stated in our agreement, then maybe they would’ve fixed it.”

Joe just sighs once more, wanders to the coffee machine and fills up a cup for himself. 

“It’s my birthday today. Can we just..”

“It’s fine, Joe. I won’t bring it up again.” She answers and he knows it’s not over yet. He has no clue why but at times it feels like she doesn’t even like who he’s become. Doesn’t even accept his weak side anymore. “So what do you want to do for your birthday?” She asks then, turns her head to look at him. Joe leans against the kitchen counter, looks at her. 

“I want a hug.” he then says, and Liza smirks. She sighs, places her mug on the table next to her and gets up. Joe smiles as she gets closer to him and presses a kiss onto her lips. He hugs her tightly, as she slowly lets go again. 

“You’re such a baby.” She laughs, then opens the fridge to get some inspiration for breakfast. 

“Do you want to go to the museum today?”

Joe looks at her and smiles. What a great idea.

“I’d love that actually.” 

She nods and then stares back at the fridge and sighs. “We don’t have anything anymore except for milk. Do you want to go out and get something to eat?” Joe nods, grabs the warm mug next to him and walks upstairs again. He quickly puts on his grey sweats, the old dirty sneakers, and a big hoodie. He doesn’t mind going to the shops this morning. He likes doing things for her. Especially because he knows that she’s going through enough trying to support him getting more paid roles as an actor while struggling to pay rent every month. 

Joe joggs down the stairs and leaves the house immediately. As he walks down the empty street, he checks his phone, finds messages of his mum asking him to call her back as soon as he can. Joe smiles, presses the green button and waits. The cold wind almost bruises his face. He can’t believe it’s still freezing in London at that time. 

“Happy birthday, my love.” He hears Elizabeth yell into his ears. Joe laughs while walking down the suburban neighborhood, feels so much warmth all of the sudden. He knows that Liza loves him. He knows that she would’ve celebrated his thirtieth birthday just as much if he hadn’t started a fight last night again instead of just accepting her opinion on his job. He knows all that but it still feels good to feel his mother’s excitement. After all, it’s a new decade. A new beginning. His birthday.

“Thanks mum.” He just chuckles, looking at his old sneakers with a shy smirk. 

“My darling, I hope you’ve had a beautiful morning. I can’t wait to come over and squeeze you.” She says and Joe laughs out loud. 

“Yeah mum. Already scared of that.” He jokes and makes the woman laugh too. 

“Where are you?”

“On the way to Sainsbury’s. Just getting some breakfast.” 

“Where’s Liza?” He hears his mother’s voice more concerned than before. 

“Oh, she’s at home. Heating is off again.” 

“Why didn’t she come with you? It’s your…”

“We had a little argument last night. So I fully get that she’s not in the mood to…”

“Oh she’s never in the mood for anything joyful.” He hears his mother ramble. Joe sighs, rolls his eyes slightly. He is well aware that his relationship with Liza hasn’t been easy, but that doesn’t mean that his mother can’t at least try to put her differences with Liza aside. After all, she’s the woman on his side. And he needs his mothers support for this relationship. He needs that a lot. 

“Mum, don’t be like that.” Joe says as he slowly enters the local Sainsbury’s here in Colliers Wood. He quickly grabs a cart, starts to walk down the empty market. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just happy to see you this afternoon?” The woman doublechecks and Joe, who stops right by the jam, immediately agrees. He slowly ends the phone call, compares prices and chooses the cheaper one. He then wanders down the isle and stops by the in- house bakery, grabs a bag and decides to go for the pain au chocolat. Liza’s favorite. As he almost made it to the cashier, he sees a line forming and patiently waits. Something he’s gotten so good at in the past years. Waiting. His eyes wander to the little screen in the corner of the ceiling right on the left side of the shop. A music video is on. God, this Sainsbury’s has always been a bit sleazy. 

Say you remember me, standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset babe, red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams, uh uh. 

Joe keeps on staring at the woman in the music video. He was convinced that the singer had blonde hair before. Weird. While still waiting for the lady in front of him to unload her cart, Joe keeps on watching the video. It’s quite funny. The woman who’s a true Hollywood star seems to hate being in the spotlight, sings about her desire for her unreachable lover. What he would give to be in her shoes. What he would do to feel the Californian sun on his face like that. 

Joe looks down again, starts taking his items out of the card. Just a few minutes later he’s back in the cold again, wishing the heating would work again so that he could at least look forward to the warmth of coming home. Not even that is working at the moment. Just as Joe then unlocks the old door he smiles. He can’t wait to have a nice breakfast in bed together with Liza. 

“I’m home and I got you a French and bougie pain au chocolate.” He exaggerates, puts on his best French accent and has to laugh at himself because the unhealthy and cheap Sainsbury version of the pastry certainly is none of these things. Just as he closes the door, he gets confused. The telly is off. The flat is empty. Joe slowly walks closer to the kitchen counter and places the plastic bag next to him. He immediately finds a note on the counter and feels the sting in his chest. 

“Meeting mum for coffee. Back in 1 hour xx”

Joe holds the note in his hand for a few seconds, just stands there, looking at the old backyard right behind the living room door. He stands there, then crumbles the note in his fist and walks upstairs. Still in his big sweatshirt from outside, he opens his old laptop and starts to google. 

Drama School Los Angeles

Joe opens his eyes, realizes he must have fallen asleep again and moves his body to sit up slowly. He needs a few moments to find his orientation again, then feels the warm ray of sunshine on his naked back once more. After a few seconds he gets up, walks himself down the stairs, immediately feels the warmth coming from downstairs. He can hear Taylor roaming around the kitchen, immediately hears her freak out as she sees him standing there. 

“Oh no. No no no.” she says, runs towards him half naked and immediately covers his eyes. Joe, who’s still more than sleepy can’t help but laugh. He’s confused. Even though he secretly loves the effort she’s put into this morning.

“Babe, what…”

“I told you to only come downstairs once I allow you to.” She says, actually sounds a bit mad and it makes him laugh even more.

“I’m sorry but…”

“Keep your eyes closed. Just one more second.” She demands stressed and Joe does as he is told. With eyes closed, he stands in the doorway of the spacious kitchen, can already smell that she’s been baking. He laughs again, as he suddenly feels her arms around his torso and her head that’s being pressed onto his chest. 

“Open your eyes.” She whispers excitedly. Joe opens his eyes and looks at the kitchen with a big smile. Taylor has decorated the entire area with balloons and a big 30 hanging from the ceiling. There’s flowers and presents on the table as well as the dark chocolate cake that she knows he loves the most. 

“Happy birthday, baby!” She hugs him from the side. Joe can’t help but start laughing. He feels how emotional he’s getting, just hugs her a bit tighter from where he’s standing. 

“That… that’s… so beautiful.” He mumbles and Taylor laughs. She’s still in her pajamas but she’s giggling excitedly. 

“I know we’re in a pandemic and you would love to have your family here or go to a museum today, but…”

It’s this moment, when it hits Joe the most.

“No, no it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect.” Joe says and won’t let go off her. He presses his nose into her shoulder and breathes her in a bit more. Taylor feels immediately that something is up. He seems more emotional than before. And she doesn’t overinterpet anything to it, just holds him closely and strokes his back over his t- shirt a bit longer than before. 

“Are you okay?” She whispers then, feels Joe kiss her cheek before pulling back. He then looks at her with a serious look and nods. 

