#he’s never winning that media darling award ever again

[joeyisourranger]

“that was for him, you know. if you talk shit it’s going to come back at you”

#SORRY I’LL NEVER BE OVER THIS BTWWWW #scoob inspired this one #i hope arsi is proud #he’s never winning that media darling award ever again #i needed to be in bed HOURS AGO #avs lb #cannot believe yue missed the most dramatic arsirane night in MONTHS

[garudabluffs]

Awards are meaningless Feb 23, 2023

From the Oscars to best in business, why do we do awards for adults?

"It’s pay-to-play”

"You’ve probably heard about the whole participation trophy thing — the complaint that there’s something deeply wrong with America because a bunch of first-graders got a ribbon for drawing a picture that wasn’t even that good or something. The whole debate, which has persisted for decades at this point, tends to feel pretty ridiculous, largely because it is. Plenty of things are deeply wrong with America today; being nice to 6-year-olds isn’t super one of them. For one thing, if we’re going to be upset about awards, the ones we give to adults are a whole lot weirder when you think about it."

"Awards are less about who’s best at the game but instead who’s hacked the game best."

READ MORE https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2023/2/23/23610516/awards-oscars-grammys-best-business-media

= =>>https://www.vox.com/22946366/the-big-squeeze

2023 Grammy Awards: The Beyoncé paradox February 3, 2023

How the Grammys got themselves in a pickle (and how they might make it worse)

There are any number of storylines that could emerge from this year's Grammy Awards, which will be handed out on Sunday, February 5. But if we are narrowing things down to the night's most coveted prizes, the four awards in the general category — record of the year, album of the year, song of the year and best new artist — some narratives begin to take shape (mostly, if we are being honest, around whether or not the Academy will once again fail to award a top prize to Beyoncé).

To begin to wrap our minds around all the affirming and deflating possibilities, NPR Music gathered four critics to pick apart the nominees in those top four categories to try and figure out which surprises and/or inevitabilities await.

RECORD OF THE YEAR

Ann Powers: "We begin with a paradox, a Zen riddle: a widely anticipated win this year may also feel like the biggest surprise. Beyoncé, inexplicable bridesmaid in all but one of the major Grammy categories since Destiny's Child's "Say My Name" nom in 2001 (her one win was Song of the Year in 2010 for "Single Ladies") may grab the gramophone for Renaissance across categories this year, and a sweep for her would feel like justice while breaking a pattern of exclusion that has come to feel inevitable. Record of the Year is the spot where she's been most rejected — seven times — and might feel like a bigger triumph than even an Album of the Year win. "Break My Soul" announced Renaissance, a new concept and beginning for the woman who'd seemingly done everything. And the song has the grand scale and spirit of a Grammy shoo-in. I could see some fuddy-duddy Grammy voters still resisting Bey in the album category, even though Renaissance is definitely a unified listening experience. No dance music album by a Black artist has ever won in the album slot (John Travolta and some French robots have taken home the prize in past years), and, as an alternative, the gospel-ish uplift of "Break My Soul" might appeal to voter still stuck on rock and ballad-ish pop.

That said, another widely anticipated ROTY win wouldn't feel like a surprise at all. Harry Styles is an industry darling whose rabid fan base no longer only consists of teenage girls (never taken seriously by Grammy voters, at their peril). In the philosophical bon bon "As It Was," he had 2023's most popular smash by far. I could see him winning here and Bey shining elsewhere. Or maybe the pie will be cut three ways and Kendrick Lamar, also up for every top slot plus, will take this one for "The Heart Part 5" with Styles nabbing song and Bey getting her album trophy. Other Grammy faves are hanging out here, too: Don't underestimate the feel-good power of Lizzo or of Brandi Carlile, whose live performances with her spouse Katherine have turned "You and Me On the Rock" into the 21st century's most unexpected marriage-equality anthem. The rest of the nominees feel deeply unlikely to me."

S.P. "The prospect of another white artist shutting Beyoncé out completely seems unfathomable and, frankly, indefensible, but given the way voters have treated Beyoncé in recent years, it feels even less likely that she might somehow steamroll through the generals, despite her recent music's all-consuming inevitability."

ALBUM OF THE YEAR

S.T.: "Beyoncé's Renaissance is the album of the year by virtue of its wire-to-wire excellence and its cultural cachet."

"If you're looking for a prevailing storyline for the 2023 Grammy Awards, consider that Beyoncé — who has won 28 Grammys and counting, closing in on the record for the most by any artist in the awards' history — has never won album or record of the year. Her track record in the general categories has rightly infuriated fans:

BEST NEW ARTIST

S.Y. : "In a similar vein, the entire Americana industry has sensibly lined up behind Molly Tuttle, an impeccable bluegrass flatpicker and singer-songwriter whose clear prowess could appeal to the kinds of folk who like kinds of folk, and anything else you might inadvisably call "real music."

Ann Powers: "My Nashville hometown would be absolutely delighted if Molly walked away with this little record player – she's already a champion here, having won seven International Bluegrass Music Association Awards since she came on the scene in the mid-2010s. And her latest album Crooked Tree is a powerful mission statement: a challenge to bluegrass, a deeply conservative genre, to reinvigorate itself through open-hearted innovation. But her commercial reach remains more limited, for now, and as Nate points out, that seems to matter now in this category." '...Tuttle, who's now 30, and made her first album (with her dad) at 13.'

READ MORE https://www.npr.org/2023/02/03/1152837041/2023-grammy-awards-preview

But this particular year, Beyoncé not winning the Grammys’ most prestigious award did feel pretty close to discrediting the entire enterprise. Everyone knew it in advance, as spelled out in headlines such as “The Beyoncé Paradox,” “It’s Beyoncé’s Time to Shine at the Grammys … Right?,” and, most aggressively, in the Los Angeles Times, “Grammys, You Have One Job on Sunday: Give Beyoncé Album of the Year.”

"It’s because this is the third consecutive studio album for which Beyoncé Knowles has been nominated and then passed over for a white artist, despite all three records’ status as music-industry milestones. Last time this happened, in 2017, Adele’s acceptance speech was just an abject apology for 25’sbeating Lemonade, which didn’t much help. It’s because, although Beyoncé last night officially became the most awarded individual in the history of the Grammys, only 1 of those 32 prizes has come in the Recording Academy’s top, cross-genre categories—“Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It),” as song of the year in 2010. And it’s because Renaissance is not only, in my opinion, Beyoncé’s best album, it’s one presented precisely on terms that the Grammys ought to understand. It might not have her very best songs, but it is an album as analbum, an extended conceptual statement encompassing decades of music history in dialogue with the present."

READ MORE https://slate.com/culture/2023/02/grammys-2023-winners-beyonce-harry-styles.html

#awards reward #recognition commercial advertisement

[angelamajiki]

PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

#yandere endeavor #yandere endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji todoroki x reader #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji todoroki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #yandere boku no hero academia

[parkersdoll]

Hiii can I maybe get Tom x singer reader who’s never been at a red carpet event and has anxiety and is at a premier for Toms movie and her whispering to Tom when she get anxious and Tom whispering stuff to her even as photographers scream at them and the next day their all over social media people in awe about how cute they look thank you

sweet nothings - t.holland

Pairing: tom holland x famous!reader

Word Count: 433

Warnings: fluff, mentions of anxiety

Description: tom is always there to soothe your nerves, based on the above request.

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅

Thomas Stanley Holland, world renowned, award winning actor.

Y/n Y/l/n, pop sensation, singer-songwriter.

When you and Tom began seeing each other, the spotlight was bound to be on the pair of you. The two of you were very well known in your distinct industries. Your specialty was writing and releasing music, which allowed you to build quite the name for yourself. You and Tom happened to cross paths when you produced a track for his latest film, Spiderman No Way Home. Your song played during the closing credits, you were extremely proud of yourself for landing such an exciting job. Tom was rather interested in learning more about the behind the scenes of filmmaking, so one afternoon when he had some free-time he stopped by the studio you were recording in. You two were inseparable ever since, which leads us to now.

“Tom, y/n, give us a big smile” FLASH

“y/n c'mon, look at the camera” FLASH

You were at the premier for Spiderman No Way Home. The film is highly anticipated by the public, fans screaming in a frenzy when you and Tom arrive. As great as the premier is, and as proud as you should be, you can’t help but notice the anxiety bubbling in your chest. You have never been to a movie premier before, so far it has been quite intense. Tom seems to notice you stressing, perhaps your clammy hands gave it away. He pulls you in closer to his side, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Remember, don’t worry about them. Focus on me darling” he says loud enough so you can hear, but quiet enough so nobody else can. You can feel your nerves ease at his words, he truly knows how to help you feel grounded. He brings you back to earth.

He takes your still trembling hands in his and walks you further down the red carpet. The pair of you pose again, smiling for the cameras. You take notice of how Tom smooths down your dress for you, making sure you feel comfortable. Your loving behaviour toward one another seems to send fans into a frenzy, awing at the sight of your clasped hands.

Tom eventually walks the two of you off the red carpet, into the venue. You take this moment to cup his cheeks, making him look down at you.

“Thank you, you’re my real life superhero.” you smile up at him. He grins back, the crinkles by his eyes becoming prominent.

Tom may play a superhero on the big screen, but in real life he can’t help but share the same qualities.

-

authors note: thank you for reading! please like and reblog, your support means the world

#marvel #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[blissfulparker]

A Work in progress→T.H

Parings: Tom Holland x Actress!reader

Summary: when You and Tom both have each other as a celebrity crush, you two unknowingly take on the role of each other’s lovers in a new movie and are expected to make it real. When the director puts the two of you in a house for the weekend to get to know each other there is little more to rehearsing than just your lines.

Warnings: awkwardness in the first half, smut(oral female), sexual tension

A/n: this is based off of a blurb I did, where it was just from a physical affection prompt list that I went off on! I hope you guys enjoy 💗

Wc: 4k

Tom didn’t know why he was so nervous as he opened the large glass doors to the conference building. His palms were sweaty as he walked alone rather than with his brother and assistant Harry.

He loved working on new projects, new films, meeting new people but the scare of not knowing the new people made him nervous. At this point he normally would be able to get some sort of name, do some research on said person but this time they gave him nothing but a script.

The script was more of a love story. a serious role but one where he could be more seductive and serious, he could let go of the goofy teenager character he seemed to be stuck with.

His character, Jack, who would be the corrupt business man who falls for the one trying to bring down his company, the main female protagonist, Beth.

The meeting started at 10:00. Always being early he seemed to see someone else was too. You stand in front of the coffee machine, trying to get it to work as you waited for the meeting to start—or at least people to come in.

“Oi let me help you with that—“ he offers but a small Yelp comes from your mouth as you quickly turn around and hit your head against the British accented stranger.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! You scared me half to death—“ you hold your head as you look up, a wave of heat washes over your body and you don’t know if it was just because you hit your head hard enough or if it was because you finally figured out who you were working with.

“I should’ve said something else first, I’m so sorry—“ fuck. He thinks as he looks at you. You who managed to make a way onto the list of celebrities he wants to work with. You who also made it on the list of celebrities he wants to date.

The fans knew quickly he had a tiny crush on you. As he once liked a fan edit of the two of you on the read carpet. He seemed to be one of the firsts to like your Instagram photos and even mentioning your name in an interview saying how pretty you were.

You were the same, with smaller fame of course. You along with half of the other population who enjoyed marvel movies and dorky characters, you fell in love with the curly haired British boy. Finding him extremely talented and a heartthrob of course, you quickly dreamt about working with him but laughed about it never coming true.

Now he was in front of you. His chin red from where your head collided with it and he only stares at you in response.

The awkward silence quickly filled as the two of you tried and laugh off the interaction.

“Tom—“

“(Y/n)—“ you both say your names at the same time. Him going in for a handshake and you going in for an awkward hug. The two of you stop and laugh it off before deciding a simple handshake was the way to go. You had never wanted to quit your entire career more than now.

“Oh! Perfect!” Finally as the tension was cut the director walked into the room. Two people followed behind and you took a deep breath already nervous for the new film and exactly what Toms role was. As far as you read, the main female character, who you were to be playing, had to be in lingerie a few times in front of the main male character. There were also sex scenes, plenty of kiss scenes and sexual tension. You were fit for the character but you were not fit for Tom. All your fantasies about him were just fantasies.

“I see the two of you have already met. But If not, (y/n) meet Tom, Tom meet (y/n) you two will be working together for the next few months as I’m sure you are aware of your roles. (Y/n) will be playing the lover and spy where Tom you will be playing the businessman. I’m sure we already know our positions…” the director starts and you swallow hard.

Tom doesn’t know if you’re looking or not to see the pink shade coming to his cheeks and making him hot. You were just an actress, he thought, an actress who just had to play the role. He was an actor as well, he reminds himself. A very good one for the fact so he didn't want to mess this up all because of one silly crush.

“We want to put you two in a house together.” The director claps his hands together making you nearly spit out the coffee you had in front of you. Tom's head snaps to look at you as you cough a bit trying to digest the words.

“You want us to live together?” Tom speaks for you it seems.

“We only want to see your chemistry! The fans, the academy, loves chemistry! Trust me, people will love the movie but they will not care if they see just two other actors acting to be in love. Not really caring you know? We want to see you guys build a bond, passion, some sort of love even if you lie to us about it to make it believable. Run through your lines, skinny dip with each other for all we care we just want to see passion!” You feel like his words are turning into a dream as he speaks. You feel your heart pounding at his words and try your hardest to keep your calm.

“And where will we be going?” You finally find the strength to speak. If it was anyone else you would not care, reminding yourself you are a good actress and have acted like you wanted to fuck a man you hate. But this was a man you actually wanted to fuck, a man you actually wanted real passion with.

“We rented you two a flat in spain,” he mentions, right, where you’ll be shooting, you think. “It’s only three days and if you want more we will give you more if you don’t we will let you free. Every expense is paid for, go to dinner, have wine, everything will be on the film. This is both of your chances at big awards this year. This is for you and for us.” You could almost feel Toms body heat as he was just as nervous as you, you didn’t know why though. He was the heartthrob, he was the actor that was wanted left and right, this was your big chance at a movie that can skyrocket your career.

The next hour feels torturous as all you could think about was what this house looked like for the two of you. Did it have two rooms? Two bathrooms? Why did your head hit his chin? Is there a bump? What if he hates you? What if he’s secretly seeing someone and just doesn’t want to announce it? All thoughts ran through your head as you had to make this your best acting gig yet. Except the most acting might be pretending not to love Tom the way you do.

