#that was later confirmed to indeed be a nod to those actors

[orionsangel86]

I dont know anything about The Last Of Us, except what I have seen on Tumblr. Celebrating queer love at an older age is a glorious thing for sure, but getting SPN allumni Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles to guest star as themselves in a future episode per the games nod to Cockles would be the real power move to make all the tumblr gays break down and officially, finally, lose their minds and I am here for it if/when it happens.

#cockles #misha collins #jensen ackles #the last of us #obviously from what ive seen this show is doing a phenomenal job #and this latest episode is something to be truly celebrated #but i couldnt resist making a cockles joke #i remember when the game sequel came out #and spnblr went mad about the cockles nod #that was later confirmed to indeed be a nod to those actors #so like hello?? #anyway i dont watch zombie shows #but im glad this zombie show is doing something RIGHT

[yutahoes]

Ghost of You

pairing: idol! Yuta (NCT member) x idol! Y/N (solo idol-actress)

word count : 5k words

genre: angst

summary: He was the one who ended everything. But you’re like a ghost that kept haunting him. 

warning : break up, alleged cheating, pregnancy, a fic where you just want to strangle Yuta to death 

Based on this ask. I’m sorry, I tweaked the story and changed some of the song (especially the Olivia Rodrigo one because it doesn’t fit the story) The songs I used are linked in the story. Also, I have no idea how the idol world works and please note that this is just fanfiction. Please Enjoy reading. 

Broken glass, an empty unruly apartment. Signs that a big fight happened. All because of a tabloid article of him seeing his co-host late at night. Yuta argued that she needed someone to talk to and Y/N was angry that he winged their anniversary V-live just for this. “You can tell me if you’re sick of me, Yuta.” she claimed that made him hiss. “Don’t you think I didn’t notice? You’re always making up things just so you can’t meet me.” 

“That’s not true!” Yuta shouted. “I am busy.” 

Tears ran down her face. “Then explain how Jungwoo had lunch with me last Friday when you said that you’re practicing with your members.”    

“Stop saying that I don’t even make time for you.” His voice raised in frustration. “When all you do is hang out with that co-star of yours.” 

The girl scoffed. “So it’s my fault now? It’s work, Yuta.” It’s always the same reason. “I asked you a lot of times if you’re alright with the drama and you never mention anything. Now, you’re using it against me?” 

The guy shook his head. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“And I’m also tired.” She whispered. “Let’s end this, Yuta.” She threw the promise ring before leaving the apartment. 

The news next day was about Y/N erasing pictures of them in her social media accounts. The breakup news between the solo idol and the NCT member followed. Taeyong just shook his head watching Yuta exit the CEO’s office with droopy shoulders. “I really like her for you, hyung.” Mark claimed when he entered the practice room. 

He didn’t know where it went wrong. They were happy. Everyone likes their relationship. His fans are her fans, and hers are his. They were tagged as the greatest idol couple, often paired in dances since it’s both their strengths. Y/N was casted in a period drama and he’s a supportive boyfriend who visited her the first day of the filming and thanked everyone for taking care of his girlfriend. She filmed romantic scenes, kissing her actor co-star. And he was fine. “It’s work, Yuta.” She would always say. And he would just smile. 

He started hosting a radio show with a female Japanese idol and he was cold at her, wanting to stir away from controversy. But as her drama progressed, with more romantic scenes and more kissing, he felt left out. She’s becoming a star. And he’s becoming Y/N’s idol boyfriend. Slowly, he’s getting fed up with the relationship that’s slowly getting centered on her. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air that it all ended now. Like a thorn removed from his aching heart. 

All the public’s sympathy went to her, as he expected. She’s the star. The more famous one among the two of them. So he just painted himself as the bad guy by confirming that he’s dating his co-host which surprised the other girl. The agency was surprised at the decision but it became such a media frenzy that their radio show got high ratings every week. Even the sales of their album spiked up and he became known as NCT’s Yuta and not as someone’s idol boyfriend.

Everything is getting better. 

-----      

It was the end of the year award show when they crossed paths again. They were doing a great job avoiding each other. Why now? Nine members meant a vacant seat from the round table artists are seated at. The staff repeatedly apologized but as kind as she is, she just smiled and sat between Doyoung and Jaehyun, just across Yuta. She greeted all the members, even complimenting Haechan’s hair and Taeil’s suit. “Congratulations on best album.” she greeted, smiling widely to avoid the awkwardness. 

“Aren’t you releasing an album as well?” Johnny asked that made her nod. “Another dance track?” Taeyong asked but Y/N shook her head saying that it was a ballad album and that she will perform later. The guys were obviously surprised, ballad isn’t her best track. She’s more known for her dancing skills so it is indeed a huge surprise. 

When the best female idol awardee was called, the NCT members all stood up to congratulate her. Jungwoo even helped her with her pink lace gown. She did the usual thank you message: thanking her parents, the almighty being, the management, the staffs, and her fans. “And lastly…” Yuta gasped. Whenever she gets an award, she thanks him lastly for comforting and always supporting her. “Please watch out for my album.” He felt his heart drop, especially when she smiled that angelic smile. Why is she shaking him like this? 

Yuta was already bored. He just wants to go home. The lights dimmed and the emcees announced her as the next performer. Because it’s a live performance, they showed some clips of her photoshoot for her new album. He had to agree that this concept fits her. She looked prettier than when they used to go out.

He was more surprised to see an orchestra accompaniment behind her on stage. Her, seated on a platform, wearing a white sequined dress that shines like stars when the spotlight shone on her. The crowd clapped just as the start of the song played. (Imagine this as the performance.) 

The other members warily glanced at him. A break up song. Why isn’t he surprised? 

My dream changed - instead of a famous singer, I tried to become a good wife

He remembered how she would always try to learn to cook whenever she had extra time. She never mentioned anything to him. It was until one night, they were laying next to each other, when she asked him if he wanted her to continue being an idol. That made him curious that time. She loved performing. Why would she ask that? 

Now, he knew why. 

By the time the second chorus rolled in, he was just amazed at how she could sing those notes while seated down. Her singing really got better. 

Someday you’ll probably call me then I hope you will be a man and congratulate me

Because this is all thanks to you, I’ll prepare a good thank you message for you

He can hear Mark giggling beside him. Johnny pursed his lips as if preventing to laugh. “Hyung, please record her thank you message.” the youngest member teased that made him annoyed. 

Her voice echoed all throughout the venue. Her adlibs hitting notes that she cannot do before and she’s sitting while doing that. 

Slowly, I got over you like that

Their eyes met. Those sparkling eyes. She’s shining. She looks well. She looks better. Without him. 

The fresh air suffocated him, burning his lungs in the process. The thorn that was removed came back and brought friends, a knife tearing his heart into pieces. 

Everything is getting better. For her. Not for him.

The moment he went inside the empty apartment, he felt like breaking down. This is harder than the time she left. He missed her. He’s a wreck without her. A huge mess. Why is he taken over by his jealousy? She deserves to be the center of the relationship. The star. She deserves the whole world. Is it too late for him to get everything back now? He took his phone as a song on the radio played, “Mark, I need your help.” 