“I thought about what you asked before and I just want you to know, we... we would’ve met. We definitely would’ve met.” 

Taylor looks at him a bit confused, enjoys her chest still being pressed against his. 

“You think so?” She asks quietly and Joe kisses her bangs again. 

“It was meant to be this way.” 

Taylor smiles at him, likes that thought a lot. She feels Joe reach for her face and lets him kiss her softly. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Happy birthday.”

[hercleverboy]

promise

matthew gray gubler x reader 

genre > angst/fluff

wc > 1.8k

the reader is tired of matthew never being home. 

Y/N sighed as she looked up at the clock perched on the table top. It was nearing 9pm and she’d only just been able to get her son to sleep. It had been like this for weeks. Matthew’s job understandably took up a lot of his time, but before having their son the couple had discussed him cutting back a few of his hours so that he could be home more. And for the first few years of their sons life he kept that promise, never missing a single milestone. However the last few months Matthew was less and less seen around the house. He was gone early in the morning and back late at night.

At first, Y/N said nothing. From the time she did get to spend with her husband, it was clear that he was stressed about his work and that it was preventing him from taking care of himself. She didn’t want to add to his stress by bringing it up. Matthew was a fantastic father, and no one could ever think otherwise.

However, over the last few weeks it had become increasingly clear to Y/N just how devestated Jacob got when his father wasn’t home to tuck him in at night, especially when he’d promised him he’d be home in time. Jacob was definitely more of a Mumma’s boy, but he idolised his father- he was fascinated by the magic tricks he showed him and the random facts he knew. She’d tried to explain that his father would’ve loved to be able to be there to say goodnight, but he had work to do. Unfortunately, that was a difficult concept to ask a four year old to understand. 

Tonight had been different. Tonight was the first night Jacob had cried at bedtime when Y/N told him Matthew wouldn’t be there to tuck him in. it had broken her heart. After soothing her son enough so he could fall into an uneasy sleep, Y/N slipped out of his room, grabbing her phone and calling her husband.

She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer.

So she sent him a simple text, one that would spike fear in any man.

We need to talk.

Fuck. Matthew knew he was in for it when he got home.

He gently opened the front door, trying not to make too much noise. He flicked up his wrist, checking the watch that sat there. 10:27pm.

The first thing he saw when he entered the living room was his wife, sat expectantly on the couch, giving him with this look that only she could give him.

“You promised him, Matthew.” She spoke, her tone cold and he could hear the anger she was biting back for the sake of their sleeping son.

“I know, I know I did but filming ran over and we had to reshoot a few scenes and I just lost track of things.” He attempted to explain, walking toward her.

“I understand that but you shouldn’t have promised him. He’s a kid, he doesn’t understand the technicalities of things. He understands who’s there and who isn’t.” She stood, moving to wrap her arms around herself in a self-comforting way. 

“Well I’m sorry, Y/N. But my job is important.” His voice raised slightly, nostrils flaring.

“Is this family not important? Your son?” Her volume raised to match his.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know that you and Jacob mean everything to me!”

She sighed, glancing away from him. “He’s devastated whenever I tell him that you’re not gonna be home in time to tuck him in. He has been for weeks, but tonight..” She looked back at him, tears burning in her eyes. “He cried.” 

Matthew’s defensive stance dropped at the mention of his son being so upset. “He was.. he cried?”

Y/N sniffled and looked down, nodding slightly. She didn’t want to make him feel bad, and she certainly wasn’t trying to guilt trip him,  but how else could she explain how much this was hurting their son?

“Y/N I didn’t-“ He started but she shook her head at him.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m exhausted, Matthew.”

“And you don’t think I am? Don’t you think I hate having to be away from you two? How I hate myself every time I know I promised him I’d be there and I have to let him down? Why don’t you consider how it makes me feel?” He shouted, his defensive stance back again. Y/N was about to respond when her eyes landed on a small figure standing by the bottom of the stairs. Their son, dressed his favourite blue dinosaur pyjamas, his big hazel eyes looking between his parents.

Y/N quickly wiped her tear-stained cheeks, forcing a smile onto her lips as she looked at her son. “Jacob, sweetheart. What are you doing up? It’s late.”

Jacob nodded, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “I woke up and I heard shouting and I came down to see if daddy was home.” He gave a little smile at the sight of his father, even in his sleepy state.

“Yeah I’m home, buddy. Come here.” Matthew grinned through watery eyes, bending down as his son came toward him, enveloping the small boy in his arms. Matthew pressed a kiss to Jacob’s head full of brown curls before pulling back. “You gotta go to sleep, bud. Go with mummy, I’ll be here in the morning and we can talk then, okay?”

Jacob nodded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Do you promise?” He whispered.

Matthew but his lip but still nodded. “Yeah, I promise.” He made eye contact with Y/N, who quickly looked away before smiling down at their son.

“Okay Jake, let’s get you to bed, yeah?” She bent down slightly to lift him into her arms, his head dropping against her shoulder as he fought sleep.

Matthew watched as she carried their son up the staircase, disappearing upstairs. His heart ached.

*

Y/N had tucked Jacob back into bed, making sure he was comfortable. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and turned to leave when his small voice broke the silence.

“Mummy?”

She turned back toward him with a frown. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you and daddy getting a divorce?” His little voice whispered, and she came back towards his bed, kneeling down beside it, shocked by the question.

“A divorce? Where did you hear that?” She questioned gently.

“There’s this girl in my class, Lily. She said her parents used to fight all the time and they ended up getting a divorce. Now she hardly sees her daddy anymore.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Well, there’s no need to worry about that.” She promised, and his hazel orbs looked into hers, getting a little watery as they filled with tears.

“I don’t want to never see daddy.” He cried, and her heart broke.

She got up, moving to sit beside him in the bed, cradling him into her side. “Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart.” She cooed. “I love your father very much. Sometimes we disagree on things, but we’re not getting divorced, okay?”

Once she’d finally lulled her crying son to sleep, she slipped out from the bed and gently closed his bedroom door behind her, walking back toward her and Matthew’s shared room.

He was sat on the bed, feeling guilty over their petty argument. He knew it was silly, and really it was just that he was stressed over his job, and he also knew Y/N was right. He had been spending less time than he’d like at home, and it broke his heart to think that doing so was impacting his son so negatively.

He looked up when Y/N came into the room, gently closing the door behind her.

She looked at him, and he could see the tears that welled in her eyes. He smiled sadly and opened his arms for her to come into, a way of saying he was sorry- that all was forgiven. She sat beside him, head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her. He kissed her forehead and was about to apologise when she spoke.

“Jacob asked if we were getting a divorce.” She sniffled. Matthew pulled back slightly to look at her, a frown on his face.

“A divorce? Where’d he learn that?” He asked.  

“I don’t know, I guess he must’ve heard us arguing. He said a girl in his class told him that her parents got a divorce because they argued, and that she didn’t get to see her dad much anymore.” She mumbled, and Matthew’s grip tightened on her. “He got upset, he thought you were gonna leave. That he wouldn’t see you again.”

Tears had welled in Matthew’s eyes at the thought of his son thinking he was ever going anywhere. 

“I’m sorry.” Matthew whimpered out, and she looked up quickly, to see the tears falling from his eyes. he was always very in touch with his emotions, and the idea of his son thinking he was going anywhere really hurt him.

