#several voice actors have already said don’t do this

[eternalglitch]

A reminder that “character covers” of songs created by sampling the voice actor’s actual lines are still essentially ai and are stealing from the original voice actors. Please respect the actors. There are currently huge strikes going on in Hollywood not in small part because Hollywood refuses to agree that they will not use ai of the actors and writers work, which includes similar situations like voice work.

If you want to play with making a character sing songs, I recommend looking into Vocaloid! All voice banks are already created AND the actors fully consented to their voices being used like this.

[jayteacups]

It's A Wrap!

Working on Attack on Titan as a makeup artist has irreversibly changed your life. As the end rapidly approaches, you find that letting go is harder than you’d thought. After years of harbouring feelings for Levi that you can’t divulge, his final day on set arrives. You know it’s time to say goodbye to him and part ways—but maybe you don’t have to. 

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader 

Tags & warnings: Actor!Levi, Makeup artist!Reader, fluff, confessions, friends/idiots to lovers, alcohol consumption, briefly implied sexual content, AOT finale spoilers

Word count: 6.9k words

A/N: I’m back, happy Levi month everyone! I wrote this over the last month to cope with the fact AOT was ending and also life stuff. This is incredibly self indulgent, also I would love to tell more stories and scenarios in this AU, so this probably won’t be the last one-shot I write for actor!Levi and MUA!Reader hehehe. Disclaimer that I don't work in film or TV or makeup, sorry if there are any inaccuracies. Also please forgive me for the uncreative title, lol. Hope you enjoy the fic!

Levi’s last day on set is bittersweet. 

For the final time, you lean against the wall and count down the seconds on your watch. The trailer door swings open to reveal the man of the hour. On par for the course, Levi arrives fifteen minutes on the dot before his scheduled arrival time. He’s holding his usual steaming flask of tea in one hand, with a nondescript rucksack (save for a Badtz-Maru keychain gifted to him from the Sanrio collaboration) slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” you greet him, pushing off from the wall, moving towards him like a moth to flame. He sets down his things in the sitting area and meets you halfway, letting you pull him into your arms. After years of working alongside each other, you’ve both grown accustomed to greeting each other like this in private, especially after the stress the two of you had put yourselves under during the Season 3 shoots. 

“How are you feeling? It’s your last day.” You ask him as the two of you part. To your dismay, you’re already missing the warmth of his embrace. 

“I’m fine. I’m not going to get all sappy about it.” His face is placid.

“That’s what Hange said when they filmed their death scene, and we saw how that ended,” you say lightheartedly. Hange had sworn to remain jovial and upbeat throughout their last day, but after seeing the several other actors cry at their phenomenal acting, they had promptly broken down. “And I bet you anything that Eren’s going to say that when he and Mikasa do the cabin scene next week, and we all know he’ll be the first to start crying and the last to stop.” 

Levi rolls his eyes before he enters the wardrobe area, but you know he’s not serious. “If you think I’m going to break down in tears like Hange and the kids did, you’re dead wrong,” he continues, out of sight. 

You smile. “Sure. It’s alright, you know, if you do end up crying. It’s an end of an era, we’re all going to get emotional.” 

A few moments later, Levi emerges in costume, sans the bandages. He sits down in front of the mirror at the vanity table. “Yes, but I’m satisfied with what I’ve done here, and I have no regrets,” he muses out loud, continuing on from before. “And it’s not like I’m done with the show. There’s the wrap party, then the press tour and all that. So don’t expect me to get all worked up today. I’m not saying goodbye to Attack on Titan just yet.” His voice softens towards the end. 

But it is goodbye for us, you wish to say. And I don’t want it to be. You haven’t been contracted for any of their press events. After you finish with Attack on Titan, you’ll have a handful of weeks before your upcoming contract for a new show begins. It’s a wonderful opportunity; the show is airing on a major streaming service and requires you to push your SFX skills to the limit. Sasha had been cast in one of the main roles and both Onyankopon and Nifa will make appearances too, so you’ll see some familiar faces on this new project. But selfishly, you aren’t ready to let go and move forward. Selfishly, you aren’t ready to part ways with Levi. 

Sure, the two of you will make an effort to talk every now and then. You know him far better than to assume he’ll stop talking to you the moment Attack on Titan is finished; despite him being standoffish at first, it’s clear Levi cares deeply about everybody he’s ever worked with, cast or crew alike. But the chances of your demanding schedules ever lining up again are close to zero, and sooner or later, your frequent messages will fizzle out into a conversation lost to the ages. You’ll drift, until the two of you are strangers once more. It’s inevitable; you’ve seen it happen before with your actor friends from old projects. No doubt it’ll happen again. 

You consider addressing the elephant in the room, wondering if it lingers on his mind, too. But instead, you hum in agreement and pass him a headband to hold his hair out of the way. He puts it on, clearly content to not bring it up just yet. 

Levi chews on the inside of his cheek as you sort out your equipment on the vanity table. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his lips, which are a little more chapped than usual. It’s clear there is something else that’s bothering him, but you decide to let it go for now. Sometimes Levi just needs to sit with his thoughts for a moment. You’ve learned that being pushed just makes him close himself off even more. A life in the limelight can be unforgiving. Kuchel Ackerman had been the brightest star of her generation, but behind the scenes, her personal life was far from glamorous. It doesn’t surprise you that her son keeps his heart and feelings well-guarded. 

As he sits and stews, you apply chapstick and some basic ‘barely-there’ makeup on his face, before creating the illusion of a hard-fought battle by adding a light layer of grime to his face. You’ll add more after the scar and bandages. As you work, Levi takes out a folder from his bag, which is embellished with a small cat sticker that Hange had stuck on years ago. From it, he takes his copy of the script, nary a crease in the sheets. Brow furrowed, he reads it over and over, mouthing his lines with the fervour of a prayer. 

Now, that is odd. 

“There is something on your mind, isn’t there?” You’ve also read the script for today’s scene. The director had decided to save Levi’s most poignant scene—where his character salutes the ghosts of his fallen comrades—for the very end of his shoot. (Levi’s epilogue scene had been shot a week prior.) This would be his most challenging scene yet, for it would be the first time he and his character will ever cry on screen. “You can tell me if you want. Anything you need to help you focus. There’s still time.” You give him a quick squeeze on his shoulder. 

Stormy eyes glance up at his reflection, than up at yours. He puts down the script and sighs, voice subdued. “I just want to do the Captain’s ending justice, and I don’t think I can.” 

“I think you can,” you murmur. You gesture for him to close his eyes, and pick up your finest brush. Willing your hand and heart into steadiness, you bring the brush up to his forehead, where the largest scar begins. You’ll never get used to how infuriatingly gorgeous he is. “No. I know you can. There is no doubting just how much you care about portraying him correctly.” 

He swallows. “Well, I’ve never cried on camera before.” He stops, giving you a moment to work. 

With the utmost care, you begin to draw the main line of the largest scar, the one that passes through his eye and lips. As the brush passes over his eyelid, it twitches ever so slightly, his long lashes tickling your hand. Smiling, you brush away a stray lash that had fallen onto his cheek. As you extend the line down his cheek, you try to reassure him. Levi’s usually so steadfast, but it makes sense that something like this would grow heavy on his mind. 

“You’ve been practicing it with your coach, though, right? I mean, I’ve had to cover up your swollen eyes a number of times this season.” 

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The brush reaches his lips. He opens his eyes, looking up at you through lowered lashes. Your heart aflutter, you staunchly ignore any and all thoughts of kissing him. Doing so has become more and more difficult with every passing day. Especially when every now and then, you think you see him glancing down at your lips whenever you lean in close to examine a detail of your work. 

It’s more than likely that you’re imagining it, though. 

Finally, the brush reaches his chin, finishing the outline of the first scar. You lean back to admire your work. After many instances of painstakingly painting on the scars and agonising over continuity, you don’t have to look at your old reference pictures to know the exact shape and curve of them, down to the millimetre. But you do so anyway, and smile in satisfaction when you compare today’s line to the pictures from the first time you drew them on him for practice. A perfect match. 

“I know you’ve been working hard at it,” you continue assuring him, putting down the reference photos. “You’ve definitely come a long way.” 

“Yeah, but I’m shit at it, actually. All those times we joked about how Eren would take forever to conjure a single tear every time he needed to cry, and now here I am in the exact same position. He’s going to rub this in my face should he ever find out.” He chews the inside of his cheek again, looking down. “Damn it. Don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m not… I don’t get nervous. I don’t show up to work feeling unprepared. That isn’t me. But today, it is.” 

It’s unsettling, to see him so unsure of himself. His nerves are understandable, as he came into the show with more of a stuntman background and little actual acting experience. But anybody who’s worked alongside him could easily tell you just how dedicated he is to improving his craft, and that nobody else could play the Captain with the same quiet subtleties that Levi brings to the screen. 

You hope your smile is somewhat reassuring to him. “And that’s okay. You know, crying on command really isn’t easy. I’ve worked with countless actors and many also find it difficult.” In your experience, most actors need a while to work themselves up to cry. The most obvious exception is Armin, who has the unnerving ability to turn it on and off like a light switch. “For you, all you need to do is make one tear out of one eye. You’ve managed to do that before, right?” 

He nods, but the firm clench of his jaw and the crease between his brows don’t fade.

“So, it’s nothing that you haven’t practiced. And on the off chance that you can’t do it today, that’s perfectly fine. I have eyedrops in my bag.” 

“Yeah, but…” He shakes his head in frustration. “This is going to sound dumb, but it… I don’t know, that feels like cheating. I know you’re thinking I’m being an idiot, and I probably am. I know eyedrops are common practice. It’s just… This is my character’s last moment before the epilogue, and I want it to be real. I don’t want to take the easy way out.” 

“No, it’s not stupid. There’s no shame in needing to use eyedrops if you end up not being able to cry today, but it’s really admirable that you want to do it as authentically as possible. I think that since this is your final scene, and so many people are returning this morning, it’ll be easier than usual to muster up those tears.” Reaching for a set of different brushes and paint, you instruct him, “here’s what we’re going to do. I need you to just listen whilst I do the rest of your scars. I don’t want you to get trapped in your head about this, okay? Overthinking will just make it harder to get into character. Isn’t that what you said to Mikasa all those years back? It worked wonders for her. I often forget that this show was her first ever gig, with how good she’s become.” 

He scoffs. “Really? You’re using my own words against me?”

“Well, what use is your own advice if you can’t follow it yourself?” 

After a moment of hesitation, Levi sighs in defeat and closes his eyes again. “Shit, you’re relentless. Fine, then. I’ll trust you.” 

You get to work, drawing the outlines of the second scar parallel to the first, then the smaller ones on his other cheek. As you add in the details, such as the texture of the stitches, you remind Levi of another story that he himself told you. He’d never worked with horses before being cast in this show, and yet was one of the quickest learners. Unsurprisingly so, since he’s incredibly kinaesthetically intelligent. To this day, the cast insists he looks the most at ease atop a horse, only second to Erwin, who actually used to ride in his childhood. You remind him that every single time, his hard work has more than paid off.

Somewhere down the line, you go off topic. Levi makes no move to stop you. In fact, he seems content just to listen to you talk about anything, everything. As the wounds take shape on his face, you reminisce on anecdotes from set, on the time the two of you spent together. With fondness, you recall your first meeting. Back then, you were an lowly assistant on the SFX team, transforming an unassuming man into the wounded soldier who, in his dying moments, listened to the Captain’s vow to eradicate the titans and bring meaning to his sacrifice. You talk about how the two of you grew closer during the filming of the second season, when Levi had a lot more free time to talk. How difficult the third season had been to film due to both of you being spread thin by additional responsibilities.

You skim over that time Levi mentioned you in an interview when asked about a favourite memory on set, and how warm it made you feel. You don’t talk about how you’d genuinely teared up after watching the final cut of the scene where Hange discovers a half-dead Levi by the riverbank, despite knowing that his ‘injuries’ were nothing more than your own handiwork.

And, with your heart clenching painfully, you certainly don’t dare to bring up the almost-kiss at last year’s cast and crew Halloween party.

——— 

“Cut! Perfect! Aaand that’s a wrap for Levi!” 

The set erupts into thunderous applause. You clap heartily alongside the rest of the cast and crew. A deafening symphony of whoops and cheers fills the air, and if not for the growing lump in your throat, you’d join in too. 

A standing ovation. Levi deserves it and more. Just as you expected, every angle the director wanted to capture had needed one take each, not a single one more. No eyedrops needed. 

From your position, you can see Levi still sitting by the rock. Strangely, he makes no move to get up. Curious as to why, you peer past some crew members that had moved in the way, but you’re greeted with a sight that pulls at your heartstrings. Your eyes sting with new tears. 

Curled up by the rock, Levi has his face buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving with quiet sobs. 

Something in your chest aches. You knew that he would get emotional at the end—there was no way he wouldn’t, especially considering that his character cried too—but you didn’t expect him to feel so overwhelmed. 

On instinct, your feet propel you towards him, but you’re promptly cut off by a few other crew members moving around. Through your rapidly blurring vision, you can only watch as several of the returning cast members rush forward from the smoke. Hange reaches him first, and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. Erwin is second, kneeling next to the duo and rubbing Levi’s back comfortingly. 

Sniffling, you quickly wipe away your tears, remembering suddenly that you still have something to do. Unnoticed, you slip away from set.

There is a tradition amongst the cast that whenever a character dies, the actor receives a bouquet of flowers from the cast and crew. (A size limit had to be enforced after a very emotional Gabi had presented Sasha with a bouquet so large it couldn’t fit through the trailer door.) For this final season, the tradition has expanded to gifting the actor a bouquet when they wrap, for the characters that survive all the way to the very end. 

The door to Connie’s trailer is unlocked when you arrive, just as he said it would be. Inside, you find a vase full of vibrantly coloured flowers on the kitchenette counter in the exact spot where you’d left it earlier this morning. Several weeks ago, the cast and crew had all nominated you to put in the order for the bouquet and present it to Levi on his final day, and Connie had offered to help you hide it from Levi until it was time. Careful to not drip water all over the floor, you pick up the flowers and jog back to set. 

The fog machines are being carried out by the time you return. You immediately scan the set for Levi, but it seems he has been completely buried under a massive group hug with the veterans cast, no doubt Hange’s doing. You can’t help but smile at the sight. Most of the crew members appear to be taking a break before clean-up, as it is the end of the day. The air is filled with chatter, but a hush descends upon the crowd as you approach. 

The actors peel away from the hug one by one. A smiling Petra helps Levi get to his feet. The bandages on his face are halfway unravelled. With one hand, he yanks them off, leaving both of his eyes to gaze at you unobstructed, ablaze with an intense emotion you can’t quite place. With his other hand, he quickly wipes away the half-dried tears on his cheeks. 

“On behalf of the cast and crew,” you say hoarsely, “I give you these.” You step forward and present him the bouquet. “It’s been an honour. Thank you for everything, Levi.” 

His fingers gently graze yours as he takes the flowers from you. Tenderly, he holds them close to his chest. 

“I was wondering where you went just now,” he says. Of course he’d noticed. “Should’ve known you’d be the one to give me this…” His voice wavers towards the end. He scoffs and wipes at his eyes. “And to think I was done blubbering like a baby. Damn it. You were right.” 

He pulls you into a hug without a second thought. 

——— 

Somehow, you’ve been roped into taking photos for everyone. Levi unwraps the bandages around his hand before he begins. He first takes a photo with the director and producer, who both thanking him dearly. They part with a handshake. Almost immediately after, the cast members of the Alliance, along with Eren and Zeke, all swarm forward for a big group photo. They’d all come to watch in support, even if several of them weren’t scheduled to come in today. Connie confesses that he’d helped hide the bouquet by letting you into his trailer. Levi makes a light-hearted remark that he should’ve figured that out too, considering Connie also helped hide Hange’s bouquet—which Levi himself had been responsible for ordering and retrieving. 

The veteran actors come forward next. Fitting them all into the camera frame was a challenge, but you manage to do it after one of your makeup assistants finds you a stool. Somehow, Erwin manages to persuade Levi into doing the Scout salute with the rest of them. (“I just did it in the scene, though… Fine, I’ll indulge in your corniness for today, you dorks.”) When he presses his fist to his chest one last time, the veterans erupt into cheers. 

Hange and Erwin both stay back for a little longer. The trio pose for more photos, all grinning widely, though you decide to put a stop to the mini-photoshoot when Hange attempts to pick Levi up bridal-style and almost drops him. 

(“When I said ‘put me down’, I didn’t mean for you to drop me with no fucking warning!” 

“I didn’t mean to drop you. Besides, I caught you, didn’t I? You’re fine, see?”) 

After that fiasco, Levi asks to take one with the original Special Ops Squad, as it had been years since they’d managed to meet up. 