-

Three days. That’s all it was. You would spend three days in whatever this house looked like and all you would have to do is pretend to get to know Tom. All while trying not to expose how much you truly like him.

There were rumors he had a crush on you, of course you saw the interview and noticed how he liked your pictures but you also knew his co-stars from Spider-Man so your thoughts were friendly.

Taking an Uber to the destination, you pull up to this beautiful Italian cottage. Gorgeous stone walls and large driveway, If there was one emotion to be real about this entire thing, it would be that you were spoiled with this house.

You were already nervous as people started to catch on through social media, his fans seeming to know his constant move now quickly knowing yours.

‘Stars (y/n) (y/l/n) and Tom Holland possibly take on a new film with one another: here’s what we know’

‘Why is Tom in Italy?’ ‘Is (y/n) in Italy?’ ‘Rumor is they are filming together soon’

Your heart rushed with comments you had read. Maybe this wasn’t for you, maybe you should stay with doing small movies where you were a side character or something simple. Keep the small amount of followers you had compared to Toms 40 million.

As you go up to knock on the door wondering if he’s already beat you to the place, the door opens and reveals the sight of Tom.

Another Yelp escapes your lips as you jump at Tom opening the door so quickly.

“If we’re living together I think you should hold off on scaring me.” You take a deep breath. His hair was wet, he was fresh out of a shower.

“Sorry darling! They told me your flight landed at 2:00 and well...it’s 2:00 so you aren’t supposed to be here until like 3:00.” He claims and you take a deep breath. Three days, you remind yourself, don’t mess it up.

“Oh…” you swallow.

“Not that I didn’t want to see you! It’s nice to see you again, you look really nice!” He says as you wear the sweats and the sweatshirt from the airport. “Let me help you with those.” He grabs your bags for you and you smile letting him take it. He leans in just close enough for you to smell the aftershave he put on, his muscles flex as he grabs your bags making this all the harder for you.

The night was young, fans already knew, this was your shot at making it big, Tom's shot of winning an Oscar, you two needed to work together. Pushing aside the worried one sided emotion and be able to make a movie that blows people away

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen. It was now late, you were starving, you and Tom already getting to know each other but it was strange.

“No, I mean the most I’ve done for a chemistry read is take the person out to dinner.” He laughs a little and then runs a hand through his hair. “Speaking of dinner...should we grab something or make something. Unless you had plans of your own then that’s totally fine—“ he starts to ramble and you laugh.

“I cannot cook, so unless you can I prefer to pick something up.” You cut him off to make sure he doesn’t go on and on.

“Have you ever pizza from Italy before?” He asks and you lean against the counter.

“I’ve never been in Italy before.” You shrugged and he grew a smirk. He turns on his heels as if he already has an idea.

“Then I know a place.” He walks out of the room to grab his phone.

You feel your heart pounding as you check your phone. You made a mistake by opening your Twitter, 10k new followers, 50k mentions and plenty more all regarding Tom. You only hoped he wasn’t the type to use Twitter as it was flooded with people wanting you guys to be together.

Your mind swarms with the thought of your character again. Soon you’d have to stand in front of your celebrity crush, half naked, trying to seduce him. It was going to be more awkward if you guys were friends.

“Are you coming?” He calls out and you quickly shove your phone in your back pocket before grabbing your purse to go.

Three days and you feel like you’re already going to snap.

-

It was a lovely little place he brought you to. You didn’t know If he’d come to Italy often but he clearly knew a decent way around the city. The two of you sat in the corner of a dimly lit Italian restaurant, sharing pizza and feeling more comfortable with each other as the night went on. He was just another person, you thought, nothing to worry about.

“We didn’t order any wine.” You stop the server as he pours both you and Tom a glass. Tom already drunk off of the beer he had and you only enjoying his presence.

“Ah it’s on the house, such a lovely couple in such a lovely city! You two should have fun!” The server winks. You almost protest to stop him telling him that you and Tom were nearly just coworkers stuck in a house for three days.

But rather Tom thanks the server and takes the glass. Your heart pounding as you pick up the glass as well, the boys eyes already red from how much he’s had already and you can tell you have to take him home.

“You know I was nervous to be working with you.” He took a sip before setting it down. “When I saw you I was like ‘shit this is happening’ and freaked out.” He admitted and you try to hold back the butterflies in your stomach.

“You freaked out for working with me?” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Well look at you, you’re gorgeous! Anyone would be lucky to work with you, as your lover as well.” He falls back into the booth and stares at the décor on the ceiling.

“So you read all the scenes?” You ask and he nodded.

“Of course i did! I only improve when I feel like it.” He shrugs, taking another sip.

“You said you’re method too.” You remember from one interview you watched years ago. Your voice was more of a whisper, more to yourself but he grows a soft smirk as he turns his head to face you.

“So you watched my interviews.” He says feeling cocky. You roll your eyes taking another sip of wine yourself to hopefully drown out the embarrassment you just gave yourself.

“As if I don’t see you being the first to like my posts, Holland.” You avoid eye contact and rather look around the room but Tom only focuses on you.

When you catch his eyes they’re sober, this whole time he was telling stories in a drunken state and now he looks at you with glossy soft eyes as if he wants to hear more.

“So you see me liking your posts?” He teases and you finally look at him.

“I see everyone liking my posts. Why do you follow me?” You challenge and he holds back a smirk.

“You’re friends with Z, why do you follow me?” He asks back and you feel yourself straighten.

“Z is friends with a lot of people, I don’t see you following all of them?” You argue and he falls back into the booth again with a soft chuckle.

“So not only do you follow me but you stalk me?” He teases and you groan.

“Not what I meant.” You see how much wine you have left, not a lot as your nerves filled you and the wine didn’t calm you. “You liked a fan edit of us a year ago. We’ve never met until a few days ago.” You rest your head on your hand that props itself up against the table. That’s what makes him lose his game, he turns a light shade of red before quickly straightening himself up.

“You’re talented, why don’t we see more of you?” He asks about your roles.

“You’re about to see everything in a few days.” You mumble and he chokes on his wine.

Page 281

*Beth removes her robe in front of Jack, slowly stalking towards him wearing the tight black lingerie* *she crawls on top of his sleepy figure and points a gun*

It was embarrassing that such a scene turned him on after finding out who it was with. After finding out it was you, he read over every single sex scene, strip scene, makeout scene to make sure everything was real.

“Oh relax.” You hold back a smile. “You’re the Method actor, remember?” You tease. He leans forward, he’s not sure how he’s gotten so confident but he takes your glass and drinks from it before setting it down.

“Yeah, I am. We should rehearse some things, get more comfortable.” He suggests and you look at him up and down. His lips slightly stained reddish pink from the wine, his skin damp from how hot the room was, and he looked at you as if no one else was in the room.

“And where should we start?” You swallow, you can’t get shy now. You’ve dreamt about this moment and now it’s happening.

“Well, if we’re starting with their meeting, I think it would go something like this.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on your neck. You’re frozen as his lips are soft and warm, he pulls back and realizes what he’s done. His thoughts of you, his crush on you, the warm alcohol that ran through his blood all while being in Italy got the best of him.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done—“ he started and you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to kiss lips. His eyes go wide softly as if he was a school boy getting his first kiss.

“More wine?” The waiter comes back and Tom snaps out of it for a split second.

“We’ll take the check.”

-

Your hands tangled in with his messy hair, his shirt already off as he was warm from the summer heat Italy provided. His lips trail down from your lips to your neck as he plays with the strings of the summer dress you wore.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” His words mumbled into your chest as he lets the shoulders of your dress fall.

“Why? You want to admit you have a crush on me now?” you teased and when he looks up his eyes are darker. The sweet chocolate puppy dog eyes before now darkened as his lips were swollen and his face was hot. His hands rest at your hips with a tight grip as he wants more.

“You admitted to stalking my interviews and who i follow so i should be asking you that question.” he teased and you rolled your eyes. Your Only respond by pushing his head back into your chest where he planted soft kisses trailing down.

“So soft,” he takes off the bra you wore. Hes thought about this moment but would never admit it. Hes thought about how soft your skin is and how you looked under his touch with his head in between your legs—

“Do something tom.” you groan as he is on his knees for you. Your dress bunched at your waist, all exposed for him as he takes off the black lace underwear you wore under the dress.

“All for me?” he asks and your head hits the back of the wall, your hands go to his hair and he kisses gently at your thigh. “Say something, darling.” darling, you think about the way he says that word. The simple nickname that made you melt. Darling, that was going to be the death of you.

“Y-yes!” you find the words. “I-I don’t think this is apart of the script though.” You still try and be playful and just below your eyes you can see he has a playful and cocky smirk.

“This,” his thumb rubs at your clit as he looks up. His lips cherry red and his smirk is full view to you as he sees your eyes flutter shut as your head was thrown back. “This is where I improve.” he replaces his thumb with his tongue as he pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Your hands grip his hair as you moan his name, his name that you thought of so many times before this in your dreams.

Your knees go weak as his one hand pins your hips against the wall and his other fingers thrusted in and out of you while his tongue works at your clit.

“Tommy!” The nickname slipped, you didn’t mean it but you imagined it sometimes long before you met him and just had a crush.

“Huh darling? Like that? Want to cum?” His words horse and his accent thicker. “That’s right...” he almost laughs as he can see how much you’re whimpering. “Cum for me.”

You fall under his touch with soft moans leaving your lips. The wave of euphoria washes over you and you struggle to open back up your eyes and come back to reality.

He comes back up to face you, this time you have a thin layer of sweat over your forehead and your chest rises as you catch your breath. You take Tom's fingers and take them into your mouth. Acting as if it were him in your mouth you work your tongue around his finger before taking them out with a pop.

His eyes stare and he almost winces at how hard he is. How hard you've made him.

“This is going to be the best damn movie i've ever filmed.” he nearly whispers as you bite down on your lip before pulling him back into your lips.

This was going to be the best six months of your life.

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#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x you #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fan fic #tom holland fan fiction #Tom holland au #Tom Holland angst

[itsallyscorner]

Hello, i saw that your request are close atm.😌 but can I request in advance? 😂 (mix!reader) where tom is reacting to fan made videos of the reader and he keeps on fanboying or something and ended up having her as his lockscreen🙃 if it make sense haha. (It just went to my head and share it with you🤓🥰) LOVE YOUR STORIES and i KEEP on re-reading them over and over💕 love lots and I’ll keep supporting you and your stories✨ have a great day

I’m pretty sure this is the request that one anon was referring to! Thank you for the love and support on my blog💕 Once again, sorry for the long wait! I hope you like it💖

💌.

Fanboy

I wanted to make this a headcanon because there’s just too many scenarios of Tom being a fanboy in my head that I can go on for days😭

If we haven’t established it enough on this blog: Tom is a hardcore and very proud Mixer.

Especially with you in the band, Tom’s support for the girl group was above and beyond.

We love a supportive boyfriend🥺

Obviously, you are his favorite member in the band.

He’s told you straight up that you were his favorite. It was also no secret because everyone knew of his crush on you even before the two of you dated.

He even exposed himself during interviews when asked who his celebrity crush was.

“My celebrity crush? (Y/n) (L/n) without a doubt.”

“You didn’t even hesitate to answer that.”

“Why would I? She’s always been my celebrity crush, she’s gorgeous and hilarious.”

His friends and family enjoyed taking the piss out of him. They constantly teased him about how whipped he was for you.

They pointed out how he would follow you around like a lost puppy and look at you as if you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

As much as he hated the teasing, he knew they were all right.

He was absolutely in love with you. You were it for him. (Yes I’m quoting Cherry, leave me alone pls)

“Tom, you’re such a simp for (y/n).” Harrison teased him one day.

“Yes and what about it?” He would immediately answer back. Sassily, might I add.

Although Tom wasn’t that big with PDA, he never hid the way he felt for you.

He posted pictures of you on Instagram and freely talked about you during interviews or to anyone in general.

He would also promote the band’s new album or publicly congratulate you guys after winning an award. He’d be so cute, he’ll praise you guys and write about how proud he is of you and the girls🥺

Everyone knew about your relationship, but you guys weren’t the kind of couple to constantly post about your relationship on social media.

It wasn’t a secret but it was lowkey to the point where your relationship had privacy from the nosy world.

But basically, yes, everyone was aware of how much of a simp and major fanboy Tom was.

Many fans caught him liking fan edits of you on Instagram and Twitter.

There were also edits of you he found on Tiktok, but those likes were never found lmao.

Though you weren’t as aware as the fans of him looking at fan edits of you.

Tom enjoyed watching edits of you. Especially when he was away for filming or when you were on tour.

He literally has a folder on his Instagram to save all of his favorite fan edits of you to.

His favorite edits are the ones that show how cute and wholesome you are, the thirst edits, and his most favorite, the crack head edits.

Tom literally goes to YouTube and searches for these videos.

(Y/n) (L/n) being the baby of Little Mix for 10 minutes.

Funny (Y/n) (L/n) moments that butter my quakson.

(Y/n) (L/n) being clumsy on stage for 15 minutes straight.

(Y/n) (L/n) being unintentionally beautiful.

(Y/n) (L/n) moments that make me question my sexuality

You get the gist.

Sometimes you’ll catch him staring at his phone, smiling or biting his lip, while a song played over and over again.

That was just him watching an edit of you repeatedly but you didn’t know that.

Omg why do I see him saving one of those edits from TikTok as a live wallpaper and making it his lockscreen?

Which would probably be how you found out about his little fanboy secret on his phone.

“Darling, can you pass me my phone please?” He asked you from the kitchen. You took his phone from the coffee table in the living room and went to where he was.

Maybe your thumb was pressing down on the screen making the live wallpaper move. You know how it makes your phone like vibrate or something? Yeah, you felt that.

So you looked down and suddenly his wallpaper turned into clips of you. You stopped midway just to watch it.

There were clips of you from music videos, interviews, performances, and even red carpet events.

It was like one of those “play date” edits that were trending around TikTok.

Tom comes out to check on you only to find you smiling at his phone. His eyes widen when he sees what you’re looking at.

“I—uh, I can explain!”

He thought you would find it weird and creepy of him to have a live wallpaper of you as his lock screen.

But you didn’t find it weird, you thought it was cute and adorable of him. It made you realize how wholesome of a boyfriend he was.

He’s instantly relieved when you tell him that.

You’d ask him where he got it and he would open up TikTok, then open his favorites.