Y/N moved slightly so she could wrap her arms around him to comfort him as he cried on her shoulder. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.” She soothed, running her fingers through his hair. “We just- we can’t argue like that anymore. Not if it’s gonna hurt him like this.”

She felt him nod against her. “I know. I’m so sorry, it was my fault in the first place-“

She shook her head, pulling back. She cupped his cheeks gently, using her thumbs to wipe away his tears. “No, don’t do that. It was both of us. We’re a team, okay? Everything we do, we do together.”

He nodded again looking down, his hands holding her firmly by the waist, as though he was afraid she’d disappear. “I just don’t want you to think that I take you, or this family for granted. This family means the world to me and I need you to know that I would give up everything for you.”

She smiled up at him. “I know. but I won’t ever ask you to give up your work for us. I was only asking you to cut it back just a little. ‘Cause I know you, you get so passionate about these projects that sometimes you lose yourself in them and that’s not a bad thing. Your passion is one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

He blushed, a small smile breaking out on his lips.

“I just need you to remember that you have a little boy waiting for you to come home. A little boy who looks up to you, god- he thinks the world of you, Matthew.”

Matthew’s smile only grew bigger, as he looked up, finally meeting her eyes. “What would I do without you?” He murmured, pulling her closer to him.

She smiled brightly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

It was a promise, and with it came the reassurance that was more than enough to eradicate any negative thoughts Matthew had. And when he pressed his lips to hers, he could tell it was all going to be okay.

-

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[pemfrost]

Dimiclaude- arranged marriage ?

I had something else in mind completely, but then I saw a preview for "married at first sight" and decided to do a modern AU. Never seen the show, so I just made the rest up. Hope you like it!

Dimitri assessed himself in the ornate mirror again, acutely aware of the cameras capturing his every movement, every emotion. Even his wildest daydreams never once included a television camera crew filming his wedding. Yet, the chaos helped keep his attention far from the very real vows he was about to make to a man he had never met. 

The venue was fantastic, he couldn't have selected something better himself. It warmed his heart to know the man he would be marrying found an outdoor wedding ideal as well, and where better than a vineyard overlooking a lush valley? So far, everything was perfect. Perfect venue, perfect weather, perfect suit, and, if all went well, he would leave with the perfect husband. 

Sylvain's laughter announced his arrival, and Dimitri wasn't surprised to find the Producer, Manuela, fawning over him. "Heya, Dimitri! Whoa, Felix wasn't joking when he said you're dressed to the nines."

Manuela laughed, a practiced sound. "Of course, we couldn't have our star looking anything less than his best on his wedding day!" She clapped her hands together, "Alright, we need to film some camera confessionals to splice into the intro and before the breaks. Are you ready?"

Dimitri nodded, not trusting his voice. Dedue, his best man, had left to take a personal call. He was his rock through the whole process, by his side from the day he caved into Sylvain's suggestion and signed up for the matchmaking television show. Dedue's calm presence kept him centered while he waited months for a match to be made.

"Alright," Manuela clapped again, bringing his attention to the camera now in front of him. "First question: How are you feeling now?"

Dimitri inhaled and mentally repeated the general rules Manuela gave him for talking to the camera. He didn't want to redo the shots like he often had to at the beginning of the process. Being in front of the camera was nothing new for him, but filming reality television was very different from filming one of his movies.

"Right now… I am still in disbelief. I gave up finding love years ago, and to have this chance…" He looked away from the camera. "Knowing the man waiting for me at the altar is there because experts have determined we are compatible… Knowing he is not here because of my family name or my wealth means so much."

"Good, good. Question two" Do you think getting married will impact your career?"

"I hope not. My movies have been successful because of my talent, and while I am very aware of my… fan club… I believe they will be happy if I am happy."

"Question three: any pushback from your family during this process?"

"Only concern from my friends, but they support me going through with this. One of them is actually why I signed up for it- after a lot of cajoling. And some alcohol to calm my nerves."

Someone with a clipboard and earpiece grabbed Manuela's attention, and she motioned for him to walk around for some action shots as she disappeared out the door. He complied, but was disappointed to note Sylvain had slipped away during his interview. Typical; the man couldn't stay still on a normal day. 

He walked to the window, looking out at the vineyard. Two small guest houses sat on the estate, built so couples could get ready for their wedding separately. There was no chance he would accidentally see his fiancé, and even if he did, how would he tell him apart from the other guests and crew milling about the property? 

Would he like the man they chose for him? After so many interviews, personality tests, and various questionnaires, he sure hoped so. More importantly, would he like Dimitri? Was his custom Brioni suit too much? Would the non traditional deep blue be acceptable? His life was often a whirlwind when he was filming a movie, could his husband handle it? It was one of the most common relationship killer for him, and had been one of the first things he mentioned when he first signed up for the show. Had they remembered to take it into account? 

"Good, good." Manuela's voice filled the room once more. "We can throw a voice over this, the audience will eat up that pensive staring out the window. Dimitri, are you ready?"

"Ready?" 

"To get married, silly. We're about to start."

It was time already? 

"Dimitri." Dedue's strong voice came from the doorway. He turned his gaze to Manuela, "May we have a moment?"

"Of course." She motioned for the camera to keep rolling and Dimitri sighed. Even with her out of the room, he needed to be camera ready. 

"Dimitri," Dedue said again as he pulled Dimitri into a tight embrace. How in his head was he if he hadn't noticed Dedue crossing the room? "Breathe."

"Aww, are you guys having a moment I wasn't invited to?" Sylvain appeared at his side as he pulled away from Dedue. Immediately, he pulled Dimitri into a hug of his own. "If this doesn't work, then I had nothing to do with it. If you fall madly in love, then you're welcome."

Dimitri chuckled and pulled away from the embrace. Lingering just out of reach stood Felix. He knew better than to try and hug his prickly friend, instead he nodded towards him. "Thank you all. I could not imagine doing this without your support."

"Not having a change of heart, are we?" Manuela's head peeked into the room. 

Dimitri forced a smile through his anxiety. "No. Let's go meet my future husband."

Manuela ushered him outside and into a covered golf cart. As they were driven up the hill to where he would get married, she double checked the microphone hidden in his Boutonniere. "Alright, so this venue is a tricky one since it's outside. There are two curtain boxes set up opposite each other. You will both step through them on cue and walk towards each other and meet in the middle at the altar. Got it?"

Dimitri nodded as the cart came to a stop. Manuela exited first then motioned for him to follow her. She pointed to where he should stand, and he strained his neck to catch a glimpse of anything before the white curtains blocked his view. A similar curtain was on the other side as she'd said. Chairs were set up for the few guests each brought with them, but were currently empty. 

As he stood behind the curtains, Dimitri strained to hear what was going on. He couldn't see the chairs or the altar, but after a few minutes the sounds of soft chatter floated to him. The altar was just beyond a thin fabric. His husband was just beyond thin fabric. 

Dimitri focused on his breathing. It was real. He was about to marry someone who's name he didn't know. While he thought he worked through his anxiety over it, he clearly had not. What did he do with his hands? What if he tripped as he walked to the altar? 

Before he could continue to spiral further, Manuela was signaling him to walk out. He hesitated. His friends were out there, his husband's friends were out there. His husband was out there. With a deep breath, Dimitri pushed the curtain aside and stepped out. 

He paid no attention to the people to his left, focused only on the man already standing across from him. Gorgeous did not do the man justice, and once Dimitri stepped out his face lit up, flashing Dimitri a wide smile. There was something familiar about him, something Dimitri couldn’t yet place as distracted as he was by the way his green eyes danced. 