Another award show meant another chance to cross paths with her. To Y/N’s surprise, Yuta congratulated her with a wide smile after winning an award. The staffs were repeatedly asking if the members were sure of doing this that made the manager and the leader nod. Johnny was seated in front of the grand piano, Mark on one side with his guitar. Taeil, Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Yuta seated on different chairs in the middle of the stage. (Song)

Johnny started the melody while Mark played his guitar. Jaehyun started the song that made Y/N look at them from the artists’ place. Yuta smiled. Her favorite band. Taeil started singing the chorus with Yuta as back-up vocals. Doyoung sang the second verse while Jaehyun sang the chorus, followed by Taeil. By the end of the song, they lightly glance at Yuta. His last cry for her. 

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

And I chase it down, with the shot of truth

He glanced at her, staring straight to those sparkling eyes. 

That my feet don’t dance like they did with you

The lights dim but he saw her silhouette remain on her seat, shoulders visibly heaving. Behind the spotlight, Yuta finally realized that like a ghost, he cannot shake her off. She’ll keep haunting him because he cannot let go of her. Yuta finally realized that he is still in love with her. 

They had been busy with the concerts abroad and she had been busy with the promotion of her album. Yuta’s co-host quit the radio show and days later, it was announced that she was pregnant. The members were surprised at first but it was her who confirmed that Yuta isn’t the father of the child. The public sympathy went to Yuta for the alleged cheating that the girl had done, making him in the center of the media frenzy once again. 

It was a Japanese radio show when he met Y/N again. He had to promote the Japanese leg of their concert while she promoted her Japanese single. She looked casual greeting him, as if nothing happened but her words echoed in his ears “It’s just work, Yuta.” Maybe it was really nothing to her. 

They were seated next to each other. He watched her put on her headphones then rubbed her palms together. “I kinda forgot Japanese.” she claimed then said a Japanese phrase to introduce herself. “Is that right?” He nodded, his warm gaze still on hers. Too casual. “I’m nervous.” 

He wanted to hug her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything will be alright. That he’s next to her so she doesn’t have to worry about anything. 

But he can’t. She’s not his. 

The host kept on claiming that they looked good together that startled them both. When the staff told him something in Japanese, he kept on apologizing while saying that he doesn’t know that they used to date. She just smiled, shaking her head to avoid the awkwardness. She really did move on. The radio show went smoothly until the last part where they had to sing a duet together. Y/N was obviously surprised. Didn’t she know? “We can skip it if you don’t want to.” Yuta whispered. 

Once again she shook her head. “It’s fine. I just haven’t prepared for it.” she claimed while looking at the music sheet. “The notes are a little high.” 

“You’ll do great. Your singing got better.” She giggled at the reference and he smiled. He missed her laugh. 

Y/N focused on the lyrics, asking the translator to tell her what the words mean or how to pronounce it. Yuta was reading the lyrics, seated next to her when she laughed. “Yuta,” she called and he felt his heart jump from his chest. He missed her voice calling his name. “Should we switch parts?” He looked surprised, curious even. “I mean, the lyrics.” 

Yuta smiled. “Should we?” 

Y/N giggled. “Sometimes I am convinced they’re doing this on purpose.” He smiled while looking at her. He missed her. So much. 

The host was asking repeatedly if they want to continue this, apologizing if it ever makes them uncomfortable but she would just smile and shake her head. He thanked her for being professional and she grinned, making Yuta breathless. He missed her smile. 

They were introduced and she even made a fighting sign at him as the melody started. It was a lonely song and Yuta poured all his feelings on his part. (This is the song they used. Dude, can they just remaster it by asking Yuta to sing this?) 

Long time no see

His eyes turned to her. He missed everything about her. 

We cannot express how we feel

Breath echoes in our ears 

The radio show staff all turned to them in surprise. 

My dear, you’ve already found a new love

She turned to him with her sparkling eyes. 

There is no one like you

I am cheating my heart

He sang while staring at her. She even missed the first beat of her part then smiled while looking at the music sheet in front of them. The bridge of the song came and the staff looked in awe at both of them.  

But you are not mine anymore

They stared at each other while singing those words. By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was breaking so she stepped farther from the mic immediately. A smile escaped her lips when the host asked if she’s alright, apologizing that she ruined the song. Everyone were giving them compliments, fans commenting on how amazing they deliver the song and wishing that they can do a collab in the future. 

“Y/N,” Yuta called on the hallways of the building. He breathed hard while she just nodded at her manager, asking her to go first. “I…” He started but the words cannot come out of his mouth. I’m sorry. My ego got the worst of me. My insecurity caused our fall. I’m a wreck without you. Please come back to me. 

“Let’s not talk about it, Yuta.” She said while shaking her head. “We were immature. We’re so used to each other that we took each other for granted.” She grinned once again, eyes sparkling. Upon closer look, he figured out why. Her tears were forming. Like little pearls in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Yuta.” The words he cannot tell her. “Let’s be happy, hmm?” 

Yuta smiled, taking the hand she held out. “Can I call you when I am feeling miserable?” 

The girl laughed. “My number didn’t change.” She claimed. “And I still have to give you my thank message.” 

He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. “I missed you, Y/N.” 

------

Fans were delighted seeing Y/N and Yuta seated next to each other in the V-live account. A thing they always do every year on their anniversary. She was smiling, her lovely smile, while waving at the camera. Yuta adjusted the camera to capture them both before smiling his angelic smile. 

“I didn’t know your V-live account still works even if it isn’t used for a year.” She claimed, leaning in to read some comments. “I also didn’t know that there are still fans who come in this V-live account.” The number of watching people raised up that startled even Yuta. 

They both introduced themselves in a lively manner before the NCT member explained that they did this V-live as a thank you to fans who trended the song they sang in Japan. “I didn’t know that it would blow up like this.” He claimed and she nodded, even laughing at how embarrassing it is that her voice broke in the end. 

They started reading some comments about how fans missed them together, that they look together, and that their playfulness as a couple came back. “Are you back together?” Yuta read, pointing at the comment. 

“We’re not together together,” Y/N started then emphasized the last word with air quote marks. “We’re just…” She lightly glanced at him who was looking at her, mirroring the same smile she had. “Just patching things up and fixing ourselves.” Yuta continued for her. 

“Is there a possibility of a come back?” 

Y/N giggled before pointing at Yuta. “NCT is coming back with a new album. I’m preparing for a fall comeback.” The guy laughed at that. “Yuta, do you want to be featured in my album?” 

He nodded immediately. “Will you write me a love song?” 

She grinned, shaking her head playfully. “I’m not gonna write you a love song~” she sang before laughing. Yuta chuckled, poking her side playfully. “But we’ll see.” 

The fan asked what they had been up to. Y/N shared that she’s writing songs for her album and Yuta saying that he hangs out with the members often and the preparations for their comeback. “I’ve been hanging out with Jaehyun a lot.” he claimed, “I’ve been liking his music choices lately.” 

“You’re already done with your rocker state?” She asked, feigning a shock. “What song have you been listening to lately?” 

Yuta smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket. He played the song and Y/N smiled that there’s still a rockish feel on it.  (Song)

Oh, all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

Yuta mouthed the words, trying to look for comments but his gaze was on her while jamming on the song. A smile crept his lips and he saw how one fan pointed out that he’s so in love with her. He is. 

“This song is so nice.” 