Zeke comes back for another photo, slipping one arm around Levi’s shoulders. As you meet the taller man’s eyes over the top of his phone, he winks mischievously, holding two fingers up in bunny ears above Levi’s unsuspecting head. Say nothing, he mouths to you. With a herculean effort, you suppress your laugh. Zeke has made it his personal mission to photobomb every main cast member from the finale. After months of shooting, Levi is the last one standing, and it’s incredibly entertaining how hard Zeke tries to finish his mission, even now. 

“Hand down, Zeke.” 

“Damn it, how did you know?” 

“You’re about as subtle as Reiner is when he pretends he hasn’t broken a prop.” 

Zeke laughs. “Nothing gets past you, Levi, does it?”

As the two continue to playfully bicker, more jokes than actual verbal barbs, you open the photo you’d managed to take split seconds before Levi called Zeke out. “Mission accomplished,” you say, and a delighted Zeke reaches over Levi’s head to high-five you. Looking mildly betrayed, Levi whips his head back around to face you. 

You grin sheepishly as you pass Zeke’s phone back to him, the photo on display. “Sorry. I had to help him.” 

“Why are you two like this?” Levi says, shaking his head, barely holding back a smile. He and Zeke part after a hug and a promise to get drinks soon.

Levi’s promptly joined by Falco and Gabi, and after their photo is taken, he ruffles their hair affectionately, which makes Gabi yelp. He really has stepped into the ‘cast dad’ role, a development that you find endlessly endearing. Soon after, their parents arrive to take them home— the kids have quite an early start tomorrow to film their scenes with Annie and Kiyomi on the boat. 

Jean and Connie take the chance to snatch a couple of selfies with him, before the latter asks if he could join them to film a TikTok for the show’s official account. To Levi’s utmost relief, it isn’t a dance challenge. Connie instead asks him a few questions about how he feels about the show ending, and what the show means to him—he’s putting together a montage of every cast member’s responses. 

On the sidelines, just out of view, you watch Levi give his answers. An ember of warmth kindles in your chest. 

Soon after, Levi’s approached by the stunt team, headed by an old friend of Levi’s from his stuntman days. She’d made a cameo in the third season as Kenny’s lieutenant. You happily take a group photo for them. 

After you hand Caven’s phone back to her, Hange taps you on the shoulder, having finished catching up with the other cast members. You smile as they hug you tight, swaying on the spot; today is the first time you’ve seen them since they filmed their death scene a few months back. 

“It’s so good to see you!” They say, linking arms with yours. “Sorry it took so long to come and find you.” 

“Don’t worry! It’s lovely having you back. How are you finding your return?” 

“It’s great! I’ve really been missing this, even though it hasn’t been that long.” They pout. 

“Oh, we’ve all missed you too, Hange,” you say, smiling. “Have you been up to much since you left?” 

“Well, I visited my dad for a bit, then I sent in an audition tape for this thriller movie that my agent thinks I’ll be a good pick for. I also got a few other offers, but I’m a little on the fence. I’ll consider those if I don’t get that thriller role, but who knows when I’ll hear back from them?” 

“I bet you’ll get it. Thrillers are right up your alley.” 

“You flatter me, dear,” They grin. “Anyways, I am here to say that you are the only one left who has not taken a picture with Levi. And that needs to change. The two of you need something to remember this day by!” You realise they’ve been guiding you towards the rock, where Levi, Mikasa, Armin and Eren are deep in conversation. The younger actors are laughing boisterously at something Levi had said, heads tilted back, sporting wide grins. Levi’s still cradling his bouquet carefully, a soft smile as he speaks, looking up at his younger cast mates with endearment. Your heart warms at the sight. 

The quartet look up as you approach. The younger actors wave goodbye, disappearing into the crowd. Hange quickly ushers you and Levi together, their phone already out of their pocket. “Alrighty, here we go!” They cheer. “Oi, look lively now, Levi. It’s the last photo!” 

“Was about time we did this,” you whisper to him as you come close. At first, you settle into your usual stance whenever you take a photo with a cast member, but Levi is not just any cast member. Not to you. Gnawing on your lip, you grapple with yourself for a fleeting moment. Your professional side barely puts up a resistance, and so you lean in to whisper a question. Briefly, you wonder what it would feel like to kiss the delicate shell of his ear. You banish the traitorous thought, best as you can. 

“Hey, can I put my arm around you for this?” As close as you and Levi have grown over the years, the two of you save your brief hugs for behind the scenes, in private. Physical affection is rare with him otherwise—whilst the cast tend to be very touchy with one another, Levi is usually seen on the sides, watching them with a quiet fondness in his eyes. That hug from earlier—it had to be a fluke, right? 

And yet, he sighs, and bridges the small gap between you. His free arm moves behind you, a warm, firm hand comes to rest at your back. “You don’t have to ask, you know,” he murmurs in return. “I hugged you earlier, didn't I? Quit worrying. Go ahead.” 

Warmth blooming inside you, you lean sideways towards him on impulse. You slide your own arm behind him, and Levi leans into your touch. “Just so you know,” he continues, “it was an honour working with you too.” 

Hange starts to count down from three. A wave of emotion hits you, almost sweeps you off your feet. This is it. Your last day of working with him.

Still so much left unsaid. 

Straining to keep your composure, you offer a wide, bright smile for the camera. 

——— 

The next few hours are spent tidying and cleaning up. Most of the actors have gone home, but Levi stays behind to help out the crew, as he always does without fail. With how emotionally taxing the day had been, it’s a wonder he didn’t go back to his trailer immediately to crash. As if you couldn’t admire him any more. 

Your eyelids are heavy by the time you finish up and arrive at Levi’s trailer. When you enter, he is slumped in a chair in front of the vanity mirror, already changed out of his costume. 

Neither of you say a single word as you carefully wipe away the scars and the grime. Your traitorous hands linger for a split second too long whenever they brush against his smooth skin. In his stormy eyes are that same intense look he’d given you when you first appeared with the bouquet. 

You wonder what it means. 

Sooner or later, one of you will have to break this fragile silence. Levi decides to take the matter into his own hands, catching you off guard. “I guess this is it.”

The sting in your eyes returns with a fierce vengeance. You turn away for a moment, rapidly blinking your oncoming tears away. An invisible vice clamps down, mercilessly clenching your chest. 

You choke on your words, but you get them out somehow. “I’ll miss you.” Not the three words you’ve been yearning to say for the last year, but it will have to do. “I’m going to miss you. So much. It’s been…” You wrack your brain, but there is no singular adjective you know of that could truly describe the past few years working on this show with him. “You know what I mean. Right?” 

“I know what you mean.” Levi stands, turning to face you properly. The troubled crease between his brows return. “Look, I… I have to tell you something. Hear me out?” 

Your heart thunders in your chest. You nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Remember this morning? I said I was satisfied with my work here. That I have no regrets.” 

Barely able to breathe, you can only manage to nod. 

“But that isn’t true. Not really. There is one thing I regret,” he says, slowly, cautiously. 

Voice barely a whisper, you ask. “What is it?” 

“That we never talked about what almost happened at Halloween last year.” 

The world comes to a halt. 

Dimmed lights. Bass reverberates through your bones. The aftertaste of a Bloody Mary lingers on your tongue. Levi is just centimetres away, his chest almost flush with yours. His eyes valiantly fight to stay focused on the intricate titan-shifter makeup on your cheeks, before he gives in and his line of sight drops to your lips. Unconsciously, he leans in slightly, seemingly gravitating towards you.

Devastating. That is the first word that comes to your mind. It is high time you realise that he will be the end of you; he could ask anything of you and you’d do it. Your heart beats for him. 

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his.

A drunken crew member barges past, jostling your shoulder. You yelp, stumbling to the side, before Levi’s hands—warm, steady, safe—catch you. The spell broken, he lets go the moment you are upright, averting his eyes from yours. Levi takes a step backwards—a small one, because there is barely any space in the corner of the room the two of you are tucked into. But to you, he suddenly feels so distant, that he might as well be on the other side of the universe. 

“I need some air,” he says, stoic mask falling back into place. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, Levi turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd, taking all the warmth of the room with him. 

No. This is dangerous territory. Since that night, the two of you had constructed an unspoken agreement to pretend nothing had ever happened. Levi had never made any impression that it was anything other than a drunken lapse in professionalism. For a while, you wondered if he even remembered that moment, or if it had all been in your head, a result of you projecting your own desires onto him. 

Regardless, he had never brought it up. You’d been content to do the same. It was—and still is—impossible to fathom that Levi would ever want you. 

“Tell me,” he says hoarsely, “that I wasn’t imagining things that night, and every day since. Tell me I’m not imagining that you’ve been looking at me like…” 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Like what?” 

“Like that!” He snaps. His hands tremble in a way you’ve never seen before as he gestures towards you, voice tinged with desperation. “Like how you’re looking at me right now. I-I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. Because if I had… maybe I would’ve…” 

The staggering realisation of what he’s trying to say sinks in. 

Choking back a sob of relief, you reach out for his hands, and he offers them to you with no resistance. A light blush sweeps across his face as he stares at your interlocking fingers with something akin to wonder. 

Breathlessly, you dare to ask. “Do you mean it? That if you had known how I felt, you… you would’ve kissed me?”

“Yes. I would’ve. I wanted to, more than anything.” With that, Levi finally looks up from your joined hands. The burning look he’s been giving you all throughout today—you recognise it, now, plain and simple. 

His earlier words ring in your mind. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. 

“Oh, Levi,” you whisper. 

He continues on. “And if I had known how you felt, I wouldn’t have upped and left you like that. I was being a shitty coward, for running away and pretending it never happened, and never giving you an explanation when you deserved one. I was scared, I think, of ruining what we already had. You didn’t imagine anything on my part, it happened, and you didn’t do anything wrong that night… I’m sorry.”

Smiling, you squeeze his hands; warm, steady, safe. “You aren’t imagining things on my end either. I’m in love with you, and have been for a while now.” You don’t need him to say those precious words back for now—Levi’s endearingly clumsy attempt at confessing means more to you than he’ll ever know. “And I forgive you for running out on me that night. We both thought it didn’t mean anything to the other person. For so long, I thought that even if you did, things would never work out, that today would be goodbye, because I have a new contract on the other side of the country, and you’ll be going back to stunt work, a-and…” Your voice trembles, so you force yourself to stop, and breathe. 

“It will work. I swear it, I’m not saying goodbye to you. I don’t care what’s coming next, we can make it work.” He seems to muster his resolve, tugging you closer. “No more dancing around this like idiots. We have enough lost time to make up for.” 

Smiling so widely your cheeks ache, you playfully poke his cheek. “Well, you can always begin with the kiss you owe me, yeah?” 

“You smart-arse.” Levi chuckles, before gently cupping the back of your head with his hand. In a swift movement, he leans in and captures your lips with his.

It’s nothing short of divine. 

Levi kisses you with years worth of yearning behind it. His other hand moves to cradle your face, thumb brushing against the curve of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of happiness. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you deepen the kiss. Tongues move in tandem, and it isn’t long before hands begin to roam, exploring the terrains of each other’s bodies with an almost innocent curiosity. Heat simmers underneath your skin, a carnal flame yearning to be stoked, to devour. 

For now, though, you’ll have to temper it. 

Coming up for air, you close your eyes, resting your forehead against his. As much as you desperately want him, you don’t want your first time having sex with Levi to be in a trailer on set, with multiple crew members still milling around outside and packing up for the day. You tell him as such, and he murmurs his agreement after kissing you once more. 

“Glad we’re on the same page about that, so…” Realising what you’re about to say next, you choke back a grin at your own cheesiness. “You wanna go back to your place or mine?” 

Levi rests his forehead on your shoulder and chokes back a laugh. “Fuck, that’s such a cliché line.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, but the question still stands.” 

He looks up at you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Yours, then.” 

The time spent packing up and driving back to your home crawls by agonisingly slowly. The moment the two of you cross the threshold onto your home, he’s closing the gap between the two of you, kissing you breathless, thoughtless, until only your longing for him remains. So much so that you almost forget to stop and get a condom out from your drawer—in fact, Levi has to remind you. 

The rare few times you had allowed yourself to think about it, you’d pictured Levi as a tender lover, gentle despite his coarseness. He is all this and more. At his fingertips, you come alive. As he makes love to you, laughs and sweet nothings fill the air between the deep kisses you share. You should’ve expected just how generous he can be in bed, but it still takes you by surprise, the way he worships your body with a deep-rooted reverence, determined to pleasure you over and over. In turn, you reciprocate eagerly, honoured that Levi trusts you to take care of him in return, that he is so readily vulnerable with you. 

Once the two of you are finally, utterly spent, Levi nudges you awake before you can fully slip into a deep doze, cosy and comfortable in his embrace. “Hey. Gotta clean ourselves up, sleepyhead.” 

You chuckle drowsily, and miraculously muster up the strength to crawl out of his arms, out of the warm sheets. “The bathroom is just down the hall,” you yawn, trudging towards a cupboard not the other side of your room. “You can shower first whilst I change the sheets and find you a towel and some spare clothes, ‘kay?” 

“Or,” Levi says, voice hoarse with the same kind of contented exhaustion that makes you yearn to curl up beneath the sheets in his arms, “you could come with me.” He pulls you back in, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, which tickle slightly. 

Euphoric, you close your eyes and laugh. “Okay.” 

Showering together is an incredibly sweet, domestic affair. Long after you’ve rinsed off all the lather, you’re both hesitant to leave the warmth of the running water, content to cling onto each other and relish in the feeling of skin against skin. 

After the two of you dry off and change the sheets, you climb into bed. Half awake and basking in each other’s presence, you pull him close, nestling your head on his chest. When was the last time you had felt so cherished, so happy? 

Sleep claims you swiftly, but not before Levi kisses the top of your head and tells you what you already know: 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

——— 

Several weeks later

The wrap party is well underway by the time you and Levi arrive. 

The lights are dim, and the music reverberates through your bones. Levi’s hand finds a home in the curve of your waist as he guides you through the crowd of drunken cast and crew members. His touch anchors you, and you find yourself smiling giddily. 

After helping yourself to a cocktail, the hours fly by. Apparently, the entire cast plus half of the crew (including all of the makeup assistants under your command) had been rooting for you and Levi to get together. Tonight when you finally revealed you were in a relationship with him to your juniors, you were subjected to an intense barrage of questions. This, however, paled in comparison to Hange’s reaction when Levi held your hand in front of their very eyes—they’d launched an interrogation so brutal you wonder why they didn’t enter law enforcement instead.

Soon after escaping Hange’s interrogation, you two both get another drink. “Everybody seems far too invested in this development than they should be,” you sigh, still frazzled. “How long do you reckon they’ve been shipping us?” 

A look of exasperation flits across Levi’s face. “I don’t know, and I hate that I even know what ‘shipping’ means in this context. Also, I saw Zeke give Erwin money when Hange was drilling us. Fuckers had some kind of bet running on us. Don’t even wanna know how long that had gone on for.”

You tip your head back and laugh. “Colour me unsurprised. That sounds very on-brand for Zeke and Erwin. You know, I think I saw Armin and Connie do the same. Guess Armin’s not as angelic as he looks.” 

“That’s been known, sweetheart. The kid’s a menace in disguise.” He kisses your cheek. “Just like you, actually, now that I think about it.”

Playfully, you swat him away. “Hey, who are you calling a menace?” 

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves catching some air outside, needing a moment to sober up and recalibrate after a whirlwind of social interaction. Levi’s hand returns to your waist and tugs you closer to him, seeking out your warmth. Melting into his touch, you do you best to commit the feeling of his embrace to memory. Soon, you’ll move away for a few months for your next contract, but you no longer fear it. Levi had sworn to you that this would work out, and there is nobody’s word you trust more than his.

Your love for each other has endured for years in the past. A handful more months is nothing.

Levi shifts slightly to get a better look at you, and cups your cheek. Meeting his gaze, your heart stops; his eyes are a breathtaking silver in the moonlight. Easily the most expressive feature he has, you could get lost in them for hours. 

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his. 

This time, Levi meets you halfway.

Do not repost, modify or claim as your own work.

Masterlist

[hollygracesworld]

Lover | Patrick Wilson x Fem!reader

Summary : You and Patrick had a one night stand a few months ago. And now you’re 6 months pregnant. You don't expect to meet the father of your child because you’re a woman who prefers to be alone. But fate said otherwise, you meet again with the father who made your stomach grow big.

And you stupidly didn’t know that he was an actor.

A/N : it’s a fluffy part, there’s no warning :)) I WROTE THIS WHILE MY FRIENDS PLAYED PERFECT-ED SHEERAN, ITS JUST GETTING MORE ROMANTIC OMG.

CHAPTER 2/2 (chapter 1) sequelsmut

masterlist

CHAPTER 2

The stove is on. You warm up the clear soup you made this morning. You stir it, then you taste it a little.

“This place looks….very comfy and far from the city.”You heard a man’s voice from behind you who started to enter the kitchen. “I’m sorry because I didn’t have time to come here yesterday…

You turned around for a moment and smiled at Patrick, then went back to stirring the soup, “It’s okay.” you could feel Patrick smiling behind you, he took off his leather jacket and put it on the wall-hanger.