His husband stepped forward, breaking the spell he put over Dimitri. When they met in the middle, between the altar and their friends, Dimitri thought it was too good to be true. 

Remembering himself, Dimitri smiled down and introduced himself. "H-hello, I am Dimitri."

"Whoa," the man said. "I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but it really is you." Dimitri's heart began to sink, afraid he was just another fanboy until he continued. "I'm Claude."

Oh- it clicked. Claude Von Riegan, lead singer of the band The Golden Deer. "This is really happening."

Claude smiled, "Yeah, it suuure is."

Dimitri wanted to talk to him, ask so many questions- touch him. But they were not alone up at the altar and a soft voice startled them both out of the moment they were sharing. "Welcome, everyone. I am Byleth, the officiant for this joyous occasion."

They paused to give Dimitri and Claude a moment to catch their bearings. Dimitri risked a glance to his friends, and was relieved to find them looking content. Annette gave him a thumbs up at the same time Sylvain wolf whistled. Claude's side was just as lively, and Dimitri recognized members of his band in the front row. 

Byleth continued, bringing their focus back to them. "We welcome Claude Von Riegan and Dimitri Blaiddyd-"

Dimitri couldn’t focus on their speech, too busy getting lost in Claude's eyes. He had enough sense about him to respond to the vows when prompted, and was endlessly glad they didn't have to write their own. 

"Now, I pronounce you married. You may now kiss your groom, forever sealing your union."

Dimitri was eager to do so, his nerves falling away when Claude's lips found his. He completely forgot about the cameras as he eagerly returned the kiss, and nearly groaned when Claude pulled away. 

Cheers rang out from their friends. He heard Sylvain's shout of, "Power couple!" over everyone else. 

They were ushered down the aisle, through their friends' congratulations and into another covered cart. Claude's hand found his as they were driven to where the reception was being held, and Dimitri squeezed it in silent answer. 

"Hey?" Claude looked at him, a smile tugging playfully at his lips.

"Yes?"

"We're married," Claude said, nudging his shoulder into Dimitri's. 

Dimitri leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on Claude's cheek. "Yes, we are." He brushed his knuckles along his husband's cheek before diving for his lips. 

He couldn't be happier with the outcome, and looked forward to getting to know his new husband, and starting their life together. 

Thanks for reading!!

[rightsockjin]

Summary: Jungkook is the best friend anyone could ask for. He’d been there for you through thick and thin, and right now, you were looking extra thick and his patience was thinning...

Rating:M

Genre: SMUT! A good amount of angst...

Warnings: Mutual mastrabation, porn, big dick JK. Best friend pining. Pillow riding. Butts. Blow job. Spit. Finger licking? Is that a warning? 

Word count: 4,906

Author’s note: this has nothing to do with his boots...

It's been years. Literal years. Years in which Jungkook had questioned what the nature of your relationship was. Never did he truly have the confidence or the strength to so much as toe the line between what you already had and something more.

You were laying down on his bed, your socked feet pushed up against the lowest section of the attic ceiling . Your toes were pointed and your heels tapped softly on the wall, your legs flush against it. Your butt was pushed up against the pillows on his bed. The comforter was slightly pulled from the edges. He’d be upset. Really, he would be upset since he had this weird OCD about the neatness of his bed but his mind was blank.

He leaned back against his gaming chair right across from it and in front of his desk. His laptop  was firmly closed. His heart rate must have been 100 beats per minute. His hands were sweaty and a little slick from the lotion.

It was safe to say that he hadn’t expected you that day. Given, you come over whenever you feel like, he had hoped-no prayed, that he would have a solid hour or so to himself. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see you, it was just that seeing you was the cause of the issue that he was trying to resolve.

He’d been taking you to the gym with him lately and he was really starting to see results. Especially in your thighs and your butt. Now, he had always thought you were attractive which was what had led him to question his feelings for you in the first place, but now he was getting hard ons far too often when you were around and he was running out of excuses to get away and rub one out.

It seemed that the pillow under your butt was getting uncomfortable because you started to shimmy it to the side. Finally, you pulled it out from under you and set it longways on your body. Without seeming to think much of the action, you wrapped your legs and arms around it and cuddled into the fabric that he’d freshly washed.

Your butt stuck out behind you, in perfect view of Jungkook whose erection was straining painfully against his jeans. His mind wandered back to what he had been watching before you had so rudely barged into his room. A film, of sorts, with two equally consenting adults but their faces were blurred. The woman had a fantastic ass so as he stared at yours, it wasn’t hard to put your face where her’s should have been.

He spread his legs farther to try to give the thing between his legs room to breathe but his jeans only strained over the rock hard rod. He needed to get you out of his room. He needed some relief.

“Hey,” he said, his voice cracking almost comically. He cleared his throat quickly, hoping you missed the sound but when your head snapped to look at him he knew you wouldn’t let it go.

“HeY,” you mimicked, rolling over to face him and onto your knees, your legs straddling his pillow as you sat back on your heels. The light from the attic window outlined you from behind, like a spotlight shining from almost directly behind as the sun began to set. He couldn’t help but scan your body in a position a little too sexual to be accidental. His eyes stopped on your torso. The white shirt that had been perfectly fine only seconds before now seemed extremely see through. In mock slow motion, you reached up and pushed your hair from one shoulder to the other. The shirt rode up slightly revealing what looked like thin black ribbons of fabric that wrapped around your ribs.

Jungkook’s dick pulsed where it was squished. He balled his hands into fists on the arms of his chair and forced himself not to react, though arousal thrummed through his body like a wildfire.

“Why are you such a bitch,” he groaned, channeling his arousal into annoyance as he’d recently taken to doing. It had the added plus side of making you so angry sometimes that you’d just leave him alone until he apologized which went hand in hand with when he’d finished himself off in the comfort of his own room.

“Geez, I’ve been here for five minutes and already you’re being rude.”

Jungkook groaned and rolled his eyes at you plastering a patronizing look on his face.

“Maybe it's because you came in and fucked up my sheets,” he said, waving his tattooed hand around you. You looked down, a small frown on your face as you saw the little tornado of blanket you had disturbed.

“It’s not that bad…”

Damn you. Damn you and your stupid cuteness. You shifted in your position, holding onto the pillow and spreading your legs wider in an attempt to smooth it out slightly. You probably didn’t mean it. Jungkook told this to himself over and over as you moved. From his perspective, it looked a little like you were humping the pillow. With your lip between your teeth and your brow furrowed in concentration, it wasn’t hard to imagine that you were instead pleasuring yourself before him.

Subconsciously, one of his hands slithered closer to his bulge. It was when he felt it on his thigh near his center that he froze and sat on both his hands instead. He could feel his underwear becoming wet with precum, a small wet spot appearing on his jeans.

“Just-just stop, Y/n! I’ll fix it later. I’m going to have to fucking do my laundry again…” he muttered more to himself than to you but you had clearly heard it, letting out a little hmph.

“Damn. You’ve been such a huge dick lately. I don’t know what your problem is but if you’re going to be exuding this much small dick energy, I don’t wanna be around you anymore.”

Jungkook glared at you. Your arms were now crossed over your bosom, pushing them closer together. A little bit of cleavage visible over the neck of your shirt. How could someone be equal parts infuriating and attractive?