“Honestly, it kinda reminds me of you.”

He’s singing ‘She’s a, She’s a lady And I am just a boy’

He’s singing ‘She’s a, She’s a lady’ And I am just a line without a hook’

Oh baby, I am a wreck when I’m without you I need you here to stay

She looked surprised when Yuta sang the lines of the songs. The side of his lips curled up when he saw the sparkle back in her eyes. They talked a bit about what fans should watch out from their respective schedules. They said goodbye in a lively manner before Yuta ended the V-live. 

Y/N leaned on the couch, breathing heavily. She lightly glanced at Yuta and he smiled. “Want to get some sushi?” She nodded, grinning widely. 

Yuta cannot shake her off. Like a ghost, she will keep haunting him. And hopefully, she can come back to him. 

#hotpinklists #yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta angst #yuta nakamoto angst #nakamoto yuta angst

[v-hope]

Unscripted

Pairing: Actor!Kim Taehyung x Actress!Reader ft. (mentions of) Park Hyungsik

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

Request: “Is this the moment that we kiss? + Taehyung + make it so awkward/cringe as you can and the ending so cute that you might have to throw up from it”

Summary: There might have been a slight change in the script for the k-drama Taehyung and you were starring on, but that did not mean there were any changes when it came to the way you felt towards each other when the cameras weren’t rolling.

A/N: So this was supposed to be a smol drabble but this idea came to my mind and I just went with it 🤧 i hope you guys enjoy!

When Taehyung had signed up to be a part of the next big k-drama coming later that year, starring both you and one of his favourite hyungs, Park Hyungsik, as his co-stars, he had signed up for a love triangle kind of plot, which would end up with him getting the girl in the end.

At least that was what the first script he had been handed to said.

And, as the story went on and your characters’ relationship developed, he could only be confident about that being indeed the outcome for it.

So now, after nearly three months of filming, it was finally the day they would shoot his first kiss with you. Well, his character’s first kiss with yours, to be more specific. Those were the lines he had rehearsed and also what he had emotionally prepared himself for — the idea of getting to kiss those lips of yours he had wanted to get a taste of ever since you first met, being the reason he had gotten little to no sleep the night before.

And that’s why, when the two of you were working on said scene, being face to face after he had followed you into Jieun’s —that being the role you were playing— living room, and you said different lines than the ones on his script, he found himself being absolutely puzzled. Nevertheless, everyone else seemed to be okay with it, which is why he carried on, saying the lines he had rehearsed, and this time being you the one to be completely dumbfounded.

However, even though you didn’t know what was going on, you did not find it in you to lean back and away from his lips, as you felt your heart beat ever so hardly against your chest at the sight of him leaning in to kiss you.

Not like it mattered anyway, for although you might have not found it in you to do something about it, the director didn’t have a problem with it — a loud “cut!” resounding all around the set, managing to stop Taehyung from pressing his lips on yours like both of you had so badly been anticipating.

“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing?” director Han questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

Taehyung’s mouth formed a pout, both because of not understanding what was going on, and because the moment he had been looking forward to the most —that being, your kiss’ scene— had been interrupted before it could even take place. “Isn’t this the moment we kiss?”

You found yourself taking in a shaky breath at his bold question, focusing on the lips of his that remained slightly puckered up in confusion after some people from the staff had gasped as others tried their best not to laugh.

“In the old script, yes. But not in the new one”.

“The new script?” Tae asked, giving you a quick glance and growing even more confused when you confirmed it with a small nod.

“Yes, you didn’t get it?” director Han had seemingly grown irritated by then.

“I… don’t think so?” Taehyung replied.

The director sighed, looking to his assistant next to him. “Okay, find out whose fault this was and tell them we need to talk” he ordered sternly, before he looked around and announced to the rest of the crew: “Everyone else, take five!”

With that said, and everyone else dispersing around the set to mind their own business, the man went up to the two of you.

“God, I can’t believe we’ll have to push back the recording because of this” he pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“It wasn’t his fault” you defended Tae in a heartbeat, causing his eyes to soften as they gazed to you.

“I know” director Han agreed with you, much to your surprise. “Still sucks though”.

That it did.

“So…” Taehyung begun. “What is this thing about a new script?”

“Oh, yeah,” the older man didn’t wait to begin his explanation. “You know how we’re always taking into consideration the viewers’ opinions as we go on with the story?”

“Yes…”

“Turns out, they all are over the moon with Y/N and Hyungsik’s chemistry,” those simple words were enough for Tae to feel uneasy. “So, after giving it a lot of thought and having a few meetings, we decided they will be this story’s endgame”.

Well, that surely had felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown straight to his face.

And although there were so many questions he wanted to ask, and so many of them he could’ve asked, he ended up looking at you and asking the one his heart felt more troubled with. “So you’re kissing Hyungsik hyung”.

It had not quite came out like a question, but more of a statement, yet either way, you nodded in affirmation.

Taehyung sighed. “I mean, hyung mentioned something about a kissing scene but… I didn’t know you...”

And although you didn’t have to explain yourself to him, at the sight of his disappointed expression, you felt the need to do so anyway. “It will only be a couple of times though. And it’s only for the drama, I wouldn’t—”

“Okay, look,” director Han cut your words off mid-sentence. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two when it comes to your personal lives, so I’ll leave you guys to talk it out. But um… we’re done for the day, I guess” he sighed, later fixing his eyes on Taehyung so he could inform him: “I’ll send you the new script. You guys may leave now”.

Nodding your heads, you watched the man head out of the set, leaving the two of you alone to ‘talk it out’.

The thing is, there was nothing to talk out. Or, more precisely, you didn’t know how to talk out what you so desperately wanted to do. Because you had feelings for him and he had feelings for you, but neither of you knew about one another’s. At least not for sure.

Truth be told, the two of you felt an instant attraction to each other the moment you met, but you thought nothing of it. You were both professionals. You would be a couple on the drama and that would be it, for you both knew getting involved with a co-star could only complicate things when it came to work.

However, that mindset of yours did not quite go to plan as the filming went on and you got to spend quite a lot of time together. Yes, your characters were written to fall in love, and so you had to act like it when the cameras were rolling, but the chemistry you and Taehyung had outside the set was, for sure, so, so much stronger than the one your contracts forced you to act out.

And so, soon enough, the two of you would be attached to the hip, spending not only every second off camera on set together, but also texting nonstop every other day you didn’t get to see each other.

It had just been so natural for the two of you to get along so well together, that neither of you questioned it. Neither of you had questioned why you felt like keep talking to each other every single moment you were apart, or why you craved one another’s attention whenever you spent time with other people of the crew… or why your hearts sped up so damn much every single time you were close.

You didn’t question any of that, you just went with it. To the point you came to terms with your feelings without having to go through any kind of epiphany. They were just there, and you would keep them to yourselves.

That’s why this particular kissing scene was so important to the both of you, for it would give you an excuse to do what you were dying to without actually having to risk anything. And that’s why you had been so disappointed when you got the new script three days before, and why Taehyung was now having such a hard time accepting the new fate of the plot.

“I, uh…” his eyes fixed on yours after a few seconds. “I’ll go change now…”

“Oh, okay…” you nodded. “I’ll go do the same”.