Which exposed him because it’s literally a bunch of edits of you.

“Why do you have so many edits of me?”

He shrugs, “I just like watching them. They also help me when we’re apart. The fans make so many good edits of you, you need to watch them.”

Tom then goes on to show you all the edits he’s saved from TikTok.

You guys cuddle on the couch while going through them.

After you’ve gone through most of the ones from TikTok he would open up Instagram.

“Wait, there’s more?”

“Yes, there’s more. I can make about 5 Marvel length films out of all of them.”

He’d be so adorable and click on specific ones to show you because they were his favorite.

“Ooo, baby let’s watch this one. It’s very cute and my favorite song is in it.”

“Can we please watch the thirst edits?”

“Look, this one’s an edit of us. Aren’t we the cutest couple ever?”

Later on you would admit that you also watch fan edits of him.

“Do you really?”

“Yeah, they always pop up on my feed and I end up going down a rabbit hole of fan edits of you.”

Then you guys would go through your phone and watch fan edits of him.

He’d find a lot of them ‘sick’ and asks you to send them to him.

Now that you both knew about your love for fan edits of each other, you guys would send edits to each other all the time🥺

Sometimes you’ll even share them to your stories.

Tom did this the most with edits of you. When he shared the edits to his story he would add comments like:

“😍😍😍😍”

“My beautiful girl”

“Thank you for making an edit of @yourinstagram just laughing. I’ve been missing her so much and this really made my day x”

*thirst edit of you* “I’m the luckiest man in the world😍”

Tom is just the most supportive boyfriend and your biggest fan.

He could watch fan edits of you all day if he could :)

Tags:

*tags with a cross through them do not work*

Little Mix!reader x Tom Holland Taglist

↪︎ @waxingmoonwrites @slutforsebstan @starslazyandcosy @xkonpinkx @dummiesshort @gypsystuf @kielemarie @wroetospidey @thatgirlangelb @have-aheart @adayasgeorgia @xeniarocks @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @agustdowney @itssmadelyn @tomsirishgirlx @imthebadguyyy @roseke @kaylans-imagines

Tom Holland Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @xxstrangegirlxxx @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland headcanon #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland drabble #tom holland fanfiction #little mix #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #ally’s request

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

through the warning signs || h. styles

warnings: a couple of swears, mentions of covid

word count: 3.1k

summary: you first met harry on the set of dunkirk, but now you’re reunited on the set of his new film...

Films had always fascinated you. The endless possibilities of art you could create, from the cinematography to the mise en scène, even to the sound, had always blown your mind. So, even from an early age, you always knew you wanted to get into filmmaking somehow. You were perhaps the worst actor to ever grace the planet, so acting was never an option for you. But alas, you studied film studies in school and went to university for the very same thing. At first, you’d considered becoming a cinematographer, but you realised you could entwine your love of film production and fashion. So, you found yourself as a costume designer.

In 2014, your dearest friend, Louisa, had dragged you to see Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar. She had an unhealthy obsession with Timothée Chalamet at the time, and had made you watch every single film he’d been in - big role or small. So, while Louisa was busy being in love with Timothée Chalamet, you were busy nursing an adoration for Christopher Nolan films. And then, in 2016, you found yourself in Dunkerque, France, working alongside Mr Nolan himself.

As well as being incredibly interested in films, you were also somewhat of a history buff in school. So, working on a film like Dunkirk alongside names like Kenneth Branagh and Cillian Murphy, was one of the most surreal first days on the job. Or, more notably, Harry Styles. Though Louisa was then going through her Tom Hardy phase, she was once a massive One Direction fan. And, though you never bothered to learn every last fact that was public knowledge about them, you could certainly appreciate their music.

As the weeks went on, you began to slip into place more. The more time that passed, the more you knew this was the career for you. And, you knew it wasn’t very professional, but you developed somewhat of a liking towards the singer. He was nice to you. But, then again, he was nice to everybody. It was just in his nature. You weren’t even sure he knew your name...

And then filming wrapped and you never saw him again. The pair of you had never exchanged numbers or followed each other on social media. And that was the end of that. And, after a month or so, your little crush on Harry died away. And, even when you went to the premiere, you only got a couple of glances at him.

In the three years since you last saw him, you’d never forgotten about him. It wasn’t exactly an easy feat forgetting about Harry Styles. But he had definitely been pushed to the back of your mind. Plenty of things had managed to take the front seat since then. You’d won an Oscar for Best Costume Design for your work on Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women at the beginning of 2020, which was completely insane (Louisa was still more amazed by the fact that you got to work with Timothée Chalamet). The award sat on your mantelpiece in your London flat beside a picture of Louisa and yourself.

However, more recently, you’d taken a place on the crew of Olivia Wilde’s new film: Don’t Worry, Darling. You’d worked on Booksmart with her and she simply adored you. Before production had even begun, you could already tell you were going to love working on this film. It was a psychological thriller set in the 50s - you were in love already. Not only that, but it was starring one of your good friends you’d made in the industry: Florence Pugh.

This all seemed great, until you were notified that Harry Styles would be taking the place of Shia LaBeouf to play ‘Jack’. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself be caught up by his unintentional charm once again. So, on the first day of filming, you turned up in your puffer jacket (despite it being filmed in California).

You had already worked with Olivia before filming on the costumes, or at least a large bulk of them. It was an odd sort of dynamic; she wanted you to take control simply due to your brilliant eye for fashion, especially vintage fashion, and you wanted her to take control as it was her film. In the end, you managed to create a cooperative working environment.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t stalling as you were fixing up Florence’s costume. Harry’s needed doing next and you didn’t exactly want to face him. You’d tried desperately to stay out of Harry’s sight. And, so far, you’d been successful. When it came to measuring, you’d kindly asked one of your assistants to measure him (and she was more than happy to do so). But all your clever sneaking around was about to go down the drain. “You all right, Y/N?” Flo asked, noticing your shaky hands and your incessant fiddling.

You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I think you’re good to go.”

She smiled, “Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too!” you grinned as you watched her jog away. She disappeared behind a couple of trailers. As you approached Harry, who was busy talking to a couple of other crew members, you tried to convince yourself that, if you kept your head down, there was no way Harry would attempt to make small talk as you fixed his costume. You’d have your mask on, so there was absolutely no way he’d recognise you. Besides, it had been four years since you filmed Dunkirk, he wouldn’t even remember you. As you neared Harry and one of the gaffers, you cleared your throat, “Do you mind if I steal Harry for a second?”

“Sure,” the gaffer nodded, turning to work on some of the lighting. Keeping your head down and your hands quick, you got to work on adjusting his tuxedo. Awkward was definitely an understatement. Or, it was for you, at least. In an odd sort of way, you were begging for him to make some sort of conversation to ease the sheer awkwardness, but you prayed he stayed silent at the same time. Alas, your prayers weren’t enough. “It’s Y/N, right?” his voice came, though slightly muffled by his mask, you made it out clearly.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, adjusting his cuffs and trying your very hardest not to make eye contact with him.

“Congratulations on your Oscar,” was what he said next. “It was for Little Women, right?”

That got you to look up at him. Had he actually remembered your name all of four years or had he just recognised you when you made your acceptance speech at the Oscars? Maybe Florence had just mentioned your Oscar win earlier in the year, and that was how he knew. “Yeah, it was,” you replied. “Congratulations on your album.”

“Cheers,” he said. It was a good album - both of his were. Louisa had forced you to listen to his entire discography whenever you drove her around. Not that you were exactly complaining, you enjoyed Harry’s music. And, just as the awkwardness was beginning to pour back into the atmosphere, he added, “It’s no Oscar, though.”

“It was a bloody good album, though. It was nominated for a Brit too, wasn’t it?” you asked, vaguely remembering Louisa scream in your ear that Fine Line had been nominated for Best Album, or something along those lines.

He nodded, “Well, yeah.”

And, just like that, the conversation fizzled out into uneasy silence. You wanted to kick yourself for being such a shit conversationalist; there’s people who would kill to have a chat with Harry Styles. Yet, here you were, complimenting an album you weren’t even sure you could name all the songs on. Thankfully, the sound of Olivia’s voice caught your attention, “Y/N!”

The two of you turned to see her approaching quickly. She was waving two samples of fabric in front of you, “Oh, hi, Harry. Good thing you’re here, actually. Which of these were you thinking of for his other suit?”

You took both from her, inspecting them closely. One was a brown and the other was a blue, slightly lighter than a navy. “Well, I thought both would work. I mean, it’s up to you, but I think the brown contrasts with Florence’s costume better,” you replied. “But then I’ve got this lovely tie set aside for the blue. So, really it’s your decision.”

She hummed, agreeing with what you said, “I see what you mean. We could always use the blue for a different scene?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yeah, I mean, the brown will definitely work better with Florence’s costume for those couple of scenes we’re shooting in Palm Springs. But, like I said, the blue is very fifties.”

She smiled, “Brilliant. I’ll sort out the brown, then.”

Quickly, you said, “No, it’s okay. I’ll sort it out when I’m finished with Harry.”

She thanked you as she left. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you as you worked away, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sorted the hem of his trousers. And, thank God for the mandatory masks, as he couldn’t help the smile that danced across his lips. Then, in no time at all, Harry was snapped out of his small trance at the sound of your voice, “Right, you’re good to go.”

“Cheers, Y/N,” he smiled slightly, watching as you walked off towards one of your assistants. Sighing softly to himself, he left to find Florence.

The two weeks the entire cast and crew had off due to somebody testing positive for covid was a lovely break for you. As well as constant fear that they’d just call Don’t Worry, Darling off completely and you’d be out of work again. And the relentless guilt you felt for having to stay at Florence’s for the two weeks with her boyfriend because you didn’t have your own house in America, and you couldn’t fly back and forth between England and America. And the nights where you cried into Florence’s arms as you missed your family from back home. And the nights where you couldn’t sleep because you began to overthink things like if you’d locked your front door or turned the oven off. But, other than that, it’d been a smooth run.

But now you were back and in Palm Springs. And the sun was out and you were longing for a cold shower. You found yourself stood in front of Harry once more, trying to decide which tie would work best with his brown suit. He’d followed you on Instagram since your first interaction since Dunkirk, which received an onslaught of ecstatic texts from Louisa. But that was as far as it had ever gone. None of your conversations progressed past his costumes or anything work-related. And, when you first turned up on set on the very first day of production, that was what you’d wanted. But now you had to surround yourself with him everyday, you longed for him to ask about something other than the job. You wanted to discuss favourite novels and guilty pleasures and pet peeves and bad habits and embarrassing childhood stories with him. All these little things you wanted him to know about you.

Your mind was wandering and it took you a moment to realise that you weren’t even thinking about which tie worked best anymore. Your head was full of swirling fantasies that you knew would never come to be.

Harry, however, didn’t notice your zoned out expression either. He was too busy trying to figure out whether you were single due to the shirt you were wearing, which hung much too large on your frame. And the feeling of knowing there was a possibility that you were living a happy life with somebody else was beginning to rip him up inside. He was trying to remember if you’d thanked a boyfriend in your acceptance speech at the Oscars, but that all seemed so long ago now - he couldn’t possibly remember. So, in spite of himself, he asked, “Missing your boyfriend, then?”

You looked up at him, your hands dropping down to your sides. “What?”

“Your boyfriend - are you missing him?” Harry repeated, a small smile on his face to make his tone sound slightly less bitter.

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, finally settling on a tie.

“You don’t? I just figured, you know, with the shirt...” he trailed off, prompting you to elaborate.

You chuckled awkwardly, “Right, of course. I only do it to make myself appear less single.”

He laughed, but it was mainly out of relief. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about you from the set of his first movie, you just hadn’t been on his mind for the four years following. But then he’d turned up on the first day of filming, seen you laughing with Florence and Olivia, and everything just came rushing back to him. All of the pent up feelings and the nights pondering all of the what ifs and the maybes. “Well, you fooled me,” he smiled.

“Just my ingenious plans working, as usual,” you joked, earning a small laugh from Harry.

As you finished wrapping the tie around Harry’s shirt collar, you informed him you were finished. He thanked you and left to get his hair and makeup done. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Florence’s voice behind you, “I’m pretty sure if he asks you about your love life, it means he likes you.”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, hitting Flo’s shoulder with the tie you opted not to use.

She laughed loudly, “You know I’m right!”

“He’s just making small talk.”

“No, Y/N, small talk is how nice the weather is, not ‘oh, are you single?’”

“Okay, firstly, he didn’t say that. Secondly, it’s California - it’s always nice weather,” you retorted. As much as you fought back, you quite liked the idea that Florence thought Harry liked you.

“You know what I mean!” she replied, grinning her infamous broad, cheeky smile. “Don’t even try and act like you wouldn’t mind if he liked you!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said sheepishly, a small smile gracing your features. As aforementioned - you were perhaps the worst actor to grace the planet.

“I knew it!” she grinned excitedly.

“Don’t you have hair to be done?” you chuckled, pushing her towards where she needed to go to get her hair styled for the shoot.

“This isn’t over, Y/N!” she called back as she slowly disappeared.

The following day, as you were patching up one of Chris Pine’s suits, Florence came and sat down opposite you. She had one of those devious smirks on her face and you knew that couldn’t mean anything good. You placed your needle down, staring expectantly at her. “How can I be of assistance?” you asked skeptically.

“Well, as your dear friend, I thought it was my duty to report back to you. So, I’d like to tell you that our good pal Harry was asking about you,” she grinned.

You sighed, “Was he? And what was he asking?”

“Something about if you have any allergies,” she replied.

“Wow,” you laughed, “must be hopelessly in love with me then.”

“No, listen. He asked about your allergies and then he asked what kind of food you liked. So, my guess is he’s going to ask you to dinner.”

“We’ll see,” you said, offering her a smile in the hopes that she’d just drop it.

“Indeed we will. I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N,” she grinned, pinching your cheeks as she got up. “Love you!”

You chuckled, “Love you too!”

And, just like that, you were left to your own devices. Though your flow had been disrupted, you got back to stitching up Chris’ suit, which had a minor tear in the lapel. Working on a film set, you were used to being interrupted; people would come and go, asking you all sorts of questions. You always found it pretty easy to get back into your rhythm. However, when Harry came and took the place of Florence, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to get back into your desired flow easily. “Oh, hey, Harry,” you greeted. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly. He wasn’t hiding his nervous shifting very well - despite how good of an actor he may be. He fiddled with his fingers, which lay in his lap. They were lacking the many, expensive-looking rings they usually adorned. He was out of costume, instead dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His hair wasn’t slicked back and full of gel like it usually was on set. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” he said, rather unconvincingly.

