#even though this is a behind the scenes shot that camera in the front could be explained in universe as from a tv station and not a studio

[miniseokminnies]

through a different lens — l.sm

❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated

This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing. 

“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat. 

Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do. 

Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight. 

“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand. 

“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining. 

“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either. 

Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day. 

“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly. 

“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication. 

“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?” 

“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again. 

“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason? 

“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen. 

“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles. 

The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language. 

Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound. 

“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him. 

Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip. 

You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked, 

“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing. 

“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost” 

*** 

Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.  

You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone. 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ????? 

Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking. 

You: do you need help? 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location

Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door. 

You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you. 

“y/n” he breathed 

“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time” 

You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind. 

As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you. 

He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window. 

You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street. 

He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop. 

The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word.  His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous. 

Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you. 

The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs. 

You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up,  Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called 

“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately, 

“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him. 

“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’. 

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls. 

Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier. 

Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again. 

“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that” 

“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested. 

The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane. 

“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down. 

After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it. 

“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English” 

“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm. 

You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you. 

*** 

“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain. 

“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?” 

“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question. 

“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice. 

Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location 

The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air. 

As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene. 

“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile. 

“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes. 

“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you, 

“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something. 

“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. 

You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch. 

“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell. 

Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.

#dk x reader #lee seokmin x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin x you #dk x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #dk imagines #lee seokmin imagines #lee dokyeom x reader #lee dokyeom imagines #dokyeom imagines #seokmin imagines #seventeen fluff #dk fluff #seokmin fluff #lee seokmin fluff #lee dokyeom fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt dk x reader #seventeen fanfic #bennie’s works

[schumachersnightmare]

Could you do one for Fernando Alonso with wife reader where she catch him doing one of the Tiktok's video (the one where he's spinning in front of the microwave🤭) and she tease him about it. And he accidently posted it with her reaction of him doing it and the Internet went wild! I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks!!

Ahh I absolutely love this request!! I love that tiktok so much. I'm such a softy for Fernando I had to write this one first. Hope you like it!

OG tiktok

BTS tiktok

Word count: 650+

Warnings: None just pure fluff

The season has yet to begun but everyone was at the factory in full swing. Fernando was called in to start his usual preseason requirements, seat fit, simulator, briefings, and of course media duties.

“Just a little more carino, then we can leave.” Fernando said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before being pulled away by Jimmy, the social media manager. Lance always seemed to disappear whenever the camera came out, leaving Fernando to fill in the gaps.

Your stomach growled. Lunch had been a few hours ago and Fernando was nowhere in sight. You walked over to the break room hoping to grab a light snack to hold you over until Fernando was done and the two of you could get dinner.

You pushed the door open and froze.

Your lips tightened together as you tried to contain the laughter building inside you. Little squeaks escaped as you tried your best to just walk around over to the fridge. Your cheeks turning bright red as you watched the scene in front of you unfold.

Your husband had no idea you had even entered the break room. Fernando was focused on making the tiktok. His phone sat in the microwave as he crouched down and slowly spun in a circle.

As soon as he stood up, he was surprised by the eruption of laughter. Fernando turned around towards the fridge where his wife was bent over in hysterics, one hand holding onto the fridge for support.

“It's funny, no?” Fernando asked, thinking you were laughing at his tiktok and not the behind the scenes view you had. “Jimmy and I thought of it together! It's good, no?” He asked as he walked over and slid his arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. His hand danced up and down your side as your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to calm yourself down, tears spilling onto his shirt.

“It's funny, Nando, it really is.” you wheezed as you wiped the tears from your eyes. Your lips pressed against the scruffy facial hair on his cheek before you stood up properly. “It's great, I think you captured the essences of pizza rolls perfectly.” You teased him and he rolled his eyes at you before his fingers attacked you, tickling your sides in retaliation.

The rest of the day continued as usual. Fernando and you shared dinner together before cuddling up in bed for the night. Your head rested on his shoulder as you scrolled through social media. That's when the Aston Martin account popped up on your tiktok. The video was pretty funny you had to admit. Fernando peaked over to take a look to see what you were giggling at. A smile grew across his face as he watched his beautiful wife giggling in his arms watching his tiktok. Giggles continued to spill from your lips as you went through the comments.

User1: old man has really lost it this time

User2: No! Don't microwave us!

User3: is that y/n in the background?

User4: yea she's in the behind the scenes

User5: Let! Him! Cook!

Behind the scenes? You didn't remember any behind the scenes video being shot. You clicked on the profile and scrolled until it popped up. Sure enough, there you were looking like a tomato trying to not laugh at your man-child husband before completely breaking down when he finished filming.

“Nando!” You yelped as you lightly slapped his chest and shoved your phone in his face. He chuckled as he looked at it and the comments. All the comments on the behind the scenes video were about you and your slow descent into hysterics. Everyone online was obsessing over you and your relationship with your husband. There were dozens of not hundreds of comments talking about how cute you two were together.

“I might have to give up my tiktoker of the year award.” He teased as he brushed the hair out of your bright red face.

~-~

Let me know if there's anything I could improve on formatting wise, normally I double space when I write in my editor but to me it looks like a lot between paragraphs on here, however if you prefer it let me know. Thanks!

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #fernando alonso x you #formula one x reader #mel writes #fluff

[purinfelix]

Joao with actress reader 👀

just an act ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing: actress reader x joao felix (established relationship) summary: in which your boyfriend's possessive tendencies are put to the test warnings: none! w/c: 1.1k

a/n: take a shot everytime i apologise for being ia challenge !! also this is a teensy bit rushed and i'm not entirely happy with it but, i hope it's alright !! tysm anon for the req (and for waiting for so long for me to answer it 😭)

“Joao, you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” your boyfriend huffed, “I’m fine! Really!”

“You literally skipped out on training to follow me to work,” you reminded him, with a slightly teasing tone.

“So?”

You let out a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour and tried your best to maintain your composure. Around you, the atmosphere of an active film set roared with its flurry of light, noise, and movement. Neither your hair nor makeup were close to being done, and you were still standing wrapped in the plush white robe the costuming staff had given you before you changed into your outfit for your scene. Somewhere to your right you watched the director and his entourage of nervous interns scrounge around the perfect the set’s lighting, and push all of the cameras and mics in their right places. Behind you, your costar sat on his chair, waiting impatiently, ready for the scene the two of you were shooting today.

And yet, the only thing you found your attention being drawn to was the boy that stood in front of you, with floppy hair and pleading eyes and a pout that was just too hard to deny.

“So, are you sure you’re alright with this? With me kissing another man?” you repeated, slowly, growing more aware of how little time you had until the cameras were set to start rolling.

When you had come home a couple of weeks ago with the news - that the new movie you were starring in would involve a kissing scene between you and your costar - you were nervous, to say the least. You knew Joao was the type to value your career just as much as you did, and would never do anything to stop you from achieving your dreams. However, you were equally aware that he had possessive tendencies, as much as he pretended not to. Of course, he had acted casual about the news at first, telling you that as long as you were comfortable with it, he was too.

But now that the time to shoot the scene had actually come, it seemed like he was having second thoughts - evidenced by the fact he had insisted on following you to work and had spent the past hour or so hovering around as you got ready, expression equal parts nervous and stern. Despite this, you knew he’d rather die than admit how he really felt, even if you prodded him a thousand times just to say what was clearly on his mind.

“Yep! Totally fine!” he chirped out in a falsely cheery tone. The way his eyes flickered anxiously between you, and your costar waiting in the distance, seemed to suggest otherwise.

You could only rub his arm reassuringly though, offering a look that you hoped conveyed your gratefulness at the fact he trusted you enough to not get in your way, but also cared enough to be so watchful. Still, the staff around you waited for no one, and soon enough you were ushered back into your makeup chair, from which you watched your boyfriend linger behind the cameras, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

“Joao, baby.”

You were starting to feel like a broken record at this point.

The scene had gone well, and you had only had to reshoot it a couple of times because of either you or your costar forgetting or stumbling over your lines. But the two of you had done your best to maintain an air of professionalism surrounding the intimate scene - your boyfriend however hadn’t been so well.

“I’m fine.” His tone, and the fact that his back was facing you as the two of you lay in bed together, told you otherwise.

The kiss - or kisses as Joao had corrected you - had only lasted seconds, nothing more than quick pecks in fleeting moments. You hadn’t thought much of them before, during, and now after them but it was clear he didn’t share the same sentiment.

“You said you were okay with it,” you sighed softly, trying your best to push the understanding tone in your voice.

“I am.”

“It doesn’t really seem like it.” Whilst it seemed like the bare minimum for him to let you go ahead with something your job required of you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for him putting aside his feelings for you - or at least trying to. A part of you found it slightly adorable as well, that he was trying so hard to hide his slight jealousy - evidenced by his moody demeanour the entire afternoon after you got back from shooting.

“What makes you think that?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely clueless or whether he was just messing with you. Struggling against your mattress, you pushed yourself up and leaned over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder - from where you could see his side profile, and furrowed brows.

“Hmm, I wonder,” you hum, fingers moving to gently interlace his fingers with yours as a silent way of saying I know something’s wrong.

“It’s just,” he began, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders at finally breaking through to him, “that costar of yours, Andy or whatever his name is, seemed a little bit too into it.”

You had to stop yourself from giggling, given how sincere his words were, but you couldn’t help but find his jealousy a little bit adorable.

“Joao, his name is Andrew,” you corrected him, “and he has a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and she’s lovely,” you chuckled softly, relief washing over you as you watched your boyfriend break into a small smile for what felt like the first time all day. You could physically feel the tension in his shoulders melt away as he let out a sigh of relief he must’ve been holding ever since you had come home with the news.

“Thank God,” he finally mumbled, turning back around to face you as he pulled you in close. You felt his grip tightly around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply.

“Plus, it’s not like he would pose much competition anyways,” you added, laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around him. He only hummed in response, not saying much more. You pecked the top of his forehead, relishing the fact that you had finally managed to heal his mood. After all, whilst acting was your job, you knew that at times like this - away from any cameras and in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms - none of it was an act.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #jet writes ★ #purinfelix #jet answers ✧

[bluntblade]

I've got a theory about why this happened, and I think the other Mandoverse shows support it, especially Mando S3. Basically, these shows have over-committed to using the Volume to the point that it hurts their action scenes. Not just in terms of how they look and feel, but what can even be put in front of the camera.

As Greig Fraser (the brilliant DoP who worked on early Mando as well as Rogue One, Dune and The Batman, and first got the Volume to work) has said, the Volume comes with pretty steep limitations. Spielberg has managed to do some things with it that Fraser hadn't thought possible, but for the most part it restricts what angles you can shoot at and also what movement you can have. Film Crit Hulk talks about it in more detail re Mando back in 2020:

Note HOW MANY times they’re standing relatively flat and the camera angle is directly parallel to a ground so that it puts the horizon in the same 1/3 of the frame spot behind them. They do this because if they raise the camera higher (as many shots should and would) it would reveal the “boxy” angle of the stage. It may seem small, but it REALLY de-emphasizes the natural surrounding and I’m worried it’s hurting the overall look of the show.

And it occurs to me that arguably the best-shot action of that series is probably the one where they went out and just filmed in the California hills. Note how Boba gets to tower over that one Stormtrooper and how there's a real sense of wham when he lands.

If you're shooting everything in a context where nothing can move all that fast, though, it really hurts your most kinetic characters. When Kelleran Beq gets his showcase in Mando S3, the camera can't move to add oomph to his strikes or give him a hero shot (in Kenobi you see them trying this with Vader, but they have to stop short of an angle which will actually give the image punch). If you've seen Dune Part Two, think of how the camera races along with Paul and Chani in some of their fights with the Harkonnens. That's wholly missing here.

And this also impacts the old jet packs (and Jedi acrobatics, for the most part). Whereas Jango could rocket around merrily, it's notable that the Children and the Nite Owls alike only really use their packs for dedicated aerial scenes. In the pirate fight, you can easily imagine them boosting from rooftop to rooftop and sparking even more "high ground" memes, but instead they conduct the fight entirely at a walking pace and on the ground.

And all of this hurts Sabine in particular, because like Ahsoka, she originated in animation and has previously been depicted in a really kinetic way. Even without a jetpack, she's a very acrobatic fighter in Rebels, and it's one of the things which makes her a really fun character. But in the process of moving to live-action, Filoni and co opted to change the characters to fit the Mandoverse style, instead of changing the style to fit the characters. The result is that lots of the things that first made Sabine so cool and fun just aren't really possible now.

#Sabine Wren #Ahsoka show #Ahsoka critical #Mandoverse critical #Youtube

[broken-risk-assessment-module]

The Adaptation That Shall Not Be Named aside, I had an idea for an interesting way you could represent ART in a visual medium: it's cameras.