The sweet smile you gave him right then had somehow managed to ease the tension he had been feeling those last couple of minutes.

“You want me to drive you home?” he wondered like he did every day your shootings ended at the same time.

You could always just call your personal driver, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try to spend as much time with you as he could. And the fact that you accepted his offer every single time could only encourage him to keep on doing so.

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked with another smile, causing one of his own to take over his factions.

“You know I don’t”.

“Okay” you accepted, like it was oh-so-usual by now. “I’ll meet you at the parking lot in ten?”

“Yeah” he agreed, his smile only growing bigger at the way your stares had lingered before you turned around to go change into your personal clothes for once and for all.

That’s how, ten minutes later, just as agreed, you were entering his car, fastening your seat belts before he started driving over the route he knew by heart at this point.

The ride was quiet, yet not uncomfortable — both of you having too many things on your minds to even pay attention to the way the only sound filling the car was coming from the radio.

Both of you debating within yourselves whether or not you should bring up the topic the two of you were about to discuss before director Han interrupted you back on set.

And when Taehyung parked his car outside your place and you thanked him for the ride home, placing your hand over the door handle so you could pull at it and get out, he found himself speaking before he could even stop himself.

“Hey, uh…” his quite unsteady voice caught your attention. “It slipped my mind to say it before, but sorry about today…” he apologized when your eyes met his. “I never meant to make things uncomfortable for you… for us…”

You smiled sweetly at his sincere words. “It’s okay, Taehyung-ie” his heart jumped at the way his name sounded like honey to him whenever you said it. “It wasn’t uncomfortable… I was just, you know… worried you would get scolded because of the script and all that”.

“Yeah…” he recalled the way you had jumped on his defense the moment director Han had approached you. “Thank you about that…”

“It was nothing…” you shrugged. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about it” it was now your turn to apologize. “I know we talk quite a lot and I had the chance to, but I just assumed you had read the new script”.

“It’s okay, don’t worry” he reassured you.

“Do you have time to learn it?” you wondered, knowing both his idol and actor schedules tended to overlap a little too much.

Taehyung nodded softly before he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll manage”.

“That’s good” you smiled as well. “If you want to rehearse our scenes beforehand or just need help with yours… just hit me up”.

“I probably will, to be honest” he chuckled, earning a light laugh from you; for going over your scenes together from time to time, just for the sake of it, was something the two of you had found out to be rather helpful these last couple of months. “Sucks you will be rehearsing the kissing ones with hyung now…”

Your heart jumped, feeling your face heat up at his boldness.

“I don’t think we’ll be rehearsing them. I mean…” your eyes nervously gazed to the window. “We never did…”

Taehyung took in a deep breath. “Right…”

And although a part of him was screaming at him to just shut his mouth, for he had been bold enough already, he couldn’t help but go on with it; not wanting to let go of the topic just yet.

“Why didn’t we?”

Because we’re idiots. Because it would’ve felt too real. Something along those lines was the answer you wanted to give him.

Instead, you said nothing, just shrugging and looking out the window to your place. “Doesn’t matter anymore…” your eyes travelled back to him, taking in his beautiful factions and anticipating eyes before you explained: “Junho’s the one getting the girl now”.

The way your eyebrows had teasingly moved up and down as you referred to Hyungsik’s character, got Taehyung throwing his head back against the driver’s seat as a loud whine escaped his mouth.

“Aish, you little—”

He wasn’t planning on finishing that sentence, of course, so he stopped himself mid-sentence right as you threw your head back as well — a loud laugh coming out of your mouth.

“Just for the record,” you faced him, catching his attention. “I was really rooting for Sehun”.

A flustered laugh abandoned his lips, shaking his head in disbelief before his chocolate eyes fixed on yours once again. “Yeah… he would’ve been good to Jieun” he lamented his role’s defeat with a small, dramatic nod.

You giggled. “I know. But J—”

“If you say Junho will be better, Y/N, I swear to fucking God—”

Just like he had cut off your words mid-sentence right before, you cut his — only not with actual words, but with a cackle instead. “Biased much?”

“Sehun would’ve been better and you know it!” he accused you.

“Oh, yeah?” you questioned rather tauntingly, unconsciously moving closer with a daring demeanour.

“Yeah” he stated confidently. “And he would’ve kissed her so much better, too”.

Although your heart had skipped a beat at that and your hands were suddenly trembling, you went on with the teasing, not being ready to lose the unspoken competition this conversation had somehow just turned into. “Hm... I wouldn’t know about that though…”

“I can show you if you want”.

Just like that, Taehyung left you speechless.

He had gone for it, and was waiting for an answer now. One you weren’t able to give him with actual words, but with a small, almost unnoticeable, nod of your head instead.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him, though — the way your eyes had focused on his attractive lips being the last straw for him to just finally let go of any rational thought he might’ve had until then.

Tenderly cupping your face, he brought his face just close enough to yours so you could feel your already heavy breathings mix, before he gazed up to your eyes for one last brief second.

“Is this the moment we kiss?” he mocked his previous words that day, earning a giggle from you that sounded like music to his ears.

“Just kiss me already, you dork”.

So he did.

Gently caressing the corners of your mouth with his thumbs, he brought your face up to meet his lips in the middle — softly pressing them together.

And only that took for you to know you would, from then on, not enjoy kissing any other than him.

Letting out quiet, content hum when he deepened the kiss a few moments later, you pressed your hands on his chest, causing him to smile at the way your hands had lightly tugged at the fabric of his sweater as you managed to pull him even closer to you.

Damn the directors for depriving you both of the many kisses you could’ve gotten as the series went on.

“Was that Sehun kissing Jieun or Taehyung kissing Y/N?” you couldn’t help but softly ask once your lips were no longer trapped in his cloudlike ones.

He laughed under his breath, sweetly running his thumbs on your cheeks. “If I said it was just me kissing you, would you be okay with it?”

You nodded in a heartbeat, not being able to hold back a small giggle that had his heart skipping a beat in a second.

“Oh, good” he finally breathed out the air he didn’t know he had been holding, letting his forehead rest on yours. “Because I’ve wanted to do that for a while now”.

“So have I” you laughed lightly under your breath, lovingly removing a strand of hair that was covering one of his pretty eyes. “Maybe our characters won’t get to be together but… that doesn’t have to apply to us, does it?”

“Absolutely not” he smiled, planting a small peck on your lips. “Even if people think you have better chemistry with hyung, whatever that means”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the bitter remark he had let out, followed by a huff. Director Han’s words had really stung deep. Maybe if it had just been that the viewers liked Junho and Jieun together, it wouldn’t have been that bad. But he said Hyungsik and you. As your own persons outside of the fictional drama world. And that was a whole different situation he could not help but dislike.

Kissing his cheek ever so sweetly, you pulled back to fix your eyes on his. “Good thing I don’t care what they think” those words alone made that cute boxy smile of his show on his face. “Are you okay with me having to kiss him though?”

“Can’t promise I won’t get a little jealous, but… it’s your job, of course I’m okay with it” he smiled reassuringly. “I’ll have you know, though,” his eyes squinted daringly. “For every time you kiss him, you’ll have to kiss me a hundred times to make it up to me”.

You snorted. “Don’t you think that’s a little too overpriced?” your teasing words had him raising his eyebrows. “How about five kisses for each time I kiss him?”