His eyes followed your fingers as they gripped the little needle, weaving it in and out of one of suit’s lapels. Another wave of awkwardness washed over the pair. But, for once, you didn’t feel uncomfortable. You weren’t the one who came over to start the conversation. “Are you busy tonight?” he suddenly asked, his voice almost shaky.

“Uh, no. Not if I can get this lapel finished,” you replied, your tone joking. Your eyes were still trained on your needle, but your mind was most definitely concentrating on every last syllable that fell from Harry’s lips.

He let out an awkward, breathy chuckle, “Right. Um, well, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab something to eat?”

You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at the corner of your lips, “I’d love to.”

This was what you felt you’d been waiting for for a good four years. And, thank God, Florence had warned you that she suspected Harry was thinking of asking you out, otherwise you weren’t sure you’d be able to get out any comprehensible words. “Great,” he grinned, whatever nervousness that had been racing through his veins seemed to slowly drown away. “I’ll see you tonight, then. At 6?”

You nodded, overwhelmed with serotonin, trying to suppress the urge to let out a loud squeal. You knew you’d get back to Florence’s, share a glass of predate wine with her and dance about happily in her kitchen. All of these marvellous emotions swept through your body, which was abuzz with electric euphoria. And yet, all you replied was, with a small smile, “At 6.”

part two.

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry oneshot #harry styles oneshot #harry imagines #harry styles imagines #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry x reader

[timothy-chamlet]

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends. 

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows. 

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you. 

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you. 

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling. 

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude. 

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress. 

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question. 

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."  

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie." 

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you. 

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling." 

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo. 

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you. 

"yeah, just.. tired." 

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours." 

"i thought the awards show was only 4-" 

"there's always the afterparty.." 

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee. 

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle. 

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets  people.  

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face. 

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star. 

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention. 

"bring it in hot stuff!" 

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since. 

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in. 

"oh god no-" 

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation. 

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations." 

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later. 

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile. 

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!" 

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me." 

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend. 

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?" 

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk. 

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically. 

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face. 

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance." 

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?" 

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?" 

"i dunno- go to my place?" 

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house. 

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you. 

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed. 

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers. 

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice. 

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.." 

"us?-" 

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg. 

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up. 

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?" 

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face. 

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours. 

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move. 

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt. 

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other. 

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper. 

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath. 

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more. 

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response. 

"please… please what, mon amour?" 

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice. 

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him. 

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core. 

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss. 

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!” 

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-” 

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.” 

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep. 

#timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet smut #timothee x reader smut #timothée x reader smut #timothée chalamet x reader smut #smut #fluff #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet fic #timothée chalamet fanfiction

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [1107]

"I feel like we shouldn’t be here.” Ellana pauses to adjust the microphone clipped to the collar of her shirt, carefully moving it a little bit over so it doesn’t get covered by the thin athletic jacket she’d thrown over it. She waves her hand at a stylist who attempts to run through the set to help her or possibly stop her.

Ellana swears that the on set stylists have predator senses for whenever someone so much as fiddles with a zipper.

“Are you not Ellana Lavellan, multiple award winning actress, media darling, favorite of the entertainment industry?” Bull hooks his thumbs into the loops of his jeans. "And am I not really hot stuff?”

“I am. And you are. But this is a game show and we’ve never done game shows before.” Ellana turns to squint up at him. "Or is this another hidden side of you I’ve somehow never stumbled across? Your IMDB does not list you on any game shows. I’ve checked. For real this time. I even looked at your wiki page. Did you know our wiki pages don’t even have hot links to each other? I’m appalled.”

“You could edit it.”

“I’m not going to edit our wiki pages. I have some measure of dignity. For now at least. Give it a few weeks and we’ll see if I cave.” Ellana tugs at one of his sleeves, straightening out an imaginary wrinkle. “So. Have you ever been on game shows?”

“Some of the game tournaments I’ve been in have been broadcasted. Does that count as a game show? Variety show stuff? No. Never been. I’m wondering if I’ve been invited on because I’m your husband and that’s shot me to new heights of fame or if people are just really starting to get into chess.”

“You’re a former Olympic athlete and current record holder for more things than I can count. If anything I should be wondering if I’m only invited here because of you.” Ellana sighs. “But seriously. Why are we doing this? I feel like this is completely out of both of our wheelhouses and this will go very, very badly. For us, I mean. We are not the type of people you want running around unscripted.”

“Oh, you for sure. I think I can behave perfectly well on camera.” Bull grins down at her. “Besides, it’s a couples show. And we’re one of the most famous couples out there.”

“That still boggles my mind.” Ellana frowns quickly shaking her head and lightning slapping her cheeks with her palms. “Ugh. Is it silly that no matter how many times I get in front of a camera I still get nervous? I don’t even do talk shows. I mean. I do but only if I have other cast members from whatever I’m promoting with me. I just let them do the talking. Safer for everyone that way.”

“I’d hug you but I think the stylist would come over here and kill me.” Bull takes her hand and laces their fingers together instead. “Relax. It’s not so bad. Wanna talk to one of the other teams? I think I saw Lyna and Dalen walking around earlier. Their hair and make up is done, too.”

“That’s another thing. How did they get Dalen on this show? He definitely isn’t someone you want going around unscripted.” Ellana shudders, “Gods. I don’t know what Lyna sees in him. But whatever it is must be excellent.”

“Don’t gossip on set.”

“I’m not. I am. See? This is why this is a bad idea.” Ellana swings their hands back and forth.

“Do you want me to talk you out of it or into it?” Bull pauses, head tilting in consideration as his eye slowly sweeps around the set. “We could make a run for it.”

“No, we committed. But theoretically, if I did say we should run. How’d we do it?”

Bull laughs, grinning down at her, “Have I mentioned how much it fucking delights me that you’re into listening to me talk tactics and strategies? I don’t think there’s anyone else in the entire world who could look and act as interested as you when I start talking chess. Even other chess masters get overwhelmed.”

“I’m not just acting interested, I am interested. You’re a very good speaker. Maybe you should pursue a career in acting next. We can switch. You do the acting and I’ll take a swing at modeling or commentating or whatever of the million things you somehow manage to do in a day.”

“You’d be an excellent model. And I would shell out so much money to get you to commentate on some of the games I’ve had to observe. You’d be an instant hit. We should get you a vlog.”

“My PR manager would kill me. Again. More unscripted things. I’m surprised she even gave this one a pass. My agency must’ve really done some fast talking to get this one to slide.”

“Pavus has to be good for something.”

Ellana swats his arm. “Hey! Be nice! That’s my best man you’re talking about.”

“That was me being nice. You know perfectly well what I’m like when I’m not. Come on, I think we’re starting now. Do you know who the third couple is going to be? I could’ve sworn they said it was going to be — “

“It’s Zevran,” Ellana says flatly, expression souring. “It was supposed to be Garrett and Isabella but Garrett’s mom’s health took a turn so he pulled out. I’m beginning to remember why I agreed to this. If it was Garrett he could talk me into anything. He talked me into going out with you after all.”

“Please. As if I was that hard of a sell.”

“I don’t ask people out on dates. Anyway, it was supposed to be Garrett. But then things came up and now it’s Zevran.”

“At least pretend like you can tolerate him. You’re an actress, aren’t you?”

Ellana scowls. “Zevran is perfectly fine at a distance. But he enjoys riling me up, I know it. I feel it. He’s admitted it. I know he has. He does it on purpose and I shouldn’t be held accountable.”

“Ellana, the worst he’s ever done to you is beat you out on rankings.”

“It’s like you and Dorian, Bull. Don’t try and reason with me on this.” She pauses. “This is a game show. We’re going to beat him. Bull, I didn’t really care before and I was mostly just hoping not to make a fool of myself but I’ve set a goal. I want to beat Zevran. We don’t have to win the entire series. We just have to beat Zevran.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

[devikafernando]

New year, new fic!

It’s been a long time since I wrote a Tom fic - well, not counting my collab fics with the fabulous @tinchentitri.

I wasn’t even in the mood to write one because things were pretty stressful the past few months and Tumblr still refuses to show my tags correctly. But it pays to have friends like the wonderful @ameliashepherdgoeshunting who wormed her way into my heart and wheedled an angsty & smutty one-shot out of me.

Remember Tom and Amy? The duo brought together by a cat? Well, here they are again!

* * *

The Cat Is Out Of The Bag

Amy wakes up to some shocking news regarding Tom. Will their relationship be over before it's even gone public?

Amy opened her eyes, wondering what had woken her this Sunday morning. A moment later, she knew. Her phone dinged repeatedly, alerting her to news. She had - somewhat foolishly but unashamedly - activated alerts on Tom ever since they were an item. After all, what’s a girl to do when fate - in the form of her cat - brings her a famous lover? She’d been a fangirl even before she’d met Tom so checking for updates was in her blood. Tom often shared snippets with her too, even exclusive sneak peeks, selfies and personal insights that the public had no clue of - just as they were clueless about Tom dating her for over a year now.

Tom had been away for nearly three months now, filming in Italy and France for a new mini series. The much-anticipated season 2 of “The Night Manager” was well on the way and it kept him so busy that they hadn’t seen each other for way too long. He always sent her messages and on most days he called her too, but she missed him like hell. What had started as more of an affair had morphed into a full-fledged relationship and she found herself pining - hah, nice pun there - for him. But she knew she couldn’t cling to him or demand more time. He was Tom freaking Hiddleston, award-winning actor and internet boyfriend, and truth be told, she was over the moon with his latest role.

Stifling a yawn, she frowned at her phone dinging itself into a frenzy. Had someone released behind-the-scenes footage? Had there been a cast party she didn’t know of? With rising anticipation, she pulled her cell closer and opened up her notifications. The first headline made her blink, then rub her eyes in incredulity: Caught in flagrante delicto - Tom Hiddleston in a sizzling lip lock with co-star Wren Boyd! She snorted. Yeah, right. As if. But the second headline was no better: How Tom Hiddleston manages the night: Get ready for a glamorous new couple! Sitting up straighter, Amy frowned at her phone. There were always rumors floating around. Tom basically only had to look at a woman and the media had them married with two children. She would never get used to that but knew it was inevitable. This, however, sounded pretty serious. Biting her lip, she clicked on one of the links…then gaped at the colorful pictures that loaded. One showed Tom and Wren - the willowy redhead who played his love interest in the show - having dinner at a restaurant. They looked cozy but just like friends. The other shots were way more incriminating. Here was Tom, leading the woman down the sidewalk with an arm looped tightly around her waist, her head on his shoulder. And here was Tom, kissing the stunning actress on the mouth, the woman’s hands clutching his jacket labels. Bile rising in her throat, Amy stared and stared at the last photo and its grainy but vivid zoomed-in version. This couldn’t be real. Any minute now, she would wake up from a nightmare, scoffing. She blinked, then pinched her own forearm hard and yelped in pain. At the foot of the bed, Sir Lancelot stirred and shot her a look of reproach that cats all over the world had perfected. With a huff, he resettled and curled into a ball. Amy didn’t even reach over to pet him, frozen on the spot. The paparazzi snapshot burned itself into her brain, frying her synapses. “It can’t be,” she kept muttering to herself. Tom would never do this to her. He was the most loyal and honest person she’d ever met. There was no way in hell he would cheat on her! They loved each other, for heaven’s sake!

THIS ONE-SHOT (with a happy/steamy ending) CONTINUES HERE ON AO3.

@nuggsmum @toozmanykids​ @avenger-nerd-mom @hallotom @sinfully-lustful-darling @royallylazy @lasimo74allmyworld @ilovetardis @witkoa61 @hakimo2015 @antyc67 @wolfsmom1 @brinschk @crushed-pink-petals @jhangelface0523 @deathbyukmen @say-my-name-assbut @bluegrasscontessa @omninocte @sf0206 @frenchfrostpudding @hiddlepiggle @theblackthrone @honeybournehippy @zee-archer-said-so @obsessedwithpretty79 @justthelosersblog @letsgetlokid @noclevernamelbr @theduchessinme @craftynidan @teresaoliva20 @bemynightmanager @inkededucatednnerdy @fairlightswiftly @okiejess1208 @ladyninasayers-ish @siochan-leat @evieplease @vertdragain @just-call-me-your-darling @winterisakiller @youareadistraction @nikkalia @thebluedreamofsky @traceyaudette @lady-meatball @mandapanda8 @lokilockedcougar @ms-cellanies @perfect-and-awesome @theheartofpenelope @hiddlescastle

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #fanfic #tom & amy #tom hiddleston #angst & smut

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 50 Epilogue Part II: 5 Years Later (Complete)

Amazing moodboard courtesy of @kindaresilient!

read chapter one

read on ao3

Happily Ever After: Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane People Magazine

The two of them walk into the little pâtisserie that had been chosen for the morning’s interview. They’re alone and the easy affection is obvious in the way they hold hands, in how Alec kisses the top of Magnus’s head as the two laugh at some joke between them.

Watching them, the reporter tries to maintain her objectivity but she can admit it’s difficult. She’d first interviewed Alec years ago when he was a rising star and had just swept through his first awards season, winning four Grammys and considerably more household notoriety.

At the time, she’d been struck by the man who reveled in his image and single status. To see him today as one half of an incandescently happy couple-- and to know why they’re on the cover of next month’s issue-- is a bit surreal.

Still, Alec and Magnus sweep into the restaurant and it’s just a few minutes before she’s starting the interview.

“So,” she starts briskly. “What’s new?”

Alec and Magnus look at each other for a minute before laughing and turning back to face her.

“Oh you know,” Magnus replies airily. “We’ve just adopted the cutest twins in the world and that’s kept our focus fairly well.”

Shaking his head with a soft smile, Alec joins in, “That’s definitely the most exciting thing that’s happened to me-- hell, all year.”

Taking the cue, the reporter leans in a little. Her eyes gleam but it’s considerably friendlier than Alec had initially thought. She’s getting her scoop but there’s genuine interest there, too, and not just a need for the exclusive they’ve granted People.

“The internet had a meltdown last week when you posted that photo on Instagram of the two of you, each holding a baby. Did you anticipate that level of fervor?”

Alec’s mouth kicks up into a lazy grin as he relaxes back against his husband. “People don’t like change and even when they do like it, they want to be the first to know. That’s why we’re doing this. The babies are getting old enough to where we’ll want to take them out of the apartment and I wanted to face the world before we made that first step.”