“Please sit down.” You said looking at Patrick gesturing him to sit at the dining table. Then you start to turn down the heat on the stove, “sorry if my place doesn’t meet your expectations. My life is far from glamour thing.”

“My life too.” Patrick said which suddenly surprised you. then he continued his sentence, “I don’t like the spotlight, all this time I have tried to avoid things like that and… I just want to be an ordinary guy.”

You smiled, “you came to the right place.” then you put 2 bowls of hot soup on the dining table.

“Uh, so you’re vegetarian?” Patrick smiled back, looking at the soup with interest.

“No. But lately I’ve been eating vegetables more often because I’m craving vegetables. Your babies are very fussy and kick my stomach if they don’t eat vegetables.”

Patrick laughed softly, “Sorry but I just found out that there are pregnant women who crave vegetables. But it’s good because it’s healthy for the pregnancy. And...” Patrick looked at your big belly, “It seems like they inherited the annoying behavior from their father more quickly.”

The two of you now face each other at the dining table and start eating the soup.

“Wow Y/N…. this is surprisingly delicious. I really like the mushrooms.” said Patrick while deliciously devouring his soup.

“Thank you. I know my food is too simple-"

“Please…. oh, this...” Patrick said while looking at you, “…this is perfect.”

After lunch, you invited Patrick to garden in front of the house. While you were gardening and watering the plants, several times Patrick took over what you were doing, remembering that you were a pregnant woman. You could see the worry on his face. After that, you invited him to the area behind your house to pick oranges from your garden for Patrick so he can take home later.

“You did all this alone?” Patrick asked as he picked oranges in your garden.

You shook your head, “no, I was with my older brother. but he died... right before I met you.” Your words in the last sentence sound poignant.

You can feel that Patrick feels very guilty. Before he answered your words, you quickly continued, “He has been sick for the last 2 years, and his fiancé left him because of his condition. There was a problem with his heart, I did everything I could to get him well. We’ve been back and forth to the hospital, our money and our died-mother’s house had already been sold.”

Patrick lowered his head. Trying to digest it all. Then he looked back at you guiltily, “I’m sorry for everything that happened.”

There was a fairly long pause, then Patrick opened the conversation again, “So that’s why you went to the club at that time? Because you felt like your whole life was ruined?”

You nod slowly. Patrick exhaled, “I should’ve known this. I was really an asshole, I..."

“No... no Patrick,” you cut him off, “you don’t have to be responsible for me and my children just because my life is ruined.”

“Our children,” said Patrick, emphasizing his sentence. He saw you starting to shake with sadness. Patrick swiftly hugged you and put your head gently on his shoulder.

You looked up and saw Patrick’s sunlit face. He smiled, then wiped your tears. “I’m here... I’ll always be here.”said Patrick softly.

Patrick kissed your forehead gently and tucked your hair behind your ear. He- who unconsciously uttered the words from his mouth, “Beautiful.”

Then you laughed softly at Patrick’s words. He reflexively blushes, his face turns red, then he quickly gets down and holds your pregnant stomach.

“Hello buddies, this is your papa,” said Patrick, smiling happily, you chuckled softly, “you know you have a very extraordinary mother. More than your father. She is a strong woman, and I really hope you can be great... just like your mother.” Patrick looked at you, again. He couldn’t stop smiling at you.

Patrick stood back up and looked at you. You thought he would say something, but something beyond your expectations happened. He grabbed your chin and kissed your lips gently. The kiss seemed real, unlike what happened between you at the club.

“Thank you,” said Patrick whose lips were still touching yours, “thank you for all this.”

You smiled, then you two kissed again. Patrick hugged you tightly.

It’s getting late in the night, you know it’s time for Patrick to return to his house in New Jersey. You realize that Patrick is an actor, he is very busy... especially since he just told me that there is a new project for the Conjuring film.

You took his leather jacket which was on the wall hanger, and you helped put his jacket on. When the jacket was on his body, your hands reflexively grabbed Patrick’s chest. It feels like just yesterday you felt that sexy body inside you, that musky perfume.….

You miss slept with him. But you have to bury your thoughts about that. You know this is not the time to do that again.

“Y/N…” Patrick whispered softly in your ear, “come with me.”

You smiled, “no I’m fine, you go, just let me know if you want to play here again.”

“That’s not a question.” said Patrick, “Stay with me. Tomorrow I want to introduce you to my co-worker at the shooting location. They’ll be very happy and you will make lots of friends there...”

You lowered your head, your hand still holding Patrick's chest, “but it's late-"

“You can rest in my car. And then, I will take you straight to my apartment. Bring all your things, Y/N... I can’t leave you here alone...”

“But what about my garden?” you asked worriedly.

“Your uncle’s family seems to be indebted to you..." Patrick smiled, “I contacted them earlier. They are going on holiday here. Of course you don’t mind if someone lives here, right?”

You smiled, “wow, that’s sneaky. Do they really want to live in a village like this?”

“Don’t think about it,” Patrick said stroking your cheek, “Come on, we have to pack your things.”

You chuckled softly at Patrick's enthusiasm when he started looking for things around you. He grabbed the black suitcase that was under the stairs, “you’re going to use this, right?”

You nodded slowly, you chuckled at Patrick's behavior as if he was busy collecting your things, “why are you doing all this?”

Patrick stopped doing what he was doing, he looked at you and said, “I don't know. I suddenly thought of something...”

“….I want to introduce my lover to everyone I know," said Patrick and then he kissed your right hand gently, "especially my parents. Because they don't know yet that they will be grandparents.”

THE END

Sequel (18+) is coming soon❤️

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting

This is my first ever fan fiction. I adore Jensen Ackles and have no hate towards his family. In this he’s single. I’m not sure exactly how to do this so any suggestions or feedback is appreciated. Please be kind and all mistakes are my own.

Please don’t take my work. 18+ Only!

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (later on), Jensen being a sweetheart

———————————————————————

You guess in order to tell your story you have to start when you and Jensen first met. It was a chilly day in October. You were so excited about your first ever Supernatural Convention. You had been a fan of the show since it started and watched every single episode, several times over. Like everyone else, you have your favorites and of course like everyone your least favorite being the very last episode.

Anyway, you’re rambling. You tend to do that when you think back on moments where your world turned upside down. Like you said before, this was your first convention. You’ve seen videos on YouTube, Instagram, Facebook and TikTok, but nothing could have prepared you for being there in person.

You spent the money for the gold admission, because hey go big or go home, right? You had every outfit picked out for each photo op and panel you knew you were going to attend. You had paid for single photo ops of Misha, Jared, and of course the green eyed angel himself, Jensen. You’ve always been a “Dean” girl, and a fan of Jensen. Between his shows, movies and his music. Damn is he a talented man. You also had a photo op for Jared, Jensen and Misha. *swoon* The photo ops were all scheduled for Saturday as were most of the panels. You didn’t know exactly what to expect for Friday, but the air was electrified with anticipation, excitement and curiosity. You opted to stay at the hotel that was hosting the convention because you seriously didn’t want to have to Uber back and forth. Plus you wanted to come and go when you got tired or needed a break you’d head to your room then back down again.

You finally arrived at the check in desk and got my room key. The front desk clerk was super nice but gave you a weird smile and wink when she told you your room and floor. “You’re on the 7th floor, room 714” *grin and wink* Um, thanks you said as you grabbed the key and your stuff. As you waited for the elevator you heard some fans talking about the actors who were already there. One of them asked about Jared, Jensen and Misha. The first girl who was obviously a Dean girl by the look of her outfit said they don’t get there until late tonight so they shouldn’t expect to see them at all today. You laughed at the disappointment on their faces and put in your earbuds and turned on Radio Company to just relax. Something about Jensen’s voice just made you relaxed. Of course one of your favorite songs started right up and you couldn’t help but sing along. “Ain’t No Tellin” was playing as the elevator opened up.

*Ding* went the elevator and you stepped in. You couldn’t believe you were alone in the elevator. Or so you thought. You must have missed the man standing in the corner. In your defense he had on a dark pullover and a baseball cap. You continued singing this time louder because again, you thought you were alone. Then there was a tap on your shoulder and you screamed. The man standing in the corner threw his hands up apologizing for scaring you. It was then you realized you knew that voice. Oh my god! It was Jensen Ackles!! You pulled your earbuds out and told him you were sorry you screamed and you didn’t see him there. He smirked that half cocked smirk and said I figured since you started singing louder once you got in. Your face instantly turned three shades of red. He extended his hand and said “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” You take his strong calloused hand in yours trying not to melt and trying to remember your name. Oh my god, my name, what’s my name?!?!? His beautiful green eyes staring straight into your soul. You felt his thumb rub circles on your hand and you suddenly remembered how to speak. You smile brightly with your y/c eyes and finally say My name is y/n, nice to meet you. Your hands held on just a few seconds longer before you both pulled away. Well nice to meet you y/n I hope you have a great time this weekend and I get to see you again soon. Yeah, thanks you too is all you could say with a smile.

The elevator stopped on floor 7 and you stepped out looking at the signs on the wall for which direction your room was in. You were talking to yourself when you heard that honey whiskey voice in your ear “Find your room yet?” His warm breath was on your ear and neck and it sent shivers down your spine. You spin around and you realize just how close you two really are. Damn his eyes are beautiful you think to yourself and those plump lips. Mmm I could get drunk off of those you thought. You manage to whisper out “yeah, I’m in 714, it’s this way.” Jensen smiles and nods as you walk away.

You make it to your room and go around checking everything before you start to unpack. You’re halfway through unpacking when there is a knock at your door. You sigh walk over and look out the peephole and see Jensen standing there with a grin on his face. You start to panic thinking you did something wrong. With a deep breath you open the door and smile. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” He looked at you smiled and asked if he could come in for a minute. You step aside and let him in before closing the door and locking it. This was a habit you picked up long ago being single and living alone. He came in and took a seat at the foot of the bed. You stood near the door trying to figure out what was going on. The silence seemed to go on for hours, but it was really seconds. Jensen told you he really enjoyed hearing you sing and he wanted to know if you would join everyone tonight for the Karaoke party and maybe sing something with him. I’m sorry what? Was all you could say. He chuckled and said it again. I don’t really like singing in front of people, if I knew anyone was on the elevator I wouldn’t have sang. You said and shyly smile at him. He stood up and took your hands in his. Y/N, please consider coming. I really would love to sing just one song with you. You look up into his emerald green eyes and look away. You take your hands out of his and sit in the chair at the desk.

“Why” you ask him in a very low voice. Why would you want me to sing with you. I’m nobody. Hell I don’t even look like the right type of woman to be standing next to you. I’m not a model, I have extra weight every where, stretch marks and I love chocolate. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Jensen sighed and bent down in front of you taking your hands again. Y/N please look at me. He spoke softly this time. You could smell his woodsy cologne and the mint gum he was chewing and it drove you wild. God he smelt like heaven and every time he touched you it was like electricity shooting through you. You kept your head down to hide the tears that pricked your eyes. You’ve never been beautiful in the eyes of the world and you’ve always carried extra weight. You’ve had your fill of insults and people judging you for your looks and you really didn’t want to stand up in front of a room full of strangers next to one of the most gorgeous men on the planet and judged. When you didn’t lift your head, Jensen slowly took his hand and placed it under your chin to lift up your face. He saw the pain in your eyes and you saw the regret and sadness in his. Hey sweetheart, don’t cry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to push or upset you. If you don’t want to I’m okay with it. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just wanted the world to hear that beautiful voice I heard. A single tear left your eye and you felt his thumb wipe it away. You looked in his eyes and you have no idea what or why, but you both started to move towards each other. Your lips were inches from his and he smiled. Jensen whispered “can I kiss you” and you nodded. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips then pulled away. You looked at him and smiled. As he walked towards the door Jensen turned around and said I hope to see you later y/n, even if you come just to enjoy the show. Then he turned around and left you standing in your room. Your head was spinning and you could feel the ghost of the kiss still on your lips.

You stood there for a few minutes trying to gather your thoughts. Did Jensen Ackles really just kiss me, and why? You had a decision to make, go to Karaoke or not. So many things running through your head. The loudest thing was how desperately you wanted to see and kiss Jensen again.

Next part coming soon

[princessamericachavez]

on the ‘accidental’ buddie

I have to laugh at these 911 writers trying to play coy, giving interviews saying things like “well we didn’t really intend to play into [Eddie’s strong reaction towards Buck’s death/parallels to the well/etc]” because, like, as someone who’s worked on audiovisual that’s not how the production of a tv show works??

What I mean by that is that his episode, and particularly that last call, was filled with a lot of deliberate choices. 

And I mean choices. Choices were made. 

Because someone decided that both Buck and Eddie would be wearing red harnesses for this event. See how Chim isn’t harnessed? Even when he thought he’d be the one going up? That is a choice someone made in the costume department. To have Buck and Eddie tied together by a red string [of fate]. 

That take of Eddie being the one to secure Buck’s harness to the line that would eventually save his life? A CHOICE. And I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. Not only was it in the script (hell, maybe it wasn’t, heavens know things change from the page to filming), but someone in the photography team chose to frame a close-up to it, to take it (and believe me with how expensive those rain effects must have been, they were not doing just ‘any take’ lightly). And- and!! Someone from post-production chose to edit it in. Chose to have it there. 

Eddie and Buck getting hit by the same lighting rod? A CHOICE. And the show runners can shrug all they want and say it only made sense because Eddie was manning the controls but who put him there? When you are writing, you are not leaving things to chance. You are creating a coherent narrative. Things don’t just ‘happen’. 

And sure, yes, I will bite and say Ryan’s performance knocked it out of the park and maybe wasn’t like that on the script. He gave it his all because he knows his character. To say it just ‘happened’ is to undermine his capacity as an actor to make choices both in voice and physical that tell the audience something. Acting is about being hyperaware of those things. 

You wanna know what is intentional, though? The way that scene is edited. THINK ABOUT IT. We see the lightning hit. We see Buck fall. We see the team’s shocked reaction to it. We’ve even seen Buck’s hanging body at this point. And yet, the camera stays on what? On Eddie. On Eddie getting up. On Eddie not seeing. On Eddie ready to get back to usual. And we get that close up —remember what I said about them not wasting on useless takes due to budget?— WELL we get to Eddie and we see his face, we see his reaction. And we go back to Buck. And we’ve already seen it! WE know! But Eddie doesn’t. Up until that moment, it doesn’t hit. And it’s then, it’s when it hits Eddie, that the music picks up and the story keeps moving. 

And let me ask you: why? Television is an audiovisual medium. You use image, sound, and dialogue to create the story. It’s multi-lingual. It’s not just what’s in the script. It’s how you film it, it’s how you edit it, it’s which directions you give the actors and what you choose to use once it’s only you in the editing room with tons of footage. This story they are telling it’s a very very deliberate choice that involves a lot of people (costume, actors, cameras, editors, sound, marketing). 

So when we see Eddie try to pull Buck back up, screaming, before he switches to letting him down? That’s a choice made in several steps along the way, red string and all, for it to get to your screen. When we see Eddie push Bobby out of the way to get to Buck, when we see Bobby pull him back, when we see Eddie looking back twice at Buck’s unconscious body and wipe his face before he gets into the ambulance? Choices, choices, choices, so many choices made by several people who had a ton of options, takes, versions, and chose to go with this one. 

So, I’m sorry, but I cannot, for the life of me, take the writers/showrunners seriously when they say things like “well, I don’t think we really leaned into that on purpose”. JESUS CHRIST. Either stop playing coy or admit you suck at your job and don’t understand the process and that you are underestimating everyone working on this project! 

And, just to be clear, I do not think that’s the case. I believe they are trying to play coy to keep people guessing their intentions. It’s just frustrating because I don’t think they realize that to anyone with a minimum background in audiovisual storytelling... they are just making themselves look bad at their job (when they probably aren’t!). 

(WHERE IS THEIR PR DEPARTMENT?!)

[redheadspark]

Hi! For the request: Barry K and 5? 💐

A/N - I love this for Barry, thanks for requesting this!

Lazy

Summary - Barry needed a lazy day in, and you were happy to oblige

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

“Okay…no thank you I appreciate it…alright talk to you later, bye.”

You hung up your phone and placed it on the table, sighing in relief as the body that was curled up in front of you tightened its hold on you a pinch, you chuckling as the body finally spoke.

“You called off work?” The voice mumbled against your shirt, you grinning as you rubbed the tinted back with your fingertips and eased yourself back into bed, your head hitting the pillow and the cool blankets bunched around both of your waists.

“I did,” You replied.

“You didn’t need to—“ He was about to argue with you but you tutted and kissed his brown hair.

“I’ve saved plenty of hours to take the day off, they don’t need me tomorrow,” You reassured him as he held you a pinch tighter.  He said nothing else, only keeping you in his hold and almost suctioning to you like an octopus.  It was now morning, though the clouds were hiding the sun that had already risen.  With the shades drawn to only being in a small beacon of light from the outside world, it was the perfect day to simply sleep in and not do anything on your to-do list.  That list could wait as your boyfriend was still pressed against you and slowly drifting in and out of sleep.  