“Did I stutter?” he lowered his tone to seem more serious, causing you to bite your bottom lip as you shook your head in amusement.

“Oh, well…” you sighed over dramatically. “You’ll be too distracted kissing me to even keep count of them anyway”.

“Don’t test me, baby”.

“Okay, okay. I won’t” you laughed, catching him by surprise when the next second your hands tugged once again at his sweater to pull him closer. “May I pay some of those in advance though? Since there will be way too many of them to pay for in a few days”.

Taehyung chuckled, gently pushing your chin up with his thumb as his face came closer to yours, until his pink lips were faintly brushing yours. “That you may do”.

#bts #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #kim taehyung #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts reactions #taehyung reactions #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung

[ktheist]

side story 1 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ warnings. implied smut

➙ synopsis.

“you look endearing when you’re half-asleep.”

“how bout a kiss... and some morning sex?”

x

“wakey wakey eggs and bakey.”

you would think another you morphed out of your subconscience and started making breakfast in your kitchen and then proceeded to wake you up with those words.

well, if not for the fact that subconscience-you must have smoked at least 20 packets already after morphing into existence because the voice you hear is an octave too deep and has a sort of masculinity that even your sleepiness can’t overshadow.

you’re forced to pry your eyelids open, noticing the silhouette of a man walking waltzing past the bed and to the windows before nimble fingers pulling the cords down and letting golden rays pour over the red oak floor.

“five more minutes, jinnie,” you grumble, pulling the covers over your head once you’ve confirmed the person walking around in the room and saying a you-like phrase isn’t some clone that talks like you.

though, they say you start mimicking phrases and habits of the person you love.

the bed dips a few seconds later.

“the pancakes are gonna get cold,” his voice sounds muted under the covers.

“i thought we’re having eggs and bakey?” you push the covers down, glancing over at him with a pout.

seokjin chuckles, fingerpad pushing out your hair from your face, “if you promise to get up, i’ll make some for you.”

“but it’s so early, come back to bed,” you tug on his thumb which takes your whole hand to fully grasp.

“i have work and if you don’t get up now, taehyung’s gonna barge in and get disappointed when he doesn’t catch us having sex,” seokjin wiggles his hand, making yours move too just as you’re about to close your eyes again.

“he’s so fucking annoying, what is he? your mom?” you grumble, finally giving up on sleep and releasing his thumb before opting to stretch your arms over your head.

“he’s your best friend,” his tone should sound more accusing than it does as he boops your nose, a series of chuckles falling from his mouth.

“can we though?” you tilt your head just the slightest bit, one laying above your head, the other stretched over the empty spot that seokjin left.

“can we what?” he asks, as if he doesn’t have the slightest idea. wide eyed and raised brows and all.

“you know,” with one swift movement, you’re laying on your side, facing him, hand snaking from underneath the covers and onto his thigh.

he blinks, an amused yet curious smile on playing on his lips.

and that’s the thing about kim seokjin. he’s an awfully good actor that you don’t know if you should ruin the moment with your nonexistent morning wood or if you should close your legs like you’re prepared to devote yourself to god just for this morning.

the kiss on your forehead breaks you from your reverie. you think your heart quite literally stops. your cheeks going warm as you gaze up at your boyfriend that amused smile curving into the softest, heartwarming smile you’ve ever seen.

“you’re very endearing when you’re half-asleep.”

you think you hear something snapping.

perhaps your sanity.

hands reaching up to intertwine behind his neck, you pull him down while pushing yourself up and hooking your leg over his hip. before you know it, he’s laying beneath you, as you cradle his sides. a playful smile blooms on your lips.

if you were half-asleep then, you’re fully awake now.

“how bout a kiss?” your hand slips under his shirt, sparks coursing through your veins as you feel the soft ridges of his abs, “and some morning sex.”

“are you sure you can take it?” a warm hand massages the side of your thigh, “it’s okay if you’re still sore. we barely got any sleep last night.”

at that, you involuntarily bite your lower lip. memories of last night comes flashing at the back of your head like a film. your legs clench to close together at the realization that you’re indeed satisfyingly sore but stop when you realize you’re cradling seokjin’s lap.

“you cooked me breakfast, it’s only right that i show you my gratitude,” you lift yourself up on your knees before lowering yourself on his semi hard self.

the sound of seokjin’s sigh is music to your ears as his eyes draw shut, appreciating your warmth.

but it’s short-lived. a series of hurried padding echoes from the hallway as if someone was running away. as if the devil was on his tail.

“ha!” taehyung bursts into the room, swinging the door open dramatically.

but that ‘gotcha!’ look on his face downturns into disappointment when he sees seokjin with his arm under his head and his other hand holding the phone in his face as he scrolls through something - probably instagram.

you’re stopped dead in your tracks halfway to the door with a towel around your shoulders and an annoyed look on your face.

“the fuck, taehyung?”

“i-” he looks between you and his brother and back to you, as if unconvinced.

but with no other evidence at hand, taehyung lets go of the door handle and takes a step back, as if physically pushed by an invisible force.

“oh good, you’re awake,” he casually says, head nodding at the direction of the- “bathroom’s empty, if you wanna wash up or whatever.”

and with that, he disappears into the hallway to where the kitchen is.

seokjin is the first to let out a relieved sigh, dropping the black screened phone on top of his chest - he couldn’t unlock it because it’s yours. his is laying on the kitchen counter where he left it after checking out the time to see if it was enough sleep-in time for you.

“next time,” you look at your boyfriend with an ‘i told you so’ expression, “we’re fucking at my place.”

granted, dorm rules mandate no guests past 10pm but anywhere is better than being cockblocked every morning by your boyfriend’s annoying brother. 

x

taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii @kimmieloveswho​

note. weeeee an impromptu side story

edit. requested by an anonymous for my drabble game but i incorporated it into this side story yay

#bts fic #seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fics #seokjin fics #bts x you #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #bts x reader

[ruined-my-dramatic-entrance]

Hat’s Off to You

Platonic fluff, a bit silly or OOC but not a crackfic lol, 1659 words TW: S!Janus

“What’s going on here?” Patton asked as he popped up.

 After rolling his eyes and a moment of hesitation, Virgil replied, “Princey brought up some dumb idea about Janus having some weird secret hidden under his hat and now he and Logan are debating it.”

 “Well, what’s all hat about?” the moral side inquired further with a grin.

 Though Patton had expected Virgil to at least smirk at this, the latter instead protested, “Please, just get them to stop for now or something…”

 “Okay, kiddo. Sorry about Pat — uh, I mean that,” Patton corrected himself quickly before turning his attention to the other two.

 “I still think it’s probably something weird and evil, like some devil’s horns or — or pointed ears,” Roman insisted, gesturing to the vague areas that those body parts would be placed on himself.

 “If Janus were to be hiding something underneath his hat — which I still have very significant doubts about — then it would probably be a result of his half-snake composition, such as a lack of hair on that side of his head, covered by scales,” Logan chimed in with an even tone.

 “Well, yeah, maybe, but it still could be something… much more sinister that reveals how Thomas truly visualizes Deceit in his mind,” the prince suggested with a deep curiosity.

 “Wouldn’t that be you, Roman?” Patton asked with an innocent smile.