We know that, in any visual medium, what The Camera (be that literal in film or figurative in animation) chooses to show and focus on is important. Its the primary way the piece of media communicates to its audience, and the framing of a scene tells us a lot about how we're supposed to interpret it. What is on screen and how it's on screen convey authorial intent.

Take all that, and turn "authorial intent" into character expression (in this case, for ART). A conversation between Murderbot and ART that would traditionally be shot-reverse-shot becomes shot-ARTPOVshot, so both shots would be of Murderbot, but one would be from The Camera and one would be from ART. Even though the subject is the same, the difference between them could show us something about ART in the same way a reverse shot shows us something about any other character.

To me its like those shots from a monster's POV in horror movies, where one second you're with your protagonists, the next you're watching them from a far off angle between some blades of grass, shaky cam, ragged breathing. It's a classic, even a cliche, but it does the job of conveying the sense of unsafety, of Something Out There Watching Them, of monstrosity, of something feral and dangerous. All without needing to see the monster. What if that type of shot was all we ever got of a character?

(Also, in all honesty, some of my favourite meta about this series is how it's in conversation with the horror genre. ART and SecUnits being the type of characters that would be The Monster in another story, or from another perspective, is compelling to me, so i'm drawing on that a bit here. The idea of characterising but not visualising ART by taking pages out of horror monster cinematography? I just think it's neat.)

Anyway, you could also do all the sci-fi Augmented Vision stuff with it too. ART POV shots where we watch it pull up a feed tab over the camera feed and replay a section of audio, or check Murderbot's diagnostics, or look at Some Code Or Perhaps A Graph. ART POV shots that are broken into multiple feeds showing different things. ART POV shots that give you the sense of it being textually present without it being physically present.

You could use some of this for Murderbot itself, if you leant into how its drones are an extension of its awareness. You could even use it in a similar way to how Murderbot uses its narration, narrating less when it's upset as well as leaving out major details. What if, when Murderbot is tired of people looking at it or in a more vulnerable headspace, we get more drone POV shots without Murderbot in frame. It's still there, but present in a different way, behind The Camera rather than in front of it.

I think there's potential in using POV shots from ART's cameras to characterise it without visualising it in a traditional way. I think there's potential in using horror movie monster language on ART and Murderbot. I think there's potential in having the cinematography focus on what they're seeing in a way that emphasises the amount of Surveillance both of them are constantly doing.

I think there's potential in a show using The Camera as cleverly as the books use Narration.

#like can you IMAGINE. #“You dislike your function.” [subtle zoom on MB's face to see its reaction] #a human asking MB a person question and rather than the cut close up to see its reaction #the camera cuts away so its no longer even in frame #what does MB sending its GovernorModulePunishment.exe to ART look like from ARTs POV??? #that one time MB shut down after ART probed too much and ART just waited until it woke up. #its just a ART cam timelapse of MB lying Unmoving for three hours #do you see the vision???? am i crazy???? #murderbot #the murderbot diaries #art/perihelion #murderbot meta #stuff i made

[henrysglock]

Complete and Utter Crack...Literally. This is a post about cracks.

This post is going to be one massive "okay, so...bear with me" post, because it melted my brain while I was making it, so like...bear with me.

Something's been eating away at me about the bizarre combination of gate+dematerialization, and the weird shot/set-design sequence therein:

We don't actually see El open the 1979 gate on its own.

Don't click out. I'm not the one fucking with us here. We're shown the gate with El present, obviously, but there's fuckery.

We see El reach up to dematerialize Henry/Edward, a motion we've seen before with the Demogorgon in ST1. We've never seen whatever motion El does when she supposedly opens gates. In 1983, she has a panic attack in sensory deprivation, and Mothergate splits up the wall behind her tank. The gate she later crawls through in ST1 was left behind by the "Demogorgon" (debatable that it was actually a demogorgon). She didn't open that one. We're only shown how she closes gates in Season 2, which ends up being paired with her fighting the Mindflayer anyway.

My point is: we've never seen El deliberately manipulate a gate without something else going on at the same time.

1979 is no different; the opening of the gate is overlaid with the dematerialization of Henry/Edward. When we actually see the gate in isolated form, it's closing on its own.

What makes this all even weirder is that the gate El supposedly just opened is not reflected in the mirror shard directly in front of her, despite the fact that we see the glow of the gate on her:

Note that the shards in front of her are in what I like to call "left-side-orientation alignment" (since that tall shard is on El's left).

The mirror shards when we see her next are reversed, now in right-side-orientation alignment (since that tall shard is now on El's right):

(Note: I've raised the sharpness on the image of the gate because the dark lighting makes it hard to see what I'm talking about.)

This leads me to wonder if what we saw in the above mirror might possibly be the reflection of one of the alternate timelines, the one where no gate was ever created and only a dematerialization event occurred.

This hypothesis is supported by the fact that the gate doesn't appear in the camera footage of the event that Brenner watches in S4E8, and the shards of glass on tape are in the same left-side-orientation alignment as they were in that first image of El with no gate reflection:

The only thing we ever concretely watch El do is dematerialize Henry/Edward, and even then we aren't allowed to witness the process through to completion with El in frame. It's always cut short.

The gate+dematerialization scene in S4E7 conveniently cuts to black before the dematerialization process finishes. Then, when Brenner is rewatching the dematerialization on camera in S4E8, the footage also cuts away, the shot reversing to focus on Brenner's eyes before the dematerialization process finishes.

This is super fucking sus, because we know for a fact that El gets pulled along into the destination dimension when she dematerializes beings, and we're left with nothing but an impact mark on the wall behind the dematerialized being:

So why are they hiding the ending of that sequence from us, and how is El supposedly still in the rainbow room when Brenner gets there?

This is where timeline theory could possibly come into it.

Per timeline theory, everyone should have at least one alternate timeline copy. There's also a point to be made about Henry's 4 unique massacre jumpsuits and the 4 different timelines presented by the newspapers vs what we're told/shown in the episodes themselves, which leads me to believe that at least for those interacting with Henry/Edward/HNL...the number is likely more than that initial one-copy standard.

(The actual counting of copies falls outside the scope of this post, though. I'm just here for the mirrors and cracks. I'm leaving corpse positions, bloodstain shifting, etc. to Em, since those are like...his babies.)

Either way, the question I always run into with timeline theory is "Where is/are El's copy(s)?"

To which I now pose the question: Is/are El's copy(s) even in a "real" dimension...or could she/one of them have been pulled along with Edward into the Yellow Dimension?

This is the point where things start to get intricate, and where I begin to talk cracks.

When Brenner enters the room after Henry/Edward is yeeted to...wherever it was he ended up and the gate has closed, we see that the pattern of the gate-scar crack behind little El is a specific shape: Vertical ellipse with a deep central crack. This central crack is not aligned with the vertical grout of the tiles. We also see that the mirror shards have maintained their post-gate, right-side-orientation alignment. (Camera foreground focus conveniently muddles the extent of the spiderwebbing minor cracks, but that's not super important. I only care about the ones we actually can see.)

The next time we see the wall is when Brenner interacts with it via a cut to an entirely new camera within the observation room, and the pattern of the cracks there is circular with no vertical central crack, as if someone hit the wall hard but no gate was formed (the same as we saw with the Demogoron in ST1). Also, the center of it aligns with the vertical grout of the tiles.

This camera briefly follows Brenner as he begins to turn around, but then cuts to swap to a different camera entirely before we even come close to glimpsing the mirror shards. They're hiding the orientation of the shards here from us, likely because the pattern of the shards seems to be a timeline giveaway.

We are not shown the direction of the mirror shards during the movement of the camera within the observation room with the no-gate cracks, nor are we shown this Brenner ever seeing little El before this camera swap occurs. We see a Brenner interacting with her back when we were seeing the gate pattern cracks, but this sequence in particular, this one associated with the no-gate cracks? It never shows us El. Thus, the question of her presence.

The new camera shows a perspective from opposite side of the mirror, and we do not return to the interior of the observation room in real life after this.

However, the really interesting part is the pattern of the cracks behind him through the eyes of this new camera.

When we swap cameras, we're shown both the pattern of the cracks on the wall and the alignment of the mirror shards. The shape and pattern of the cracks and shards here are: vertical ellipse, deep center crack, not aligned with the grout...and the shards are in that same right-side-orientation alignment we saw earlier with El's post-gate cracks.

(El's post-gate, right-side-orientation alignment for comparison, the tall shard being on her right rather than left.)

Just for certainty's sake, I want you all to look at the pattern of the major cracks with me, because the unannotated shots can be a little unclear. (I'm serious. My brain has been melting out my ears.)

The one shown behind little El (I've highlighted the important cracks. However, if you look back at the unannotated version, you'll see the same cracks plainly. I'm not pulling this out of my ass):

Gate.

From the shot of Brenner within in the observation room, during the sequence where the shards and little El are not shown to us (AKA the circular, impact-only/no-Gate cracks):

No Gate.

And the cracks we see behind Brenner after the camera swap happens, the sequence where we see both the shards and little El:

Gate. (The deep middle line is partially hidden by Brenner's body, but we can clearly see both it and the ellipse shape in the second image.)

As the cameras swap, we're shown a pattern:

Gate -> No Gate -> Gate

El -> No El -> El

They're likely swapping between outcomes here, and in the no-gate outcome...we are pointedly not shown little El. This contributes to me doubting whether she's present at all.

This is furthered by the mirror fuckery throughout the whole gate/dematerialization sequence.

What El sees before she begins to dematerialize Henry/Edward, when she's just got him trapped against the wall:

Right-side-orientation alignment.

What Henry/Edward sees:

(Note the reversed mirror shards ^)

Left-side-orientation alignment.

The shot from the security camera, which shows nothing but dematerialization:

Left-side-orientation alignment.

And then there's...the dual-outcome overlay, from Henry/Edward's side of the mirror.

We don't see this same gate+dematerialization combination from El's side of the mirror. It's always either dematerialization or the gate, never both together.

However, we do get to see the shards from El's side a handful of times the while the dematerialization process occurs, and while they're only on screen briefly...they're so very interesting.

The shard to her right in the above shot? The steep-angle triangle one? It's consistently on her right in the camera footage and from Henry/Edward's POV once the dematerialization begins. It's also the most common positioning of the mirror throughout the entire dematerialization sequence.

It was on her left before the process began, back when she just had Henry/Edward trapped against the wall:

This indicates to me that we've swapped timelines. She's got the same mirror as the Henry/Edward inside the observation room from earlier, meaning they're likely in the same timeline together.

We see this alignment, the left-side-orientation alignment, show up twice during the dematerialization sequence.

However, sandwiched between the two occurrences, is a single dematerialization shot swapped out for the right-side-orientation alignment, and from the Rainbow Room perspective, no less. This is the opposite of Henry/Edward's observation room mirror alignment from earlier (left-side-orientation alignment).

This tells me we're likely swapping not just between gate and no-gate, but also between two different dematerialization events.

Later, we see the red light of the gate on El and the left-side-orientation alignment shards from inside the observation room, but we do not see the gate reflected in those shards.

We do not see the mirror shards again from El's side until she's looking at the gate, and at that point...the shards have swapped back to the right-side-orientation alignment, with the tall pointy shard now on El's right rather than her left.

From what we're shown on screen, it seems like the gate exists in tandem with that right-side-orientation alignment, and that a dematerialization event occurs in both left and right-side-orientation alignments.

That gives us 3 timelines out of 4, and I'd be willing to bet that there's a gate outcome timeline associated with the left-side-orientation alignment which we have not been shown yet.

This leads me to believe me that the Henries/Edwards who got dematerialized are in two distinct timelines, and whoever got pushed through the gate is in yet another timeline...and is somewhere else entirely...and that there's a 4th version of these events which we know nothing or at least very little about.

This leads me to the working conclusion that we are being shown pieces of all 4 versions overlapped and occurring simultaneously, but not occurring in the same timeline.

That is to say, given Henry/Edward and the 4 jumpsuits, the changing corpses, and the mirror/wall crack fuckery I've just talked about here...the different HNL massacre scenes are most likely directly overlaid, and we've been swapping between them throughout the entire sequence.

So why does this matter?

Good question. The longer I melt my brain with this damned sequence, the more seriously I ask myself this question.