Barry’s schedule was daunting, almost to the point of madness since his recent projects have become insanely popular.  Needing to fly all over to press conferences, the several hours in interviews, and TV spots and appearances on plenty of channels and outlets, it was constant and never-ending.  Barry never minded it, but you could see he was losing steam and needing just a day or two of simply resting and needing to be in bed. 

You were going to make sure he had just that.

He came trudging to your apartment the night before, duffle bag in hand and bags under his eyes as you engulfed him in his arms.  He sunk into the hug, pulling you in a pinch deeper as you simply kept him close.  He sighed, almost deflating himself as you finally got him inside the apartment.  Stripping down to the pajamas he brought, you both went to bed simply embracing one another and before you knew it Barry was sleeping within seconds of hitting his head on the pillow.  

You felt relief seeing him in a deep sleep, running your fingers in his soft hair and your other hand running up and down his arm.  Although it was amazing what he was doing with his career and how he was thriving, getting the recognition he deserved as an actor, he was still human and had his moments of exhaustion.

“Let’s order in today,” you suggested as Barry was slowly blinking his eyes and moving up to rest his head on your neck, “I know a great pizza place down the street that has good pizza and pasta,”

“You tryin’ to get me fat?” Barry asked against your neck, though you felt his lip move into a smile as you giggled and shook your head.

“I’m trying to get you fed with great food, as I should as your girlfriend,” You answered, Barry then moved so that he was nose to nose with you and showed his bed head and sleep smile.  You saw he looked well rested, the bags that were under his eyes no longer there along his skin, and his eyes even seemed a bit perkier.  He always took your breath away with his blue eyes, they seemed so rare in color and in brightness.  

Ever since you two were introduced back at a small dinner party through a mutual friend, his eyes always made your heartstrings tug.  It took some convincing on your part to date him since you’ve heard so many stories of dating actors that ended badly.  But not with Barry, he made you feel like you were on top of the world and then some.  Always a gentleman, never one to push when it came to your comfort and consent and made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.  

“You always take care of me when I need it,” Barry hummed, his voice laced with sleep but still a bit light.  You smiled, pushing some of his soft hair from his eyes as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“I think that’s what a girlfriend does to her boyfriend, don’t you think?” You teased Barry, who was rolling his eyes, “Come on, Barry.  Let me take care of you for once, okay?”

Barry hated having people wake at his beck and call.  He would rather do a lot of the tasks himself, not wishing to be one of those actors who wanted people to cater to him constantly.  In fact, he was more private with his life than most other actors his age, and he wanted it that way,  Even with you he tried to do it all himself, both because he loved you and because it was his own way of simply functioning.  That did bother you from time to time, only because you wanted to love and take care of Barry too.  

Barry, seeing that you weren’t going to cave anytime soon, sighed in defeat.  But you were smiling from ear to ear, kissing his lips lightly and pulling him back in your arms again.  Barry had to laugh while he plopped back down in your hold and in bed.  It started to rain, the soft sounds hitting your bedroom window and on your roof, as you grabbed your cell phone again, pulling up the menu of the pizza place to show Barry the menu.  He took the phone, humming to himself as he was still suctioned to your side with a leg draped over yours and his chin on your chest.

“How about an extra large cheese to split?” He suggested.

“Let’s get that with breadsticks, and don’t say a word about bread.  Bread is a gift from God,” You comment as Barry laughed.

“I have no hate for bread,” He replied.  You both laughed as Barry was putting in the order for you two.  It ended up being the best lazy days of your life together. 

The End.

February Prompt Session

[rosewaterandivy]

won me over in spite of me

summary: after having met at the 2020 rock n' roll hall of fame induction ceremony, eddie munson will not leave you be. keeps going on about this guy who'd be perfect for you, but you're not interested in another set-up.

a/n: long live rockstar!eddie and his meddling ways!

🎶 you are the bearer of unconditional things, you held you breath and the door for me, thanks for your patience 🎶

“I’m so sorry,” you say, badly covering yet another yawn. “I don’t know why I’m so tired today.”

A lie. Of course you knew, how could you not?

“Something keep you awake?” he asks, voice soft against the crashing tide.

You’re walking side by side in the fading light, the salty breeze tickling your nose. He’s holding your boots in one hand, insisting that they’re too nice for you to resign them to the sand, your socks tucked into his back pocket.

An amber glow cuts across his face, making him even more handsome, impossibly enough. You bite your lip, looking quickly away when his eyes meet yours— mossy green and flecked with gold.

“The jet lag, probably.” You huff and laugh, turning to watch the sunset.

He hums in thought, “We could’ve rescheduled.”

“What? like we haven’t done that several times over already?”

His bark of laughter is loud and brings a smile to your face. Steve Harrington, the talented and in-demand actor, laughing at your motor mouth. Who would have thought?

Well, Eddie Munson, for one.

“Eds,” you growl picking up your phone, “It’s 4 in the fucking morning.”

“… shit, sorry.”

You roll over onto your stomach, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Well, what is it? What couldn’t you possibly wait to badger me about?”

He sighs down the line, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Remember how you were drunkenly lamenting the lack of decent men in the dating scene?”

“I told you that in confidence, Edward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, “And apps are the worst, even if they claim to have a screening process like Raya— that’s not your scene.”

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Will you just lemme,” he lets out an exasperated huff. “I am trying to you a solid girly.”

A brief consideration.

“You know how I feel about set-ups.”

“Okay, but it’s me? I’m not gonna set you up with some creep who has like, a collection of Furbies or some shit.”

“Long Furbies or normal Furbies?”

“Was any Furby truly normal? More like demon spawn— but that’s beside the point.”

You sigh, smooshing your face into the pillow and mumble out something unintelligible.

“C’mon sugar, use your big girl words.”

God, you could kill him.

“I said,” you enunciate pointedly, “I’ll consider it.”

“Hell yeah!” he crows directly into your ear. “Only a year of bugging you and you finally see reason.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Munson.”

He ends the call by promising to send you the details. so, after your set in Munich you read through a few emails— put out a few fires your publicist expressed concern about, and check your texts.

eds: steve harrington

you: i’m sorry who?

eds: … are you fucking with me?

you: no??

eds: omg 😆 he’s gonna love that

you: the guy you’re trying to set me up with gets off on people not knowing who he is? not really selling it to me here, munson.

eds: no, that’s not— i’ll send you a pic

you: if there is a whisper of dick, i am throwing my phone into the isar river

eds: [IMG]

“Really?” you greet once he picks up, “That’s the pic? How is that supposed to be helpful?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Shut up, nerd. I know you don’t sleep. Just answer the question.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs softly. “It’s his contact photo in my phone— whaddaya want from me? You said you didn’t want a dick pic.”

You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Eds, why would you have seen this guy’s dick, much less have a photo of it?”

“Truthfully, it was an accident, both times.” You can hear him shuffling across the line. “But there is nothing wrong with dudes checking out each other’s rigs.”

“I—" your mouth is gaping open like a fish. “I need to drink myself to oblivion to forget this conversation.”

“I mean, it’s noice, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says unhelpfully.

“GOODBYE Edward!”

Thankfully, he calls not long after the disastrous text exchange. You were doing fuck-all lounging around the house since finishing your festival circuit. Technically, this was supposed to be a writing day, but the muse had not been kind to you lately. Studio time was booked for a few weeks out, and you were struggling to come up with the motivation to finish the last few songs for the album.

The buzz of the phone provided a needed excuse to pack it in for the day. Shutting your journal and tossing a pen onto the coffee table, you answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi." He cleared his throat briefly, "M'glad you picked up, considering how much of an idiot I was. Sorry, by the way."

Steve's voice is low and raspy, but warm and inviting. You lean back on the leather sofa, sinking back into the cushions suddenly not so nervous.

"Well, I'm a nice person, second chances and all that."

He laughs at that. "Very gracious of you."

"Though," you say, "You never did confirm that this is, in fact, Steve Harrington that I am speaking with."

"No?"

"Nope," you pop the 'p' for emphasis. "So, I'm gonna have to ask for some sort of proof because Eddie was less than helpful."

He scoffs, "Typical Munson."

A moment later your phone pings with a notification: s.h. sent an image. Opening it up, you compare it to the images that pop up when you Google his name, and, sure enough, that's him.

"Better?" he asks, after giving you a moment.

"I suppose it'll do. Not like I'm about to suggest facetime," you sigh, running a hand through your unkempt hair. "Especially when I'm rocking writer's retreat chic."

"Mmm," he hums, "Sounds comfy. I'm jealous."

"Yeah?" you laugh, "They not let you roll up in sweats and bleach-stained shirts for your shoot today?"

His laughter greets you, "Y'know, oddly they don't?"

The conversation flows easily from there. He tells you what he can about his current project and you regale him with tales from life on the road, including special appearances by one Eddie Munson. Steve is easy to talk to— effusive and funny, which you hadn’t expected.

You hate to admit it, but Eddie may have been onto something.

“And then he—" Steve stops short, mid-story about a prank gone awry onset of his last project, muttering an apology and you can hear him open the door.

"Mr. Harrington, they're ready for you on set."

Trying to ignore the sour pull of your gut, you heave yourself off of the couch determined to do at least one productive thing today. He had to get back to set, you needed to get something done today, and the conversation was coming to a close.

The door closes with a soft click, quickly followed by Steve's sigh. "So, I gotta get back to work."

"Yeah," you clear your throat. "I guess I should too."

"I, uh, I'm really glad we got to talk." His voice was softer now, "C-could I call you later?"

"Oh, sure." You swallow the nerves creeping up your throat and ignore the kick of your heart in your chest. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

You screw your eyes shut, feeling yourself growing hot. "Don't get a big head about it, Harrington."

He laughs, breath blowing in huffs down the line. "Might be too late for that honey."

Numerous phone and FaceTime calls, messages, and several reschedulings later, you were going on a date with Steve. A first date at that, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd been on one of those. His assistant and best friend, Robin had called to confirm with you and promised to drop a pin of the place in Malibu where you'd meet him.

You were lucky enough to fly relatively under the radar most of the time, but since releasing and touring with your sophomore album, it was becoming more difficult to pull off. Not that you didn't like being nominated and winning awards or receiving feedback from your peers— you did, it was just a cosmic catch-22.

Steve completely understood when you'd mentioned not wanting anything especially public for the date. Just said he'd take care of it and for you not to worry about a thing.

But here you were, doing just that staring at your closet trying to find something to wear. In a panic, you'd called Eddie who was currently rifling through your dresser and tossing things behind him. The only thing you'd been able to agree on were the denim shorts, laid out on the bed awaiting the rest of your outfit.

"Aha!" He tossed a red top onto the bed, turning back to face you. "Those," he gestured to the shirt and shorts, "With your boots— the Docs or Blood—"

“Blundstone.”

"Right," he nods, "S'what I said."

You appraise the articles of clothing warily. "Okay."

"Now the lingerie situation is where it gets interesting."

You scoff, "Absolutely not." And begin herding him toward the door, "Consider your services done for the evening."

Shutting the door to change, you hear Eddie talking indistinctly in the hallway. Tieing the hem of the shirt into a knot, you let Eddie back in to assess.

With a nod of approval, he ends the call. "What's up, hot stuff? Harrington's not gonna know what hit him!"

You smile and walk to the mirror in the bathroom to see what can be done about your hair and makeup.

"Speaking of which," Eddie trails after you. "That was him on the phone. Fashion emergency, would you believe?"

"Uh huh," you roll your eyes. "Okay, Miranda Priestly."

"Anyway, I gotta run." He gives you a quick peck on the cheek and a smile. "You're gonna knock 'em dead!"

And he's off.

"Hey," Eddie shouts from the first-floor entryway. "Keep your hair down and do a red lip with that, sugar!"

Steve meets you at the beach. He’s dressed down in jeans and t-shirt and a red bomber jacket— you try to hide the smirk creeping its way across your face; Eddie purposefully curating your respective sartorial choices to match. What a little scamp. You park the car, a vintage cream Mercedes convertible and give yourself a final look in the mirror— hair voluminous and wind whipped (shout-out to leave in stylers), red lip matching your top to a tee.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Hi,” he greets you, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Steve opens the door for you, allowing you to step out and put your sunglasses on.

The door shuts with a soft click.

“Hi,” you reply with a small smile, willing the nerves bubbling in your chest to stay at bay. You nod to the bundle of flowers, “Those for me?”

“Oh, right.” As if he’s just remembered them. “Yeah, your assistant said these were your favorite so.” He extends the hand holding the bouquet toward you, almost hesitantly.

“They are,” you say, fingers brushing against his as you accept the flowers, paper and cellophane crinkling in your grasp. Bringing them to your nose, you breathe in the fresh fragrance of the flowers. “You did good Harrington, thank you.”

He ducks his head and smiles, one hand coming up to run through his hair. “Uh, you're welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He jerks his head toward the beach, “We’re set-up a bit further down. You don’t mind a walk, do you?” You can feel his eyes on you, even as you look away to the shoreline.

A shake of your head, skin warming from the sun overhead and excitement at the possibility of this new thing between you and Steve. What might it be like? To put yourself through it all again, with someone new?

“No,” you answer, jarring yourself from any further lines of inquiry. “I don’t mind at all. Lead the way!”

He slows his pace to walk beside you, sunglasses hiding his gaze. You hold the flowers in your left hand, leaving your right— the one closest to Steve, free. He walks on the right, keeping the damp sand of the shore from you. It reminds you of something your grandmother said way back when you had started entertaining thoughts about dating for the first time: A gentleman always walks on the outside of their date, it’s a sign of chivalry and respect.

Your hands brush a couple of times, pinkies grazing one another. Steve is quiet, more so than you’d been accustomed to— he’s a regular chatterbox on the phone and a texting fiend, more often than not. Maybe he’s nervous? He certainly wouldn’t be the only one. Hands bumping against each other once more, you take it upon yourself make the first move.

“If you wanted to hold my hand so badly,” you laugh, twining your fingers together, “You could’ve just asked Steve.”

He looks at you, pink flush on his cheeks and a beatific smile. “Sorry,” he says with a squeeze of your hand, “Guess I’m a little rusty. And nervous,” he admits shyly. “You’re just so—“

“Intimidating? I get that a lot.”

Steve stops short, looking at you once more. “No— I mean, maybe to some but,” he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. “You’re … beautiful.”

It’s an interesting phrase and you notice that it’s not the usual you look beautiful. But instead he’s said it as a declaration of fact— you are beautiful. Not in the way that relies on your looks or the clothes you’re wearing. And it’s nice— it’s sincere because that’s just how Steve Harrington is, as you’ve come to quickly learn.

“Sorry, was that—“

“Don’t apologize,” you say, when you’ve found your voice again. “I— thank you.” You duck your chin to hide your stupid grin. “You’re beautiful too, Steve.”

The walk resumes, both of you more at ease now. The conversation flows easily between you— work, friends, schedules— and you allow yourself to relax. First-date jitters subsided with the cadence of his voice and the warmth of his hand engulfing yours.

Maybe, just maybe this could become something real.

And, if so, Eddie Munson would never let you hear the end of it.

[soleilceirinen]

Renaissance | teacher!Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader - Part 7

Summary: you are an Art History student in your last year at university. Cillian is your teacher. A/N: in this story Cillian is about 20 years older than the reader. Everything happens in an alternative universe where he is not an actor or famous, he doesn't have a wife or kids like in real life. English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake! Cillian Murphy Masterlist

You were on your way to Cillian’s office when you saw several people setting up a stall in front of the building. It made you smile because you knew very well what it would become in the next few days: a charity book market. Every year you used to go around the entire stall looking through the stacks of books for some hidden gem and this year wasn’t going to be less. 

Entering the building, you went up to the third floor, looking for Cillian's office. You stopped for a second in front of the closed door, despite having been there many times due to your tutoring sessions, you were nervous. Taking a deep breath, you gathered courage and knocked a few times. 

You couldn't hear anything on the other side, so you knocked on the door again, to no avail. Turning the knob a few times, you realised it was locked. Sighing, you left your bag on the floor and sat next to it, leaning against the cold stone wall in order to wait for him. 

Twenty minutes later you heard voices coming from the other side of the hallway, they were talking animatedly and laughing. You recognized Cillian's voice despite the distance, so you weren't surprised to see him turn the corner with other of your teachers. On the contrary, he did seem surprised when he saw you there. 

The teacher, Mrs. Byers, said goodbye and entered her respective office. Meanwhile, Cillian opened the door and motioned for you to enter.

Once inside you looked around briefly. It looked the same as always, the desk was a mess of papers and books, as well as the shelves packed with more books. On one of the walls there was a print with a reproduction of the Birth of Venus by Botticelli, you were staring at it when Cillian spoke.

“Sorry for making you wait, take a seat, please.”