 “Wha—? No, I’m not a liar! I’m an actor but I am not Deceit,” Roman dismissed, clearly offended.

 “No, that’s not what I meant, and I was talking about Janus, not evil,” Patton said, subtly reminding Roman to be kinder about the side in question. “I meant that the way Thomas views Deceit as a concept would be your creativity, kiddo,” he explained.

 Roman paused for a moment. “I… suppose you’re right,” he agreed.

 “That would make sense, though it would still have the influence of how Thomas feels about the concept of Deceit in genera—” Logan tried to elaborate, but was cut off by Roman.

 “By Artemis’s beautiful bow, I think I know!” the creative side exclaimed with a wide gesture.

 “You’ve… decided on a guess?” Logan prompted, frowning slightly in curiosity and pushing his glasses backwards as he scanned Roman with his eyes.

 “Oh, brother, what is it now?” Virgil groaned, pulling his hood up over his head.

 “That’s the spirit! What do you think, Roman?” Patton encouraged excitedly.

 “Wolf ears,” Roman answered simply, as if the answer was obvious.

 “Uh… might’ve misheard you there, Kiddo,” Patton fretted, leaning in a bit closer in hopes of understanding Roman’s words better.

 “That… is an interesting guess. I suppose I could see some reasoning for this,” Logan mused, placing his knuckle against his lips in thought.

 “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this, dude,” Virgil pleaded, pulling his sleeves over his hands.

 “No, no, I’m serious!” Roman persisted, holding out his hands in a “wait” gesture. “From my best understanding of how Thomas views deception, he gets consistently stuck on the phrase ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ and sometimes he imagines liars as having certain wolf traits,” he finally explained. “Though, he usually only does that past 3am,” he added with a slight shrug before looking towards the rest of the group for approval.

 “In addition to that, Janus does seem to... work alone, if you will, with his varying goals for Thomas — a lone wolf, perhaps,” Logan elaborated, “Wolves are also regarded for their intelligence and have very complicated social dynamics, maybe tying into Janus’s ability to use charisma to his advantage. Symbolically, wolves are also regarded as confident, which he definitely exhibits.”

 “Come on, you don’t actually think Janus would have something as… as stupid as that,” Virgil disagreed, rubbing the back of his neck. Logan narrowed his eyes at the way he stumbled over his words.

 “Virgil, I expected you to be less… concerned about this matter — furthermore, to mock him for it,” the logical side deduced, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “So… either you’re embarrassed about something similar or something is wrong here,” he declared, causing the room to fall silent for a few seconds.

 “What’s wrong with Virge, Logan? Don’t just leave it all… ominous like that! It’s scary,” Patton fretted, looking at the side in question with worry.

 At that moment, Virgil showed up, shoving aside the “Virgil” that had been there before, who was pushed into the wall and reverted back into his true form.

 “Did someone say ‘scary?’” Virgil asked nonchalantly, giving Patton a quick glance before returning to glaring at Janus.

 “Deceit!!” Logan yelled, pointing at Janus.

 “Yes, yes, we’ve noticed, Logan, no need to sound the alarm, especially not so loudly,” Janus remarked.

 “Virgil!” Patton and Roman exclaimed in unison with smiles.

 “What was he doing here? What did he say?” Virgil asked, voice serious and impatient.

 “Nothing much! Since I got here, he was just denying some of Roman and Logan’s theories about what’s under his hat,” Patton recounted.

 “Yes, padre is right; that’s all the snake has done, nothing particularly evil or sinister,” Roman confirmed with a slight nod as if his valiant watch had kept Janus in check, whereas in reality he hadn’t really noticed.

 Virgil snickered. “You mean ‘cause he’s insecure about this?” he asked with a mischievous smile as he managed to snatch Janus’s hat, revealing a pair of… dark wolf ears.

 “Hah! I knew it! I called it! That was me, I was right. Got it before Logan,” Roman announced proudly before clearing his throat awkwardly and growing quiet to listen.

 “Only because it was your interpretation of symbolism,” Logan muttered under his breath, petty.

 “Aww, you’re like a teddy bear!” Patton commented with a gasp, “Or a puppy! Why would you hide this? We wouldn’t make fun of you for something so cute and nonthreatening!” He paused suddenly, realizing that he had just spoken the exact reason. “Ohh…” He grimaced slightly in guilt.

 “Yes, well, isn’t this lovely. This is exactly what I wanted, Virgil, thank you,” Janus complained in annoyance, shooting the man in question a pointed look. “It’s obvious that this is totally a part of myself that I like and wanted to share with the group.”

 “Janus, we won’t make fun of you for it, especially if you’re so insecure about it,” Patton reassured, looking around the room for agreement and receiving nods from everyone… as well as muffled snickers from Roman and Virgil.

 “Grandma, what big ears you have,” Roman murmured quietly under his breath, unable to resist the temptation.

 “What does it matter anyway? It’s clear I’m viewed as but a beast or a — a monstrous creature. Why would words make that any different?” Janus retorted to Patton, both his eyes and his phrasing giving away his hidden sadness.

 “Well, Janus, you of all sides should understand the power that words can hold,” Logan reminded tersely.

 “Regardless, Thomas could have at least chosen something scarier rather than just… an amalgamation of different animal symbols out of confusion,” Janus griped, gesturing into the air in frustration.

 “Weird is better than scary if it’s constant. Trust me on this one,” Virgil insisted, though his expression turned to one of slight… sympathy?

 “Trust isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Deceit responded, casting an unpleasant glance across the rest of the room. “I wonder why?” he added sarcastically.

 “It’s not my department either but…” Virgil trailed off, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this to you of all people,” he muttered. “But… I know what it’s like to feel different and unnecessary and — and like you’re built to just be weird, to just be the outcast,” he admitted, avoiding looking into the half-snake’s eyes. “I know what it’s like but… it’s not like that here, not with them. Not with us,” he assured, fiddling with his sleeves.

 “I think we all owe Janus an apology,” Patton pointed out. “I’m sorry for not respecting your privacy,” he said, looking at the aforementioned man with empathy.

 “I apologize for my earlier behavior. I was curious but not considerate,” Logan chimed in concisely.

 “I… suppose I’m sorry too,” Roman agreed, though he opened his mouth to say something else and closed it a moment later.

 “I guess I shouldn’t have… done that,” Virgil mumbled, handing Janus his hat back. “But you shouldn’t have impersonated me either.”

 “Very well, very well… I’m sorry for taking your place and deceiving you,” Janus replied, “though it did take them quite a while to catch on…”

 “It is indeed odd that Janus’s impersonation of you is much more accurate than of me or Patton,” Logan commented, frowning again in contemplation.

 “And that Virgil already knew about Janus’s ears,” Roman added, looking at Virgil in confusion.

 “Well, I —” Virgil began nervously.

 “— The little brat has done this before, you see,” Janus excused as he interrupted the anxious side. “It was terribly irritating,” he recalled about the false event, examining his nails through his gloves. “And yes, I’m afraid that the emo is the simplest to mimic -- it’s dreadfully easy,” he mocked, though said emo looked up at him when he realized that Janus had just… covered for him and his past as a dark side. That was not anywhere near what Virgil had expected.