“Our children’s privacy and safety is of the utmost importance to us. While this isn’t an invitation further into our lives, we had the discussion and it was equally important to be able to acknowledge and celebrate that our family had grown from two to four recently,” Magnus interjects.

“How recently?”

“The twins are seven months old and we adopted them the day they were born. It was finalized earlier this summer.”

“A lot of people were shocked to see that you two were officially parents. Had this been the goal all along or was it a more recent desire for a bigger family?”

“My brother Jace and his wife Clary had their first kid a couple of years ago. I was away from home as often as I was in the city back then and neither one of us had any thought of settling down. But then Jace asked Magnus and I to be godparents and it became an elephant in the room for a little while. Neither of us wanted to come out and say that we wanted kids but every time we babysat or talked about kids in general, it was fairly obvious we were thinking along the same lines.”

“I never really let myself think of the possibility of being a father,” Magnus says softly, flicking his gaze from Alec to the reporter. “I always joked that my students were my children and that I didn’t have time for kids of my own. Alexander was home for a few months on a break, however, and as we started babysitting regularly I think there was a sort of mutual realization that our goals had shifted. Alec was like a new father, anyway, with the way he was constantly researching how to care for a baby. It was as adorable as it was exasperating.”

"Hey," Alec cuts in indignantly. "I wanted to be prepared! I wanted my niece to be as comfortable and safe and happy as possible."

Humoring him, Magnus agrees, "You did. But it was also a sign that maybe we were both ready and eager for that next step."

Alec nods along.

“Yeah, there were a few hard discussions about how to make it work and if we really were ready but at the end of the day, I love Magnus and I want it all with him.” With a laugh that edges on self deprecating, Alec adds, “I’m very happy that he feels the same.”

“Of course, darling,” Magnus murmurs before raising their joined hands up to his mouth for a kiss.

It’s quiet for a moment and the reporter watches as Magnus and Alec share a look that feels intrusive to witness, no matter that they’re in public.

Clearing her throat a little, she diverts the conversation. “The last time you two were on our cover was four years ago when we were given exclusive access to your wedding in Florence. In that time, things have changed quite a bit for you, isn’t that right Alec? Fans and media have missed you as you’ve moved to a position behind the scenes of the music industry.”

Alec takes in the question lurking in her tone and crosses one leg over the other. Absently fiddling with his wedding ring, he answers her unasked query with a raised brow.

“I’m just as active on my social media as I’ve ever been with the exception of keeping quiet about our kids. While my role has shifted to producing and writing, I’m still very much an entertainer and artist. It’s just that I keep more regular hours and get to spend more time with Magnus these days.”

Humming thoughtfully, the reporter’s eyes sharpen as she bluntly asks, “Do you miss it?”

“Touring?” Alec chuckles, shaking his head in a wondering yet confident gesture. “It’s not like I’ll never go on tour again. I’m just enjoying this time now. It’s been wonderful to challenge myself in a new area of the industry and establishing Iratze Records has been a very rewarding, if grueling, process. I still perform a few times a year and that’s enough for me. It’s more than enough that I get to have the best of both worlds.”

"And what about you, Magnus. You last book landed on the New York Times Bestsellers list in the nonfiction category where it's still sitting at number one. Last fall you were brought onto an Emmy winning show as a historical consultant and that's not to mention your duties as the Chair of the Columbia University's history department. Do you two find it difficult to juggle caring for kids with your demanding careers?"

"It's hard work," Magnus allows but looking at him, it's hard to picture the man breaking a sweat over anything. "We work hard, every day, to be the best we can be-- the best partners, the best parents, the best professionals. It's exhausting but I wouldn't trade my life now for anything."

Alec grins and it's a little dopey at the corners as he looks over at his husband with his heart in his eyes. "What he said."

“You sound like the picture of a happily settled man, Alec. It’s hard to believe that at one time you were known as a sort of Lothario. Is it true what they say then?” There’s a glint of humor in her eyes as she asks, “Do reformed rakes make the best husbands?”

Magnus is quiet though he flashes a quick grin as he looks down at his wedding ring. It’s a simple band but is obviously well cared for. They both seem to be waiting for Alec to answer and Alec does so, but not before taking his husband’s hand and interlacing their fingers.

“I love Magnus more than anyone in the world,” he says, “And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. The truth is, if he asked me to give it all up today, right now, I’d do it, no hesitation.”

Alec glances over at his husband just to see Magnus already staring at him, smiling with eyes so warm that he can’t ever imagine being cold again.

“But I wouldn’t,” Magnus says softly, thumb stroking over Alec’s where they’re hands rest on his thigh.

“But he wouldn’t,” Alec echoes with a quiet smile. He forgets for a minute that they’re not alone, that there’s a journalist right on the other side of the coffee table watching them with eyes that capture everything.

He comes back to himself after a minute though, looking over at her with an apologetic grimace that the reporter waves away, her expression far from annoyed and instead veering much closer towards enamored.

Clearing his throat, Alec says, “The past five years have been one hell of a journey and I couldn’t imagine anyone else by my side other than Magnus. I’m grateful every day that I stepped into that diner in the middle of the night and that Magnus took a chance on me. This next adventure, kids? I never thought that was in the cards for me.”

His voice is self-deprecating as he continues, “I never thought any of this was meant for me. I’m excited, though-- we’re excited to grow our family by two more and be the best parents we can be, every day.”

The journalist’s voice is warm, curious as she asks, “So is it fair to say that Alec Lightwood is still at the top of his game, even if he’s more concerned with his family and producing behind the scenes these days?”

Alec’s voice is confident as he answers, “Yeah. I’ve never felt better. I’ve finally found my place and that’s worth all the sold-out stadiums in the world.”

Magnus scoffs a little, though his expression is anything but doubting as Alec raises their joined hands up to his lips, kissing his husband just above his wedding ring.

As the reporter watches her subjects, the can’t help but think that this is one of the easiest, most enjoyable interviews she’s ever done. She’s writes the conclusion of the article as she watches the couple in front of her act like the newlyweds they haven’t been in years.

Alec Lightwood’s been a staple of these pages since he was a teenager. It’s been a long time coming, but the boy is now a man and instead of the confirmed bachelor we’d started thinking of Lightwood as a few years ago, domestic bliss is his best look yet.

There’s an easy contentment to Alec now, as he sits beside his husband and they banter back and forth, easily answering our questions between little inside jokes that we have no hope of deciphering.

We don’t mind, though. It’s hard to when the couple sitting across from you looks nothing but ecstatically happy.

We can’t wait to see what’s next for Alec and Magnus and their growing family. Best of luck to the Lightwood-Banes. We’re sure this is far from the last time we’ll see them between our pages!

Make sure to check out Alec’s new single What a Heavenly Way to Die, available now on a variety of streaming platforms and wherever music is sold.

#I can't believe this is finished! complete! done! #50 chapters and almost a quarter of a million words omg!! #httbt #my writing #malec fic

[lanternburning19]

My (Romantic) Interpretation of Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

First, we should introduce the characters of the story.

Miss Americana: Taylor. From the very beginning of her career, Taylor was dubbed America's Sweetheart and was branded to be a role model. She avoided talking about sex, showing off her body, and was not shown drinking or partying. She loved (and still loves) being a role model. She is kind, polite, charismatic and has an air of dignity about her. She also is not shy about her love for her country. Her 4th of July parties were highly publicized and has been a big advocate for exercising the right to vote ever since 2008. She is Miss Americana.

But then 2016 happened. And her reputation did a 180. She went from the friendly girl next door to the calculative mean girl. People were routing for her career to die. She went from America's Sweetheart to America's Most Hated.

The Heartbreak Prince: Joe. Rumors say that Joe used to be a huge playboy and never had a serious relationship until Taylor. This is echoed in Taylor's lyrics.

"Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down"

"Do the girls back home touch you like I do?"

"I don't want to be just another ex-love you don't want to see"

It's interesting to me that Joe gets the royal title of "Prince" but Taylor is just "Miss". This alludes to Joe being British and being under a representative monarchy government, where America is not.

Now into the story:

You know I adore you

The song starts out with a declaration of Taylor's love. This ties in with the theme of the Lover album.

Crazier for you

Than I was at sixteen

Lost in a film scene

I believe this is referring to when Taylor first started her career. She was 16 when her first single dropped. While she wasn't in the acting business, she was still in the world of celebrity. Realizing her dreams with her first single and album doing well, she must've felt as if she was walking a cloud, or "lost in a film scene".

Waving homecoming queens

Marching band playing

These lines do two things at once for me. First, they remind me of the You Belong With Me music video in which Taylor plays a high schooler in marching band. Second, these lines evoke a feeling of victory. Homecoming queens usually wave to the student body after being crowned. Marching bands strike up when their team scores. YBWM was a huge hit for Taylor early in her career, and continuing from the previous lines, her early successes probably made her feel victorious.

I'm lost in the lights

The very last line of the first verse takes a sudden turn. The way Taylor sings this is very different from how she sings "lost in a film scene". When she sings "I'm lost in the lights" she sounds breathless and scared. She is no longer feeling the joy of being crowned homecoming queen or the excitement of your team earning a touchdown. She's not lost in the wonderment of it all, she's lost and scared. She got lost in the fame.

American glory

Faded before me

In this verse, we learn that Taylor is scared because her shining moments, her victories, her happiness is slipping away from her. She did not purposely push it away. It faded like a ghost, slipped out of her grasp.

It is interesting that Taylor links homecoming and football games to "American glory". While homecoming may seem like a tradition, it is distinctly an American high school thing.

Now I'm feeling hopeless

Ripped up my prom dress

Running through rose thorns

This is imagery of Taylor wearing a prom dress, and this immediately takes me back to earlier in her career when she used to wear princess-y dresses on tour. She also wore a prom dress in the YBWM music video. And that very same dress was repurposed for the Fearless Tour's performance of Love Story (calling back to the Lover theme).

Taylor ripped up her prom dress. How is unclear to me, because of the lack of punctuation in song lyrics. Is it "Ripped up my prom dress. Running through rose thorns..." Or is it "Ripped up my prom dress running through rose thorns". Did she purposely rip it herself or did it get accidentally torn by the roses?

If she ripped it up herself, it could be symbolic of her wanting to distance herself from the music business, from the fame, from the plastic Party-City homecoming queen crowns. But I don't think that's the case.

It is more likely the dress was ripped unintentionally. The rose thorns seems to be a call back to the line "Rose garden filled with thorns" in Blank Space. This line means that nothing is as it seems. What looks nice and pretty can actually hurt you. The life of celebrity looked pretty to Taylor at first. She wanted to be "lost in the film scene" with all the glory that a homecoming football game brings. But the industry ended up hurting her.

I am, of course, talking about 2016 when Taylor's reputation went from America's Sweetheart to a "snake". She was on top of the world with a hugely successful album and world tour, but became overexposed because of that success. Suddenly, people who posed as her "squad" on the red carpet started turning against her. Ex-friends and ex-lovers who usually kept to themselves started bashing Taylor all over social media. Longtime fans who had bought every album couldn't stop saying bad things about her. Her social media accounts were flooded with hate comments. The media thrived off of using her downfall as a headline.

I saw the score board

And ran for my life

Shortly after this chaos started, Taylor took a step back from the spotlight. She stopped posting of social media, releasing new music, doing interviews, attending award shows. She disappeared.

No cameras catch my pageant smile

With her avoiding the media, the paparazzi couldn't take new pictures of her "pageant" or fake smile.

I counted days

I counted miles

To see you there

To see you there

It's been a long time coming but

It's you and me

That's my whole world

The "you" here is the Heartbreak Prince, or her love. Taylor went through many hard days before she was able to find love.

They whisper in the hallway "she's a bad, bad girl"

This line evokes an image of teenagers gossiping in a high school hallway. So we're back to the high school theme.

The "bad girl" is referencing Taylor's bad reputation that was mentioned earlier. But it also could be referencing her dating life. Taylor was mocked for years for having a rocky dating life. People would joke that men should stay away from Taylor. Taylor is comparing people who spread rumors to immature teenagers.

The whole school is rolling fake dice

The "school" is Hollywood. People obsessed with fame are fake.

You play stupid games

You win stupid prizes

The students at this metaphorical school are focused on the wrong thing. They risk cheating (fake dice) to win a game that in the end, doesn't yield you a fulfilling prize.

It's you and me

There's nothing like this

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

But Taylor isn't focused on those "little games" (Look What You Made Me Do) anymore. She's focused on someone that really matters to her.

It's so sad

We paint the town blue

Instead of painting the town red in celebration, they paint the town blue. This line reminds me of how Taylor and Joe painted Patrick's room blue together.

Voted most likely to run away with you

To me, this line is referring to how Taylor has jetted off to different parts of the world to be with Joe.

My team is losing

Battered and bruising

I see the high fives

Between the bad guys

Again, we get another visual of a high school football game. Taylor's team is down and others are celebrating her defeat. This reminds me of the Taylor Swift is Over Party, where people were celebrating the end of her career.

Leave with my head hung

You are the only one

Who seems to care

With the whole world seemingly against Taylor, it must've been a relief to meet someone who actually cared about her feelings.

American stories

Burning before me

This feels to me like a reference to Fahrenheit 451, which is about a dystopian society and the effects of mass media. Miss Americana has crumbled. Her glory days have been burned to the ground without any hope of recovery. Mass media and social media played a part in this.

Instead of just repeating "American glory" Taylor chooses to use "American stories" instead. Perhaps it's because no one wanted to believe her side of the story of things. Her truth was ignored.

I'm feeling helpless

The damsels are distressed

If boys will be boys

Then where are the wise men

Darling, I'm scared

The "damsels in distress" reference flows nicely after the mention of stories. Taylor is feeling like a damsel in distress, but no one is coming to save her.

"Boys will be boys" is an expression often said when a young boy acts reckless to excuse their behavior. Perhaps Taylor is waiting for her knight in shining armor, but he has abandoned her to go do something else. Everyone is excusing his behavior but blaming Taylor.

"If boys will be boys, then where are the wise men?" Is one of my favorite lines Taylor's ever written. If men are all off doing stupid shit, then who's the smart one around here? Where are all the men when it's their time to save the damsel in distress?

No cameras catch

My muffled cries

I counted days

I counted miles

To see you there

This could be referring to a long distance relationship. Miss Americana is going through some hard times, as described in the last 2 verses. But her Prince is not there to comfort her. So she has to hold out for a while.