“Well no one’s asking you to stay here! I didn’t even invite you over,” he said turning his chair around with his bare feet so he was looking at his shut laptop.

“When have I ever had to ask to see you?” You asked.

He had severely miscalculated his turn. He bumped his knee hard against one of the legs of the desk. His laptop bounced threateningly close to the edge but stopped just short of falling.

“I don’t know? Maybe you should start! You’re fucking rude sometimes!”

Jungkook didn’t dare look back. His heart had stopped suddenly. It was like he was seeing himself from another vantage point and that him was yelling at the present him to shut the fuck up.

There was a silence from your end as well. Like you couldn’t quite believe what he’d said to you. Sure, you guys cursed back and forward at each other before but it was never serious. It was always in good fun, but this time it seemed a little close to home.

“Fine,” you said suddenly, his bed creaked as you made your way off of it, “I’ll leave. I just fucking missed you since we hadn’t spent time together lately… guess you outgrew me too.”

Jungkook’s heart sank to his stomach. What had he just done? A light sweat broke out on his forehead.

Say something idiot!

“What do you mean ‘too’?”

You were by his bedroom door now. He could see you out of the corner of his eyes but he couldn’t force himself to look at you.

“You’ve changed JK…you used to love to sing, and your friends. You used to have a closet full of white shirts and hated being called oppa. You used to love banana milk and your Timbs… you used to love me…but I guess,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping and what looked like tears started to run down your cheeks, “like the rest of those things… you outgrew me as well.”

Your thin hand reached out to grasp the door knob but Jungkook chose then to act. He jolted off his chair not caring what he hit on the way, he was next to you in two steps.

“Wait Y/N-” but he was cut off by metallic thud and a loud drawn out female moan. All the blood in his body drained. His hand stayed perpetually frozen in the air between him and yourself. The tears on your cheeks ran freely but the shock on your face contradicted that emotion.

Neither of you moved. Another, rather loud moan filled the attic room. It bounced off the poster covered walls and seemed to bounce off the walls of his skull as well. Had he really been watching his ahem…films that loudly? How had you not heard it before you walked in?

“Fuck,” the video yelled and it was like someone had pressed play on both of you. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he rushed back to pick up the fallen computer. You hissed awkwardly looking at the wall to avoid eye contact.

Jungkook shut the computer faster than he thought was humanly possible. The sound cut off just as the woman was getting rammed from behind and her moans were cut coming out short and breathy.

It was when he had set the computer carelessly back on his desk that it hit him hard. You had just witnessed that. Where did you go from there?

He chuckled, because he didn’t know what else to do and the tension in the small room was starting to choke him and honestly that wasn’t one of his kinks so he needed to put an end to it.

“I interrupted you…didn’t I?” Your voice was soft and devoid of emotion. Jungkook chanced a glance at you, his hair covering his eyes slightly. If he pretended it was no big deal then maybe you would take the hint and make it no big deal as well.

“Yep.”

“Oh,” you said, ”Oh! Shit! I’m sorry! No wonder you were so pissy! I would be too if you came over in the middle of-” you clapped your hands over your mouth, your eyes wide and your cheeks red.

That was not a picture that Jungkook had even considered. But suddenly, it was all he could see. You, completely naked in your slightly messy room, your toes curling and uncurling as your fingers pumped in and out of your warm entrance. Your hair, cascaded on your pretty shoulders as your other hand pinched at your nipple. That enticing lip of yours between your teeth and little breathy moans coming out of your lips just like the ones he’d just heard.

His dick twitched again. He was unsuccessful this time in keeping his groan in his throat. It hung in the air between you like an invitation that he regretted sending instantly but he couldn’t take back. You turned slowly to face him.

“Did-did you just-”

“N-no! I didn’t! I-”

“You totally just-”

“Y/N!”

“What?” You asked forcefully, taking a step towards him.

“Please stop… this is humiliating enough without you pointing out that I-”

“Moaned at the thought of me masturbating?”

You’d said it. Somehow, he knew there was no going back. You had ventured past the metaphorical line together, maybe not in the way he’d wanted but here was the chance he’d been looking for. He either pushed you away indefinitely, or took the chance to see if you could do something more with the foundation you had built together.

“Okay fine, so it turned me on a little. So what? I’m a guy! Do you forget or something?”

You blinked at him, biting your lip and furrowing your eyebrows. A shock of arousal burst through him at the sight.

“Can you please stop doing that? You’re making it really hard to keep my hormones under control,” he begged looking up at the ceiling. The light in the room had significantly dimmed. It was making it difficult for him to see you properly.

“What if I want it to be hard,” you whispered so softly he wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly.

“What if you- if you…wait what?” He needed to hear you say it again. He needed to be sure he didn’t hear you incorrectly.

“What if,” you took a deep breath, “what if I want to make it hard for you to keep your hormones at bay?”

Jungkook.exe has stopped working. Error #6969. Recalibrating.

His mouth hung open. The gears in his brain had ground to a stop. There was no way he had heard what he thought he’d heard.

You looked at him expectantly. Hope in your wide eyes. Jungkook swallowed loudly, clicking his mouth shut.

Drooling isn’t attractive.

He scrambled around for some words to say back to you. Anything to say to you that expressed what he was feeling. Maybe a ‘hell yeah’ or a simple ‘okay’. But he couldn’t make his mouth move. His penis pressed against his jeans painfully.

“P-pardon?”

Nope. Not the optimal thing to say. Not even a little close to what he wanted to say. You were right. He was exuding small dick energy and you were projecting the complete opposite.

“You know what? Never mind… let’s just pretend that I didn’t say that and I’ll leave you alone to sort yourself out,” you mumbled under your breath reaching for the door knob again, but this time Jungkook was much quicker and there was no laptop to distract him. He clasped his hand over your wrist before you could turn the knob.

You snapped your head to look at him, the blush still prominent on your cheeks as you looked up at him. There was fear and embarrassment in your pretty eyes. Jungkook didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Wait! Uh… what if I told you that it’s been hard?”

It was your turn to look confused. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow relaxing your body slightly.

“What’s been hard?”

With an embarrassed hiss Jungkook said, “It’s been hard… my um…you know?”

You searched his face as if you could read his emotions and thoughts on it like a book. After a couple of seconds of tense silence, the muscles in your face relaxed and your confidence seemed to rise.

“Oh…really?” Jungkook nodded without hesitation. The fact that you hadn’t run screaming spurred him on, hoping that if he was honest he could maybe get somewhere with you, even if it was short term.

“Do you…would you want some help? With that?”

Your eyes were focused on his own but it felt like you could see right through him. The sun had fully set and the only light was coming from the stars and the moon outside the attic window. He was grateful, really. It did a good job of hiding his major dorkiness.

“You…you want to help?”

You hummed, a sound so low and even that It sent shivers down his spine. Just the thought of seeing you naked was enough to have him twitching like crazy.

“Yeah… Why watch porn on a screen when you could watch IRL right?”

Jungkook.exe has stopped working again. Error #6970. Rebooting system in progress. Were you really offering-

“I mean… you could do it as well! We could both… and you can tell me what to do if that’s what you’re into? Or we could just watch each other -hmph-” Jungkook slammed an open palm against the wall effectively pinning you between his toned body and it.

His breath was warm against your cheek. His chest was barely grazing your own. A jolt of fear and arousal hit you hard as you looked up at your best friend of many years. If someone had told you days ago that you would be propositioning Jungkook the way you were now, you would have laughed in their face. But that was then and this was now, and now you knew much more information than you did then.