But seriously, this gate/no-gate business leads me back to a handful of other questions I've had since the beginning of ST, and some that are more specific to ST4:

How did El escape HNL after she opened Mothergate? We see her emerge from the tunnel, supposedly the same tunnel Henry/Edward showed her in the boiler room. However...when Mothergate opens, we're shown the instant chaos, and El is not in a hospital gown, nor is she in a section of the lab that's remotely similar to the section in ST4. She's still in her tank suit, and the lab layout is completely different. However, we also know that she escaped the same day Will goes missing, i.e., the day the demogorgon comes through Mothergate, so she supposedly escaped somewhere in the chaos...but how did she a) get out of the tank, b) get to the boiler room (which requires a keycard to access) to escape through the tunnel, and c) change clothes in the middle of it?

How did El know about the existence and mechanics of the UD at all in ST1? As far as we know, she's never been in it before she dematerializes the demogorgon. Unless...they're not the same El. Staring at the separation between dematerializing Henry/Edward and the formation of gate. If we've already got two Els, then, both of them should have another component, making four Els...to match our 4 Henwards.

What the fuck is up with the photos of Jamie in an ICBM tunnel? What are you doing there, sir? Why are you looking directly into the camera like you're trying to send me a psychic message? More importantly: Are you Henry?

What the fuck is up with the blood-free Henry stills? Why is older El in one, indicating it's from a massacre timeline she's interacting with? Why is the other from a stalker shot behind him/behind a shelf on the opposite side of the room? Why doesn't he have the Soteria removal blood streak? Why does he seem so confused? What's going on here, and more importantly...You're Henry, right?

(for location reference)

I'd be willing to speculate that blood-free Henry and ICBM Henry are from that 4th unknown-but-likely-gate outcome timeline...and I'd very much like to know what is going on in the house of commons.

Something about the Rainbow Connection poster in Suzie's room when the Cali Crew is trying to find NINA...Brenner telling El that the Nina play was about two lovers...Dream A Little Dream of Me being pivotal in Henry/Edward's story...

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

#if you made it to the end...you're one of God's strongest soldiers #henry creel #edward creel #el hopper #timeline theory #st set design #st mirror fuckery #st nina project fuckery #st nina project #stranger things analysis #stranger things theory #stranger things

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 7

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, oral, daddy kink, minor conversations of regular canon like violence.

You needed more than an extra coffee the next morning. The night had been late enough thanks to work alone, much less Emily keeping you up a few hours even longer, not that you would ever complain about that. What you would complain silently about though, was being stuck in a conference room in Medford while the team along with local pd tried to sort out what to do with the case. Your pen was twirling between your fingers and Emily was doing her best not to stare at your hands knowing how easily distracted she’d get thanks to them. She’d briefly been called elsewhere in the office for something, returning to find her seat had been taken by one of the locals. Doing her best not to roll her eyes she settled standing, it just so happened to be directly behind your seat, only because you were closest to the door of course.

Your phone was on the table in front of you, the screen suddenly lighting up as it began to buzz against the wood, your eyes darted in that direction and your hand shot out to ignore the call as you let out a little huff, settling back into your chair. A minute later and it went off again, this time Emily was able to catch that it was a Florida area code before you sent the call to voicemail, her eyes lingered a second longer when she realized she could see down the front of you shirt from this angle, a sense of pride swirling through her at the blooming hickey on the curve of your chest. Before anyone could catch her your phone went off again and her eyes darted back to it, this time you let out an audible sigh,

“Sorry.” You muttered, scooping up the device as you stood and quickly slipped from the room, shoulder brushing Emily’s as you did so. Her eyes couldn’t help but follow you, watching through the window as you wandered a few paces from the door, wrapping an arm around yourself as you answered the call. Her brow furrowed slightly, watching the way your expression changed as the conversation continued and then you pulled the phone away from your ear, swiping at the screen a few times before you quickly darted back to the doorway, glancing her way, “uh, Prentiss?” Your head tilted in the direction of the hallway and she nodded, moving through the room and following you a few paces before you turned back to her.

“What’s going on?” She asked, looking you over, trying to assess the situation.

“Old boss from Jacksonville just called.” You gestured with your phone, “they’ve got a cold case I was lead on that just reopened.”

“Okay…?” She raised a brow.

“It’s the same unsub from Miami.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, her heart jumping in her chest at the thought of being able to finally catch the bastard.

“Look at that crime scene and tell me otherwise.” You replied, flipping your phone screen to her so she could scroll through the emails Jacksonville had sent you.

“Fuck…”

“They want me to run point between the feds and the locals, can I go?” You asked, glancing up at her as you pocketed your phone.

“Uh, yeah.” She looked back at the team through the window, “just… not alone…” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, figuring out who would was the best for each case before she swiftly moved back towards the doorway to the conference room. You and Derek had been at the Medford crime scene, spotted by news cameras, whatever cover you had here was blown so it wasn’t a loss to have you off to Jacksonville. “Hey!” Her voice cut into the room, pulling attention of those inside it, “Wilson just caught a lead on our Miami unsub up in Jacksonville, team’s splitting up, I’ll head out there to check things out with her, Rossi’s taking point here. You good?” She asked, looking to Dave who nodded,

“Yeah, go.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

**

The jet was sailing through the skies of Nevada on the way to Florida, you’d grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, returning to the main cabin just as Emily was coming back from checking in with the captain. She watched for a moment as you glanced around the cabin, practically twirling on the spot and she let out a small laugh.

“What?” She asked.

“Trying to figure out where to sit, there’s so many options.” You returned the laugh, “it’s weird without anyone else here.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, “also means I can do this.”

Stepping toward you a hand slid across your cheek and she pulled you to her, her lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. Your hands instinctively looped around her shoulders, relaxing into the embrace, it was gentle, not as rushed and needy like practically all the rest of your kisses. You were alone, and you had hours until the plane landed, hours to yourselves, uninterrupted. You dropped the water bottle onto the table, your hand returning to gently tangle into Emily’s hair while her tongue slipped into your mouth. You let out a relaxed sigh into the kiss, feeling her hands trail down your body, fingertips gently tickling at your skin. Her hands cupped at your ass, squeezing the flesh as she pulled you tightly to her, rutting her hips up against yours and you broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Really?” You raised a brow, glancing down between you at the feeling of a bulge in her pants, “here?”

“What?” She grinned, “you’ve never wanted to join the mile high club?”

“I mean… this would be far superior than a cramped bathroom on a commercial flight.”

“Then I think you should take off your pants princess.” With another wicked grin her fingers swiftly undid your belt, slipping into your waistband as she backed up until her calves hit one of the couches and she dropped down onto it watching as you quickly tugged off your pants, “ah!” She suddenly warned, “keep the panties on.”

“Yes daddy.” You murmured, stilling the actions of your hands as you watched Emily undo her own pants just enough to pull her cock out. She squeezed at the base of it and your mouth watered at the sight when a few drops of lube leaked out, her hand smearing it around the toy, pumping it a few times while she undressed you with her eyes.

“C’mere.” She crooked her fingers and you practically stumbled over your feet to get to her, eagerly dropping into her lap, your legs straddling her hips.

She pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper than the first but she still moved with grace, her tongue tracing every inch of your mouth while her hands skated across your skin, fingers pinching at your nipples through your clothing before a hand tangled into your hair. She broke the kiss, tilting your head back so her mouth could suck at your neck, a few days alone meant she could mark you, teeth nibbling at your skin while you ground down onto her cock. She chuckled, her free hand sinking between your bodies, sliding your panties to the side so she could trace through your folds.

“Already wet for daddy, hmm?” She slipped two fingers in and you gasped.

“Always…”

“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, lips returning to your neck where she bit into your skin harder than before and you moaned, her tongue lapping across the mark to sooth the burn. Her fingers curled and twisted inside you, scissoring apart to make sure you were stretched out.

“Please.” You murmured, grinding down on her hand.

“Please what angel?”

“Please fuck me.”

“You wanna ride daddy’s cock?” She muttered, her nose trailing up your neck, nudging at your chin so she could steal another kiss, her lips hovering against yours as you nodded.

You lifted yourself up just enough for Emily to be able to line her cock up with your cunt, the tip nudging in as you whined before sinking down onto it, letting out a very satisfied moan. Your hands braced themselves on her shoulders, fingers squeezing probably a little too tight but she didn’t complain as you began to roll you hips onto hers, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“That’s it pretty girl.” She praised, a hand brushing your hair off your face while the other gripped at your hip, guiding you, “so fucking hot…”

Emily leant forward, her mouth latching onto the same spot as before while you lifted yourself up, starting to bounce on her cock. With every thrust the tip of it brushed across the sensitive spot within you, pulling little whimpers and shivers, your nails digging into her shoulders as you did so.

“Louder baby…” She urged, nose nudging at you again and your eyes cracked open.

“But…”

“Unless you scream no one’s going to hear you.” She chuckled darkly, “let daddy hear those gorgeous noises.”

Her hips rutted up into you with more power right as she spoke and a loud gasp left your lungs, you head falling back, continuing to bounce in her lap. Emily couldn’t decide between burying her face in the crook of your neck to make sure the bruise lasted weeks and watching the glorious way you rode her, eventually deciding to palm at your chest through your shirt as her eyes grazed up your body, wishing that you were naked. She made a mental note to get you completely bare in her lap in the near future so she knew what was imagination and what was reality, you were absolutely stunning like this and she could barely imagine just how perfect you’d be otherwise.

Your moans became louder, more frequent as you rode her, your head dropping against hers as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh god… oh fuck daddy!”

“Gonna come for me angel?”

“Need… need more!” Your pussy clenched around her, body shivering and she chuckled, her hand tracing up your body until it met your collarbone. She easily flipped you onto you back with one quick push, resting one leg on the floor so she could drive into you harder, each heavy thrust earning a squeak from you while her hand crept up your throat.

“So fucking gorgeous princess.” She panted, “come for daddy, I know you want to.”

You whimpered, your body surging with pleasure while Emily picked up the pace, hips meeting yours with vigor while you whined and moaned underneath her. She barely let up on your throat, stealing your breath with a kiss, her tongue plunging into your mouth while her hand snuck lower, pinching at your clit, rubbing it furiously and you shrieked. Your arms clenched around her, your hips thrusting up to meet hers before stilling, your body shaking against the couch as you panted. Emily began to slow her thrusts, though she made sure each one was as deep as the last before she groaned, squeezing at the base of the toy and her cum spurted deep inside you.

“Fuck…” you muttered, holding her to you while you caught your breath and she laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the already darkening mark on your neck.

“Good girl.” She praised, waiting a moment before she slipped out of you panting. She slid between you and the back of the couch, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and pulled down the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around both you. “Now get some rest, I know you’re exhausted.”

“Mmm…” You felt her nuzzle into the crook of your neck as you adjusted on the couch until you were comfortable and it wasn’t long after that that you drifted off.

Emily let herself get some actual rest, knowing the flight was longer than normal, gently shifting from behind you before tugging the blanket tighter around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. She cleaned the strap, tucking it back into her bag before pulling out her tablet and swiping through the files Jacksonville had sent, though she couldn’t resist softly adjusting you, shifting your head into her lap, letting her free hand toy with your hair.

**

You shifted, letting out a grumble, something was different, the side of the couch wasn’t as comfortable, not as warm and above you, you heard Emily chuckle, nudging at your knee though the blanket.

“We’re landing in twenty, you might wanna put pants on.” She teased and your eyes cracked open, shooting her a glare before you sat up, yawning and stretching your body out.

“Thanks.” You murmured when she tossed you your pants, tugging them up your legs, “you hear anything else from Jacksonville?”

“No.” She smiled softly, settling into one of the seats perpendicular to you, “but as far as I’m concerned this is your case, I’m just here for the ride.”

“Sure.” You chuckled, shifting over to the seat beside her, tugging the blanket with you. You did up your seatbelt but curled up in your seat, letting out another yawn, hesitating before you nuzzled into her shoulder, “this okay?”

“Yeah.” She teased, “god Wilson, why so tired? You’ve gotta start a better sleep schedule, what’re we supposed to do with you?”

“I’ll kill you.” You mumbled, wrapping the blanket around your body as you shut your eyes, twenty minutes was twenty minutes, you needed more sleep.

*

The check in with the local pd in Jacksonville was on the brief side, you introduced Emily to your old captain as he caught you up to speed on what they’d found so far with the case. You’d noticed the slew of reporters outside the precinct, there was no doubt everyone, unsub included, knew the FBI was in town to help on the case. They’d had the files sent over from Miami and were combing through both to link up all the dots possible before making the next move, that was when you realized the unsub had been using an alias in Miami and why you hadn’t made the connection previously. You sent off a bunch of information to Garcia to start checking under both names and mixes of the names to try and find a home or work address or more info and called it a day.

Emily let you take the lead as you left the station, tossing you the keys considering this was your home turf. You picked up dinner and headed over to the hotel, relieved that you didn’t have to do the usual dance around who was rooming with who and sneaking room keys to each other. After quick showers and fresh clothes you dropped onto the bed and enjoyed dinner while the tv played in the background. You tossed the now empty food container onto the bedside table, letting out a little yawn and Emily laughed.