And now the storm is coming but

It's you and me...

There are much more difficulties that lie ahead of the couple. I love how the last word of the verse is "but". and then it leads in to the romantic chorus. It's going to be hard, BUT, we have each other.

And I don't want you to go

I don't really wanna fight

Because nobody's gonna win

The last words of these lines are a standard cheer for high school football teams. The cheerleaders will yell "Go! Fight! Win!" to encourage the team.

Fighting is mentioned a few times in Lover, in songs like Afterglow, ME!, and The Archer. But in each song, Taylor sings about fighting with remorse. She doesn't want to fight with her loved ones or turn against them. Nobody's going to win in the end of the fight because they'll both be without each other.

And I'll never let you go

Because I know this is a fight

That someday we're gonna win

The last part of the bridge keeps the "Go! Fight! Win!" motif but changed the lyrics so that instead of fighting against each other, it's about fighting for each other. They might face some hardships but they'll be alright if they stick together. This song is an encouragement of their relationship.

In the end, Miss Americana became America's Most Hated and The Heartbreak Prince settled down with someone to love.

#taylor Swift #miss americana #miss americana and the heartbreak prince #maathp #lover #taylor swift lyrics

[pennylanefics]

Oscars - Ben Hardy

a/n: in honor of Ben looking so handsome and amazing, here’s some pure fluff. this is longer than i anticipated, but i like it!! the ending is bad, so sorry, and it drags on a little. didn’t plan it, but i think it’s good :)

summary: you attend the Oscars with Ben, hoping everything turns out perfect. But with no Best Picture win, Ben becomes a little agitated and stressed

word count: 4,551

You and Ben had been dating for about four years now. You met while he was filming Eastenders, you ran into him on the street one day. You talked with him for a few minutes, admiring his acting on the show, and it led to him asking you on a date. The rest is history.

You’ve been to all premieres and award shows with him, of course; you were his number one supporter. Although you weren’t used to all of the new attention you both were getting, he always reminded you that no matter what anyone says about you, or your relationship, he still loved you so much.

When he landed the role of Roger in Bohemian Rhapsody, he had no idea that it would lead him to this point, attending the Oscars, with you by his side.

You two arrived in Los Angeles on the Thursday before, as there were a few pre-Oscars parties Ben was going to. You decided to stay back at the hotel, giving him time to spend with the cast and crew. But, when Sunday rolled around, you would be there with him.

At the moment, you were in yours and Ben’s hotel suite, you getting ready with a small team of stylists that you were assigned. They worked on your hair and face while Ben was in the other room getting dressed. He didn’t tell you what suit he was wearing, as he wanted it to be a surprise. So, in return, you didn’t show him what dress you picked out.

“Baby, are you ready?” You heard Ben ask as you started to put on your dress.

“In a minute, Ben.” Your main stylist, who helped you pick out the dress, came up behind you to zip it up and button the clip at the top. It has an open back with designs on the sleeves, which were barely there. The top had a beautiful lacy design that mixed with the sleeves, and the skirt was a gorgeous tulle, a mix of a deep blue and purple.

“Okay.” Ben slowly opened the door separating you two as everyone stood around to take pictures of the moment. When Ben caught sight of you, his eyes went wide with adoration, looking you up and down, taking in every inch of you.

You were doing the same when you saw he was wearing a white tux with black pants. He looked so good in white, and it is so different than every award show he’s gone to since the premiere.

“You look so handsome, babe,” you whispered, stepping closer to him, resting your hands on his chest, covered by the pure white suit.

“Me? Have you seen yourself, you look absolutely stunning. How did I get so lucky?” His voice was the same volume as yours, leaning down to capture your lips with his.

“I love you. Are you ready for the last and best awards ceremony for Borhap?” He nodded, too overwhelmed to say anything.

You two made your way down to the car that was waiting for you. Joe, Gwilym, and Allen were already in the car, so once you and Ben were situated, the car started in the direction of the venue.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Sure, you have been to many award shows, especially in the past month, but this is the Oscars. The biggest night in Hollywood. And you were attending with the cast of a five-time nominated movie. You. A regular girl who happened to be in a relationship with a star of the movie.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, a sign that you were anxious, and Ben noticed quickly. He took one of your hands in his and rested the other on your leg, gently rubbing your knee over the skirt.

“Are you alright, love?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded a little, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

“Just nervous,” you said.

“There’s no reason to be, baby. I’ll be right here with you.”

“How are you not nervous?” You asked, letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Because I have you,” he told you, staring into your eyes lovingly. He removed his hand from your leg to caress your cheek. You smiled softly, leaning into his hand.

“I love you,” he whispered. He was aware that the other guys were watching, being quiet as to not ruin the moment. He didn’t care, though.

“We’re here!” Joe yelled out, practically ruining your moment with Ben. He pulled away from you to step out of the car first, reaching his hand out to help you out. Immediately, cameras were pointed at you, flashes blinded you, and you felt overwhelmed. That feeling disappeared when Ben pulled you into his side, resting his hand on your hip and rubbing the spot soothingly.

The paparazzi went wild at the PDA between the two of you. You moved closer to Ben, if possible, feeling out of place after you saw Emma Stone walk past you.

“Everything alright, (Y/N)?” You heard Gwilym asked as he saw your bright red face.

“Yeah. Just feel a little out of place, is all.” Ben heard what you said, despite being in a conversation with Allen and Joe.

“What’s wrong? Why do you feel out of place?” Ben has taken you aside, away from the group, in a small secluded area behind the photographers. Thankfully, no one was paying attention because there was so much going on behind you guys.

“Because I’m just some regular girl from England who happens to be dating the star of a movie that’s nominated. I feel like I don’t belong here, and maybe coming wasn’t the best decision,” your voice tapered off when you realized your words could be taken as selfish.

“I-I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean that. I want to be here to support you. It’s your first Oscars and you’re nominated, or well the movie is nominated five times. I want to be here for you because I love you. It’s just-“ he cut you off with a kiss, shutting you up and calming you down.

“Love, listen to me. You have been supporting me ever since my career started. Well, my movie career. I don’t want to be here with anyone else but you. You belong here, because you were the one to push me to audition for the part. You’re the reason I’m here, (Y/N). You are the reason these past two years have been the best of my life, besides when I met you two years prior. Believe me, you belong here.” With every word he said to you, he kept his eyes on yours, staring deeply into them.

“I love you, Ben. Thank you.” He nodded slightly, kissing you once more.

“Of course, darling. Now, let’s go walk the carpet because you look gorgeous, and I can’t wait to show you off,” he said, biting his lip and winking. Blushing slightly, you grabbed his hand and headed back to the group.

You quickly forgot about your nerves while posing with Ben and the group. You kept being told to step out of the picture by the photographers, but Ben yelled back at them, telling them you were staying. You hated that he did it, but his little speech came flooding back in your mind.

You are the reason he’s here.

Once you five made it to the end of the carpet, the guys were called over to do a few interviews. You stepped aside to stand with Sara, their assistant for events, while Ben went off with the guys.

“It seems like you and Ben are really in love. How long have you guys been together?” You heard Sara ask. You’ve always stood with her, but have never talked to her. You were always focused on your boyfriend and your mutual friends.

“We met while he was on Eastenders. I accidentally ran into him on the street and, as cliche as it is, he spilled his coffee on me. And now, we’ve been together for four years,” you smiled at her, thinking of all the great memories in the past four years with Ben.

“That’s so cute. I can tell he really loves you, just by the look in his eyes.” Your smile widened as you turned to look at your boyfriend while he stood in a semicircle with the guys, being interviewed. He noticed you staring and winked at you, smirking lightly. You blushed a little and glanced down at your shoes.

“I love him, too,” you said in response to her comment.

The four finished the small, quick interviews in about ten minutes. When they bid goodbye to the last interviewer, Ben made a bee-line directly to you. He immediately attached his hands to your hips, quickly pecking your cheek softly.

“I’m sorry it took so long, love. Gwilym’s answers were so long,” he said dramatically, rolling his eyes playfully. You shook your head at him and rested your hand on his, which was still on your waist.

“It’s alright. I had a good time talking with Sara,” you said, nodding your head in her direction. Ben hummed in realization.

“You ready to head inside?” You nodded again and grabbed onto his hand as he led you inside.

“So, where are we sitting?” You asked when you were away from the crowded entrance. Ben opened his mouth, yet nothing came out. Your eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make a sentence.

“We, um, don’t exactly have seats.” Your eyes widened at his statement.

“What? Why not? You guys worked so hard on this movie, and to have it nominated many times, yet you don’t have seats?” You were in complete awe, and not in a good way. He shook his head and shrugged.

“So where do you plan on going during the ceremony?”

“We were just gonna sit at the bar or in the lobby,” he said like it was no big deal. But, you could see a hint of discomfort and sadness. You removed your hand from his to caress his cheek with your thumb. He grinned a little to show that he was okay, but you could tell he wasn’t.

So, when the show started, the five of you stood at the back, in the doorway to the seating, and watched Queen and Adam Lambert perform. Once that was over, you headed back to the bar, where the guys all immediately ordered something. Ben stuck with a cocktail, he wanted to get hammered, but he knows you hate when he gets like that. And he didn’t want to upset you anymore.

You sat on a small couch in front of the bar, scrolling through social media. You checked Twitter for updates on who won what categories, even though the event was happening in the very building you were in.

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Ben asked as he sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“No. I want to be here when Rami wins, and when Bohemian Rhapsody wins. Every single award,” you said.

“What if we don’t?” His voice sounded so sad and deflated, so you pulled him into a hug.

“If the movie doesn’t win anything, which I don’t believe, it doesn’t matter. People absolutely loved the movie. You all have gained so many fans who love you so much, who love how you portrayed the guys, who love the story you told. Sure, some may not like it, but they don’t matter. For many people, this movie has become so important to them. And to me, I think that’s a real winner.” You felt him smile against your neck, where his face was pressed. He pulled back to give you a sweet kiss.

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“You’re welcome, Ben. I’m here to support you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“I appreciate it.”

You two sat and talked for the longest time, having lost Gwil, Allen, and Joe in the time being. You stood when you heard the announcement for the nominees for best actor in a leading role, the category Rami was nominated in. At this point, Bohemian Rhapsody has already won three out of the five awards, and you and Ben were extremely anxious for these last two.

You immediately ran to the closest entrance to the seating area and stood there, Ben wrapping his arms around you, as you waited for the winner. Gwil, Joe, and Allen showed up beside you two, huddling close together.

“And the Oscar goes to...Rami Malek!” You all jumped up and down, bringing each other into hugs, settling down when Rami spoke into the mic. Tears made their way to everyone’s eyes as he thanked the guys, Brian and Roger, and Lucy. Ben rubbed your waist with his thumb and brought you closer to him.

The night continued, the cast and grew growing more and more anxious as the nominees for Best Picture were all finally introduced. So, here you are again, all five of you in the doorway, waiting for the announcement.

“And the Oscar goes to...Green Book!” The mood and feeling of the air surrounding you guys dropped. They all looked upset and defeated, all their hard work going pretty much unnoticed in the biggest night in Hollywood. Sure, the movie won four out of the five categories it was nominated for, but sound editing, sound mixing, and film editing didn’t show their hard work. It showed the editors and sound people’s work. Which, without them, the movie wouldn’t have been complete.

They were of course happy with the outcome, but they were really hoping for best picture. You could tell that this was really getting to them. I mean, wouldn’t you be upset when you don’t actually have seats to an award show where the movie you starred in is nominated? And when you have the biggest upset after having such great success throughout the night?

It was getting to Ben the most, his happy expression dropped to a sad one. He looked so upset, it really hurt you.

“Babe, do you want to leave?” You asked him quietly as the area started to flood with people trying to leave. You brought him over to the couch you two had been sitting on the entire night.

“No. I want to support Rami, and I don’t want to make it seem like I’m not happy for our other wins. I want to stay for the after party, but I do want to leave earlier than it ends.” You nodded at his words, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I think you won best dressed tonight,” you whispered in his ear, trying to cheer him up.

“Oh really?” He smirked.

“Yep. Have you seen yourself? Pure white suit coat, nice little bow tie, your hair is perfect. You look extremely handsome tonight, babe.”

“I’m glad someone thinks so. I was nervous to wear white, became I’ve only worn black to every red carpet event. So this is so different for me.”

“Well, I love it,” you told him, pressing your lips to his, not caring who sees.

Somehow, in a crowded lobby, full of people trying to leave, tripping over their own feet or trains to dresses, Ben’s soft lips made it seem like it was only you two there.

“Let’s head to the after party, love.” And with that, you two regrouped with the guys and headed to the 20th Century Fox after party. You posed with Ben as photographers continued to snap pictures every second; you still weren’t used to this.

After he was cleared for pictures, you two left the carpet and stood in the corner, sort of away from everyone. Gwilym and Joe showed up with a few drinks for you and Ben, gladly accepting the glass of champagne.

You all stood around, talking loudly over the booming music and everyone else’s conversations. You and Gwilym were talking about Charade, a movie directed by Stanley Donen, who died a couple days ago, when you felt hands snake around your waist, pulling you into their chest.

“Love?” Ben whispered against your neck, lips ghosting over the spot that makes you weak.

“Yeah, Ben?” You asked quietly, quickly apologizing to Gwil and turning towards your boyfriend.

“Can we leave?” He didn’t look well, he looked disheveled and uncomfortable. You nodded and told Gwilym and Joe the situation. They understood, knowing that Ben wasn’t happy with the last award of the night.

You two immediately left the party and walked towards the car you recognized as the one you arrived in. The driver turned around and smiled sweetly, congratulating Ben on the big wins of the night. He smiled back sadly, mentioning that they didn’t win the biggest award, which prompted the driver to drop his smile and turn back around.

The drive back to the hotel was quiet. Ben was staring out the window, chewing on his lip anxiously. You reached over and grabbed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. He finally tore his gaze from the window to look at you. The look in his eyes was enough, no words needed to be said. He was disappointed, and you knew he was blaming himself.

The car stopped in front of the entrance to the hotel, the man quickly leaving to open the door for you two. You smiled and quietly thanked him as Ben stayed silent, with his head down.

Once you made it to your suite, you immediately stripped off your dress and changed into comfortable clothes, consisting of one of Ben’s sweaters and a pair of shorts. Ben, however, went into the bathroom to change. You thought this was odd, he has always been okay with changing in front of you, and vice versa. You thought he was going to take a shower, so you dropped your thoughts.