“It’s the least you can do,” he whispered against your ear, “you did ruin my sheets. Give me a good reason to have to wash them.”

You looked back and forward between his eyes, searching for any hesitance. When you found none and he put his hand down, gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles, you realized that this was actually happening in real time and not in one of your many daydreams.

Jungkook nuzzled his lips on the shell of your ear before he sucked the lobe into his mouth. He nibbled lightly, pressing his lower body against yours. You could feel his erection against the lower part of your stomach. You gasped. It felt big. Really big and unbelievably hard.

His big hand found your waist easily. He held you against the wall and gingerly ground his hips into you. He let out a shaky exhale against your neck. One hand traveled up your torso. He could feel the thin ribbons he had seen earlier under his fingertips. He traced them softly. Inevitably, they lead him to your clothed chest. It didn’t take long for him to realize that you weren’t exactly wearing a proper bra as your nipples were already poking out of the thin fabric of both your shirt and bralette.

Jungkook ran a thumb over the sensitive bud. It was feather light but it ignited the fire that had been steadily burning over the last couple of minutes. You gasped softly as he did it once more and nibbled at your pulse point. His breath was hitting your neck, his hips still rotating sensually on your lower belly.

When you didn’t touch him back, Jungkook panicked. Had he gone too far? He stopped his hand at your chest and pulled away from your neck. A bit of worry was evident on his face.

“Is…is this okay?”

You nodded quickly, not wanting him to stop. He smiled brightly, clear excitement in his expression, then pulled away from you entirely. You tried to hold back your disappointment as you watched him back away.

“Hey we’re not done yet,” he assured, his teeth on display, “I’m just taking you up on your offer.” He shrugged as he lowered himself back on his desk chair. His legs were spread wide, his feet firmly planted. He was slouched against the back of it with an expectant look. Slowly, he unzipped his pants and slid them part of the way down.

Even in this darkness, you could see the enormous bulge in his underpants. Your mouth salivated, something primal awakening at the sight. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to eat him alive, but you didn’t move, still a little confused as to what you were supposed to do.

Jungkook palmed himself over the fabric. His face screwed up into a slightly pained expression. Like even this much stimulation was too much.

You swallowed thickly as you watched his head loll to the side. He was sexier than in your dreams. Sexier than you could have even imagined.

“Well?” he asked, looking at you through lidded eyes, “Get comfortable on my bed babe.”

As if you were in a trance, you walked over back to the bed and sat on the edge trying to think of what to do to entice him. You had pictured this moment so many times, but in every single one, he was on top of you or touching you in some way. You had never thought about him wanting to watch you touch yourself.

In a spurt of confidence, you pulled off your shirt revealing the infamous, barely there, black bralette. You rolled your shoulders back and pushed your chest out so he could better admire it and you weren’t disappointed. Jungkook’s mouth fell open at the sight. A quiet fuck escaped his lips and his hand tightened around his bulge.

“You like?” you asked cheekily with a wink.

“Duh,” he answered rolling his eyes, “Take off the sweat pants.”

You raised your eyebrows at him but did as he asked. Still, this was your best friend, you couldn’t help but be a bit bratty.

“Damn you’re so bossy. I’m doing you a favor JK.”

Jungkook laughed at that, pushing his pants fully off of him as he watched you strip yours.

“Annoying as always. Why did I think you would change that in the bedroom?”

“You love it,” you argued, spreading your legs wide, finally free of your pants. The black, silk underwear you were wearing on full display. You set your hands on your knees to keep your legs spread. The light of the stars seemed to catch every curve and edge of your partially exposed body. You smirked as you looked at your best friend. He was manspreading, his chest rising and falling quickly, like he’d just finished working out.

“I can’t argue with that…” he said blinking rapidly as if you would disappear after he closed his eyes, “Take off your bra.”

“Hell no. I’m more naked than you are, take off your shirt Jeon,” you argued, snapping the edge of your underwear to your skin as a punctuation.

“Hey! You said I could tell you what to do,” he groaned already reaching for the edge of his shirt.

“I changed my mind. If you’re not going to be fair then I’m calling the shots.”

“Whatever,” he groaned, his abs out in the open, but he didn’t stop there. In one fluid motion, he yanked off his underwear. His dick sprung up against his stomach, long and thick. Even in the blue tinted darkness, you could see how angry the tip looked.

“Happy now?” He asked wrapping his hand around his penis and giving it a solid tug that made him screw up his face again, “your turn.”

You said nothing, instead, you pulled down one of the black cups of your bra so your boob hung out in the open for him to see. Then, with not nearly as much grace as him, you tugged your underwear off and sat back farther on the bed.

“Damn,” Jungkook whispered, “you’re so…” he paused looking kind of embarrassed, “beautiful.”

You blushed, not at all expecting him to give you such a genuine compliment based on what you were doing right then, but you took it nonetheless and smiled.

“Hey,” he said before you could thank him, “do you think you could, uh… ride my pillow?”

You blinked at him, then looked at the pillow behind you that you had been cuddling earlier. Jungkook was anal about his pillows being clean so this request really took you by surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah… please?”

“Okay,” you agreed but you only moved the pillow closer to you and hiked a leg up on his mattress. Your lips were spread enticingly and you curved a finger so he could come closer. Jungkook did as you asked, his hand wrapped firmly around his member and stroking it. He stopped a couple of inches short of his bed, his eyes fixated on your core.

With one finger, you traced from your opening up to your clit. The coldness of your own hand sent a shiver up your spine. You whimpered, doing it again but with two fingers, collecting your arousal. Jungkook watched, enraptured by what was between your legs. The scent of you making him twitch uncomfortably.

“Wanna taste?” you asked him holding your fingers out in front of his lips. His eyes widened and he nodded leaning in quickly and taking your fingers in his mouth. His tongue worked to collect all of your juices. It felt heavenly. You could already imagine what it would be like to have his mouth between your legs, but that was a venture for another time.

When he had finished, you pulled your fingers back and onto your core. With his saliva coating your digits, it wasn’t hard to slip them into your heat. Your walls fluttered around them as you pumped in time to his hand around his shaft.

You let little mewls escape past your lips as Jungkook moaned at the sight. With your other hand, you began to rub at your clit. A shock of pure pleasure nestled in your stomach. You drew tight little circles around it. Your legs twitched with impatience.

“Ngh… Jungkook,” you moaned letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook’s hand sped up on his erection. The sound of his fist on it turned you on a little.

“Fuck, Y/N… can I ask you a favor?”

You stopped your fingers on your core and looked up at him. He looked down at his sex then back at you awkwardly gesturing at it.

“Could you…maybe get it a little wet?”

“Yeah,” you said enthusiastically, pulling your fingers from your entrance and changing your position. You pushed the pillow between your legs and spread your lips apart so the fabric was nuzzled right against your sensitive bits. Then, slowly you pressed your wet fingers to his lips again and whispered, “suck.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jungkook half joked but the thrill it sent through you was nothing to laugh at. He took your hand in his own and put your fingers back in his mouth. You leaned down over his member and began to fervently lick around it, using your other hand to stroke your spit into his skin. He tasted vaguely of baby powder and lotion which you assumed was what he was using to masturbate before.