“Are you seriously still tired? You slept like four hours on the jet.”

“Maybe if someone didn’t keep me up so fucking late on these trips..” you fired back and she rolled her eyes.

“As if you don’t like it.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve never heard of a quickie.” You teased back.

“Well what if I promise to be quick right now?” She raised a brow with a grin.

“Really? Again?”

“I may have eaten dinner but what if I want dessert?” With a wicked grin she wrapped an arm around you, pinning you down to the bed while her lips met yours.

“Em!” You giggled, though it very quickly turned into a moan as her lips began to trail their way down your body, sucking at your skin, teeth nipping at your chest before she settled between your legs.

Very true to her word she didn’t waste anytime, her tongue lapping through you, flicking against your clit until you were moaning, hips rutting up into her mouth. She knew exactly how to touch you and when to switch up to your clit, wrapping her lips around it to have you shuddering in only a matter of minutes. Grinning she glanced up at you for any protests as your orgasm rocked through you and when there wasn’t one she quickly got a second one from you before you were tugging her off you panting. With a soft chuckle she acquiesced, crawling back up the bed and dropping into the pillows beside you,

“Satisfied princess?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good.” She kissed you softly, “now get some rest sleeping beauty.”

“If you weren’t so good with your tongue I’d fucking hate you.” You mumbled back, pulling a laugh from Emily before you nestled into the pillows, pulling the sheets up around you, her arm easily falling around your waist.

She was both impressed and happy to find you asleep only minutes later.

_______________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @bookpillows @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @bluetodie @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #a dangerous game

[thebunnednun]

Capturing Hearts Iñaki Godoy x Reader

Chapter 3: A Dinner Invitation [Part 1]

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The atmosphere on the set of One Piece was charged with excitement as the premiere of the second season drew closer. With the buzz surrounding the show reaching new heights, the cast and crew were busier than ever, preparing for a series of interviews and promotional events.

As the official Instagram photographer for the production, you found yourself juggling multiple tasks at once, from snapping behind-the-scenes shots to coordinating with the cast and crew for promotional events. And as the day of the first round of interviews approached, you knew that you had your work cut out for you.

One morning, as you reviewed the schedule for the day, a sense of nervousness crept over you. The cast would be facing their second round of interviews, and it was up to you to make sure that they were prepared.

As you made your way to the dressing rooms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension. The cast members were talented actors, but many of them were new to the world of interviews and publicity, and you knew that they would need your help to navigate the process.

"Good morning, everyone," you greeted with a smile as you entered the dressing room. "I hope you're all ready for the interviews today."

The cast members looked up from their scripts, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"We're as ready as we'll ever be," one of them replied, a hint of uncertainty in their voice.

You nodded, understanding their apprehension.

"Don't worry, I'll be there to help you every step of the way," you reassured them, your voice filled with confidence. "Just be yourselves and remember to have fun."

With that, you set to work, helping the cast members prepare for their interviews by running through potential questions and coaching them on how to present themselves in front of the cameras. And as the time for the interviews drew nearer, you could feel the tension in the air, the cast members growing more and more nervous with each passing moment.

But just as the first interview was about to begin, Iñaki Godoy, the charismatic lead actor of the show, stepped into the dressing room with a smile.

"Hey there, everyone," he greeted warmly. "I just wanted to wish you all good luck for the interviews today. You're going to do great."

The cast members looked up in glee, their nervousness melting away in the presence of their esteemed co-star.

"Thanks, Iñaki," one of them replied, a cheeky smile spreading across their face. "That means a lot coming from you."

Iñaki nodded, his gaze lingering on each of them in turn.

You began to take your place behind the cameras. The crew were able to get through the interviews and mini games created to show off their fondness for the series.

But, you'd be lying if you say you didn't have a favorite.

Anyway, the lovely cast changed outfits to something more of a dinner casual look. Emily wore a sparkly black and pink accented dress that you HAD to get a picture of. The lovely girl gladly posed for you and you couldn't help but admire her playful air. Jacob was beginning to grow on you as well. (You even got him to recreate his little dancey dance for your personal gallery.) Mackenyu was quiet but willing as you snapped two photos of him in his ironic green and black polo/dress pant combo. Taz, being his usual friendly self, even requested a selfie with you!

Passing your camera to the taller male you secured your black mask over your face before offering a peace sign. Taz, on the other hand, decided to stick out his tongue and make some silly faces to provoke your giggles before passing the camera back. Soon the others joined in and even pulled Mackenyu into the mix.

There was just one person missing though.

Iñaki had just finished changing before he photobomed the sweet selfies in the background. He popped into a deep squat that looked as though he has shit himself while in deep though. This would later prove to be a very popular sequence on the Instagram account and elsewhere on the internet. After the giggles has died down, you decided to pack it up for the day. Donning a mid length puffer coat you felt a hand softly tugging your sleeve.

"(Y/n), would you come to dinner with us?" Iñaki suggested, his chestnut eyes wide and pleading. "It'll be a great way to celebrate and unwind."

The cast members exchanged excited glances. They all seemed very friendly and inviting, but, you were unsure of how to respond to the unexpected invitation.

"We'd love for you to join us," Emily replied, her voice filled with certainty. You quickly searched her face to find honesty. Jacob nodded behind his shades and Taz offered you a rather sweet smile that reached his eyes.

You shifted onto your other foot, "OH, thank you. But I wouldn't want to impose," you tried to gently decline. Mackenyu, usually the quietness spoke up, "Don't be silly and it would be nice to have another chill person at dinner," he slipped Iñaki a teasing glare before returning to his phone.

Iñaki smiled, his charm and charisma putting something inside you at ease. You unknowingly began to smile back at him nodding.

"Great, it's settled then," he said, clapping his hands together. "Now let's go EAT! I'm starving."

And with that, the cast members set off for their dinner reservation, your nerves replaced with a newfound sense of confidence and determination. And as you faced the budding evening with grace and poise, you couldn't help but feel a swell of relief in your chest.

Iñaki was a real gentleman, offering you the seat next to him in Taz's jeep. The ride was filled with singing and silly inside jokes. And as you looked forward to the dinner ahead, you knew that they were not just colleagues, but a family, bound together by their shared love for One Piece and each other. You felt something slide into your hands and glancing down you saw a phone with a new contact screen opened.

Looking up, you saw Iñaki gazing back at you with those same warm eyes and big smile. You offered a small smile back and as you pushed the buttons to fill out your contact info you couldn't help but feel your ears and neck getting warmer.

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Find chapter 2: Here

Leave a like and check out my other works. <33 Check out the ao3 by the same name.

#Monkey D. Luffy #Inaki Godoy #Inaki Godoy x reader #relationship #work romance #one piece #one piece luffy #live action luffy #live action one piece #netflix #photography #friends to lovers #taz skylar #emily rudd #jeff ward #mackenyu #jacob romero gibson #inaki luffy #inaki godoy #vinsmoke sanji #usopp #nami #buggy (one piece) #Chioma Umeala #nojiko #Inaki x reader #Iñaki Godoy #Iñaki Godoy x reader

[watching-pictures-move]

Dawn of the Dead… in 3D!

This has been one of my favourite movies since I was sixteen years old, and formative in my love of the horror genre, so it was very nice to be able to see it with @thedrillerkiller on the big screen, and in 3D. That’s 1.5 times as much movie, if you do the math. So obviously I had a good time. I won’t have any great new insights about a movie I’ve seen a billion times and that much smarter people than myself have discussed to death, so let me rattle off a few thoughts about the 3D conversion.

I used to be a purist for this stuff, but I think this is a really interesting choice for the format. A lot of the movie has characters looking down the barrels of their guns either towards or away from the camera, so this visual strategy lends itself pretty naturally to the depth offered by the format. Think of the part where H. Scott Reiniger kicks and shoots a zombie, or when Ken Foree looks through the scope of a rifle in the gun shop.

So as a result the gore pops as well, as Romero often frames it for obvious emphasis or will sometimes have viscera pop out at the camera. At least one headshot results in a zombie’s brains erupting towards the viewer. If someone near the front had tossed their ketchup-covered fries behind them, this could have been a 4D viewing, but luckily this was not the case.

But there are moments when the 3D accentuates other effects, varied in tone. There’s montage of the trophy heads in the gun shop or the different products on sale though out the mall, Romero’s satirical jabs getting just a little more punch from the extra dimension. Or, in contrast, the scene where Foree comforts a deteriorating Reiniger from the other room, the 3D almost adding a visual echo to the shot where Foree is framed through a doorway. It feels just a little more poignant.

And while one of the complaints about 3D conversions has been their dimness, I think the extra pop of the candy coloured blood against the extra brown, Carter-era sheen works really well. Has any movie used the period’s visual drabness to such deadening effect? This truly is a zombie epic for the Malaise era.

And speaking as someone who had a huge crush on Gaylen Ross when I first saw this as a teenager, I was not immune to the power of her performance on the big screen with the extra dimension.

And as for the movie, I think Ebert put it best:

“If you can see beyond the immediate impact of Romero's imagery, if you can experience the film as being more than just its violent extremes, a most unsettling thought may occur to you: The zombies in ‘Dawn of the Dead’ are not the ones who are depraved. They are only acting according to their natures, and, gore dripping from their jaws, are blameless.

“The depravity is in the healthy survivors, and the true immorality comes as two bands of human survivors fight each other for the shopping center: Now look who's fighting over the bones! But ‘Dawn’ is even more complicated than that, because the survivors have courage, too, and a certain nobility at times, and a sense of humor, and loneliness and dread, and are not altogether unlike ourselves. A-ha.”

Listen, you can whine about some of the times he’s been wrong or whatever, but when he’s right, he’s right.

#film #movie review #dawn of the dead #george a. romero #george romero #🧟🧟‍♀️🧟‍♂️

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Acquainted (18+)

Pairing: Model!Urban x Photographer!Reader

Words: 2,301

Warnings: Contains explicit content, please DNI if under 18

“Here’s your pass. The designer asks that you don’t bother the models, in fact don’t even look them in the eye, they don’t like that.” The press coordinator stopped in her tracks and looked behind her to see that you were no longer in step with her. “Keep up, please!” Your new boss was giving you the rundown backstage at the Prada SS’24 show, and you were having trouble staying behind her.

You had stumbled about 10 feet back, dropping your camera bag, all of your lenses and cleaning equipment falling out onto the floor. You saw a manicured hand reach down to pick up one of your lenses, the hand connected to a tall, muscular model with piercing blue eyes. Remembering your training, you avoided eye contact. “Thank you.” You rushed off to catch up with your boss.

“Are you going to be trouble for me, Y/N? I don’t need trouble today.” You shook your head fervently, pulling out your camera to prove you were ready for this job. “Look, I wouldn’t even have given you this job if your dad wasn’t a photography legend, so don’t press your luck.” You nodded in appreciation, rolling your eyes as soon as you were sure she had turned away. She wasn’t wrong, you were a nepo baby in your own right, your father teaching you how to take pictures at a very young age and then dragging you through the ranks, from freelance to head photographer for Paris Fashion Week. You knew you were lucky to be here, but you also had a chip on your shoulder because you knew you were good, and you didn’t think you had to work so hard to prove yourself. “We need behind the scenes shots for Vogue, so work the room and gets some closeups of the models in hair and makeup.” You were given your instructions before the coordinator ran off to take care of other responsibilities.

You walked around the hair and makeup stations, taking as many shots as you could before the show started. As you walked to the end of the room, you recognized the same guy who had helped clean up your mess earlier. His blonde hair was tied back in a sleek low bun so you could see his strong, rounded features. You walked up to him, your camera covering most of your face so he couldn’t see that you were blushing.

“Hey.” He spoke first, his accent surprisingly American, and you thought you could pick up on a southern twang. “Oh, sorry. I was told not to bother the models, I’m just trying to get some pictures.”

“Wait, are you American?” You nodded, letting your camera hang from your neck strap. “Yeah, I’m from LA.” He let out a sigh of relief, a smile creeping on his face as he ran his hand against his beard. “Thank God, I was really beginning to think I wouldn’t see anyone else from the states here. My manager handed me a plane ticket, saying I was going to Paris, even though I’ve never taken above a high school French 1 class.”

“I’m sure you’re making it just fine.” You gave him a sincere smile. “I’ve eaten nothing but croissants the last couple of days because I don’t know how to order anything past “Une croissant, sil vous plait.” You laughed at the painfully American accent butchering the French words. “I’m Y/N.”

“Urban.”