You shrugged it off and sat in the chair in front of his desk with your legs crossed. “So, what did you want to talk about?” 

Cillian remained silent for a few seconds, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “It would be a good idea for you to change your line of research.” 

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water. 

“I can’t change my line of research at this point in the semester,” you stated as calmly as possible, “I won’t have time to do another research of this magnitude and as a result, I won't be able to graduate this year.”

“You could if you wanted. I already talked to Mrs. Byers, as you have seen before, and she won’t mind tutoring you. You can continue researching the female patrons of art in the Renaissance, you don't have to start from scratch.” 

He was trying to get rid of you. 

As the realisation hit you, you tried to remain composed but it was complicated, it took you all your strength to hold back your tears. Cillian noticed and turned around to look out the window absentmindedly.  

“Why?” you asked quietly. 

“Because it’s the most sensible option,” he answered, facing the window. 

“What are you talking about, Cillian? Or should I call you Mr. Murphy?” you blurted out. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to comprehend why suddenly you stopped talking to me, I mean, I have an idea of why but it still makes no sense to me. And now this, I don’t want to be tutored by Mrs. Byers. I want you, Cillian.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumped in what seemed to be a defeated attitude. 

“Y/N, please. You need to understand…”

“No!. The only thing I need to understand is why you’ve been acting like a total stranger with me for the last weeks because as far as I know, I’ve done nothing wrong or at least nothing that we both didn't want to do and now you are making me feel like a piece of shit.”

You stared at his back, the tears finally falling. Roughly, you wiped them with the sleeve of your sweater.

Cillian turned to you and rested his hands on the edge of the desk, like the first day of class. The golden glow of the sunset accentuated his features, it wasn’t fair that he looked so good in a moment like that. 

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, or to make you feel miserable in any way.” He paused and took a deep breath, looking at you intently like he hadn’t done in what felt like ages. “Quite the opposite, I want the best for you and that’s not me.”

You shook your head and let out a snort. "You sound like a coward, walking away instead of facing the consequences of your actions."

He slammed his desk, causing a few papers to fly away from the impact. You stared at him startled. 

“I would gladly face the consequences, Y/N. Let the entire university find out that one of my students comes to my house weekly, that she stays over, that we kiss, that I can’t get her out of my mind... what do you think would happen?" Cillian’s voice dropped, before you could say something he continued talking, leaning further and further over the desk with each word. “I could lose my job but it doesn’t matter, they would even do me a favour. I’d research independently, without losing time having to correct any exams or teach classes. But what about you? They could open a disciplinary file against you, so you would have real problems graduating and don't even think about continuing to study for a master's degree next year, at least not at this university.”

“Nobody needs to know about us,” you whispered, staring down at your hands, which were resting on your lap. 

“Y/N, look at me.” Reluctantly, you obeyed when Cillian reached to place a finger under your chin. He was looking at your face as if it were the last time he was going to see it and he wanted to burn it in his memory. “I know I’ve been a complete wanker, and I know it’s no excuse but it had been years since I felt what I feel when I'm with you and I didn't want to ruin it. I guess I already have. Believe it or not, our tutoring sessions became the best part of my days. I would be lying if I said I don’t miss having you around.”

“I miss it too,” you confessed. “And yes, you are such an idiot despite how old you are.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you with the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Would you at least consider changing the tutor?” 

“No.” You simply said.

Cillian smirked and nodded. “As expected from you.”

Later that night you were writing an essay when your phone made a familiar sound indicating a new message. You lazily grabbed it and opened the chat, the first thing you saw was a photo of Scout with his tongue hanging out with a doggy smile. Next you read the text  that said "Scout misses you."

You stood up stretching your back before walking towards the wall next to your bed. There, you had been creating a collage of photos with your friends and family during the last three years. Immediately, you found what you were looking for. Between a photograph from last summer with Olivia and Valerie and a postcard from the most recent museum you had visited was a polaroid of a young Cillian.

If you had to compare Scout's expression to a real person, that would be it.

[jahayla-parker]

In Time : Tom Holland x Reader

Chapter 2

5.42k wc , click here for warnings and other chapters

“Are you really sure?” Tom asked guiltily.

“Tom,” y/n scolded lightly. “Yes, how many times are you going to ask?” She laughed as she began to look through her cupboards to decide on what to make for dinner.

“I just… you were already so generous to let me stay here this afternoon, but staying with you for a while is a whole other ask,” Tom defended.

“One that I’m fine with, as long as the whole not being a murderer agreement stays in place,” y/n hummed.

Tom laughed. “Course. Well, thank you, I really thought Jack would be able to figure out another option, but I guess not”.

“To be fair, there’s a lot of seasonal festivals going on, and several movies and shows, as I’m sure you know, have recently resumed filming around here. So, I’m not surprised the decent hotels are booked,” y/n concluded. “Sorry you have to resort to crashing at some random girl’s house though,” she laughed.

“I’m not, you’re pretty good company,” Tom smiled.

“Well thank you,” y/n said, curtsying. “Now, what do you think about baked ziti for dinner?”

“That sounds delicious, can I help?” Tom questioned.

“Sure, I- oh,” y/n stopped as an unexpected knock echoed through her door. “Sorry, one sec,” she said and held up her pointer finger. She dashed to the door and looked in the hole. She smiled softly. She hadn’t seen Ryan in a while! So while his presence was unexpected, she was happy to finally see her boyfriend.

Y/n opened the door with a kind smile. “Hey Ry!” She greeted. “I’m glad to see you, I’ve missed-”.

“Hey,” Ryan grumbled, entering. “I’m starving. What’s the plan for dinner? Are you-,” he paused as his eyes reached the kitchen; where Tom was. “Who the hell is that?”

“I was going to get there,” y/n mumbled. She knew Ryan ignored her, but she didn’t know that Tom had caught her frustrated muttering. “This is Tom, he needed a place to lay low for a bit. Tom, this is Ryan,” she introduced.

“Her boyfriend,” Ryan muttered.

“He knows,” y/n defended with a frown as she watched Ryan.

“Y/n mentioned you”, Tom said to ease the tension for y/n. “It’s nice to meet you, mate,” he greeted, walking over to shake Ryan’s hand.

“How long is he staying here exactly?” Ryan questioned.

“Ry, you realize you’re talking about Tom as if he’s not right here,” y/n said, looking over at Tom apologetically.

“That’s not an answer,” Ryan pointed out.

Y/n’s frown grew. “It wasn’t meant to be. What’s wrong? You’re seemingly in a bad mood tonight,” she commented softly.

“Of course I’m in a bad mood,” Ryan huffed. “I’m starving and now, I’m standing here staring at some-wanna-be-actor who is wearing my clothes,” Ryan remarked rudely.

“Ryan!” Y/n scoffed. “Tom, I’m so sorry”.

“Don’t apologize to him,” Ryan huffed.

“Wh-what?! Ryan, stop. Please,” y/n whispered harshly, but the tense silence carried her voice between all three of them.

Ryan rolled his eyes. He gruffly pulled y/n to his side, his eyes still on Tom. “Did you pick up the salmon you said would be in today?” He asked her.

“No,” y/n sighed. “I’m sorry Ry, the shipment didn’t make it in before I got off. But, I can get it tomorrow,” she said brightly; hoping to turn the situation around.

“So we’re not having grilled salmon tonight?” Ryan groaned as he looked down at y/n.

“Well, no...” y/n replied hesitantly. “I didn’t… I didn’t even know…” She frowned.

Ryan just stared at y/n in complete silence.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t know you’d even be coming over,” y/n stated shyly. She bit her lip nervously as she stared apologetically at her boyfriend.

“Am I not allowed to surprise my girlfriend?” Ryan questioned, brow raised.

“No, of course that’s not what I’m saying Ry!” Y/n defended quickly. “I just,” she shrugged; embarrassed. She was even more embarrassed that Ryan was doing all of this in front of Tom; it suddenly felt like she was pathetic for what she was about to mention. “I don’t know.. I haven’t really heard from you much lately, you’ve been distant, and when I tried to bring it up-“

“We’re not talking about this right now y/n, you’ve clearly got company and I’m too tired to keep talking about this. You know I’m busy,” Ryan scolded.

“No, I know,” y/n agreed softly. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight,” she frowned. Was Ryan right, was she making Tom uncomfortable? She couldn’t bring herself to look over at Tom to check. “I’m sorry, it’s just been awhile since I’ve seen you”.

“Y/n,” Ryan groaned, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know you were coming for dinner, is all. Or that the reason you wanted me to get the salmon was for dinner for us. Much less tonight. I’m sorry,” y/n defended shyly, a dejected expression on her face.

Ryan shook his head lightly this time as if he was scolding a child. “It’s fine, but you really need to work on listening, communication is important in a relationship,” he commented.

“Right, course,” y/n said as she forced a polite smile, feeling a bit frustrated given the irony of Ryan’s criticism. “Anyways.. umm, I was thinking of baked ziti for dinner, how does that sound?” She asked with a light but hopeful smile and eyes that showed she just wanted to please Ryan.

“I was really looking forward to the grilled salmon I thought you’d be making,” Ryan told y/n simply.

Y/n frowned. “I know, but baked ziti is pretty good, no?”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t really planning on staying long anyways,” Ryan said, turning to part from y/n.

“Wait…What do you mean? You’re leaving?” Y/n questioned.

“I have things to do, babe, don’t be like this,” Ryan warned.

“Like wh-,” y/n began to ask, but stopped herself. She nodded and pursed her lips. “Okay”.

“Seriously? You’re mad?” Ryan asked rhetorically, his judgmental tone ringing in the air. “I don’t like pasta, you know that, babe, come on,” he said in a faux pleading manner as he pulled y/n to his side again. “I only came over to spend time with you before guys night, but since I have to figure something else out for dinner now, I need to go do that instead”.

Y/n simply nodded.

“Hey,” Ryan whined, “don’t be mad”.

“I’m not mad,” Y/n replied softly. She shook her head soft and slow.

Ryan sloppily kissed all over y/n’s exposed skin. “Good, I’ll see you later, babe,” he said giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t try anything,” he said, looking at Tom.

“Ryan!” Y/n groaned. When Ryan shut the door, she ran a hand down her face. “Tom, I’m.. I’m so s-”.

“Don’t,” Tom rushed softly. Y/n had done nothing wrong. She had nothing to apologize for. “You don’t need to apologize”.

“Ryan was a jerk to you,” Y/n argued, walking back to the kitchen, Tom following her.

He wasn’t just a jerk to me, Tom thought to himself. “I’ll live,” he promised, not wanting to upset y/n more. He’d seen the way she continued to feel worse the longer her boyfriend had been here. “Now, you were about to say what I could do to help you with the ziti?” He redirected.

“Holy Shit!” A voice screeched out, stopping y/n from asking Tom her next random question. They’d been chatting casually about anything and everything as they worked to get to know each other when the scream happened. Y/n and Tom snapped their heads towards the door where the sound originated. Y/n stifled a laugh upon seeing her lifelong best friend Karina standing in the entryway in obvious disbelief.

“Y-you’re… oh my god! You’re T-Tom Holland!” Karina mumbled loudly, her eyes widened.

“Karina,” y/n scolded softly as she rose from the couch. “Shh, just calm down,” she instructed, setting her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Karina’s head whipped back and forth between y/n beside her and Tom Holland on y/n’s couch. “Y/n/n, that’s… that’s Tom Ho-”.

Y/n instinctively placed her hand over Karina’s mouth. “Enough. You need to relax,” she replied. “You’re sounding a bit crazy right now”.

Karina huffed. “But…. but, that is him, y/n!”

“I know. It’s not a big deal,” y/n stated, trying to calm Karina.

“Uh what?! How is this not-” Karina protested energetically.

“Karina, you need to breathe and stay calm,” y/n instructed. “Tom is a welcome guest here and he doesn’t need your screaming and fangirling”.

Tom made his way over once he saw Karina start to calm down. “I’m terribly sorry to have startled you,” he apologized as he extended his hand in greeting.

Karina shook Tom’s hand. She was still looking between her friend and the celebrity in shock. “It’s fine,” she squeaked.

“Besides, she’s the one who entered without knocking,” y/n teased, despite it being a normal occurrence for her friend since she had a spare key.

“Yeah, expecting you to be alone!” Karina stated. “Not in here with,” she paused, trying to remain calm. “With, umm…him”.

Y/n shook her head and rolled her eyes lightly. “He’s just a regular person, Kar, he doesn’t need this reaction, okay?”

“It’s alright, y/n/n,” Tom smiled. “I’m used to it by now, obviously,” he said laughing and he smiled when y/n joined in.

“Obviously,” y/n echoed in agreement. “Are you done?” She asked Karina playfully.

Karina nodded. She then promptly walked to the kitchen.

Y/n glanced at Tom in silent confusion. They shared a look of mutual bewilderment before y/n turned to watch her friend again.

Karina took a water bottle down from the glass cupboard and filled it without speaking. She drank some water from it and took a derp breath before letting out a long and loud sigh. “I’m good,” she said.

Y/n laughed and shook her head as Karina returned to the living room. “Thank god,” she murmured, earning a playful glare from her friend. “You can’t tell anyone, by the way”.

“I thought it wasn’t a big deal,” Karina joked as she walked past Tom and y/n. She causally plopped onto the far side of the couch.

Y/n breathily laughed. “It’s not,” she agreed. “But that’s precisely why he’s here”.

Tom noticed Karina’s confusion as he and Y/n walked back over to the seating area of the living room. “Y/n saved me from a horde of screaming fans and paparazzi,” he explained.

“That some Wattpad kinda shit, right there,” Karina commented.

Y/n’s face heated up quickly. “Karina!” She scolded, only blushing more when Tom merely laughed.

“Just saying!” Katrina shrugged. “I was expecting to find you spending the night alone, since dickwad would surely be doing god knows what, but I was clearly wrong,” she hummed.

Y/n rolled her eyes at Karina’s ever-present dislike of Ryan.

But, Tom noticed the way y/n seemed to deflate. He resisted a frown and decided to change the topic back off of her boyfriend. “All I know is, I’m eternally grateful she was the one who found me and that I’ve got a calm place to stay for a bit,” he commented as he smiled at y/n appreciatively.

“Well, somewhat calm,” y/n joked, looking at Karina who just held hands up in surrender with a laugh.

“At least I got it out of my system,” Karina defended, causing everyone to laugh.

Tom’s phone began to ring making everyone stop. He pulled it out and scanned the screen for the caller ID. Seeing his brother’s name, he looked up apologetically. “I must take this, sorry loves,” he said with small smile as he made his way out of the room and to the guest room he’ll be staying in.

“‘ey mate,” Tom greeted as he answered the phone call from his brother and personal assistant, Harry. He closed the guest bedroom door behind himself before walking towards the bed.

“Where the bloody ‘ell are you?” Harry asked breathily.

Tom smiled softly over Harry’s loving concern. “Relax Baz, I’m alright,” he promised as he sat down on the blue comforter. “Jack didn’t tell you where I was?” He questioned.

“No, he did…., sorta,” Harry sighed. “He said you were ambushed by paparazzi and fans?”

Tom hummed, “yeah, they surrounded the hotel. And chased me several blocks, twice actually”.

“Fuck mate, I’m sorry. You’re alright now though? Where are you? How did you get away from all that?” Harry asked.

“I’m fine, Baz.. I’m uhhh…, I’m staying with a friend,” Tom commented.

“A friend? Tom, we’ve been in town for two days,” Harry chuckled. “I know you are desperate to find a place to hide out, but, I don’t think it’s wise to have a one night stand in order to do that,” he scolded playfully. It was all in good fun, Harry knew his brother Tom would never do something like that.

“Harry!” Tom scolded, brows furrowed. “It’s not like that! I wouldn’t do that. Especially not to y/n.”

“Y/n?” Harry inquired, voice ringing with intrigue.

Tom blushed and bit his lip. He felt like a little boy who had developed his first ever crush and had then been found out by his parents. “Y-yeah, she uhh, she’s really amazing,” he said softly.

Harry’s smirk could be heard in his tone. “Is she now?” “And how exactly did you meet this y/n?”

“She helped me escape from the fans and photographers,” Tom explained with a shy smile.

Harry hummed slowly, his smugness turning into slightly apprehensive appreciation to this stranger for having helped his brother. “Yeah, so she could have you all to herself,” he half-joked; still uncertain of the girl’s intentions.

Tom laughed. “No, it’s not like that either,” he promised. He smiled to himself as he laid back on the mattress. “She barely even acknowledged who I am,” he said admiringly. “She doesn’t really care that I’m Tom Holland, to her, I’m just Tom”.

Harry smiled lightly but then pursed his lips. “Mate, not to burst your bubble, but you barely know her. That could be an act… You know, act like she’s not ‘one of those girls’,” he warned with a sigh. He hated to be so pessimistic when his older brother sounded so happy. But, he had to protect him.