 “Ah, that would make sense,” Logan accepted with a slight nod.

 “I, for one, still can’t decide whether his fluffy little ears are scary or, uh, adorable,” Roman admitted.

 Janus scoffed and examined his nails through his glove. “If you’re disturbed by this, wait until you find out what Remus hides under his mustache,” he pointed out.

 After a beat of silence, every other side in the room turned to him in a mixture of surprise, fear, and disgust, all exclaiming some variation of “hold up,” “wait,” or “what?!” Except for Patton, who simply remarked, “Well, I suppose we must-ask him later” with a chuckle.

#ts sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #ts janus #tss janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #tss virgil #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #tss roman #tss #ts #ts patton #patton sanders #tss patton #logan sanders #ts logan #tss logan #ts deceit #deceit sanders #mine

[the-scooby-gang]

Us... But no quite

Part 4

Summary: After falling thought a portal while they were being chased by their most horryfying monster yet, The Scooby Gang finds themselves in a place they never been before. A place called Crystal Cove

Now also avaible on Ao3

“What are you guys doing?”

The question broke their walk down memory lane like a bullet in a quiet night.

The vampire looking waitress was standing over them, one eyebrow up questioning, a hand in her hip and the other lazily holding the notepad.  

They held harder to each other prompting the other eyebrow to follow the first.

“Like, we are connecting, dude” Shaggy shrugged, a mask already plastered on his face. “Like, getting more in tune with each other, you know? After all, I have to trust this danger prone mystery lovers, to like, not let me die. This creates bonds stronger than blood, man”

“Rit ralso relps rif ranxiety” Scooby head emerged from under the table, causing the waitress to take a step back. The waitress chuckled softly her previously rigid posture melting away.

“Well, it is certainly a way to deal with things” she giggled, shaking her head. Getting a pen out of her dress pocket, she angled herself towards Shaggy “Yours is the biggest one Shaggy, so what is going to be?”

Quickly taking a look at the menu, Shaggy ordered a little bit of everything. While the stream of highly detailed food order was being made, the hand that was not holding Velma’s was taping the table. They collectively thanked whatever God or Goddess that could hear them for the week where Fred and Velma decided that knowing Morse code was an indispensable skill in mystery solving.

She knows about us .

Ok don’t panic was the response the purple nails had to offer. The waitress was diligently still writing down the stream of dishes and sides with the practised ease of someone that had done it a thousand times.

What do you mean don’t panic? That’s the only thing to do when vampire looking ladies address you by name!

We already established that they are not vampires, love taped the red shoes That confirms my theory. These people know us, or at least a version of us. Jinkies, this must be a different dimension entirely for all we know. They started a meaningless conversation over the tapping, never letting go of one another for a second. Something about a new dress in need to be bought, new books in need to be read, new ropes for traps to be built. All while the food order glowed larger by the second.

Well, at least we can say we are not that different from us from this reality. We talked about traps, books on corrosives, mysteries and whatnot and she is yet to accuse us of being serial killers  the brown boots tapped their two cents.  

Which either means she is used to us or SHE is also a serial killer frantically tapped the lanky man. His fingers were the only visible indicator that he was one “I’m actually a killer waitress” away from bolting out of there and running his way across the ocean. It was a real trip to find out that, if frightened enough, Shaggy could run over large bodies of water as if he was sprinting in concrete. Useful. Made Fred question if he was dating Jesus for a while, but useful not the less. Especially when inside boats without motors and a monster coming behind you. Those arms really were stronger than they looked.

His voice was, however, as stable as a rock. Order after order, it never vacillated or lost its volume. For anyone watching without knowing him and the small ticks that betrayed his nervousness, it would appear as if it was just another day in the diner making the same order he did every day.

They were really proud of how good of an actor Shaggy was.

Finally, the order was made. The waitress and the surrounding patrons didn’t even blink at the size of it. A normal part of the routine. Daphne's nails were already working in overtime. The longer she stayed there, the creepier the feeling got. She may not be as good an actress as Shaggy (she still hade to convince a monster to dance the macarena after all) but her face and marble could as well be the same. She wanted a map or the book on the history of the town. Something tangible under her fingers for her to explore and dissect instead of this constant uncertainty of trying to act like your normal self in a place where your normal may as well be the farthest from the norm possible. The smile now plastered on her face was so far away from the anxiety consuming her heart that it should be carved on the moon.

Feeling her silent distress Fred squeezed her hand, a reassuring smile on his lips. He nodded towards the waitress, who had just finished her five pages long order turning towards her, an expectant look in her face.

"And you Daph? What's the order for today?"

Shag? the boots asked again while Daphne was placing her, in comparison, far smaller order. The boots owner was engaged in a discussion with the sweater-clad woman in front of him about the uses of cybernetic enhancements in a van and “How long do you think it will take for the van to gain sentience, Freddie?” "I'm not creating Skynet on my van, Velm" "Give it time"

Yeah? answered the long fingers, their owner now engaged in a conversation with their Great Dane about horror movies to watch later.

Do you have the mystery machine with you?

Frowning, the young chef removed his hand from the table, looking for the world as if he was going to search for something in his back pockets. After a minute of looking he removed a familiar key. Pressing the looking button, the gang collective turned their heads for the outside when the familiar beep made itself know. The daisy covered van parked on the front as if it was always there was shining on the sun, clashing phenomenally with the unicolored cars outside.

“Like, sorry Freddie. I, like, completely forgot about looking at the van” he gave the keys back to the blond, looking to the world as if he hadn’t just removed a whole car from the void. A good actor indeed.

“No problem, Shag” he took the keys, smiling while his boots worked overtime.

We are going to eat and act like this is just another day at the weird vampire diner. Then we are getting the hell out of here.

#Scooby Gang #us... but not quite #scooby doo #Shaggy Rogers #Fred Jones #daphne blake #Velma Dinkley #Gih Writes #Scooby doo crossovers #morse code #Wizard Shaggy #this boy works on cartoon logic and I'm going to take sooooo much advantage of that! #next chapter: Meeting the gang #wish me luck writing THAT #its probably to go like that new umbrella academy meme with the two siblings in different cars #*suprise pikachu face* #im going to enjoy that

[emilycollins00]

A3 actors! Stage for two

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Citron x Reader

Themes: Crushes / Entertainment

There were two noticeable things the workers from the shopping district of Veludo Way could say about Y/N with absolutely certainty; One, you would go out of your way to help anyone in need and two, you had a humongous crush on the extravagant and lovable Citron from Mankai. 

"Morning my dearest ladies! I have come to find the best products in the city" the young man arrived with his hands already full of bags, smiling at both you and your mother. Looks like it was his turn to do shopping although he pretty much spent his morning around the district anyway. 

"Oh, you flatterer" your mom scolded him but laughed delighted, visibly loving the words “What can we get for you today?” 

Even as you took out some new boxes from inside the store, and therefore only showing your back, you could still feel the heat in your cheeks spreading by the sound of his voice "Fufu, I see lovely Y/N at the store today!" 

You laughed nervously, not expecting to be noticed “M-morning, Citron!” you turned to greet him while wishing you had at least brought another shirt on this very hot day. It was only midday and you were already sweating. 