“Well Urban, if you ever get a chance to venture around Paris, let me know, and I’ll be sure to show you how to properly order food. You’re missing out on some amazing French cuisine.” He smiled, opening his mouth to say something when the models were all called to line up for the show. “Another time, then.” Before he stood up, you snapped a picture of his face. If you never saw him again, at least you had something to remember him by.

****

As the music began blaring in the speakers, you made your way to the front of the stage. The models began walking down the runway in time with the beat of the music, their movements rigid. You took pictures of everything around you, not sure what the magazines would find usable. “Ow!” You turned behind you to see that you had stepped on the foot of some B-list celebrity. “Watch where you’re walking, bitch!” You ignored her cries for attention as you worked around the stage.

As you saw Urban coming down the runway, your heart started to race. He was definitely in his element tearing down the runway, his demeanor more serious and reserved then the person you met backstage. He made eye contact with you immediately, his eyes softening. Not wanting to mess him up, you gave him nothing but a small smile, but that was enough to catch his attention. As he made his way to the end of the runway, he looked directly into your camera and bit at his lip, pulling his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You gulped, knowing that was just for you, in a room of at least 100 other people. He gave you a wink before he turned to walk back to the start. You don’t even remember if you took pictures the rest of the night, your mind only on Urban.

****

After the show, you were backstage packing up your equipment when Urban approached you again. The room was pretty much empty, most of the models having to rush to their next show across town. “You looked good out there.” You looked up from your bag. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? You were the model.” “No, I meant what I said. It had nothing to do with your camera.” You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“I’m headed to a party tonight, would you like to come?”

“It depends, was that move on the runway for me?” You gave him a cocked eyebrow, but he just returned with the same confident smile. “I guess I’ll see you tonight then”, replied Urban before he walked away, leaving you stunned.

****

“We need to make a stop before we head to the party, okay?” Urban confessed when he picked you up from your apartment. You just nodded, letting him lead the way. After about a quick 10-minute walk, you came upon an underground party. You had heard rumors about these events before, but at seeing it in person, it kind of looked like a high school party you would go to back in California. Just a bunch of people standing around and talking, smoking weed and drinking. The same stench of cheap Vodka lingered in the air, making you gag from the déjà vu. “You okay?” Urban laughed when he saw your nauseated face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having flashbacks to high school.”

“God, I’m so glad I met you, Y/N. Nobody here would know what I was talking back if a mentioned a ‘kickback’, but you do!” You could tell he had been drinking, his volume a bit too loud. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded at someone standing against one of the walls. After a couple of minutes, he returned to where you were standing, holding out a half finished blunt. You took it, taking a couple of drags before you handed it back. “So how did you end up in Paris?” You let out a cough before answering. “My dad, he’s French actually. I grew up in Paris until I was 12 and then I went to go live with my mom in Los Angeles. She’s American.”

“Divorced parents fuckin’ sucks.” You nodded, letting out a curt laugh. “Yeah, they do. But it actually was kind of fun. I spent the school year in the states, and summers in Paris. All of my friends were jealous.”

“How did you get into modeling?” You reached out for the blunt again, Urban allowing you to take a puff from his hand. “You probably won’t believe this, but I was backpacking in Madrid one summer after high school, and I was discovered at a train station. Got signed that day and have been working ever since.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t believe that. That sounds like the plot to a kidnapping movie.”

“You’re funny.” Urban waived his blunt at you.

“I’m a lot of other things too.” You could tell the weed had finally hit because you were feeling uncharacteristically bold. Urban’s eyes immediately filled with lust, his gaze going straight to your chest.

He was going to be fucking you before the night was over.

You felt scrutinized under his gaze, your core beginning to clench. “We should get going if we want to go to that party.”

****

The party you were attending was at a hotel in the Oberkampf district. You both started the long elevator to the penthouse in silence, each taking refuge on either side of the large car. The silence was making you uncomfortable, so you decided to make the first move.

“How long have you been modeling?” You asked the empty space between you and Urban, refusing to make eye contact with him. You heard him chuckle, a sharp breath leaving his mouth. You finally gained the courage to turn to him, leaning your back against the cold metal panels. You weren’t expecting him to be looking at you, his cerulean blue eyes filled with desire.  “I’m not interested in small talk”, he edged out between pursed lips, his gaze sizing you up. For the first time you were able to take him out breathtakingly beautiful he was, his blue eyes the least seductive thing about him. You allowed your eyes to close, your core tightening at the thought of running your hands through his blonde locks and his broad shoulders towering over you as he thrusts into your aching cunt. You had seconds to let your vision adjust to the sight of Urban inches from your face, your chests rising and falling in unison.

“Do you trust me?” He was testing to see how far you were willing to go. You nodded, leaning into him further.  

“Completely.”

Testing the waters, he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, his strong hands had a light grip around your neck. You broke for a second before you leaned back into him, crashing lips again. You let out a small moan into his mouth when he pinned you to the elevator walls with his pelvis. You could feel him start to slip his hand up your dress, bunching the fabric around your waist, the cold metal stinging against your bare ass. He grinned when he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. “What did you think was going to happen tonight?” You kissed him again, this time harder, hoping he got his answer. Without letting you go, he reached over to the elevator panel and hit the Emergency Stop button with his fist. A blaring alarm sound pierced your ears.

“Veuillez rester calme. Les autorités ont été alertées de votre emplacement et arriveront dans environ trois minutes. (Please remain calm. Authorities have been alerted to your location and will arrive in approximately three minutes.).

“What are you doing? The police are on there way.” You looked at Urban like he was crazy. “How much time do we have?” He looked between you and the blinking panel. “I don’t know, like two and a half minutes?”

“You better cum fast then.”

Before you could object, Urban dropped to his knees, lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder. He immediately latched onto your clit, applying sucking pressure to your sensitive bud. “Oh fuck!” was all you could utter out as you lost your breath. You immediately felt your core start to flex as your orgasm started in your lower stomach. You raked your fingers through his hair, grabbing a bunch in your hands as he moved to swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit, flicking it every couple of seconds. “Don’t stop, Urban.” You were ignoring the automated message by this point, the ringing in your ears drowing out all sound. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. Is this all for me? You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N.” You didn’t even bother answering; both of you knew it was all for him. “I need more.” Urban quickly obliged, running two of his fingers between your folds before slipping them into your entrance. You could feel your knees start to weaken, Urban grabbing onto your thigh when he saw them begin to shake. “That feels so good, Urban. Don’t stop.” He quickened the pace of his fingers, still latched onto your clit when he felt you begin to clench around his hand. Within seconds you were releasing around his fingers, your wetness hitting the metal floor with a splash. Your pussy continued to pulsate, your core seizing as he licked you clean. Every touch with his tongue only extended your orgasm, the sensation too much. “Please, stop. I need a break.”

“Just in time.” Urban pulled your dress down, the sound of a police force coming down the hallway audible within the elevator. You barely had time to adjust yourself when the elevator doors opened.

“Is everything okay, Monsieur?” the cop asked, surveying the room. “Of course, just a stuck elevator.” Urban couldn’t help but chuckle. You slapped his arm, a smile forming on your own face. “The station reported weird noises coming from the elevator car. Do you have any idea what that could have been?”

“No.” You both answered too quickly. “You know these elevators, they have to be at least 100 years old, right.” Urban smacked against the wall, the creaking confirming his lie. “Goodnight, gentlemen.” Urban grabbed your hand, rushing out of the elevator.

#urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt #urban wyatt imagine #urban wyatt x y/n

[fordarkisthesuede]

Batman the TellTale Series: Fangs of Ouroboros - Prologue

Over the years, Bruce has found that his life as Batman had a particular cycle. Like the ouroboros, his fight against crime would come to a head with a large, almost overwhelming and violent case before tapering out and starting anew. Batman, and his mission, would seemingly continue on ad infinitum. He’s at that point of the cycle again. He knows seemingly nothing will rest until a whole new row in each city cemetery is filled. Only this time, with his upcoming nuptials a mess, one too many foes roaming the streets, and his alter-ego being framed for murder by a ghost, he can feel it… The snake’s fangs are digging in, grating against the scales, threatening to cut off the tail for good.

[Read on Ao3] | <next>

Blood stains streaked over the walls and floor. Half the furniture sat toppled, scattering the remains of a small apartment. Two corpses could be seen; one by the dilapidated sofa and the other by the broken dining set.

Just another night in Gotham. Another crime scene for Batman to investigate. Another murder to solve.

Or it would have been, if the corpses weren’t so obviously mannequins.

Bruce heard broken glass crunch softly under his boot as he made his way towards the table. A rat scurried away, leaving crumbs behind on the wooden cutting board. The smell of roquefort cheese and stone-ground mustard was notable, even though the local rodents had clearly eaten what looked like ninety-percent of the charcuterie board.

The blood was fake, just a shade or two too red now that he looked closer under the dim lamp light. The face of the ‘corpse’ had a silly frown drawn on it, along with ‘x’s over the eyes. What looked like a heart monitor tag peeked out from the opening in the blouse. The sort they used on crash-test dummies.

There came a tiny fwhum like when an old television set turned on, and Bruce turned to look at the messy makeshift living room.

The dim black screen flickered to a face he knew all too well.

“Wellity-wellity-well - look at what the bat dragged in!” Joker grinned from the dark. “Hiya, sweetums! You’re a little later than I thought. Don’t tell me:  I already know, courtesy of our dear, omniscient Oracle. So many crimes, so little time! Well, don’t worry,” he leaned back in his chair, the painted scales on his green vest gleaming in the shift of light. “You have pleeenty of time to investigate my little murder scene. I did make it for you, after all.”

Bruce shot a look at the glass he’d stepped on. He switched his cowl’s vision mode - sure enough, a thin red beam of light shot across the floor at too high a height for a rat to scurry over. 

An infrared trip wire. Common security tactic. He should have thought to look first.

“Neat, right? I’m thinking about putting one around my little closet. Tiff’ almost opened it when we were hanging out the other day. And I reeeally don’t want to scar her for life. Ha, well, you know - again.”

Bruce stared at the fake scene in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he should really ask the gently-nagging question at the back of his head, but it came out anyway: “Why are you doing this?”

Joker’s grin faltered and shrunk into a disappointed pout. “Oh, Batsy - I know you read my card. It’s why you’re even here!” He flourished with a gesture at where Bruce was standing before the camera. “You know, we really don’t spend enough time together like this,” he added, leaning his cheek into his hand with a flirty little smile, “all…mano e mano. But don’t wait around on my account - I’m sure something else in here caught your undivided attention.”

Bruce took the hint and turned away from the television to look at the table. With Joker unable to see him, he took the opportunity to look at the picture he’d snapped of the card he’d received in the office mail, now displayed on his gauntlet.

It was one of the sample invitations the latest wedding planner had shown Bruce a little over a week ago, but with the lavender envelope unceremoniously stuffed with heart-shaped confetti and the location in the invite written as coordinates. Underneath the embossed cursive of ‘Join us for a very special day…’, scrawled in John’s unmistakable handwriting, was “Life’s a game, so let’s play! ♡ Love, Your Joker”. 

He glanced at the ‘body’ slumped at the table. The joke was not lost on him.

He didn’t entirely understand why John was doing this, but the phrase mano e mano felt appropriate. He’d clearly have to play this one-versus-one game with Joker to get an answer.

The faux-bodies weren’t dressed in anything familiar. Just two very old and tired suits. Bruce had a nagging suspicion Joker had fished them out of the garbage. Probably along with the mannequins.

The nearest sat at the table, with chipped painted eyelashes and lipstick, sporting red paint dripping down from the neck into a once white collar and a fork stuck in one polished hand. Closer inspection showed many little dents and spots of red, like someone had stabbed it six times. Bruce set the miniature drone from his belt to scan the whole room for reference.

The other hand was tied tightly to the chair with a zip-tie, a gold line painted on the ring finger. A glance at the feet (only one of which wore a red stiletto heel) showed both tied in the same manner.

“Don’t keep your thoughts to yourself, detective,” Joker told him, “Go ahead, walk me through what you’re deducing.”

Impatient as always, Bruce thought to himself. “Clearly, this would-be-victim was tortured for information before they were ultimately killed,” Bruce answered. Bruce used the BatComputer connection on his gauntlet to scan the heart-monitor tag. “The ‘heart’ stopped at 12:15AM two days ago.”

“Ooh, very good, Batsy,” John said with a little round of applause. “Now you know what I was doing when I slipped away on patrol the other night, ha ha ha!”

For a moment, Bruce thought about asking just how he set the whole thing up. But the question died on his tongue before he had the chance to ask; the truth was that he didn’t really want to know. And he doubted John – Joker persona or no – would actually tell him. That was part of the game.