Tom nodded. He understood where his brother was coming from. But he was wrong. “I’m being smart, I promise,” he reassured Harry. “But, she’s truly just not interested in the fact that I’m an actor or celebrity, she doesn’t see me that way, or at least doesn’t see that as anything exciting”. He stretched his legs along the bed knowing his muscles would be tired and sore from earlier. “Besides, pretty certain only single girls would do that,” he commented with a faint frown.

“Oh,” Harry responded. “She’s got a boyfriend then?” He asked, starting to feel relieved. This likely was truly done in good faith then.

Tom pouted at the reminder. “Yeah,” he answered after a moment.

Now that Harry felt reassured about the situation, his intrigue and smugness returned to the foreground. He could once again be an annoying and intrusive younger brother about the situation.“You sound disappointed, mate,” he teased.

“I am,” Tom admitted. He winced upon realizing that he just confessed that to his younger brother. He and Harry were close, so it’s not like these conversations weren’t something they’d normally talk about. But, Tom was not really in the mood for the playful teasing he knew was now about to come his way.

“And why might that be, Tommy?” Harry smirked.

“He’s an arse,” Tom answered easily. He rolled his eyes in response to Harry’s teasing, even if his brother couldn’t actually see him do it.

“You’re so just saying that because you fancy her,” Harry chuckled.

Tom groaned. “No, I’m not,” he defended.

“Really? You’re truly going to claim that you’re not upset the guy is with the girl you fancy?” Harry pushed.

“Baz, it’s… Of course I’m not… thrilled.. that she has a boyfriend,” Tom admitted reluctantly. “But, I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s…,” he shook his head softly, “she’s so… I don’t know mate… She’s just such a good person..”

Harry chuckled softly. “Mate, just how hard have you fallen?”

“Piss off, Baz,” Tom griped. He felt a light headache start to form thanks to the tension in his forehead.

“I mean… Tom,” Harry smirked. “It’s been what? A day?”

Tom rolled his eyes yet again. “Anyways, back to Ryan,” he said. “The guys an arsehole, regardless of all that”.

Harry hummed smugly but resisted busting into more laughter. “You know the bloke’s name?” He questioned tauntingly as his already large smirk grew on his face.

After a brief silence, Tom huffed. It was all he offered in response to his brother Harry’s teasing question.

“Alright, alright,” Harry sighed despite the gleeful expression that was still on his face. “Why is this, Ryan, guy, such a tool?”

Tom perked up ever so slightly at the question. He had barely met the guy, knew practically nothing about him prior to his appearance earlier, and yet Tom already couldn’t stand Ryan. And, truly, it had nothing only a little to do with the fact that he was with y/n and Tom wasn’t. “Where do I begin?” Tom joked lightly. “First off, he cut her off immediately when she was greeting him as she opened her door for him, only to complain that he was hungry and wanted her to fix it,” he muttered.

“Eesh, alright, I’m starting to see why you don’t like the guy,” Harry acknowledged.

“That’s just the beginning, mate,” Tom huffed.

“Knock it off,” y/n laughed, shoving Karina’s feet off the top of her coffee table with her foot. “There’s still food up there, that’s gross,” she reprimanded lightly. When Karina shrugged and laughed, y/n shook her head lovingly before resting it on her friend’s shoulder. It had been far too long since she had girl time with Karina due to their busy schedules.

“Alright, I need the full story,” Karina grinned. “Play by play, do not skip anything!” She instructed, turning towards y/n. She glanced down the hallway, towards the guest bedroom that Tom Holland had gone into in order to take his phone call.

“Kar,” y/n groaned with a laugh. She sat back up as the process of Katrina shifting towards her had unintentionally knocked her resting head off her friend’s shoulder. “I thought you were done fangirling over him,” she said with a sigh.

“I am,” Karina promised with a smile. “But, doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about the insanity that surely unfolded today,” she argued.

“Tom and I already explained it,” y/n reminded Karina.

Karina pursed her lips as she fought the urge to smirk. “‘Tom and I,’” she quoted in whispered glee. “Okay, okay, but come on!” Karina defended when y/n groaned over her last comment. “Still the tea! No drop shall be left behind,” she joked, pulling her legs up onto the sectional and tucking them under her as she scooted closer to y/n.

Karina smirked. “What’s that pause about?” She teased. Y/n had just gotten done updating her on the time she had spent with Tom before he went to shower.

Y/n buried her face in her hands. She heard Karina’s laughter ring in the living room. Y/n prayed the couch would swallow her up so she could be done answering questions about this. She mumbled inaudibly into her palms as her cheeks started to heat up.

Karina pulled y/n’s hands down and away from her face. “Nuh uh, no hiding,” she scolded. “And certainly no mumbling,” she added with a smirk. “Now, what was it exactly you were saying?”

Y/n glared at Karina. “I… it was so embarrassing,” she sighed. “I… I was walking to bring him some of the clothes Ryan had left here since his were sweaty from having ran so much,” she began shyly.

Karina nodded encouragingly. “And..?”

“And,” y/n groaned. “I… I ran into Tom as he had just finished up in the shower…”

“You saw him naked?!” Karina gasped. Her eyes widened with such intensity it was comical.

“No!” Y/n whisper-yelled. She reached over and smacked Karina’s arm. “Shush!” She hissed. Her eyes darted to the guest bedroom, only looking back when she was sure Tom wasn’t filming it to check on the commotion.

“Right,” Karina agreed, taking a dramatically deep breath. She craned her neck over the edge of the sofa so she too could check the door to the guest bedroom to ensure Tom hadn’t heard. Satisfied they were still free to talk openly about y/n’s day, she relaxed and leaned back against the arm of the couch, a pillow now propped in her criss-crossed lap. “Go on,” she instructed with a grin.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her loving annoyance was quickly overpowered by the return of her embarrassment. “He wasn’t naked,” she corrected with a stern look at Karina. “But…,” she trailed off.

“But…?” Karina pushed, unconsciously leaning forward against the pillow on her lap.

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek. “He was.. shirtless,” she admitted, feeling the temperature of her cheeks increase yet again. She faintly heard Karina’s whispered squeak and gleeful giggles. “Kar! It was so embarrassing!” She whined.

“What?! Why?” Karina asked in absolute disbelief. “How could seeing Tom Holland shirtless, in person, in your apartment might I add, be embarrassing?” She questioned.

Y/n frowned. “Stop doing that, he’s just a normal person, that’s got to be so annoying to have people treat you differently because you’re famous,” she sighed.

Karina smiled warmly. “You’re right, sorry,” she nodded. “But, I still need to know why seeing such an unbelievably hot man like Tom shirtless would be embarrassing!”

Y/n looked away as she painfully bit into the skin on the inside of her left cheek. “That’s just it…. I wasn’t expecting it,” she defended weakly. “And like… I mean… it was wrong. I have a boyfriend,” y/n explained guiltily.

Karina sighed. “It’s not like you sought him out,” she defended, “it wasn’t your fault he was shirtless”.

Y/n nodded. “I know.. but… it’s just..,” she sighed. “He.. he was so toned,” she confessed, squeezing her eyes shut. When Karina squealed excitedly, y/n opened her eyes and shook her head. “Kar, I can’t go around thinking that. I have a boyfriend for God’s sake! What’s wrong with me?” She asked, tears forming in her eyes.

“Woah, y/n,” Karina frowned. She tossed the pillow on the floor and brought her friend to her. “That’s completely normal. It’s not like you acted on anything!” She started. “Really,” she added when she heard y/n weakly ask if she was being truthful in her reassurance. “Besides, your boyfriend is a dick. So even if you had been looking-looking-”.

Y/n leaned back and frowned. “Karina,” she groaned. Her tears had dried up but now she was upset for a different reason. It was no secret her best friend wasn’t a fan of y/n’s boyfriend Ryan. But, y/n didn’t want to talk about that; about him. Things always got sad whenever Ryan was brought up, even on Karina’s more generous (to Ryan) days. It was always like this dark rain cloud that hung above them.

“Okay, I’ll stop, after this one thing,” Karina promised with a timid smile. “I just don’t think I’d be doing my due diligence as your best friend, if I didn’t point out that Tom would treat you so much better than Ryan does”. “You might actually find yourself enjoying being in a relationship,” she commented knowingly.

“I don’t not enjoy being in a relationship,” y/n argued.

“That is so not the same as actually enjoying it,” Karina commented tenderly. “You deserve to be with someone who actually spends time with you, will take you on proper dates, and-”.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want us getting into the whole analysis of Ryan’s behaviors again,” y/n mumbled. “I know he’s not the best, but… he’s trying,” she defended weakly. “Besides, like I said, doesn’t matter, cause you’re comparing a real situation to an imaginary one,” y/n huffed.

“It doesn’t have to be imaginary though,” Karina declared. “Just think about it, that’s all,” she requested. “I just had to say it, it’s up to you if you want to do something with the possibility”.

Y/n stared at Karina in both frustration and disbelief. “It’s not a possibility,” she stated. “Even if I were single,” she added upon seeing Karina was about to clarify her position.

“Girl!” Karina huffed with a large smile. She shook her head at her friend’s naïveté. “He so finds you hot!” She gushed.

“Karina, no he doesn’t. Come on, he could be with anyone, literally any actress or model would fall to their knees for him, why would he be even remotely interested in me as anything other than maybe a friend?” Y/n pointed out rhetorically.

Karina scoffed. “I know you did not just say that”. She squinted at y/n in frustration but shifted gears as she caught onto something. “Wait, weren’t you the one was just saying how he is just like anyone else? And to not treat him or look at him as a celebrity?” She smirked.

Y/n sighed, her shoulders deflating. She meant it. But she also simultaneously meant what she said about how and why Tom wouldn’t be romantically interested in her. “He is…” She sighed. “I’m just saying, he could be with anyone, so he wouldn’t choose me; so this is all irrelevant”.

“Why not? You’re insanely beautiful, funny as hell, the sweetest cinnamon roll I’ve ever met, and your body is-” Karina began to list off.

“Karina!” Y/n giggled.

Karina just smiled proudly.

Y/n smiled back. “I appreciate that, I do,” she nodded. “Just because you see it, doesn’t mean everyone else does,” she said with a shrug. She bit the inside of her lip as she worked to fight off the thoughts that were clouding her mind with the various times Ryan had made her feel that way with his actions or words before. This wasn’t about Ryan.

“Girl, please! He’s been checking you out,” Karina scoffed.

“No he hasn’t!” Y/n gasped.

“Yes, he has. He so has!” Karina argued.

“Karina-,” y/n protested.

“I’m serious! If you’d installed those security cameras I told you to buy for your apartment, you’d be able to go back and watch to see for yourself! But I swear, I’ve lost count of how many times I caught Tom sneaking glances at you and I’ve only been here a few hours!” Karina stated firmly. “You’ve been with him all day, so there’s surely been even more!”

Y/n shook her head. “You’re insane”. “You’ve officially lost your mind,” she argued.

“I am not, that’s just rude,” Karina joked. “Hmmmm…,” she began, looking off into the distance dramatically as if daydreaming.

“What?” Y/n giggled.

“It’s too bad you won’t go for it,” Karina mumbled. She sighed loudly. She softened her eyes as she continued to pretend to daydream. “I wonder what he’s like in bed”.

“Karina!” Y/n screeched. She was used to Karina’s boldness, but this wasn’t expected!

“What?!” Karina huffed.

Y/n scoffed and stared in silent disbelief at the outspoken comment.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it!” Karina argued. “I saw how you reacted to even just recalling having seen him shirtless on accident”.

Y/n bit her inner lip aggressively as she tried to keep up her scolding glare.

“You’ve so thought about it!” Karina sang. “I mean, after all, he is ‘so toned’,” she recited y/n tauntingly.

“I hate you,” Y/n muttered with an embarrassed laugh as she chucked a pillow at her gleeful best friend. “Shut up Kar!” She scoffed as her friend continued to laugh loudly and echo her own words back to her yet again. “He’s going to hear you!” She groaned leaning over to wrestle her friend into silence.

“Karina!” Y/n groaned as she bashfully buried her face in the oversized throw pillow on her lap. She heard Tom’s soft laughter and Karina’s prideful humming. Her best friend had just finished telling Tom yet another slightly embarrassing story about y/n from years ago.

Tom shook his head lightly as he gazed over at y/n. He could barely see her hair over the top of the charcoal colored pillow hiding her face. “It’s not that bad,” he encouraged warmly with a grin. Tom’s grin grew as y/n timidly peaked out from behind her pillow shield. “Truly, love, it’s nothing compared to the stories my brother Harry would tell about me,” he chuckled.

Y/n lowered the pillow to her lap as a smirk made its way to her once-bashful face. “Really?” She questioned. When Tom blushed and offered a shy nod, she bit her lip. “I think Karina and I have shared far too many embarrassing secrets about each other with you, considering we’ve not gotten anything in exchange,” she hummed.

Tom chuckled and bit into the right corner of his bottom lip. “I.. I told you about that time in primary when I nearly broke my leg,” he argued.

Y/n shook her head, but Karina spoke up before she could. “I agree, you could be giving a minor story compared to what your brother evidently has on you,” Karina agreed. “I think we ought to hear it from the younger brother, no?” She asked playfully as she spun to face y/n.

Y/n nodded. “I agree, Kar,” she replied easily with a smile.

Tom laughed and facepalmed. “I did this to myself,” he muttered lightly.

“Yes, yes you did,” y/n giggled.

It took a few minutes, but soon the group had Tom’s iPhone casting to y/n’s television. This allowed them all to view Harry’s responses/stories as soon as they came in. He wasn’t able to take a call as he was actually on the phone with his twin, Sam, already. But, that actually worked in the girls’ favor since it meant there were two brothers trying to recall and determine which embarrassing stories to provide them with. And boy did it work in their favor! It didn’t take long for the girls (and Tom, despite his deep crimson blush of slight embarrassment) to be laughing so hard they were nearly in tears.

Karina stealthily watched Tom as y/n excited the room. Her friend had just excused herself in order to go get more snacks for herself, Karina, and Tom. Karina had been watching y/n and Tom closely all night. After all, the two of them had been learning a lot about each other and getting along incredibly well.

Truthfully, Karina was impressed with how quickly Tom had been able to make y/n feel comfortable enough to share her story with him. She knew how reserved y/n was about explaining her childhood. Y/n felt uncertain sharing those details so much so that her boyfriend Ryan hadn’t even known until they’d been dating for two months. Yet, y/n had met Tom just earlier today and had opened up a lot already. Karina was happy that y/n was so comfortable around someone other than Karina herself. She was also proud of her friend for being able and willing to share her story with Tom so soon. She was already impressed when y/n opened up about being an only child, and even more so when y/n added that she was the daughter of a single mom. But for y/n to have felt comfortable answering Tom’s follow-up questions about how that impacted her and y/n explaining those struggles to him was something excitingly unusual. Again, these weren’t things Karina’s friend y/n shared often, much less with people she hadn’t known for a while prior. Karina was also thrilled that y/n actually wanted to share her story with someone and that said person, Tom, was so receptive and genuinely interested in hearing it. Karina never commented on it, not wanting to deter y/n from voicing her feelings and thoughts about her childhood, but she knew y/n’s boyfriend Ryan didn’t care to hear about it. She knew y/n was aware that Ryan didn’t want to talk about it; as the girl had mentioned it before when explaining to Karina why she didn’t feel she could go to Ryan about these things. But, y/n had always defended Ryan by saying he just didn’t like hearing that she struggled with things back then because ‘he cared about her’. When in reality, Karina knew it was a lack of interest and empathy; not Ryan feeling overly emotional about y/n’s past struggles.

Karina was also pleased when Tom opened up about his own upbringing in return. She had easily noticed the way y/n’s face lit up as she learned about his family. It was obvious y/n was interested in his life the way he was interested in hers. Karina had to fight off a prideful smirk as she had watched the two of them learn such personal things about each other; impressed with the depth and intensity of their conversations.

As such, the second y/n had announced she was going to go to the kitchen for a moment, Karina knew she had to look over at Tom to see his reaction. Of course, he’d jumped up and offered to help y/n. And, of course, y/n smiled and thanked him but declined his offer. Karina nearly giggled gleefully at the exchange as Tom questioned if y/n was sure.

Once y/n had truly begun to depart from the living room on her mission to get snacks, Karina watched Tom deflate ever so slightly before sitting back down. Her head unconsciously tilted to the left as she smugly watched him gaze over at y/n as she left. She knew it. The infatuated look in his eyes only heightened her excitement.

Tom forced himself to look away from y/n’s departing frame. He turned back to the living room, ready to make small talk with her friend; Karina. Only, as he faced forward again, he realized he’d been caught. His face flushed maroon, eyes widened, and he sucked in a stiff breath. He quickly looked away from Karina as he cleared his throat, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Karina silently smirked at Tom as she waited for him to come up with some weak excuse for what she’d witnessed. Only, he never did. He just sat there, building the awkward silence between them. It hit Karina that, while Tom was embarrassed over unexpectedly being caught, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t interested in y/n. The way he recovered from his brief nervousness over being caught yet still seemed uncertain on what to say, made Karina realize something else. It made her realize Tom likely didn’t want it to seem as though he should, nor as if he thought he should, feel embarrassed about having eyes for y/n. Karina’s smirk grew and when y/n walked in cluelessly, it took everything in her to not burst into laughter.