You were lying on yours and Ben’s bed, scrolling on your phone, when you heard a loud sob. Your eyes immediately darted to the bathroom, where the only possible explanation was. You dropped your phone next to you and ran to the door, swinging it open.

Ben was sat on the closed toilet, still dressed in his tux, scrolling through what you saw was Twitter. You stepped forward to snatch his phone from his hands, knowing what he was doing. He is looking through tweets about him, trying to put himself down even more. You knew he had a habit of doing this whenever he was feeling down.

Your action made him freeze, eyes connecting with yours. Your heart broke as you saw his face. His eyes were glossed over, filled with tears, many falling freely down his cheeks. His cheeks were bright red, you couldn’t tell if it was from the drinks or crying, or both. His lips seemed more plump, you guess he was biting them so hard and picking at them, they became a little swollen. You noticed his hands were slightly shaking, along with his body as he sobbed even more.

“Baby…” You set the phone on the counter and kneeled in front of him.

“You need to breathe, Ben. Everything is going to be okay, alright?” He shook his head at your words, breaking down again.

You stood back up and grabbed his hands, pulling him to stand with you. You brought him into the main room, sitting him on your bed. You started to undress him, shrugging his suit coat off, then undoing his bow tie, and finally his dress shirt.

He seemed to calm down enough to finish getting undressed as you walked over to the dresser to gather a set of clothes for him. You kept silent, knowing that’s what he needed right now.

You held out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants for him, but he shook his head. You let your arm fall to your side, the clothing still clutched in your hand.

He took the shirt and slipped it on, leaving the pants to stay in his boxers. Still sitting on the edge of the bed, you walked into the suite, which is where Joe was staying, to hang up his outfit to make it easier for the stylists to come pick up tomorrow.

When you returned to the main room, Ben was still sat on the bed, looking extremely exhausted and worn out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, your voice just below a whisper to make sure you don’t upset him.

“Uh,”

“You don’t have to. I just wasn’t sure what you want to do,” you cut him off, not wanting him to think you are forcing him to speak.

“No. I do. I don’t want to keep it in, it’s not healthy.” You nodded and motioned for him to get under the covers with you. He got the message, and moved back onto the bed, shifting his legs under the comforter. You slid in next to him, bringing him into your arms.

“Jus’ wanna cuddle for a little,” he whispered, nuzzling his face on your neck. You nodded and rubbed his back soothingly. You felt his body shake a little before he broke down again. You felt a pool of tears on your neck as you held him closer, bringing your other hand to run through his hair.

“Shhh, it’s okay, bub. You’re okay.” You continued to whisper sweet nothings into his hair, making sure he knew you loved him, and tons of people around the world do as well.

After about ten minutes, he finally calmed down and pulled away from your body. You kept your hand on his back, just for comfort. He wiped his cheeks before looking to you. Your heart broke yet again, seeing how broken he actually is.

“Why didn’t we win?” His voice was soft and almost fragile. You sighed as he finally admitted what was on his mind.

“Do you think it’s because of me?” He added before you could respond to his first question. Your eyebrows furrowed at his thought.

“Why the hell would it be your fault?” You tried not to sound rude, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this loss being his fault. It’s impossible. He shrugged and stared down at his hands, picking at his fingernails.

“Ben, listen to me. As I said earlier today, in my opinion, the real winner is the fact that this movie has come to mean so much to so many people. Fuck the haters who are saying anything about the movie, about Rami, about the guys, and about you. You guys still won four out of five awards. And I know the rest of the cast didn’t get much recognition, but the fans know how hard you worked on this, how grueling you worked to learn the drums. They won’t care about one award because you have given them a movie to love and cherish.” He nodded along as he stared into your eyes.

“I don’t know why you didn’t win, honestly. The movie is so great, you guys did such a great job at portraying the band, you especially. From lying about knowing how to play the drums, to turning out a real rockstar and knowing how to play thirteen Queen songs in six weeks, is so fucking amazing. The Academy may not see that, but your fans do, and the band does, and I do. You did an amazing job playing Roger, babe. Believe me, it is not your fault.” You were now facing him completely, sitting cross-legged, holding his face in your hands. You could see the happiness coming back to his eyes as a soft smile found its way to his lips.

“I love you so fucking much, (Y/N). Thank you,” he said, his voice strained. You smiled back, leaning closer to kiss him softly.

“I love you too, Ben. Always. I’ll always be here when you win, and when you lose. Forever.” A few tears fell down his cheeks once more, you wiping them away as they made contact with your thumbs.

“Why are you still crying, babe?” You asked worriedly.

“Because I’m so lucky to have you,” he said simply, closing his eyes to cherish the moment.

“I’m lucky to have you too.”

“Can you hold me for the rest of the night?” He shyly asked, slipping further down the bed so he was fully laying on his side.

“Of course.” You scooted down some to match his position, his face falling in your neck again. He cuddled into your side, one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulder, supporting your head. He was almost laying on top of you, but he knew that he would crush you if he did.

“Goodnight, Ben. Tomorrow will be better, alright? We’re going to fly home and get some rest, spend some time with Frankie. And I’m going to make sure you don’t ever feel this way again, because it really breaks my heart seeing you so hurt and broken over this.”

“I’m sorry, love. But thank you for comforting me through this. I wouldn’t have been able to calm down without you,” he said quietly against your skin. You brought your hand to his back again, slipping under the shirt to stroke his bare skin, knowing that your touch calms him down immediately.

“It’s okay. Just go to sleep,” you murmured against his forehead. He let out a deep sigh and cuddled closer to you.

“I love you,” he whispered sleepily, one last time before he fell into a deep sleep. You stayed awake, making sure he was okay and staying asleep.

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard the door click and Joe and Gwilym walk in loudly. You shushed them as quietly as you could, nodding down to your sleeping boyfriend. They nodded understandingly and went to their respective beds.

“Is he okay?” You heard Gwilym ask as he glanced over at you two.

“He’s pretty shaken up over the loss of best picture. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but it really got to him. I think he’s better than he was, thankfully.” He hummed softly and leaned down to kiss your forehead, seeing as you were exhausted as well.

“Thank you for taking care of him. I mean, I know you two have been together for four years, but I’ve grown really close with him, and I hate seeing him so upset.”

“I do too. I’ve never seen him this worked up over something, it broke my heart.”

“Well, you should get some sleep too. Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Night, Gwil.” You shuffled a little to get more comfortable, which accidentally woke Ben up. He moved a little, removing his right arm from around your shoulder to under the pillow you were laying on, his left arm still around your waist tightly. He sighed softly again, feeling more comfortable. You felt him press a tiny kiss against your neck, where his lips were.

“I love you,” you whispered to him once more, bringing one hand up to thread through his hair.

“You’re my award for life,” you heard him murmur as he fell back asleep, you quickly following behind him.

tags: @thewinchesterchronicles

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #brian may #imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic

[realitv]

is love freedom? or only a longer leash? + Law

MABEL. not accepting.

  COURT SUMMONING: THE LAW CALLS THE MASS MEDIA TO THE STAND. A trial is just another form of a live television show; the jury is just another audience. YOU HAVE TO PULL IN RATINGS. The public did not want ’real’. Real was a drab, rag tag world of dishwater browns and bullshit that never made for good television: GIVE THEM DRAMA! GIVE THEM HD LIVE STREAMS AND GIRLS GONE WILD PARTIES. GIVE THEM A GOO-GOO DOLL, BEDAZZLED VERSION OF THE WORLD AND MAKE THEM LIVE THROUGH YOU. Now that, viewers, is good television. Anyone else would melt under the glare of energy efficient spotlights; a pound of cake face make up sliding off of silicone and not a hair out of place, not a smudge upon the canvas; red, red lips stretched into a bleached out, award winning smile that belonged on GOOD MORNING, AMERICA and a hush falls over the audience. YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE: THIS IS A LIVE STUDIO, WE CANNOT PREDICT RESPONSES. Nylon coated leg crossing over another and it’s a more intimate setting; green screen dissolving and it’s familiar. Sleek and minimalistic; a sterile space with just enough fake plants to almost feel homely. LOOK, VIEWERS. IT’S LIKE YOU’RE RIGHT HERE WITH US! IT’S JUST LIKE WE’RE ALL JUST HAVING COFFEE IN YOUR HOME. Up close and fucking personal: viewers, I have no eyes for anyone but him.

  “You’re being very introspective, darling.” Half a drawl, half teasing; the pointed edge of their shoe brushing against his pant leg and it’s a moment the cameras gloss over; trained upon two profiles, two sets of unblinking eyes and upon the world’s sound stage, they are much too close. “–Almost bordering on sentimental.” VIEWERS, HE KNOWS WHAT THAT DOES TO ME. Something real and warm and too close to HUMAN in their eyes and it’s a soft expression; out of focus and filled with feedback from boom mics and somewhere along the broadcast, a signal jams. The image flickers. A fuse shorts and the audience is left in the dark. The audience is left waiting. A dark, vast, gaping void of WANT and it leaves them starved. Leaves them parched. WE’RE SORRY: THE PROGRAM YOU ARE WATCHING HAS BEEN TAKEN OFF AIR. PLEASE STAND BY. Viewers, there are some things I will never show you. Static buzzing in the background and the liminal space between them is no longer dark; no longer so filled with pretence and jargon. A CLOSE UP PLEASE: IT’S JUST ███ ███ █████ AND ███ ███; FILLING UP THE BACK STAGE.

  They are not really there. Haven’t been for years. Oh, viewers: I gave up that pesky flesh and all I got in exchange were rows and rows and rooms and walls filled with screens. WHAT GOOD AM I IF I CANNOT TOUCH HIM? WHAT GOOD AM I IF I WILL NEVER BE CLOSE TO HIM AGAIN? IT’S JUST BAD WRITING. All alone in sterile white space and they are fractured; eyes and lips all focusing, all moving at once; flashing between the plasma monstrosity they had become. SAY, WOULDN’T YOU LIKE AN UPGRADE? SmartTv; AppleTV ain’t got nothing on me, sweetheart. “Asking a reporter to be honest is a tough one. But you’ve got me under oath, darling. Don’t be shy.” A toss of those over processed curls; synthetic hair fried under bleach and perms and blow outs, camera cutting to a careful close up and the screens shift with them; another mosaic of their being created in perfect technicolour. “I think… I think we have known each other long enough –” CUT. CUT CUT CUT. HEY. HEY. THAT’S A SHITTY LINE. YOUR DELIVERY IS OFF. TRY IT AGAIN. THIS TIME, WITH FEELING. Oh, viewers. He could always make me feel. Their image skips; buzzes. Warps. Separation was so much easier when there was glass between you.

  “There was only ever one rule between us.” Unsaid. Unspoken. Unwritten. Weighted by the smooth bone that remained a delight to their skin decades after its creation. An artificial sigh passing through their lips and for a moment they are emblazoned upon each screen; a larger than life, 1080p creature and one by one, by one, by one; they flick off. Stutter. Hum. Dark and vast and DEAD. A dull shine to matte plasma and only one is left standing. One is left fit to air. Small and vulnerable; quiet. “You never tried to bind me. I have not forgotten how hungrily you once looked at me. How you still look at  me. Like you could suck the synthetic marrow from my mainframe and leave me hollow. All those edicts and codes and papers, and you never once tried to deny me my nature.” Nature vs nurture: he fed me from the palm of his hand and I licked his fingers clean, viewers. “Never made me go, never made me stay. Never brought me to heel.” Soft. Gentle. Voice distant and low-fi and it echoes. “You let me go, my darling. And what did I choose to do? Oh, I followed you.” Always a step behind him. Always too late.

  The plasma screen is cold even to their lifeless fingertips. Unpleasantly so. Hand pressing into glass and it’s a distance tinted with regret. Static filling their head like the beginnings of a blowfly infestation and they shake it away; shut those all seeing eyes. VIEWERS, I THINK I’D LET HIM EAT ME, IF HE ASKED. I THINK I’D LET HIM DO ALMOST ANYTHING IF HE SMILED. Something bubbling in their throat and the censor bar screeeeeeeeeeeams. They choke on it. Sputter. WAS THAT – WAS THAT NOT TELEVISION APPROPRIATE? “There was only ever one rule – I broke that, darling. And even then, you let me be. Oh, darling.” Mouth filled with static and it tumbles out; a frighteningly tangible thing. “Do not ever think of this – what is between us – to be a leash.” Head dipping; zoom lens obscured by hair and they seem to sink. VIEWERS, KNOW THIS: He was the first thing I knew and he will be the last thing I speak. VIEWERS, LISTEN TO ME. He is the one creature on this Earth I would gladly fall silent for. Eat and be eaten, one in the same. Limbs and bodies twined so close to together one could call it art: an imperfect sculpture titled ’NEED’. Unknown. Flesh and silicone. Adoration. A frightened, fluttering thing they can’t quite give name to; all brought on by his name kissing their ears. His hand upon their back. His eyes. His smile. OH, VIEWERS: AM I GETTING SENTIMENTAL? It’s all I have in this day and age; it is all I can give him.

  “If this was a leash–” Sputtering. Falling silent again and he had not even needed to put his hand to their lips. Signals flickering and they think it feels like aching. Feels like pain. Feels like a million things they’d tried to overwrite. Tried to cancel. IT’S JUST NOT GOOD TELEVISION! All things they remembered. All things tucked away in archives and film cases; left to deteriorate in Hollywood backlots. All these things, viewers, that come back with him. All these things that have never left. Their silence is something heavy, something real; something that rattles in the spaces between them and weights down their tongue. Something they’d pry open deep within their mainframe to remove, to place it hot and pulsating in his hands and find it home at last. The hard line of their shoulders breaks, slumps. Something defeated in their stance, something close to sorrow in their eyes. “If this was a leash, you would stay.”