Bruce took one last look at the table setting. Both dinner knives were missing, as well as the other fork. The napkin by the empty seat was proper linen, still folded to show off an “S” embroidered in the corner. The wine glass was half-filled with white wine, which had a sweeter bouquet reminiscent of Moscato.

He cast his attention to the living room area, catching Joker’s eye on the television set. That red grin of his widened a bit more, too-green eyes lit up in the way they often did when Batman had one of his more violent cases. Or when he opposed him on the gym mat, ready to dodge and lunge and mirror his moves like they were dancing instead of practicing fighting.

Bruce tore his gaze away from him, heart thumping and trying not to think about the last time he’d pinned John to the vinyl, where sweat and primal urges had overtaken their senses.

He honed in on the second ‘body’, lying on the couch with a dinner knife stuck in the torso, where it would’ve gouged the lung but missed the heart outright. A matching line of gold was painted on the left hand, just like on the other ‘victim’. Purple and blue spots were painted on the face to show bruising; Bruce lifted the dress shirt to see more on the torso, indicating a fight had taken place.

The wine bottle was broken on the floor further away, a sticky stain gleaming on the carpet. The other utensils littered the floor, all likely thrown by the married partner at the table in an attempt to hit the ‘killer’.

The use of the dinner knife in place of a gunshot or one of Joker’s other knives indicated that the would-be-killer didn’t come there to kill him…

“Bat in your belfry?” Joker asked from the television.

“The stabbed victim must have known the killer,” he answered, “His place at the table was undisturbed, meaning he got up to answer the door; a fight broke out. The partner tried to save the victim by hurling the dinnerware and the wine – the victim was stabbed with the dinner knife, and bled out on the couch while the killer turned towards the partner and proceeded to try and torture the information out of them.”

“Bra-vo!” Joker clapped earnestly. “I didn’t make it too easy, did I? Hah, of course not – you don’t know the why yet.”

Bruce shifted through the dummy’s pockets. No wallet (of course), but there was a key hidden in his ticket pocket. The key to his heart, Bruce surmised, seeing the Joker-esque pun in the placement. Having learned to pick locks at the age of twelve, he knew the shape and size of the key indicated a simple locker. Like that of a gym or an indoor pool. Some place John would be able to walk into without a care…if he didn’t get someone else to do it for him, anyway.

So the makeshift crime was hiding something in a public locker, the location of which was kept secret from the partner tied to the table, or else the key would’ve been discovered. But they must have divulged something, or else there would be more wounds on the ‘body’ at the table…

The floor rocked underneath Bruce’s boots with the familiar crackling boom of an explosion somewhere underneath.

“Okay, before you ask, that wasn’t me,” Joker said in mock-defensiveness.

Bruce glimpsed the plume of smoke rising outside the window. Judging by the height of the smoke and the sound earlier, it was likely two floors underneath him. Something powerful enough to rattle the floor but not enough to break through more than one floor. He slid the pane open and leaned out - exactly as he thought. “I have -”

“- to go!” Joker quickly finished for him, “Yeah, obviously! Just fill me in later!”

Bruce grabbed his smoke-filtering mask from the back of his belt, clicked it into place with the rest of his helmet, and stuck the end of his grappling hook firmly to the window ledge before swinging himself out and down to the third floor.

The broken window led into what was once a used office now set ablaze. Bruce could feel the searing heat hit his face as if he’d walked into an oven.

Scorch marks stemmed from what was left of the cheap metal filing cabinet in the corner with the remains of a homemade explosive in the very center. Several feet away lied a very real corpse amongst burnt scraps of paper, the charred remains of an old laptop, and a broken whiskey bottle.

The face was too burnt from the intense heat of the explosion to tell him much. Male Caucasian, mid-thirties maybe, if not a little younger if the build and clothes were anything to go by. The digital clock face of the bomb timer, now fairly melted, lay near his head.

The old sprinkler system kicked on just as Bruce bent over the body to pick out the wallet from the man’s back pocket. Droplets rolled down the clear plastic of the ID showing the once-bushy eyebrows of one Mr. Rocky Hopper . 

The door to the small office was still closed, the old letters someone had once painted on reading “Hartright Detective Agency”.

Bruce knew that name. Richard Hartright was once with the GCPD, going private about five years ago. And more importantly, up until her ‘disappearance’, he was one of Vicki Vale’s primary sources. 

Bruce stared at the smoking body on the floor. The easiest explanation was that someone wanted to destroy Detective Hartright and his files and just mis-wired the bomb.

But as he was so often reminded, things in Gotham were never easy. 

He re-enabled the earpiece in his cowl. “Oracle, I need information on Rocky Hopper.” 

“On it,” Iman’s voice crackled through the comm-link. Bruce cast a look down at the body. “And send a cadaver alert to Gordon.”

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

Author Notes: We're here at last, my friends!!! SEASON FIIIIVVVEEEE!

It only took, like, two extra years to get here. But with a very good reason. Some of which I will divulge at a later, less spoilery date. But the short, short version is that a certain character I thought to include kept messing up everything so I couldn't write. So I pulled the lever, their chair dipped back, and they fell down a pit and died. It was for the best, really.

But that's okay. We're here to have fun. And boy oh boy, is it gonna be great! Hope you're looking forward to it!

Fun fact: By hilarious coincidence, one of the earliest detective novels, "The Woman in White" features a protagonist named Walter Hartright. Walter is credited as showing a lot of modern PI/detective techniques, despite not being a detective.

I have never read the story, much less hear of it until I decided to look up the surname while editing months ago just in case it linked to someone unsavory. (Season 4's title is unfortunately like that of a disgustingly racist film. At least now the phrase is linked to a gay murder mystery with two POC women in hero roles... But I didn't want to make the same mistake twice.) When I need to write a name, I either pick the first thing that pops in my head, or I put a place-marker like "XXX" and highlight it in red so I can't miss it during a reread. In this case, the name popped into my head - it sounds like a good detective name, right? I was delightfully weirded out that it worked so well.

#batman #batman the telltale series #telltale batman #telltale batjokes #batjokes #juce #the perseverance project #fangs of ouroboros #I'm a little late #(as usual)

[his-red-right-hand]

His Red Right Hand, Chapter 1

The cool night air hit your face as a welcome balm as you stepped outside of the crowded house, pushing the back door closed behind you to semi-successfully muffle the loud music of the party. Leaning against it for a moment, you took a couple of centering breaths and then took a few steps out into the night. You didn’t even want to be at this damn thing, but you’d already cancelled too many plans with your friends to be able to get out of this one. Hindsight being 20/20, you probably should have suffered through a bar trivia night to avoid a college party. Crappy beer, loud music, and leering guys weren’t exactly your scene. Or at least not these days. Did you even really have a scene any more?

Not that you’d exactly been hanging out with your friends that much anyway. It hadn’t taken much more than an hour for them all to eventually disappear off into conversations and groups with people who actually wanted to be there, people who actually had the desire and will to try and be interesting. Something you just didn’t seem to didn’t have in you these days, not like you used to. Plus, you were pretty sure - before you entirely lost track of her - that you’d seen Sarah doing some shots, which meant that your ride home was going to be sleeping it off on the floor somewhere before too long. Well, if you were going to be walking home, you might as well start now. Fuck,  if you made good time you might even make the last bus, which would cut the walk in half.

With a softly huffed “Fuck it,” you set off across the mostly dead grass. You could cut through the gardens around here to get to the road without having to try and wade through the sweaty throngs of the party. It sucked you didn’t have your walkman with you for some music, but at least if you got too cold you could always actually put your flannel on, rather than just having it tied around your waist. Grunge was just not really designed for Florida. And sure, there was a serial killer about, but that guy killed people in their homes, not mildly trespassing in gardens.

You were shaken from your thoughts by a bright flash of light off a little ways to your side, behind some so-called privacy bushes that were meant to keep people from peeking into the garden. Not that you were sure why anyone would want to look into the garden of a shitty college house. But - was that a camera flash? What the hell was someone taking pictures of outside a shitty party? There was something niggling in the back of your brain, telling you that this was a terrible idea, but maybe it was the cheap beer, or maybe it was some faulty instinct you didn’t quite understand - and then. as you stepped around the hedges to see what was going on, you realised you really should’ve listened to that niggle.

Gore greeted you, three bodies of boys you think you vaguely recognised as some of your hosts. The blood and the expressions of terror made it a little difficult. Entrails spilled onto the grass from one, gutted from sternum to groin, like a hunter gutting fresh game. Another’s head tilted back at an obscene angle, his throat sliced open, the delicate tubework of life laid bare. The last was just a mess of blood and flesh, like he had stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and just more and more even though you weren’t quite sure it ever counted as a body any more.

And standing in the middle of this bloody tableau, right in front of you, taking several pictures of this display that he was clearly very proud of, was Roseville’s resident serial killer.

The Ghost Face.

Click-FLASH!

Another polaroid was spat out of his camera, his gloved fingers taking it and waiting, impatiently if the tapping of the flat of his blade against his thigh was any indication, for it to develop.

The blood spray had arced artfully over the white mask he was wearing, his long robe jacket thing. This close you could see that the hood was a separate piece, was splattered with so much more. A pleased sounding chuckle emerged from the figure, the camera and polaroid was secreted back in a pocket somewhere; maybe that’s what all the straps were for? And then his head turned. And now he was looking straight at you.

You stared into those empty black eye holes and they stared back into you. It felt like an eternity of you just looking at each other, time felt like it stopped existing as you were sure these were your last moments alive.

The moment stretch and then snapped as he took a menacing step forwards, only to pause and tilt his head to the side as you continued to stand still.

There were dead bodies here. He had killed them. He was about to kill you. You should run.

Why?

Why should you run?

Wait, why should you run?

This was the most interesting thing that had ever happened to you in your entire life, and you were about to die.

As you considered your imminent demise, and your struggle to give any fucks about it, the killer marched towards you, some sort of decision made. He grabbed a fist full of your tank top and spun the two of you, pushing you towards the wall of the house. You moved with him, trying very hard not to think about the soft and squelching things under your boots. Your back hitting the wall with enough momentum to force an exhale from you; this whole time your gaze transfixed by the empty holes of the mask where his eyes should be.

He cocked his head to the side, breaking the intensity of the eye contact; and now you were very aware of three other things. One was that the blade of his knife was pressed up against your throat, biting into the skin just enough that if you moved you’d cut yourself.  If he decided to apply any more pressure you would be adding to the blood on him. Another thing was that your nose was now full of his musky cologne, feeling almost light-headed with it. Or maybe that was the adrenaline of being in the middle of getting murdered.

And the third? That would be as you had moved together, you were deliberately not thinking of how well you had both moved in sync, you had grabbed onto one of the straps running across his chest. And you were holding on to it tightly as a lifeline.

“It’s not fun if you don’t run.” His rough voice seemed to carry a note of genuine disappointment in it, releasing his hold on your tank top, apparently the knife at your throat was enough to keep you still for him.

“I’m sorry...?” You roughly swallowed to try and get some moisture into your dry mouth, mentally cursing and letting out a hiss of pain as you felt blood well up against the knife blade. Fuck that thing was sharp. “I-I won’t ask you to make it quick or painless or anything?”

The angle of the blade shifted minutely, drawing more blood, and he bent his head in towards your throat to watch it roll down your skin. He was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of him against you, acutely aware of his other arm resting against the wall next to your head, effectively caging you in place even if there wasn’t a knife at your throat. You tried to shift your hips a little against the wall to ease the sensations building there without pressing them into him: you might be suicidal, but not quite that much. This was not the time for your thing about knives to rear its ugly head. Or your thing with blood either.

“You won’t, will you?” he asked, his voice cracking strangely as he almost growled the last part. Was he using something to change his voice? He straightened back up and easing the pressure on the blade, trailing the tip down the column of your neck, across your collarbone, slipping under the thin strap of your top and applying pressure again and you could hear him let out a breath as more of your blood welled up, pooling against your skin. “You wanna die that bad? Or is it just me?”

He pressed closer to you, the tip of your nose almost touching his mask. Fuck, the rich musk of his cologne was never going to leave you if you lived past this night. His thigh shoved itself between yours, every last shred of control you had went into not clenching onto it. As you let out a whimper, he pressed the knife deeper into your flesh, and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed as all your other senses were so full of him.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly and you snapped your eyes back open, earning yourself a chuckle and a purred “Good girl.”

Oh. Fuck.

“Oh man, you want it bad... You're practically aching for it.” 

You almost wanted to cry as he pulled back from you, just enough for the tip of his knife run slowly down your chest, over your top, tracing its way between your breasts to rest over your heart.

“Ask me nicely.”

A frantic swallow as you tried to remember how to talk. 

“Puh-Please.”

“Please what?” His thigh pressed up harder between your legs and you lost your battle not to clench against him.