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

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[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: 6x18 was the third time the audience watched their relationship movie

Several people have commented on 911blr, other social media platforms and post-mortem interview articles about the way the audience saw this movie before at the end of season 4 with Buck/Taylor and Eddie/Ana. However, the truth is, it’s the third time the audience has witnessed their dating fiascos.

Buck always follows Eddie’s lead which makes it seem like Buck is waiting on Eddie to let him know he’s an option.  If Eddie’s not dating or attempting to date neither is Buck.  Buck starts dating the very next episode after Eddie does and it’s happened three times and the timeline below proves it.

In 2x7 “Haunted” Buck finally let go of Abby in the same episode that Eddie reconnected with Shannon. Then in 2x8 “Buck Actually” Buck started dating Ali.

Neither of them dated in season 3.

In 4x6 “Jinx” Eddie started dating Ana and in 4x7 “There Goes the Neighborhood” Buck got back onto the dating apps and had a disastrous date with Veronica.  Then he started to heavily pursue Taylor in 4x8 “Breaking Point” but she friend zoned him until after Eddie was shot and she told him she wanted him in 4x14 “Survivors”.

Neither of them dated in 6A.

In 6x14 “Performance Anxiety” Eddie’s aunt set him up on a blind date and in 6x15 “Death and Taxes” Buck said Natalia sees him followed by Eddie giving him a look filled with hurt.  So, Eddie started pursuing Marisol because he thought Buck rejected him again just like he thought Buck did after the will reveal in 4x14.

Once I realized this, I remembered Karen’s comment to Hen in 5x17 “Hero Complex”, “Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence and three times is a pattern”.  Their relationship fiascos with these one dimensional women keep happening and this is the third time which means it’s a pattern.

Does this mean they’ll be together in season 7, PROBABLY NOT but isn’t it interesting that even though the creators and more than likely the showrunners knew they would be cancelled after season 6 but they chose not to make them CANON?

Since they knew they were going to be cancelled they didn’t have anything to lose if they had made Buck and Eddie a CANON couple unless they wanted to stall/delay it yet again.  Therefore, it could mean they were already in talks with Disney months before they told the cast about the switch from Fox to ABC.  Let’s be real for a minute because a deal like that doesn’t happen overnight since there are a lot of legalities and financials that have to be sorted and decided which could mean the 9-1-1 creators and Disney were in talks for months.  Also, it’s possible they were required to sign an NDA (Non-disclosure agreement) stating they wouldn’t release the information until May 1, 2023 when the official announcement was made, hence the reason why the cast wasn’t notified until two hours before the 9-1-1 Fox Cancellation story was released.

This speculation doesn’t dismiss the creators’ or the showrunners’ actions/agendas for 6x18 but all of this seems to be very suspect.  Also, viewers can voice their constructive criticisms about the show they enjoy watching on their own blogs so the creators of that TV show will know their audience isn’t happy and that’s the goal of my posts regarding my lack of enjoyment with season 6 overall.  Since it’s evident they’ve been reading fanfics, it’s possible they read posts and comments too, otherwise how else would they know what the audience thinks about the show they created for entertainment purposes?

Being frustrated with the outcome doesn’t mean anyone should be rude to the actors, actresses, writers and producers because they don’t have the final say.

Disclaimer:  I’m UNSURE if I will watch season 7 and to be honest if I do, I WON’T watch it live.  I won’t know for a while because I’m still reeling from the things that happened in 6x18 but after last night’s dust finally settled (for me at least), I read some wonderful speculation posts here on 911blr this morning and the users analyzed a lot of things I missed during my live watch because I was SUPER PISSED.  I didn’t even watch the last few minutes because it felt so RIDICULOUS and I won’t rewatch that episode again.  LIKE EVER!

For me, season 6 ended at 6x13 “Mixed Feelings” so when and if I feel like writing fanfic again (I probably will because I love writing it but I’ll take a few days to decide) I will act like 6x14-6x18 never existed.

[reachingforthevoid]

Addendum to Doctor Who: Big Blue Yonder

Liking something is subjective, which is part of the reason why I rarely take a story to task in my mini-reviews. This story left me bored, aside from a few moments of visually exciting material. Yet, just about everyone I know loved it and were buzzing about how good it was hours after first watching it.

They were talking about stuff I didn’t notice. Loads of stuff.

And that made me stop and think. 

And then I realised that for most of it I couldn’t hear the dialogue. Or, to be precise, my brain wasn’t processing the sounds I could hear into meaningful speech. Just about the entire story to me was “blah blah blah” with the occasional clear word. It was incomprehensible gibberish, literally, to me.

One of the many things I learned when I went through the process of discovering that I’m autistic involved sensory processing differences. I’ve a few, but one of the main ones is auditory, and it’s complicated by the fact that I’m going deaf. My hearing was damaged when I was a young teenager and had several grommets put in to drain build up behind my eardrums. The specialist told me what to expect back then, and it’s happening a little later than anticipated. 

Over my 55 years I’ve learned how to compensate for both these facts. I rely a lot on lipreading, and body language. It’s one reason why I don’t like phone calls unless I already know I can process a person’s voice or not. It’s also why video calls exhaust me, because so much of the non-verbal cues are obscured.

Sometimes the sound mix on TV or film makes it really hard for me to follow a story. Subtitles have become a necessity for quite a few things, but not everything. Bad subtitles are exhausting, too, and most subtitles aren’t great.

I realised late last night that I cannot process David Tennant’s voice when he plays the Doctor (I can when he talks “normally”; it’s not an accent thing, incidentally, but a role dependent thing), and I cannot process Catherine Tate’s voice when she plays Donna Noble. I struggle with some of her other characters, too.

How do I know it’s them doing those roles in particular? The pre-credit sequence in Wild Blue Yonder involved other actors playing other parts, and I had no trouble with them. I did with Tennant and Tate in that scene. (Although I gather what I heard of the “joke” made more sense than what was actually said. Not all bad, then.) The same happened at the end with a certain other actor who I could understand clearly.

How have I not noticed it before? Because there have always been other actors and characters I could understand and the context meant that missing what they said didn’t matter so much. An hour’s story in which the vast majority of the talk — and there was so much talk! — was between two actors playing characters that I can’t process what they say… Yeah… it became impossible for me to ignore.

Solution? I’ll have to use subtitles and hope they can do the job.

Oh, it’s not purely a Tennant Doctor and Tate Donna problem. There are other actors/characters, radio announcers, and people I know in-person, who I struggle with. It’s literally a “me thing”.

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Inspired by this prompt from  @wisteria-whump

-----

“I suggest you leave,” the team leader said, drawing their weapon.

“You wound me.” The villain stalked forward. “Did you really think me the type to abandon my own?”

The entire room froze.

The hero burst out from behind their teammates, the words “I’m not yours” ready on their tongue.

“Oh my god.” The villain’s eyes moved over the bruises on the hero’s arms, the bandages around their midsection. “[Hero], what did they do to you?”

It only then dawned on the hero what the villain was doing.

Predictably, one of the protagonist’s teammates – a young guy named Ron – glanced at them. “But you said . . . ”

“[Villain]’s the one who gave me these wounds!” the hero cried. “Don’t believe them!”

“Are you okay, [Hero]?” the villain asked. They stepped forward, hand cautiously rising. “Please, sit down. That looks serious.”

The hero shot a pleading gaze at their various teammates. They were met with looks of confusion, or worry. At least nobody seemed to be jumping to believe the villain. The protagonist felt their shoulders begin to loosen.

“I did find your story a little off,” a voice said.

The hero spun around. Leia.

“Nobody asked your opinion,” the hero growled.

Leia peeled off the far wall, uncrossing her arms. “[Villain] captures you, without setting off any of our alarms. There’s no ransom note, no gloating. We don’t hear from you for months. Then one day, you just show up again, and refuse to talk about what happened. I’m just saying, it’s fishy.”

The hero almost wanted to laugh. None of that was their fault. And was it really so hard to imagine why they might not want to talk about their time with the villain?

“Leia, that’s not fair,” the team leader said. “And it’s not enough reason to suspect [Hero].”

“There was also the strangeness with [Hero]’s injuries,” another teammate – the medic – said. “Cutting and bruising isn’t [Villain]’s M.O.”

The hero saw the subtle shift on their teammates’ faces, as a film of wariness settled over them.

“Have you all lost your minds?!” The hero’s voice rose. “What are you even accusing me of? Of being [Villain]’s plant? If I’m working with them, why would they come back here and tip you all off?”

“[Hero], I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” the villain said. “The mission is over. I’m here to get you out.”

The hero turned on them. “Stop lying!”

“Please, [Hero], I’m sorry we argued. Just drop the act already. I miss you, and I want you to come home.”

“Shut up!”

“Okay,” the team leader said, raising their hands. “We’re going to talk this through, as a group. But first, let’s take care of [Villain]. Then we can – ”

They hurtled backwards in a burst of light, after the villain shot them in the chest.

“If [Hero] isn’t on my side,” the villain said, grinning, “then how would I know that [Team Leader]’s true weakness is lasers?”

Someone shouted, and the team all launched at the villain.

The villain threw a smoke bomb on the ground, and the area flooded with mist.

The hero turned frantically, whirling, trying to see shapes in the murkiness. A fist punched the wound on their back, and they collapsed with a howl of pain.

“Let’s go, beautiful,” the villain said. Arms encircled the hero from behind.

The hero looked up. They saw Ron several feet away, staring with a dumbstruck expression. The hero reached for him.

The villain pulled the hero closer, and placed a long, passionate kiss on their neck.

The hero saw a shadow pass over Ron’s expression. “Have fun with [Villain], traitor.”

And then he disappeared into the mist.

----

“You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that.”

“You give me too much credit.” The villain’s voice was cheery as they typed coordinates into the navigation program. “I hardly had to do anything at all.”

The hero glared down at their manacles. “Well you’re stupid, in addition to being a liar, if you think this is going to stop me.”

The villain leaned over and punched them across the mouth. The hero tasted blood.

“I didn’t lie about one thing.” The villain grinned. “I did miss you.”

Then they kissed the hero, pressing into the wound they’d just created. “And I’ll be ecstatic to have you home again.”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me || John 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem!OC

Chapter 1: I Knew You Were Trouble

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

John 'Soap' Mactavish wasn't thrilled to be given an escort mission to bring a young woman halfway across the world to a secret safe house especially when he has to pretend to be her husband. At least she's pretty.

Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

CW: N/A for this chapter

Words: 1.9k

“So, what’s the brief?” Soap strutted into the meeting room, stopping in his tracks realizing it was just Kate Laswell and Cpt. Price waiting for him. They both looked severe, even more so than usual.

Gaz and Ghost were missing which was odd. There were no papers, files, or even a laptop on the table. Just the three of them.

“Sit,” Laswell said. The meeting room was slightly larger than a broom closet with a square fold-out table and chairs. He sat opposite Price with Laswell in the middle. “After consideration of all 141 members, Cpt. Price and I have chosen you for an escort mission.”

“Babysitting?” He couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“It’s more important than that. I need you to get a witness to a safe house up in British Columbia.”

‘Jesus bleeding christ’ he thought ‘do I have to hold their hand on the plane?’ “This is completely off the books. This is a personal safe house, it’s not affiliated with any agency. This person does not exist outside this room, do you understand?”

Off the books? That piqued his interest. He looked towards Price, unreadable as ever. Laswell looked antsy almost. Her eyes darted towards the door a lot, even for CIA.

“I have taken a girl into my personal protection. I need you to take her from London to Canada using only civilian means. You will pick her up tomorrow morning from a hotel and escort her the entire way. There will be a drop in New York that will have a gun, emergency radio, and a couple of other things you might need. You’ll rent a car at the airport. You are to drive the rest of the way.”

“A girl? Like a kid?”

“She’s a kid to me. She’s your age, maybe older maturity-wise.”

“Why not fly her all the way there?”

“This is witness protection. She’s lucky she made it this far already.” She lowered her voice. “The two of you are the only ones I am trusting with knowledge of this. I can’t trust anyone from the CIA, DOD, MI6, or MOD.”

“Why me?” “Ghost won’t take off the mask so she would never trust him.” Soap imagined a fully geared Ghost sitting in a classic American diner booth across from a frightened little lass and had to stop himself from chuckling.

“Soap, this is extremely important to me. I promised her I would keep her safe. She’s already had one attempt on her life when Price moved her the last time.”

“She can handle herself well but no one can take a bullet to the head.” Price said. Soap noticed the fresh bandage on his left arm, it was already bleeding through the gauze.

“Who’s trying to kill ‘er?”

“That’s classified.”

“But how can I protect her if I don’t know what to look for.” He countered but she looked unamused.

“We’ve already lost someone getting her to this point." Price said.

“MacTavish, once you step into that hotel you will become George McIntosh, a newlywed software engineer taking his wife on their cross-country honeymoon road trip.”

“Newlywed?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“It’s easiest to explain why two young people are taking the scenic route across the country.”

“Listen, I’m a soldier, not an actor.”

“You never did a school play?”

“Aye, I was the best tree they could have had.”

“You’ll be given a packet to study along with a passport, $5,000 in USD. There will be a pickup location in New York where you will get a standard-issued pistol. I can get you past security and customs but once you leave you are on your own. Once she is secure, you will drive back over the border and be exfild back to London. You will check in every 48 hours with Captain Price using a satellite phone. He and I are putting our full trust in you to get this girl somewhere safe.” “I can do that.” It wasn’t ideal. He much rather something more exciting than babysitting but the severeness of Laswell’s tone showed there was something else going on. He could do it. Get from point A to point B. He wondered about what it was that she did that reasoned for this much secrecy. “You can count on me, ma’am.” It was decided that he and Price would drive to the hotel before dawn the next morning.

Soap felt like a twat and a tourist. He was dressed in jeans and a plain tv show. Price and he rode the elevator up from the parking garage up to her floor. He was given a rolling suitcase and backpack. No kit allowed. Going to work in civilian clothes felt unnatural. He’d read his packet in the car. It wasn’t anything difficult to remember. He was from Glasglow, went to Edinburgh University, worked as a software engineer, and had just married his long-time sweetheart, Grace. Grace and George, he said a silent prayer for any future children Laswell might have with her naming conventions.

Price stopped him in the hallway, placing a hand on his shoulder. They’d gone over the mission several times but this felt more serious.

“She’s been through a lot, Soap. I know you’re probably curious but don’t ask her about anything.”

“Yes, Sir.” He nodded.

“And please don’t sleep with her.” He squeezed his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t think of it.”

Price knocked on the door. Three sets of two. He stepped back so he could be seen by the peephole.

“You ready?” he asked through the door. He heard the chain come down and he sucked in a breath when the door opened. Price’s last request made a bit more sense now. She was pretty with big brown eyes and her blonde hair pinned back. She was wearing all black with a long jacket. He felt underdressed now. She smiled weakly at Price and gave him a side hug.

“As I’ll ever be.” She had a matching rolling case and had slung her backpack over the handle. He should have thought of that. She looked him over and held out a hand.

“So you’re my new husband.” Her delivery was decidedly neutral with pursed lips. She didn’t look angry but she wasn’t jumping for joy about him either.

“Yeah, Sergent John Mactavish.” He shook her hand as Price whacked his arm.

“You are George McIntosh. She is Grace McIntosh. Nothing else.” He warned. Soap nodded, remembering his role. He took her bag and they headed back down. He tried to act like a good husband, opening any doors for her and refusing to let her carry her own bags.

“Before I forget.” Price said, opening up the center console. “These are for you two.”

He gave Grace a red velvet bag. She pulled out three rings. She slid on the smaller wedding band and the engagement ring and gave him the wider band.

“Guess it’s official now.” He said, putting it on.

Check-in and security went smoothly. She was good at this, taking any and all comments in stride. Talking in line to an older woman about how excited she was to be going to New York with her husband, showing off the rings. She had a posh accent with a twinge of something he didn’t recognize. She talked like an old person, too. Using words he only heard his parents or higher-ups use.

It wasn’t until they sat by the windows, waiting for boarding that she noticed she was shaking, her eyes filling with tears.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered. He knew it was a lie but he would do his damndest to keep that promise. “We’ll get there okay.”

“You’re not the first to say that.” She said, turning away from him.

“Any refreshments?” the flight attendant asked. They’d finally taken off after 2 hours of sitting on the tarmac. The delays had made him anxious. Off the books, witness protection was what Laswell said. Get her to a safe house on the other side of the world. That was the mission.

“What do you have alcohol-wise?” She asked, leaning over him. She, Grace or whatever her real name was, was to be his new wife for the next couple of days.

“It’s a bit early.” He said. He didn’t want to babysit a drunk and shepherd her through JFK in a couple of hours.