#hey nee --- #The Robot Is Capable Of Love #📺❝ ( verse. ) PUT A PILLOW OVER THAT FEELING. BEAR DOWN. SMOTHER IT ! #📺❝ THE SCREEN HAS ALL THE ANSWERS ! ( answered. ) #📺❝ IS HE... YOU KNOW... YOUR NARRATIVE FOIL? ( media & law. ) #godlyground

[gothify1]

Below-freezing temperatures and bulky outerwear can make winter a challenging time, sartorially speaking, but come January, the gloves are off—both literally and figuratively—when Hollywood’s jet-set touches down in sunny Los Angeles for award season. Thanks to a blockbuster year in film, music, and television, the 2019 red carpets are an opportunity to make a major statement. Here, we’ve shown an early spotlight on 23 actors and musicians guaranteed to land spots on the 2019 awards season’s best-dressed lists. Let’s start with a red carpet renaissance woman: Lady Gaga is going to have an epic award season. We can’t wait to see what she wears to the Golden Globes, the Oscars, and the Grammys when she wins big for basically everything A Star Is Born is nominated for; her style evolution has been a true Hollywood glow-up! A close second and perennial team Who What Wear fave, Emma Stone is bound to inspire your next black-tie event look when she hits the red carpets in 2019. Think she’ll take any notes from her character, Abigail Masham, in The Favorite and go full baroque, or keep it completely contemporary with the latest from Louis Vuitton? Speaking of The Favourite ,  Joe Alwyn , aka Baron Masham, aka the first earl of Leicester in Mary Queen of Scots , is guaranteed to have a memorable awards season (especially if Taylor Swift is on his arm). The 27-year-old British actor had a banner year with four movies premiering in 2018, and undoubtedly cribbed a few style notes from several of Hollywood’s leading ladies—we have a feeling his star status is about to skyrocket. Of course, award season wouldn’t be a must-watch moment if not for a little healthy competition. Saoirse Ronan and Margot Robbie , two of 2018’s best dressed and co-stars/rivals in Mary Queen of Scots , are absolutely going to slay—sartorially speaking. Spoiler alert: There’s a clear winner in the film (and, um, history), but we’d be absolutely thrilled if the top red carpet ranking featured a tie between these two sensational style stars. While we’re revisiting history, let us remember the ground-breaking, earth-shaking, and red carpet–rousing movie of the year, Black Panther . Boasting an all-star lineup and memorable world premiere in which the cast paid homage to African royalty, we hope this stylish crew—especially Chadwick Boseman, Lupita Nyong’o, Michael B. Jordan, Leticia Wright, Danai Gurira, Daniel Kaluuya, and Angela Bassett —continues its winning streak throughout award season. Wakanda forever! Crazy Rich Asians , one of the most over-the-top and enjoyable fashion films of the year, was a feast for the eyes both on screen and at the red carpet premiere. Constance Wu , the movie’s leading lady, worked with celeb stylist and Who What Wear contributor  Micaela Erlanger  for the press tour last summer, creating gorgeous looks for a range of appearances. We love how they play with fashion together and can’t wait to see which designer is selected for the Globes in January. Fashion’s latest It boy, Timothée Chalamet , had an incredible 2017 with Oscar-nominated films Lady Bird and Call Me by Your Name , and this year, he added Golden Globe nominee to his list of accolades. Not only does the Beautiful Boy star embrace bold colors and prints, but he’s also reportedly self-styled. We’re impressed! If you haven’t already heard of Kiki Layne , don’t worry—you will soon. Her breakout film, If Beale Street Could Talk , an adaptation of James Baldwin’s 1974 novel by Oscar-winning director Barry Jenkins, has already been nominated for several Golden Globes ahead of its premiere. Kiki has a major year ahead of her with at least two other projects in the can, and we’re excited for her red carpet debut with Regina King, her fellow Beale Street star and Golden Globe nominee. Rounding out our list of film favorites is a newcomer, Elsie Fisher . At just 15, she has captured hearts as the cringe-worthy (in the best way!) ingenue of Bo Burnham’s directorial debut, Eighth Grade , which premiered over the summer. Elsie has already made an impression at smaller red carpet events, and she recently spoke to Vanity Fair about her affinity for suits, remarking, “I feel like suits are very me… I look poppin’ in ’em!” We couldn’t agree more. As far as red carpet style goes, we find musicians tend to be a bit more daring than actors, which is why we’re especially excited for the 2019 Grammys. One woman who never ceases to surprise us with her style chops is Cardi B, who is up for album of the year for Invasion of Privacy . Whether Cardi goes full-on glam, breaks a piece out of Versace’s archives, or debuts her upcoming collab with Fashion Nova, we know she’ll dress to impress—red bottoms, guaranteed. It’s no surprise that with the rise of the rosé wave in pop music came the return of cowboy boots . At the center of this ethereal yet empowering moment is singer Kacey Musgraves . The “Velvet Elvis” singer has already racked up several Country Music Awards but was recently nominated for album of the year for Golden Hour , transcending the confines of her genre, and presenting an opportunity to show off her unique mix of vintage-meets–high-fashion style at next year’s Grammys. We’ve had our eyes on Dua Lipa ever since she explained “New Rules” to us in 2017, and we were thrilled by her two Grammy nominations this year. Up for best new artist and best dance recording, this edgy British singer and street style star will undoubtedly make a major red carpet splash throughout 2019. Is there anything Tessa Thompson can’t do? In addition to her appearance in Janelle Monae’s much-buzzed-about “Pynk” music video, the Creed and Westworld star is a style chameleon who’s bound to thrive during award season—even if she’s just there to support her friends and castmates, the similarly suave Michael B. Jordan and Thandie Newton. Let’s talk about Lili Reinhart for a minute: Not only has she captured hearts as Betty (and Dark Betty!) on Riverdale for the past three seasons, but she’s also become a media darling, sharing insights into acting , acne , and of course, all things Archie. Notably, we love her brand-new campaign photos for the Mighty Company x Ilaria Urbanati celestial-inspired charity collection—hey, if anyone can pull of stars and stripes on a red carpet, it’s Lili. See you at the Emmys? If you haven’t already caught up on Atlanta , consider this an official mandate. You’ll probably recognize Zazie Beetz as Vanessa Keefer, Donald Glover’s character’s ex-girlfriend. Or maybe you remember her from Deadpool 2 as Domino, a mutant whose superpower is luck. Either way, Zazzie is definitely one to watch this red carpet season, especially since she’s being styled by Jason Bolden, whose other clients include Yara Shahidi and Sasha Lane. Be sure to look for her at this year’s Golden Globes supporting Donald, and hopefully again on the Emmys red carpet next fall. Finally, we’ve got the one and only  Busy Philipps. Unless you’ve completely opted out of pop culture and social media this year, Philipps has been on your mind—or more accurately, on your phone! A forever fave from early aughts teen dramas Dawson’s Creek and Freaks and Geeks , Philipps has BLOWN UP in 2018 thanks to her hilarious commentary, candor, and colorful style which is broadcast via her Instagram, recently released memoir, This Will Only Hurt a Little , and new E! show, Busy Tonight . Working with stylist Karla Welch (who also counts Tracee Ellis Ross and Sarah Paulson as clients), you know Busy’s bound to bust a move, whether on the red carpet, in her nightgown, or at a tiny trampoline class. Think I missed any potential red carpet style stars of 2019? Hit me up on Twitter or Instagram at @Drewblahblah and we’ll put them on Who What Wear’s radar before the New Year. Up Next:  From the Oscars to the Golden Globes, Cannes to the British Fashion Awards here’s where you’ll find the most glorious red carpet looks .

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Breaking The Curse: Part 1

Pairings: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Word Count: 1,640

A/N: For the sake of this story, the reader is the actress that played in all of Jennifer Lawrence’s movies. So basically she’s the southern Jennifer Lawrence. And I changed timelines around to fit the story because I can. First time writing Tom Hiddleston so be nice, please. 

Aesthetic by @sorenmarie87

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I seriously hate these dang heels.” You grumbled as you fiddled with the black strappy things your stylist had insisted you wear. You glanced up at your assistant and life long best friend who you basically considered your sister, Chelsea and sighed. “Why’d she have ta pick these ones?”

“Because they make your legs look good.” She responded without looking up from her phone. “Please stop fidgeting, (Y/N).” You growled and sat back against the chair.

“So I shouldn’t leave the damn things in the car?” Chelsea looked up at you with a smirk.

“Why do you have to make my life more difficult?”

“Because that’s my job. You keep me in line an’ I make it as hard as possible.” She exited out of the app she was in and stowed her phone beside yours in her bag.

“Well let’s get this over with. Behave, you hear me?” You mock saluted her as your town car pulled up at the end of the red carpet.

“So I shouldn’t strip naked on the red carpet at the Golden Globes in protest of the damned shoes?” Before she could answer you, your door was opened for you and the small car was filled with shouts of fans that lined the start of the walk. You plastered a smile on your face as the train of your light blue Versace dress landed on the ground behind you. 

You took half a second to steady yourself on the heels that you despised more than life itself before making your way down the line with the rest of the celebrities and ‘cattle wranglers’ as you liked to call them. Photos were taken, interviews were given, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous every time someone told you that you good luck on being nominated for best actress in a drama for your role in ‘Joy’. But you didn’t let it show on your face once. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N), right this way.” A young usher said as you walked inside the building. You smiled at him and took his offered arm so he could lead you to your table. It was the same song and dance each time you went to an award show but this time, it was different.

“Well ‘ide the whiskey, trouble’s ‘ere!” You scoffed and looked over at your close friend and past co-star from when you played Mystique years ago, James McAvoy with a sarcastic eye roll.

“You’re still salty that the southern girl can drink a Scot under the table.” You teased as you went over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Y’all ready for tonight?” He shrugged as he pulled out your chair for you as your assistant dropped off your phone for you before finding her own spot in the back of the room where she much preferred to be.

“Well we all know ye’ve got yer award in the bag.” You playfully hit his arm as he sat down on your left beside you with a shrug. “But I’m up against this tosser.” You turned to your right to where James was pointing as handsome man sat down beside you with a smile on his face.

“No hard feelings when I win, right James?” Tom Hiddleston asked with a laugh.

“Oh, those are fightin’ words here.” You giggled as you turned toward him and offered your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

“Tom. It’s a pleasure.” He said as he politely kissed your hand.

“Way to try to get in ‘er knickers, Hiddleston.” James teased as he signaled to the waiter to order a round of drinks.

“Oh, sweetheart. Bless your heart.” You chided as you put your hand on your friend’s arm with a playfully evil smile. “Look at you insinuating that I actually wear panties.”

“So, that’s the kind of night it’s going to be then.” Tom said with a laugh as he grabbed his glass of water off the table. “Well cheers to the brilliant minds that though putting the three of us together was a good idea, then.”

“Hell, I’ll drink to that.” You said as you grabbed your water and tapped the glass against his. You met his blue eyes as you both took a sip and you slowly lowered your glass when they appeared to slightly change shades as he moved. “Wow. Your eyes are amazin’.” He huffed a laugh as a slight blush rose to his cheeks.

“It’s funny, I was just thinking the same about yours.” With a smile, you looked away and set your water down as the waiter brought over your Jack Daniels and Coke.

“Well thank you, darlin’.” You looked back over at him and held up your drink. “Toooo… pretty eyes and winnin’ awards.” He bowed his head the slightest bit in agreement as he took his own Jameson from the waiter.

“To fun.”

——

“God why did I go ta that aft’a party?” You groaned as you pulled your ball cap down further over your sunglasses in the bright airport lounge the morning after the Globes.

“Because you were celebrating.” Chelsea said simply as she continued to organize your life with you while updating her own social media and personal life like a one woman show. “You said it would be worth it.”

“Chelsea, I love you… but I need ya ta shut the hell up right now.” Your best friend chuckled as your phone buzzed in your hand. You huffed as you glanced at the screen at a text message from an unfamiliar, London area code phone number. Curiosity got the better of you and you unlocked your phone and pulled up your messages.

Hello (Y/N), this is Tom… Hiddleston... from last night. I hope you don’t mind but I acquired your phone number from James after you left. I meant to ask you but we parted ways before I was able too.

You couldn’t help but smirk at the formality of the statement as you tapped the response bar.

Mornin’ sunshine. Forgive me for not believing you off hand but I actually recently had someone leak my phone number and had to change it twice. Got any proof for me?

You adjusted the brightness of your screen and shifted slightly in your seat as the three little dots appeared on the screen. They scrolled through a couple times before disappearing, reappearing again and were replaced by a response.

I apologize that this will be blunt… but you said James insinuated that you had no knickers on. That was the first conversation we exchanged.

Your face flushed red behind your shades and you quickly hit respond.

OK! I believe you! LOL Can we just let the record show that I did have panties on… and can we never, ever have this conversation again so I don’t have to continually die of embarrassment?

You didn’t have to wait long at all for the three dots to appear again.

Consider it noted and forgotten. Congratulations on your win last night, you deserved it.

You smiled to yourself as your flight to North Carolina was called to start boarding. You knew that gave you about twenty minutes before the final call was made when you would board.

Same to you. I have to admit that I haven’t had a chance to finish the series yet but I loved what I’ve seen so far.

“What’s got you all smily?” You looked over at Chelsea, who was smiling at you over her phone as your phone buzzed in your hand again. 

“Not a damn thang, thank you Miss nosey butt.” Your assistant laughed as you looked back down at your screen with an even bigger smile.

All is forgiven, darling. I must also admit that I myself didn’t see your film until late last night, myself. You were spectacular! Did you enjoy filming in Paris? It’s one of my personal favorites.

Thank you. I actually loved Paris! I wished I could have stayed longer but it just wasn’t in the cards. I’ll go back one day hopefully.

Well, if you ever want or need a Paris tour guide, please feel free to let me know. I’d be honored to show you the city. There’s this restaurant I go to every time I’m in town that has the most stunning view over looking the city. It’s simply magical.

“Hey, pack it up, it’s time to go.” You scowled up at Chelsea between the bill of your hat and the top of your sunglasses as you hit the respond bar.

“Rude.” You said as you looked back down at your phone and slowly stood up.

Sounds like a date. But hey, I’m fixin’ to jump on a plane to head to my home town for a couple days. Can I give you a call later tonight? Maybe work out the details of this date?

You didn’t realize you were actually partially holding your breath for his response as you gathered your bags to catch the final boarding for your flight. You weren’t able to actually check your phone again until you had yourself tucked into your first class window seat. You took a deep breath and looked at your phone as the flight attendant made the announcement that the doors were closing.

Sounds wonderful. Enjoy your flight, darling. I look forward to your call.

Your smile grew impossibly larger as you sent a fast ‘Thanks’ back to him and turned your phone on airplane mode for the flight. You looked over at Chelsea, who was staring at you expectantly with a smile of her own.

“Alright, I’ll tell ya.” You said as you turned on your seat in your seatbelt toward her. She mimicked your move and crossed her legs as you put your sunglasses on top of your head and told her everything.

Part 2

#Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Breaking The Curse