“Please kill me.” He let out a harsh breath, whatever electronics altering his voice giving it a harsh crackle.

“Say my name,” he growled, the knife dropping down to his side so he could press so close to you now, chest pressed against chest; and all you could do was stare back into the eye holes of his mask.

“Please Mister Ghost Face. Kill me.” You surprised yourself by not having your voice shake. And by meaning every single word. “Fucking do it. Please.”

“You asked me so nicely...” A hand pressed tightly over your mouth to muffle your cries, eyes going wide with the sudden pain of his knife sliding into your side. He let out an approving noise as tears started to spill from you, the thigh between your legs now most of what was keeping you upright. “But that’s going to have to be a no from me.” 

Wait, what? Your brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled his hand off your mouth, taking a moment to gently caress your cheek before taking your hand that was still death gripped onto one of his chest straps and pressing it onto your stab wound. 

“There we go, pressure on that darling...” He slid the knife back out, another electric crackle over a growl as you cried in pain, your hand firmly pressed against it to staunch the bleeding.

Your legs crumpled under you as that solid thigh finally withdrew, leaving you a whimpering mess on the ground. He bent over to check that your hand was positioned properly, taking your other one to add pressure. Everything was growing hazy. You could feel the life draining out of you despite his efforts. A bright flash made you squint, the mechanical noise of a polaroid being spat out enough to get you to tilt your head up just enough to look at the mask again.

“One for the scrapbook.” He let out a dark chuckle, shaking the picture. “We are going to have a lot of fun babe. And if you’re real good, I might just gut you.”

He might have said more, but that was the point where the darkness decided to take you.

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #dbd #dead by daylight #fiction

[dinitride-art]

Lighting and Mike and Will and El - Full Analysis (Pt. 11)

Alright, so, we’ve buried a body, and now we’re having a nice chat about being scared of our feelings on top of a car. 

S4:E5 - Seven Up

We start out looking at Mike and Will. This is our establishing shot for this scene. The lighting is falling on them relatively equally from this perspective; half in the light, half in shadow. It’s also interesting that we see the dark cliff on Mike’s side, and the lighter desert and sky from Will’s. Even here we’re seeing lighting discrepancies. 

Honourable mention of Mike’s 7-UP can. It’s right in front of my face, I can’t just ignore it. It’s also paralleled to the Molotov cocktails, in Nancy, Steve and Robin’s fight against Vecna. The label on the bottle said Four Ball. When Robin threw hers, her thumb covered up the word ‘Ball’. This was some neat foreshadowing of the Vecna’s plan working with the four gates. Drink cans have been reoccurring themes within the whole series, so it’s not crazy to think that there might be symbolism here as well.  

I’m including this shot here because of the parallel it has too the burial scene. It also shows the true value of the mountain behind Mike being lighter than in the establishing shot, and Will’s lighting getting brighter. 

This shot here, while we can see that Will’s face is in the light, is important because of Will’s positioning. This isn’t the first time that Mike and Will have been in the same light, but tilted so we see Will’s face in the light and Mike’s in the dark. We can sort of see this in the apology scene, when Will is placed in a way that the light shines brighter on him than Mike, even though they are in the same lighting. We see that they’re in the same lighting later on when we get Will’s perspective of Mike. 

This scene is a little different in that their positioning is far more obvious. This is also an over-the-shoulder shot. So that means that we’ve got an understanding here between Mike and Will with what’s being  said. But also showing that we’re looking at Will from Mike’s perspective. 

The mountains behind Mike are in shadow whereas Will’s background is fully lit. Mike here is turned away from the light, as little on his face in the view of the camera as possible. 

The contrast between Will and Mike continues to get more and more obvious as we get through the season. Eventually we end up at the cabin scene with the literally rays of sunlight shining down onto Will. The lights always been here, carefully growing in a gradient. 

Unintentional lighting don’t grow brighter in a gradient across a season. 

A few things on this shot here. One, we see a front view of Mike and Will. This is again giving us a normally lit perspective of them. It’s also angled in a way that it could be either Argyle or Jonathan, or it could just be the general direction of them. I believe that in this scene we switch back and forth between Mike and Will, and Argyle, so this could also just be indicating that. 

Either way it gives us a neutral lighting perspective. 

Another thing to note here, symbolically, is that seven up can. In the establishing shot we couldn’t see the seven on the can. But now? We’re at an angle that it’s visible. Again, it’s not the only time this season that they’re done this sort of foreshadowing/symbolism, so it’s worth looking a little further in depth at this placement here.

The seven on the can is tied to a few things: the first episode of season one, Mike being conveniently out of episode seven, and probably a few other occurrences that I am not aware of. 

What I really want to highlight here isn’t just the can, it’s the combination of the can, the scene and the sign in the background. Surfer Boy Pizza. The logo here is cut in half and we only see the word Boy.

Seven up can, Mike and Will, boy. 

The light is shining on that seven up can and everything else here is sending a pretty clear message. 

As we can see the lighting is normal for the rest of the scene. There may be a little more on Will than the others, but it’s not much. 

The paper here isn’t in the light. Which is weird. There isn’t anything to hide here, the numbers are written clearly and it’s in the middle of the frame. If our full attention was to be brought to it, wouldn't it be fully illuminated? This goes back to Mike’s perspective of El and the lack of lighting there is when she’s in his perspective. 

And we have Argyle’s rainbow socks. 

Will keeps getting brighter but we don’t notice it as much because of how carefully it’s built up. During the apology, Mike and Will’s backgrounds were mostly the same, but here? Will’s whole frame is glowing compared to Mike. 

Other added symbolism helps give meaning to this scene, but even on it’s own the light is saying a lot. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (To be edited)

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #byler analysis #the lights #i rewatched eps 8 and 9 #and oooh boy do i have some thoughts #but also i realized that i needed to split this further #because i remembered will when he was singing #and ive got some stuff to say there as well

[fictionalmenownmyheart]

Swing Those Hips Wifey • miles teller

Hello! I’m still sort of new to how everything works on tumblr so please bear with me on this. I hope you enjoy this because it came to me at 2am and I had to write it down quickly so I didn’t forget anything so it’s probably not perfect even after some editing. After reading so many rooster x reader fics here on tumblr, which I have absolutely loved, I hope I’ve done okay with this. Please let me know what you think and any help would be much appreciated. I hope the title and photo (below) speak for themselves in what this is going to be about, I’ve seen this everywhere on Instagram (I can’t find a gif of Miles in his white suit replicating the move so I’ve put the next best thing, or first, or equally as good) and just had to do this, I couldn’t stop myself.

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

Warnings: very short and fluffy, one swear word used at the end

Miles Teller x fem!reader

Word count: 522 (does this make it a drabble or is the worthy of being a one shot? Or both maybe?)

I couldn’t believe I was here. Having been married to Miles for 6 years now I knew what to expect at these things but it never meant I was fully prepared for all these cameras and eyes on me, I definitely much preferred being behind the camera and left being in front of one to Miles.

I liked being Y/N Teller, supportive wife of the gorgeous man and amazing actor, Miles Teller, but mostly from behind the scenes.

At the moment I was talking to one of the interviewers whilst my husband was elsewhere. I couldn’t have said no to them, that would have been rude and I remember Miles’ words to have a good time before we had arrived here so that is what I was going to make sure to do.

“Enjoy yourself baby, I’ll catch up and find you later.” He had said to me earlier, as he kissed me on the lips softly.

So here I was being asked about his new role as Rooster in the long awaited film, Top Gun: Maverick. “Thank you so much for coming over and talking to me Y/N, last question, I was wondering if you could show us your own version of your husbands now iconic beach scene moment.”

I instantly knew what they meant and I laughed good heartedly.

Everyone had soon become obsessed with the shirtless body rolling, shaking thing Miles had done in the movie and I was happy to oblige.

“I’ll give it a go but I can’t guarantee it’s going to be as good as Miles, he’s got it down to a T.” I start moving my body shaking my shoulders and rolling in a way that he did in the scene, replicating it as close as possible to how he did, moving with as much rhythm as I could manage whilst trying not to feel awkward or too out of my comfort zone.

“How was that?” I ask as I notice the interviewer looking beyond me over my shoulder probably at Tom who I knew was near by.

Even though I’d gotten to know him really well during filming I still get starstruck so I completely understood why the focus was taken off me.

“Swing those hips wifey, that was amazing. Trying to steal my moves I see and doing them better than me,” My husband calls from right behind me and places his hand on my hip as he comes and stands beside me. I look up into his beautiful brown eyes and get lost in the love I see in them and a hidden burning fiery gaze of heat that is easier to notice in his depths from how close we’re standing.

We finish the interview together, the interviewer clearly more than happy to talk to Miles as well. Not that I could blame them.

Once we’re finished and walking away Miles grips my hip tighter and leans down and whispers in my ear, “When we get home I hope to see more of those swinging hips baby, so fucking sexy.” I blush profusely but don’t disagree with him.

#miles teller #miles teller x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #tom cruise #top gun maverick #miles teller x wife!reader

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Note: I’m still having issues posting this as quick as I would like, I’m sorry! To anyone who has read the first two chapters or left a note, thank you so much! 🤍

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Pedro is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 3:

Knowing that Barb was not kidding about the coffee, I make sure to stop at a cafe on my way to set. I also made sure to toss a spare t-shirt in my trunk this time, just in case. Luckily today's call time was a very late 6:00am, so I had an extra hour and a half of sleep under my belt. Hopefully that will make the possibility of mistakes lessened today.

For most of the day, things go off without a hitch. We're filming a couple of reshoots from yesterday's scenes, as well a couple of more indoor shots of another part of the CIA set. Nothing too crazy. By noon, I'm depositing Lloyd's dog, Pebbles, back in his trailer and heading into the soundstage again. I find my place next to Lana by the craft service's table right before they start the next take.

"Okay..." Lana mumbles out of the corner of her mouth. "I may have been wrong."

I glance sideways over at Lloyd and the producers seated behind the camera. I've been chewed out once for talking during a take, and once was enough.

"Wrong about what?" I keep my voice at the same level.

"Javi, how he wouldn't remember your little encounter yesterday."

My back stiffens.

"Why do you say that?"

Lana pauses, either to think over her words carefully – a rarity for her – or because she wants to make sure we're not overheard or scolded.

"Well, every time Lloyd calls cut, he looks over at you."

I feel heat rise to my cheeks immediately.

"We're standing in front of crafty, Lana. He's probably just hungry."

"Depends on what he's hungry for, I suppose." I can practically hear her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. I lightly slap her on the arm, trying not to draw any attention to ourselves.

Though a part of me can't deny the bubble of excitement I feel at her words, another part of me knows that Lana is my best friend, and she is kind. Kind enough to give me some hope, and maybe a boost of confidence. My last relationship didn't end well, and I met Lana only a few months afterwards when I was still a mess. She's pushed me to go on a few dates since then, but the Los Angeles dating scene is beyond bleak. Plus, it's hard to emulate Lana's optimism when her and Mia have been happily together long before I even arrived in L.A.

"Cut!" Lloyd calls out, "Martin, I'm going to need you at least five paces to the right before Javi delivers his line."

"Aaand cue look..." Lana snickers next to me.

I look up, and sure enough, I make eye contact with Javi as soon as I do. He doesn't look away instantly like I assume he will, and neither do I, like I thought I would. We hold each other's gaze for a moment longer, but his expression gives nothing away. For all I know, he's simply dissociating. But then, I catch the corner of his mouth tip slightly upward, and he peels his eyes away. I mean, he could have been smirking at Lloyd's directions, but I'm not sure.

I hear interference over my walkie.

"Repeat." I say into the mic.

"Hey Ava, it's Dwayne. Talent requested escort to and from their trailer."

"Copy. Who do you want me to escort?"

"Javi, please. You should break for lunch soon, be sure to bring him to his trailer and confirm that his lunch was delivered."

Javi requested an escort?

"Copy. Thanks, Dwayne." I secure the walkie back on my belt.

Lana is gaping at me.

"He requested you to escort him? Ava, take a hint!"

"He didn't request me specifically. He requested an escort. I'm one of the more seasoned PAs and Dawyne probably knows I'm least likely to get lost."

"Right. Sure." Lana says in a tone that is anything but agreeable.

I don't have time to reply before Lloyd calls for lunch. I grab a water bottle and an apple off the crafty table behind me and walk over to Javi, who is just stepping out of the set.

I can keep my cool.

"Mr. Gutierrez, I'm here to escort you back to your trailer?" Oh god, why did it come out like a question?

Javi smiles that same warm smile as yesterday.

"Hi, Ava. Sounds good." He claps his hands together, startling me. "Let's go!"