“It’s our honeymoon, love. I want to celebrate.” She squeezed his shoulder, it wasn’t a completely affectionate move.

“Oh, congrats you two! I’ll actually get you something special. Give me a couple of minutes.”

“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” She was a good actress, he thought. As soon as the attendant walked away Grace turned to glare at him.

“Maybe don’t jump on the overbearing husband bit quite yet.” It was the most she’d said to him since they met a couple hours ago.

“It’s 9 am.”

“I’m jetlagged.” He chuckled at that, at least she was funny on occasion. He wasn’t allowed a full brief on why she needed protection. He was thinking of a retort when she looked at his hand and frowned.

“You’re wearing yours wrong.” She said. “What?” He looked at her confused.

“Give me your hand.” She didn’t wait for a reply. She took his right hand and slid the ring off.

“It’s a ring. How do I wear it wrong?”

“You’re wearing it on the wrong hand. It goes on your left.”

“Does it matter?”He asked, trying to pull away. She grabbed his wrist tightly though. She was stronger than she looked.

“It’s closest to your heart.” She said, placing it back on his left hand. “We’re married. Act like it.”

“If we were actually married I’d like to think we’d be doing something a bit more enjoyable than sitting here.” She kicked him in the side of the leg at that.

“Bleedin Christ, woman.” He kicked her back. She slapped his shoulder in retaliation and he grabbed her wrist before she could fully recoil. She grabbed his forearm and soon they were struggling against each other. They couldn’t afford to get kicked off this plane and soon came to a standstill, holding on to each other in tense silence.

“On the count of three, we’ll both let go. Okay?” He said. She nodded, glaring at him. She sucked on her teeth when she was angry. She was kind of cute when she was angry. “1,2,3.”

They both let go, turning away from each other.

“I’m sorry.” She was the first to say it which surprised him, he wasn’t going to apologize. “It’s been a rough fucking week.”

She was staring out the window now. She kept drifting like that. He could see in her eyes she was somewhere else entirely. He knew the look, she was constantly running away from her own memories. He wanted to ask. He wished he’d asked Price. Why her? What did she do? What happened to her? Was it something she heard or saw? Something she did?

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be a better husband.” He wanted to make her laugh again, he was glad it worked even if it was a small one.

The flight attendant came back with a tiny bottle of champagne. “Cheers?” He asked, holding out a plastic cup to her. She took it and knocked it into his, sloshing a bit. “To our wonderful honeymoon.” She rolled her eyes but drank.

She knocked out soon after, pulling the collar of her coat up over her face. He pulled the window shade down and let her sleep. It was an eight-hour flight and she looked like she could use the rest. He’d wake her up when they landed. He turned his body to face the aisle and fell asleep shortly after her.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! This is my first fic in years and my first time posting on AO3. S/O to my friends who both beta read and have pointed out the MW2 display every time we go to Target. You can also find me on Tumblr under the same username. I post headcanons and other things there. I'm really excited for this story. I hope to post chapter 3 later this week and do 2+ chapters a week depending on work and school. Thank you again so much for giving this a try. P.S. There will be smut later, I promise.

[wonderhoy-dump]

Missing Scene from Chapter 8 of Tsukasa Tenma’s Timeline to the Left

“I’m done setting up the cones! Now will you finally tell me what we’re blocking off this entire section for?”

Rui strides up to the band stage where Tsukasa is waving him over.

“Tsk tsk, why so testy, Tsukasa? I thought you said you trusted me?”

“I do, I do! This is my excited face! I’m excited about you adding a whole new staging setup less than a week before our show goes live. So excited!”

“Hm. Perhaps we should first work on the cogency of your improv skills.”

Tsukasa instantly turns red and sputtery at the jab. Their lead actor is almost too easy to rile up these days—takes all the fun out of it, honestly. 

Rui calms him down with some appeasing hand gestures and directs him back to where the cones first began, near the entrance to the plaza area. 

“I was thinking about your comments from the other day,” Rui narrates as they walk, “about how the action scene doesn’t enthrall the audience enough. Well, you were right. My original staging did not serve the chase scene in a way that would make this show or story truly great. Unfortunately, I don’t have much experience working with a cast of non-robotic troupe members, and I struggled to develop a solution befitting the strengths and skills of the Wanderers.”

“Rui…”

“Thankfully,” —he breezes forward— “that matter was quickly resolved once I realized I am no longer alone in the show creation process. Emu was kind enough to offer her suggestions, several of which I found immensely intriguing and have since made into reality.”

“You got Emu to share an idea with you!? What did she come up with!?”

Although irked by Tsukasa’s volume, Rui still smiles because he can’t help feeling a little proud of that accomplishment. 

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” 

With a grand gesture, he sweeps Tsukasa’s attention to behind the back plaza, where Emu is darting over the bushes with superhuman leaps. 

The high-powered mechanical exoskeleton Rui had finished up for her is greatly enhancing her already monstrous athletic abilities. Nene stands to the side, filming video of Emu’s movements so Rui can assess for adjustments later. 

Tsukasa gawks at the scene. 

“What. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Bunny Power Suit!”

“Bunny Power Suit? Is that what you’re calling the Star Training Suit?”

“Your Rui calls it the Star Training Suit?”

“Because I’m the one he makes wear it! H-He once had me jumping Olympian-style hurdles all day in that thing!”

“Well then. Good news for you: Emu was so excited about the ‘robot suit’ she saw when visiting my workshop, I resized everything for her to use in this show. So I guess you won’t be subjected to my invention in this world, Tsukasa.”

“Oh. Right. Uh, cool. But what does all that mean for the finale scene?”

Rui chuckles. “Thank you for that perfect setup.”

He snaps three times in a predefined pattern. Emu’s head whips around.

“Ms. Bounty Hunter: Mr. Alien has been located,” Rui delivers his lines in a commanding character voice. He levels a gloved hand at an alarmed Tsukasa. “Capture by any means necessary.”

“Roger that, captain!”

“Wait, wait, we’re doing the chase scene here? I thought—AURGHHAH!!!” 

Tsukasa narrowly dodges a bullet-speed Emu, who overshoots her strike by quite a bit and ends up racing nearly to the other end of the plaza due to excess momentum. 

“WHAT WAS THAT!?!”

“Oh, you do have nice reflexes. That will serve you well today.”

“Rui! What’s happening!? What are we doing!?”

“Right, so this pathway you’ve fenced off,” Rui begins to explain, as Nene runs to help Emu regain control of the suit, “the alien bounty hunter will be chasing her alien past the back stands, through the plaza, all the way up to the spaceship. See, instead of starting the ‘chase’ on the stage, Emu thought it would be more invigorating to put a chase through the park itself and end it on the stage.”

Tsukasa's panicked expression is instantly replaced with consideration as he processes the idea. 

“Huh. Wait, that’s clever. It takes advantage of the street show setting by making the action more immersive.”

“Correct. Fencing off this path should help us do that safely by keeping visitors out of the way.” 

“I see... I knew Emu had it in her for a great idea! But why is the Star Suit necessary?”

“Bunny Suit,” Rui corrects. “And that part is because the bounty hunter has to present as a major threat to the alien. I mean sure, Emu does judo, kickboxing, and parkour—”

“Kickboxing?”

“—but the audience doesn’t know that! Her suit capabilities and awesome mech appearance help establish her immediately as someone who can destroy the protagonist with a single strike!” 

Tsukasa doesn’t look nearly as happy about this as he should be. 

“So anyways, you must know the suit’s strength takes a bit of getting used to,” Rui continues, “which is why I’ve reworked this entire rehearsal for you and her to flesh out the choreography while also giving her some tactile experience. I gave her the basic tutorial earlier, but she still needs to run around a bit, get a feel for the aerodynamics.”

“Y–You mean to have an entire practice of me sprinting back and forth on this route while she hunts me down like an animal?”

“Exactly. And to help her get into character, I’ve put a little bounty on your head. For every time she catches you in the giant butterfly net, you owe her one taiyaki.”

“If it’s a bounty, why am I buying her the taiyaki!?” 

“Because then it doubles as an incentive. She gets the positive, you get the negative. And by the way, she’s looping back here with her Terminator run, so you have about three seconds after I end this sentence before she, ah, ends you.”

“Urk–!” 

Expression torn between wanting to complain to Rui more and not wanting Emu to flatten him, Tsukasa rightly chooses the correct option and sprints away. A half second later, Emu blasts past Rui with enough speed to make his hair swish. Another half second later, Tsukasa screams and Emu cheers for Taiyaki #1. 

Rui smiles. This show will no doubt be fantastic. 

[crazyunsexycool]

Hi Val 🥰!

Alright I have several questions about several of your your WIPS so I will keep it short..

Lights,Camera, Action.. are we talking regular asshole ransom or is he whipped/a major fan of Actress! Reader?

What happens in Vegas.. literally tell me anything I am already obsessed with the idea of straight laced Steve going to Vegas..

Sweet Lo!!!

Ok so Lights, Camera, Action is going to be a series. It’s starts with asshole Ransom and he has a reputation to be an asshole and a playboy on set. He sleeps with all of the leading ladies he stars with and most of the time they expect more from him. But we know he doesn’t do relationships. Enter reader. She’s plus sized and she’s determined to show the industry that the size of your waist doesn’t determine your acting abilities. She’s sick of being type cast as the designated ugly fat friend or the comedic relief. She gets casted in the roll of a lifetime. Ransom is brought in last minute when the original actor had to drop out! He isn’t ready for her though and she’s prepared to shut him down when needed!

Snippet:

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

You turn around to find the one and only Ransom Drysdale glaring at you. “Not at all, I just thought Johnny Storm was the lead is all.”

“Not anymore.” he says as he sits and you take a moment to really admire him. Ransom Drysdale is ridiculously handsome and you would be lying if you said that you never had a crush on him, everyone did. But as you started working in show business you heard that he was incredibly rude and could be difficult to work with and that was a bit of a turn off for you.

“If you don’t like it I’m pretty sure they could recast your part, sweetheart.” he smirks.

“No way in hell are they recasting me, although if you are as difficult to work with as I’ve heard maybe they’ll recast your part. They’ve already done it once, I'm sure they can do it again, sunshine.” You smile the moment he turns to glare at you. In that moment you decided that if he was going to be an ass you would push back.

2 What happens in Vegas:

It was supposed to be an over night stop after a mission. It was Ton’s idea of course, he paid for the hotel rooms. Bucky and Thor were also there and Steve got drunk off of some Asgardian mead Thor brought with him. Reader was there to celebrate her childhood best friend’s bachelorette party. When she wakes up she’s in someone else’s room. Not just anyone’s Captain fucking America’s room. If that wasn’t enough their wake up call is Tony, Bucky and Thor all witnessing Steve the morning after a one night stand… except it’s more than a one night stand. They have matching rings on their left ring fingers. Steve and reader think it will be as easy as getting an annulment but the Avenger’s PR team have a different idea.

Snippet:

You feel the bed shift with weight placed at the end and then shaking, pulling a groan from the man behind you. He grabs the pillow he was using and throws it, you hear an ‘uff’ as it hits whoever was shaking the bed. He slowly removes his arm from around your waist and sits up allowing you to shift and finally look at who you had spent the night with. Your eyes go wide at the realization of who was in bed with you causing you to sit up way too fast. Your eyes meet for the first time, embarrassment etched on your faces. The door slams open making you finally look at the others in the room. Not only had you slept with the one and only Captain America but before you stood Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark and the newest guest Thor. You keep the sheets up under your chin. Before you were able to say anything Thor spoke up, his voice booming.

“What is the hold up? Isn’t he ready to leave yet?” he asked before taking in the scene.

“Get out!” Steve snaps before turning to you. “I am so sorry about this.”

“Steve, it's never good to apologize to a woman while you’re still in bed naked with her.” Tony advises before smirking at both of you.

“Why are you still here? Get out!”

[its-not-a-pen]

Weekend at Omelas (0.1) Some behind the scenes stuff where Qui-Gon and Gabbro grab a drink.

Bang! Gabbro slammed the crystal decanter of Corellian whisky onto the counter. Bang! Bang! Bang! He lined up two matching antique tumblers, a bucket of ice and a small silver hammer--all with far more force than necessary. Being on the edge of a mental break-down was no excuse to let standards slip. Many things had been said about Maffic Gabbro over the course of his long career--most of them not fit for print-- but a poor host was not one of them. 

“You don’t mind if I have some of these nuts, do you?” The blasted Jedi materialised next to him, holding a golden hand-beaten bowl. He was still wearing the cheap suit, having done away with the stiff collar and neck-tie. He looked like a pile of dirty laundry and the sight of him slouching in Gabbro's pristine office sent a fresh spike of rage through the Ornithian.

“Help yourself.” Gabbro said through gritted teeth, hammering at the block of ice so violently little crystals went flying into the Jedi’s hair. Gabbro didn’t bother to ask how the damn monk managed to find his secret stash of snacks, another one of their silly tricks, no doubt. 

“Shanks, i mished breakfesh,” the Jedi said indistinctly. “I had to attend peace talks in the Aldarni sector and there were no fly-through restaurants nearby-- Care for a bite, Sir? It’s not healthy to drink on an empty stomach.” 

Gabbro knocked back a shot of straight whisky in response, his beak clicking and clacking loudly against the crystal tumbler. It was a severe breach in protocol for the host to drink before the guest and Gabbro got just the smallest bit of vindictive pleasure out of it. 

The Jedi shrugged and made a small lifting gesture “to dry cups."

He took a long, slow slip without grimacing or asking for ice. An experienced drinker, Gabbro noted. These monks weren’t as clean-cut as they liked to appear. -----------------

“You’re what, twenty five at the most?” Gabbro slurred, glaring somewhat unsteadily at the human. “Did the Jedi order snatch you right out of kindergarten or something?”

The Jedi smiled and adopted that vague air when he was trying to redirect the conversation. “Others far younger than me have achieved more. As I recall, you were only twenty seven when you became CFO of Asthenos Energy.” 

“You’ve certainly done your research.” Gabbro muttered into his empty glass. He fumbled for the decanter, only to find it on the other side of the table. Curious. He couldn't recall putting it there.

“I find people like yourself very interesting.”

“You’ve already won, Jedi.” Gabbro snapped. “You can dispense with the brown-nosing.”

“Qui-Gon.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, Sir and you will address me as such.” Gabbro looked up and found the Jedi--Qui Gon Jinn's--serious grey eyes boring into him like a drill. His soft, measured voice would not have been out of place in a courtroom or battlefield. “You may also call me Knight Jinn if it suits you--and to answer your question; no, that was not a compliment.”

For a moment Gabbro could do nothing but glare at him, mortally offended and more than a little intimidated. No one had ever dared to speak to him like that–-finally, he forced out a loud cackle, bristling his crest in a showy display of bravado that was probably lost on the human. 

“At last, the rancor shows his teeth! Yes…this suits you better.” Gabbro couldn't stop the honest admiration from bleeding into his hatred. “Gods, I was a fool for not seeing it sooner. I can't believe I really thought you were nothing but an ordinary, simpering fool. This is who you really are.”

“I’m not that good of an actor, Sir, you were just blind. All it took was a cheap suit and a Jedi Knight was invisible to you.”

Gabbro ignored the jab. “You’re wasting your potential. These monks clearly don't value you or else they wouldn't leave you so coarse and unrefined. I mean, look at you! You're dressed like a small-claims lawyer and talk like a nerfherder, yet even now you could silence a whole room with one word. If I put you in a proper suit, got you some diction lessons, and brought you in front of my board you’d put the best of them to shame. If those fools on Coruscant had any brains at all you’d be leading armies and bending the ears of kings, not wasting your time on this do-gooder nonsense."

“I've always found kings to be rather tiresome.” Qui Gon replied with a wry smile, “and I’d prefer the company of fools over yours.”

He said it so gently and matter-of-factly Gabbro did not immediately realise he had been insulted.

------------- we're roasting Gabbro and his pathetic one-sided hatecrush in the discord. qui gon deserves a "sworn enemy" as a treat.

----------------- Notes:

"to dry cups" is a transliteration of the Japanese toast [Kanpai]. Since the jedi are space samurai, I like to think a little piece of human tradition managed to survive the eons. It's also the same in Chinese [gan bei] :)

I don't think I've talked about this before, but I really enjoy linguistics and i LOVE reading translated books. I think the best translations are ones that are obviously foreign, something that allows you to "see the thought patterns" of another culture. My star wars stories are deliberately "foreignised" to make it seems like it was written in a different language and then translated into English. The easiest way is to avoid slang and deconstruct loan words e.g. [cigarette= nicotine stick] (but I kept cigarillo because it has connotations of wealth and prestige). I also incorporated the "run-on sentences" of French romantic authors and when in doubt, I throw in some Chinese proverbs and reverse-order sentences. "Silence a whole room with one word" is as close as I could get to 一鸣惊人 【yi ming jing ren] “one cry shocks people" while preserving the meaning。