You gave his tip a couple of good generous licks before you sucked at his slits. His precum was salty against your tongue and he casually bucked his hips up into you but you held him down. His lips on your hand stuttered and fell open.

You pulled your fingers from his lips and you used both hands to hold him down as you greedily sucked. Loud, prolonged moans came frequently from Jungkook. Maybe it was because he was so worked up but you could already feel his dick twitching like crazy. Slowly, you began to build your own pleasure with the pillow between your legs, rubbing your soaking slits on it back and forward. The pleasure made you moan around him which made him groan and choke on the sound.

Suddenly, you felt his hand on your back, traveling lower until it was on your ass. He squeezed it slightly, jiggling it and pushing you forward on the pillow. You pushed back against him sending another shock of pleasure directly to your clit. His other hand found its way to your chest. His finger tweaking your sensitive, exposed nipple and rubbing circles on the areola.

You took a bit more of his erection in your mouth, spit dribbled down yours lips and onto him. You did your best to slurp it up, lewd noises floated around you both. Jungkook’s melodic moans filling the room like music.

You found yourself close to the edge faster than you anticipated. Jungkook continued to aid you in your pleasure, bucking his hips slightly as you sucked him off with care. You ran your fingers over his toned abs, abs that you had wanted to lick since the day you saw them and the thought alone pushed you so close it was painful.

“Fuck Y/N… I love you…” That did it. Your walls clenched around nothing, blood pumped into your clit at an alarming speed, your mouth fell open, wide around his cock and it fell straight into the back of your throat setting off your gag reflex. You moaned erotically against him. The pleasure filled your every nerve as Jungkook gasped and twitched then stilled.

Ropes of hot cum hit your tongue, some making it into your throat, some spilling onto his pelvis as he orgasmed. You both came down from your high, nearly together. With his dick still in your mouth, you slurped at the remaining cum around him.

He hissed and tried to push your head off of him but you didn’t stop until you had licked it all up. When you pulled away and sat up so you could see him, his words sunk in. Jungkook loved you? As more than just a friend?

It seemed that it had just dawned on Jungkook what he had let slip as well. His cheeks darkened in the faint light of the moon and he couldn’t look at you. There you both sat, almost entirely naked, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pillow soiled with your orgasmic juices and the words hung out like an invitation that he’d regretted sending but couldn’t take back.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

Fireworks erupted all over Jungkook’s chest, his lips pulled up into his bunny like smile, his toned chest rose and fell with the quick pace of his heart. The explosion was so powerful that fireworks didn’t even seem like the right word for what he was feeling as he lunged forward and sandwiched your lips between his.

No, not fireworks. It was something more like Dynamite.

Read the rest here!

Part 2

[zimms]

do you know that reddit post that's like "i'm in quarantine with my roommate (we're both dudes) and we've been cuddling together a lot. am i gay?" because at least to me it has big olliewicks vibes

hey dude! i’m sorry this is so late, but hopefully you’ll like it! 

Ollie groggily awakens to the feeling of two strong arms wrapped around his stomach, holding him close and grounding him. He lets out a sigh of contentment before squeezing his eyes shut and burrowing his head slightly further into the tangle of bodies, pursuing the warm heat of the other person. The body beneath him shifts slightly, emitting a slight groan and disturbing Ollie’s brief peace. That’s when he realises three things.

They’re in the middle of a pandemic.

His only human contact in the past two months, other than cashiers at their local grocery store, has been Wicky.

The person beneath him is definitely Wicky. Ollie can feel it in every plane, every angle, every curve of the body he’s laying on top of. It’s in the way that Wicky’s breathing slightly stutters after every inhale. He knows it’s Wicky because every inch of Wicky’s body is unique and Ollie’s memorised all of them. So yeah, definitely Wicky.

Ollie takes a moment to just breathe and catalogue the situation. He cracks an eye open and he immediately heaves a sigh of relief; they’re both wearing clothes, which means that they didn’t do anything that either of them might regret. Well, or at least, nothing that Ollie might regret; he can’t speak for whether or not Wicky might regret even cuddling him, let alone anything else. 

He cranes his neck slightly to catch sight of the TV, where the Netflix Are you still watching? screen stares back at him. Oh yeah, they’d been watching Tiger King together on the couch before they’d fallen asleep on top of each other. 

Ollie braces his hands on either side of Wicky and slowly rolls off of his best friend, careful not to land on the squeaky couch spring and wake him up. He slides slowly to the floor and places his head in his hands. 

Fuck. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and groans as quietly as he can into his palms. He’s been doing so well at tamping down his crush on Wicky up until now, but something inside of Ollie has ignited after spending the night in such close proximity to him. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to pretend when Wicky wakes up that he didn’t savour every moment that his skin was pressed against Wicky’s, that he doesn’t know exactly what Wicky looks like when he’s sound asleep, that he hasn’t memorised the way their chests rose and fell against each other in perfect synchrony.

Ollie shakes his head before pushing himself to his feet and padding into the kitchen to get breakfast. That’s enough thinking for today.

----

Ollie shifts his weight from side to side as he leans outside of George’s office and listens to the sound of chairs scraping behind the door. Thank fuck, they’re almost done; he’s been leaning against this wall for twenty goddamn minutes and his feet are aching. He straightens up as the door swings open and he plasters a grin on his face; no matter how annoying a long wait is, scowling probably isn’t the best first impression when you’re meeting your new employer. 

However, Ollie’s grin disintegrates when he sees the guy that comes out of the office and instead his mouth drops open. 

Holy fuck. 

Ollie unashamedly stares at the guy as he ambles down the corridor. God, every inch of him is pure perfection. From cheekbones that could cut glass, to wide brown eyes that seem to reflect and emit light until the whole corridor illuminates with this guy’s presence. From the lopsided grin that plays across his face, to the biceps that are way too big for the sleeves of his Falcs t-shirt. Ollie lets his eye’s slide to the guy’s ass; yeah, that’s definitely a hockey player. 

He’s stunning.

And, the little voice in the back of Ollie’s mind pipes up, a teammate.

Ollie slumps down the wall again and groans. He’s so fucked. 

----

Ollie had hoped that he’d be able to avoid all thoughts of his crush on Wicky for a while, well, preferably forever. He’s always been so careful to never let their cellies on the ice go too far, never letting Wicky kiss him on the helmet like he does every other player, never letting their hugs last for too long, never actively seeking out physical affection from him other than quick bro hugs and a slap on the back. 

The universe has other plans for him apparently.

That one night of couch cuddling seems to have opened the floodgates, because all of a sudden Ollie’s inundated by a tidal wave of physical affection from Wicky and it’s just becoming too difficult. Too difficult to ignore the onslaught of butterflies in his stomach when their hands brush slightly when they’re reaching for the salt at the dinner table. Too difficult not to stare at him when they’re watching a movie next to each other on the couch and he shifts over slightly so that their legs are touching. Too difficult to even begin to process and cope with the fact that Wicky has started coming into Ollie’s room to fucking cuddle with him. It’s too difficult because Ollie is finally allowing himself to hope and he doesn’t even fucking know if Pacer, Wicky, Pace, is anything other than straight. 

It’s just too goddamn difficult to be around his best friend. 