"Right this way." I lead him out into the sunshine. We walk side by side for a few moments before he breaks the silence.

"How long have you been a PA?" I glance up at his tall frame, which is bent slightly toward me in seemingly genuine curiosity.

"Four years and counting." I give him a polite smile.

"Ah. And do you enjoy it?"

I shrug. "It has its ups and downs, like any job. I do love the film industry, but I could do without the early call times." I'm not sure if I should be this honest with an actor, but his brow has knit together in a way that felt that he wanted the real answer, not just the pleasant one.

"But there is something else you would like to do." It wasn't a question.

"Um...yes. I'm actually in graduate school currently. Online, and I double up on classes when we're on hiatus."

"What are you studying?" He really is curious.

"Film Production. I'd like to be a director someday, or possibly an editor. Later down the line, producing would be my ultimate goal."

Javi raises his eyebrows, nodding slowly. We're almost to his trailer, so he probably is realizing that he has asked me enough questions–

"How old are you?" He blurts out.

It's not totally unusual for talent to make small talk, but that seems like a personal question.

"How old are you?" I counter without thinking. We're stopped in front of his trailer now. I'm holding my breath, unsure if I've offended him.

But then his brown eyes are alight with humor, and I know that I haven't. And then, easing my trepidation further, he laughs. His laugh is bright and breathy. It makes me giggle for a moment too, though I'm unsure why.

"You could just google me." He points out.

"Googling you feels inhumane." I say honestly.

"Inhumane?" He is close to laughing again.

"Yeah, I mean, you can't Google me to find out. But I can do it to you."

"I don't know, you have a pretty Googleable face." He is staring into my eyes now, and I have no idea how to take that or what he just said.

"Well, regardless, it just feels dirty." I walk up the three steps to his trailer and open the door for him.

As he steps inside, so low that I almost don't hear it, he murmurs, "Dirty isn't necessarily a bad thing."

I keep my face turned away from him for as long as possible so he can't see how red it just became. I remind myself that he doesn't know for sure if I heard him, and that my face could also be red from the heat.

I poke my head inside to see if he did indeed get his food. It looks like it's already been dropped off on his table.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Gutierrez?" My hand is on the trailer door, ready to go eat lunch myself.

He regards me for a moment from his chair.

"Yes. Two things. You could call me Javi, and you could join me for lunch."

I hesitate. I wasn't expecting that. His gaze is mostly friendly, but with something else I can't place. No one from talent has asked me that before, and I'm not sure if it's breaking any rules. But, with walking back to craft services to get my own lunch, and then needing to come back and get Javi again to walk back to the soundstage, it would actually save me time to eat here. As in, I would actually have time to eat at all.

"Please, I have plenty." He says, opening up the takeout box on the table.

"Okay, thank you." I take the chair across from him, placing my apple and water bottle on the table.

He takes a large bite of his burger, and me a bite of my apple. Then his eyes go wide and he hunches dramatically over his plate.

"Shit!" He says, mouth full. "I forgot I'm still in my wardrobe." Javi stays in that hunched position as he finishes chewing, clearly being careful of where to put his hands. I get up instinctively, moving to the small kitchenette and grabbing a paper towel for him, but when I turn around he is right behind me, apparently doing the same thing.

"You don't have to do that." He says, grabbing his own paper towel and tucking it into his collar.

"It's my job." I try not to focus too much on his fingers tucking the towel in his shirt as I respond.

"You're not a nanny. I invited you to lunch." He smiles as we sit back down.

"An actor acknowledging that I'm not a nanny is somewhat of an enigma around here." I smirk and take a swig of my water bottle, slightly less worried he will take offense this time.

He puts his hand on his heart in mock-hurt.

"You think so low of my community?"

I chuckle. "Your community has a long way to go."

"If I offer you my fries, would that help our case?" He pushes the plate toward me.

"Possibly..." I accept one of the fries, remembering that I haven't had time to eat all day. I can't help but close my eyes as I take a bite. I really am hungry.

I open my eyes to take another, and I realize that Javi is staring at me. He hasn't taken another bite of his burger. His brows are knit together again, his mouth parted slightly. I feel my breath catch in my throat, and I fake a cough to cover it up.

"I'm sorry, by the way." I keep my tone casual, picking up another fry. "For the other day. I should have done my research on the castlist beforehand."

"Aren't I the one who made you spill your coffee?" He raises an eyebrow. I'm beginning to think there is hardly ever a time where humor isn't filling his eyes.

"You can't be held responsible. It was way too early for any of us to open doors correctly."

"Well on behalf of all actors, I'm sorry too. It doesn't sound like we've made a very good impression."

I shrug. "Some of you aren't too bad. Especially the ones I didn't realize were actors." I smile at him.

"Now I'm offended." Javi takes another bite of his burger, clearly no truth behind his words.

"Well, unless you want to get lost on the way back to the soundstage, you should toughen your skin."

Javi chuckles quietly.

"First you clearly don't watch any of my work, and now you would abandon me?"

"To be fair, I have seen one of your HBO shows. The Passage Of Time, I believe."

"My character wasn't memorable enough for you, huh?" He quirks an eyebrow again.

"I was too focused on the blonde, Huston Katz, at the time." I take a long drink of my water.

"At the time..." Javi repeats back, almost absentmindedly. "So I have a chance at becoming memorable?"

I highly doubt he meant for those words to be filled with the same level of innuendo that I feel now. Luckily, I don't have a chance to respond before he speaks again.

"Besides, I wasn't worried about getting lost. Maybe I just wanted some company."

"Maybe I just wanted some fries." I say, taking a large handful. He laughs, pushing the rest of the plate toward me in defeat.

- - -

By 5:00pm, I'm finally winding down my responsibilities. I have a handful of things to deliver to Barb and her team, and then I should be able to go home. I almost drop everything in my arms when I hear rapid footsteps sprinting behind me, and then two hands grip my shoulders.

"Tell me everything." Lana says breathlessly.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"I don't care. How dare you not find me first before all this." She gestures to the stuff I'm carrying.

"Before my job?" I can't help but laugh.

"Yes!" She has no shame. I love her. "Now tell me!"

"Okay, okay, just keep it on the downlow. Keep in mind this means nothing to him."

"I completely disagree, but continue."

"Well, I escorted him to his trailer and we had lunch."

"If you don't give me actual details I swear to God I will stab you with my walkie."

"Okay. He's... warm."

"Like his skin?" Lana's eyes widen.

"What? No! His words, or I don't know, his personality was warm. Jesus, Lana."

"I mean if you're not going to worry about your sex life, I have to." She folds her arms and I can tell she's growing impatient with me. I'm not certain if she's impatient over how I'm answering her questions, or simply that I didn't have sex with this man in his trailer the moment we were left alone.

"How did doing my job turn into worrying about my sex life?"

"I can just tell these things. And Ava, let's face it, you need to get laid."

I stare at her in shock, my mouth agape.

She shrugs. "I'm just looking out for you. Ever since you and John–"

"The Traitor, you mean."

"Right, The Traitor. Ever since you and The Traitor broke up, you've barely gotten back out there. And now this nice, beautiful man is showing you attention and you don't even want to acknowledge it." Her voice is softer now, and I know that she genuinely wants me to have hope in this situation with Javi.

"I know, okay? I know I haven't really gotten back out there, and I love how you're looking out for me, I really do. But, and it's a very large but, we don't actually know if he is interested. So until we have some concrete evidence, can we just go about our days? Please?"

Lana watches my face for a moment.

"Okay. Fine. But when we do have that concrete evidence, you need to promise me that you'll go for it."

And whether it be the need to finally put down the collection of crap in my arms, or maybe the possibility of a tiny glimmer of hope within me, I nod my head.

"Okay, I promise."

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#pedro #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x original characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #the mandalorian #tlou #narcos #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you

[e-the-village-cryptid]

What did you think of Rogue One?

Ah boy. Ok. First, a disclaimer that this is just my opinion, not me declaring some objective truth about the movie. Just because I felt one way about something doesn't mean I think everyone has to feel that way. If people really liked the movie, I am honestly happy for them! And if you really liked the movie to the point where someone disliking it will upset you, you may want to stop reading now. That said, here's my review.

Overall, I'd give the movie 2.5 stars on a scale of 1-5. Maybe 3 if we're being generous, because it was fun to watch in a casual way at some points, and some things were done well— Jyn's character and Galen's moral quandary were the high points for me. Everything else, though— storytelling, sense of place & visual feel, dialogue, characterization, most of the action sequences, overall plot— was disappointing to me. There was very little originality to be had in any of it, and although of course things don't have to be wildly original and never-been-done to be good, it felt like I'd already seen this movie a hundred times, except done better. Most of all, the majority of it felt flat and lifeless. It would have been extremely forgettable to me if not for Andor having already made me care about some of its characters.

Things I liked:

Jyn as a character. She has an interesting backstory, was well-acted, and has a depth and dimension that I feel the other characters were missing. I am very curious why, upon seeing that movie, the decision was made to dive into Cassian's backstory instead of Jyn's (although of course I'm glad we got Andor!). I think Jyn's time growing up being trained by Saw Gerrera would make quite an interesting story. (Watching her singlehandedly wreck like 12 people while Cassian watched in awe was definitely fun, haha.)

Galen's choice. I think this posed a truly interesting question. Was it true that the Death Star would have just been built without him? Would the destruction of Alderaan have happened without him? Did building in the flaw make up for the fact that he still in fact built it? Did his choice save lives or destroy them? Did he do it because he truly believed he could save lives that way, or because he was just trying to stay alive himself? Was it bravery or cowardice, or both in some strange combination?

K2. He was fun to watch, good comic relief, and I empathized with him a lot.

The death scene on the Scarif beach. Beautifully shot, acted, and directed. No notes.

The music. Lovely, orchestral, classic Star Wars scoring.

Things I didn't like:

My main issue with the movie is how flat everything felt. The characters, the setting— everything felt lifeless. It was hard to get emotionally invested because nothing felt like there was a true spark of life behind it. I'll go by points here.

The settings. The visual effects fell flat to me, but even beyond that, there was no humanity behind places like Jedha. It felt like the extras were told to mill back-and-forth aimlessly in front of the camera, rather than being given something to do that would give us a background glimpse into the culture of a place, as on Ferrix in Andor. The lack of depth to the setting made the locations feel like sets, not planets, and made it hard to feel a real sense of place and emotional connection.

Pretty much every character except Jyn was completely one-dimensional. None of them felt like real people at all, just devices to move the plot along. They each had their character archetype and were not allowed to deviate from it at all, and their choices came not from their characterization or their motivations, but from whatever the story needed in that moment. Their decisions felt contrived, making the characters not believable as people.

Many parts of it felt afraid of genuine emotion. It would pull back on the sincerity right as people died, refusing to actually let the emotional impact hit. Maybe this is a function of being directed at a younger audience, I don't know, but to me it felt like a refusal to take the world and people seriously in a way that affected my emotional investment.

The plot felt like a straight highway where you can see right through to the end and there's nothing by the wayside but endless fields of corn. I'm not even asking for twists, it's just... there was just not much there at all. No real arcs aside from the main one of getting the death star plans, no interesting or unexpected wrenches in the main plan, just... bland.

The action sequences were almost comically cliched. Nothing wrong with some well-used tropes, but after the second time Jyn wound up hanging off some ledge by one hand and had to dramatically haul herself back up, I could no longer keep from rolling my eyes.

Much of the dialogue was stiff and not believable. It didn't feel like people talking, it felt like the writers trying to deliver information.

The blocking was often very contrived and awkward to the point of feeling goofy.

Wow, they really managed to pull the "magical Asian" trope AND the "blind but can ~sense~ everything around them so don't worry they're not actually disabled" trope in one character. Really being efficient here.

(Also, not a critique but I am so genuinely confused on why they were all so dismissive of Chirrut. They treated him like just a wannabe, but... The man can literally dodge bullets and read minds, why the fuck is that not impressive or even like... useful to any of you?? Truly baffling, I do not understand it at all. "He's not actually a Jedi, so his ability to do crazy levels of Force magic that none of us can do doesn't really count" huh????)

(Also not a critique, just another thing I'm confused about now after watching— Why has Saw been so vilified, in canon and by fandom? "He's an extremist" everyone here is literally involved in a violent rebellion, he's doing the same thing "He's uncooperative with the other rebels" Rogue One also went rogue, because the other rebels were wishy washy and unwilling to commit "using Bor Gullet to read people's minds is so unethical" no more unethical than shooting your own source in the back of the head. What happened to enjoying grey morality? Anyway I stan Saw forever.)

#oof this got long #i'm gonna get anon hate for this lol #listen i was 1. directly asked 2. very careful with the disclaimers #ask tag #an e original