Ollie smiles down at where Pacer has tucked himself underneath his right arm, eyes softly shut and a peaceful smile playing across his face, and he feels his heart breaking. If he wants to preserve their friendship beyond this quarantine in any way shape or form, he needs to stop indulging himself like this. What if Pacer’s angry because Ollie’s taken advantage of him because Ollie’s using this- this thing between them to selfishly fulfill his own wants? What if Pacer’s only comfortable doing this because he thinks Ollie’s straight? What if-

Ollie squeezes his eyes shut and curls his hand into the sleeve of Pacer’s shirt, forcing that line of thought to come screeching to a halt before it becomes a trainwreck. He needs to stop thinking like that; Pacer’s not gonna abandon him after three years of friendship and being lineys because of some no homo, bro bullshit. Or at least, Ollie hopes he wouldn’t. Pacer’s not that kind of person. 

(Aww, fuck. He also needs to stop referring to him as Pacer in his head. He needs to distance himself from Wicky somehow, and he’s definitely not going to pull away from him physically, especially as they’re each the other’s only source of human contact for the next month or nine, so emotional distancing will have to do.)

He heaves a sigh and lets himself slump against the headboard, careful to make sure that Wicky’s head doesn’t fall too quickly from where it’s leant against Ollie’s shoulder. Wicky stirs at the sudden movement  and his eyes slowly open, a sleepy beam playing across his face and chestnut eyes staring intently at Ollie like he’s the moon gazing upon the sun. 

Ollie muffles a groan. He just doesn’t know what to think anymore. 

----

The second that Ollie and Pacer Wicks step onto the ice together for the first time it feels electric. They complement each other in every way; Pacer skates slightly faster than Ollie does, whilst Ollie has a slightly more accurate pass that finds Pacer every single time. It’s like they were made for each other. 

It’s fantastic.

(It’s torturous.)

Ollie finds himself spending even more time with Wicky than he originally planned for, and things just keep going from good to great. 

(They go from bad to worse)

They have the same taste in films to the extent that they now have a monthly The Princess Bride rewatch. They’re both cat people and it’s slipped into their pre-game routine to go for a walk together, looking for the neighbourhood cats and calling pspspspsp to them in the hopes that they’ll come running and grant them good luck before the game. They’ve won every game that they’ve stroked a cat before, so Ollie isn’t really inclined to let go of the superstition, and, judging by the way Wicky grins at the little fuzzballs, Wicky is equally reluctant to stop their pre-game walks. The best thing they have in common is that both of their leases are up at the end of this month; who’s Ollie to pass up the opportunity to live with the guy that’s rapidly becoming the most important person in his life?

(Ollie’s an absolute fool. Living with Wicky is going to kill him very slowly and definitely isn’t the way to rid himself of a crush that’s quickly morphing into something even more serious. 

Ollie is, once again, fucked.)

----

Ollie tries to pull away slowly rather than withdrawing all physical affection at once. It’s painful, but if it keeps Wicky from hating him, Ollie will gladly do it. Heck, if it was to protect Wicky, Ollie would do anything. 

He starts slowly. He shifts over a bit on the couch, leaving a deliberate gap between them on the couch, so that no wandering limbs can reach out for each other. He makes sure to hold out the condiments at dinner, so that there’s no way for either of them to find an excuse for their fingers to touch, no matter how much Ollie hungers for it. He starts spending more time in his room, doing his online college courses there, rather than in the living room like he usually does. He goes to bed earlier, hoping, wishing, praying that Wicks doesn’t try to join him for a cuddle. 

(Ollie ignores the little voice in the back of his mind that’s screaming to feel the press of Wicky’s warm body against his again. He ignores the wounded glances that he receives from Wicky every time he avoids eye contact. He ignores the aching pangs inside of his chest that appear whenever he spends too long gazing at Ollie.)

----

Moving in together is the best idea and the worst idea that Ollie’s ever gone along with.

Pros: He gets to spend every day with Wicky.

Cons: Spending every day with Wicky might actually kill him soon. RIP Oliver O’Meara. Cause of Death: Walking into the kitchen and seeing Wicky topless and sleep rumpled, muscles rippling as he reaches for the coffee. 

Pros: He knows Wicky almost as well as he knows himself.

Cons: He now knows that Wicky is hung up on someone after one particularly drunken ramble.

(Fuck.)

----

It’s a week after the first cuddling incident that Wicky pulls open the door to Ollie’s room and marches in, eyebrows lowered and eyebags darker than ever. Ollie immediately slams the lid of his laptop shut, straightening up from where he’s slumped against the headboard of his bed. He frowns. “What’s up, Wicky?”

Wicky freezes on the other side of the room. “What’s up?” he says, voice cracking and strangled. Yikes, this must be worse than Ollie thought it was. “You’re asking me what’s up?” He drops onto the bed, like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river. “You’re the one that’s disappeared recently.” He pushes the heels of hands into his eyes. “We used to do everything together and now whenever I look for you, you’re in here.” He tears his hands away from his face, to gesture frantically around the room. Wicky appears to be manic; his hair’s all ruffled and there’s this slightly crazed look in his eyes. “What did I do, Ol?”

Ollie scrambles out of bed to come and sit next to Wicky. He stretches out a hand to comfort Wicky, but withdraws it as he fumbles for what to do or say. “You didn’t do anything, Pace,” he says softly, resisting the urge to reach out and swipe away the tears that are trickling intermittently down his cheeks. “It’s me that’s the problem.”

Wicky raises an eyebrow at him, stare stern in spite of the crying. “Really? So you’re completely fine with me cuddling you? And definitely didn’t start shutting down any of my attempts to spend time with you?” Ollie flinches and Wicky scoffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I-” Ollie trails off, eyes wandering until his gaze meets Wicky’s. The look in Wicky’s eyes isn’t scornful, no matter how much it deserves to be, instead his eyes are calm and fathomless like the earth after a long-anticipated rain. “I didn’t want to hurt you, though I clearly failed in that respect. I’m just so worried that you’re going to think less of me, especially once I tell you that-” Ollie clamps his mouth shut, as words he’s barely even thought to himself start to tumble out into the open.

“Tell me that..?” If Ollie didn’t know any better, he’d think that there was a trace of hope in Wicky’s voice. “C’mon, Ol, I’m not gonna leave you, no matter what you say.”

Ollie rubs his hand across his eyelids before stuttering out, “I’m in love with you.” Shit, that is not what he meant to say. “Fuck, I mean, I like you. Romantically.” He hides his face in his hands. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I figured going cold turkey for a couple of days might do me some good.” He pulls his hands from his face suddenly and lets them drop to his knees. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I like you? That I might be, fuck it, I am in love with you?”

The silence in the room answers that question for him and Ollie feels a tear roll down his face and a gutteral sob tear its way from his throat. 

“Fuck, Ol,” Pacer says, scrubbing a weary hand across his face, and that’s when Ollie knows that it’s all over, that he’s going to be rejected by the most important person in his life. “That’s definitely not what I was expecting, but it’s not unwelcome by any means.”

It’s not?

Ollie suppresses a sniffle as he voices this sentiment aloud. 

Pacer laughs, honest to God, laughs. “It’s actually very welcome, considering the fact that I’ve been pining for you since long before you got traded to Providence.”

He’s what-?

“I-” Ollie stumbles over the words, cheeks heating, “but you’re straight? And you’re hung up on someone?”

Pacer swipes a thumb across Ollie’s cheek, tracing the trail of his blush. “Ol, when did I ever say I was straight?” he asks, his gaze intently focused on Ollie. “Anyway, it’s always been you.” He leans in closer, breathing out one final word before sealing their lips together. “Always.”