It had turned into a custom for some time now for the blond foreigner to visit the shops, becoming in no time the idol of the district. He was usually found helping the old owners and grandmas with heavy tasks or just chatting around with everyone. At times he even displayed some street acts which also helped attract clients. “So, do you have any performance for us today?”

"Ah, I’m afraid this time the tail of wonders will have to wait as I’m in a hurry for food”” 

"You meant a tale, didn’t you?" The owner of the bakery in front of your shop, a man in his fifties laughed noisy but genuinely "I swear… don't know how you can still make understandable sentences, boy" 

Citron smiled, placing one of his hands over his chest "Yes, the Japanese language is tricky Ookami-san! Perhaps I could reach you some tongue twister from my native country for a friendly competition” 

The old baker laughed again, not bothering to correct him "I'd like that! I'm sure we could have a good time"

"Here you go Citron-san" your mother called him as she handed you the big bag "I added a few products we just got this morning, enjoy them with everyone at Mankai" 

"You are too generous, ma’am. I’ll make sure everyone tastes the deliciousness you provided for us” 

“Her- uh, Here you go Citron” you looked up to see if he would take his order when you found him staring at you with a warm, gorgeous smile. 

“Honda-san just told me you went this morning to help her cleaning the store, yes?” you nodded shortly, mentally face palming yourself. Why did he always ended up knowing what were you doing? No, why did everyone decided they needed to play cupid for you? 

“Please do ask for me if you do again hard work. I will happily go with you” he kept talking earnestly. Your mouth opened and closed with no words coming out of it. You cursed your blank state of mind around him. 

“I, um will. Yes. I’ll call. You, I mean. Uh… Thanks”

“No, thank you, miss Y/N. Hope you have an enjoyable day” 

You both bowed, managing to exchange a normal farewell. As he left, you couldn’t help but stare longingly at his back. Once he wasn't visible anymore, you let out a brief sight. All the tension you had contained leaving your body. 

"Oh come on, Y/N, you should have at least asked him how was his day" 

"Mom!"

"Still becoming a mess when Citron appears in front of them, uh?" one of your usual clients, an old lady living not far, smiled sympathetically at your mother. A few other laughed agreeing with the comment.

"No man like that stays single for long, Y/N. Even I fell for his personality and looks after the first time I saw him" Ookami crossed his arms in serious thought.

You groaned frustrated "Could everyone stop talking as if I wasn't here, please?" you got comments like that every time Citron came. And he came by A LOT.

"We are just saying, honey" your mother cleaned her hands and put a hand on your shoulder "Citron-san is a wonderful man and you yourself are a lovely and reliable person. If you like him that much, you should try to ask him go somewhere together"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'd be delighted to go anywhere"

"Right, last time as he helped me carry the new furniture to my house he saw the Kokeshi Doll I bought in Kyoto for my grandchildren, and his eyes went wide"

“Ah, but Kyoto is too far, don’t you think?”

"Oh, that's right you went to visit your sister! How's she?"

Everyone finally seemed to leave the topic of your living crush behind, so you went on to prepare the orders of the new coming clients.

It was not as if you liked evolving into a tomato whenever you saw Citron. His gentle mannerisms and way of talking just marvelled you and you found too endearing whenever he misspoke a word and laughed at it rather than becoming frustrated. Before you knew it, every time you started talking with him you couldn’t even look directly at his eyes without making a fool of yourself.

Also, he was one of the most good-looking people you had seen.

                                      .......................………………….

Next day, Citron arrived earlier than he usually did. He had a bunch of posters so it was most likely they had a new performance approaching and everyone at the theatre started publiciting again.

“This is beautibul Citron-san! Which turn is it, Summer troupe right?” your mother took one and posted on the walk of the store “Those kids are genuily adorable”

He nodded proudly “Yes, Sakyo asked me to come and prepare a few acts while I was delivering our publicity. Also because I failed lottery for choosing pairs I was hoping I could find a another one for today’s act” he looked at you, awaiting for what you thought was a confirmation from your part.

Oh?

Oh, no. You laughed looking around for some hole to hide in. He couldn't POSSIBLY be asking you. Even Ookami-san would do a better job.

“Please Y/N, I am in real need of imittance”

Just how did this person come up with such complex words?! “…you mean assistance?”

“Yes, that is correct!” he walked behind you and push you in the middle of the street “Don’t worry, I’m a professional. We’ll have a very good time!”

“Please Citron, I-“

“Oh my, what a wonderful vision has appeared in my sight! If it’s not the goddess of my dreams!" his loud voice caught many casual strollers, stopping to take a look at what was going to happen. You on the other hand, wanted to be able to turn invisible. You couldn’t talk normally to him on a good day. How could you make a good acting partner?

"A street act?"

"Seems like it. Wanna watch?"

"Ey, he's a member of the Mankai theatre! I saw their last performance; they are crazy good!"

You stood there in silence, still not knowing what to do. Suddenly, the foreigner took both of your hands and leaned closer. Great, now besides wanting to turn invisible, you also started wishing your hands stopped sweating so much.

"Since the first time we met, your self has run through my mind day and night, I can’t stop these feelings anymore!” he let go of your hands as he opened his arms, going on a monologue that you tried to follow, but ultimately failed. You saw from the corner of your eye your mom and everyone else invested in the performance.

“…and so, will you do me honour of accompanying me tonight to a tour over the river, to enjoy the gazing of the stars together?"

Everyone's faces turned to you, waiting in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? "I, ah… yes, I’ll go to the river with you" 

“Thank you for granting this poor dreamer his wish. My eternal heart is to you” he kneeled and kissed the back of your hand.

 A few seconds later, Citron got up and bowed. Not surprisingly, the crowd burst in applauses. There were some who were even whistling. 

“That was amazing!”

“Oh god, how can someone be so charming!” 

True to many comments, one of the few times when the foreigner seemed to concentrate better on using words was on his performances. Of course, this one hadn’t been an exception. 

“Sweetie that was amazing!” your mother clapped her hands as she walked to you “Such a romantic act, Citron-san is a very good actor”

As some of the people from the district called you out trying to poke fun at you or just to say you did good, you looked at the other big gathering crowd were Citron was, at the moment, greeting and sharing posters. At one point, you both exchanged glanced, him winking at your direction. You blushed furiously. Just what had happened? 

After the multitude left, you heard the young man calling for you. The thumping you had managed to calm down started racing at full speed “So, Miss Y/N” he pronounced your name tenderly “I assume I could meet as we said for a walk over the river tonight?”

What?

"U-uh? Wasn’t that the…? I mean, you usually- Uh?"

"Every act we actors perform hides some truth or desire in it" he winked at you again. You wished he didn't. It wasn't good for your heart "I was hoping we could make it true"

You stopped working. Feeling his grey eyes still on you, you remember an answer was supposed to happen so you tried to nod, knowing if you opened your mouth something wrong would come out of it.

Citron blinded you with the biggest smile you had seen him "Wonderful! I hope picking you would be alright, yes?" you nodded again, still not saying a word. He laughed taking your hand, similar at how he had done in the street act "Then, until tonight arrives, lovely lady"

You didn't know how your legs didn't gave up before you walked inside your house. One thing was certain thought.

You were sure you had been picked up by a prince in disguise.

_________________________________________________________

I had so much fun writing this Citron oneshot. I feel like he doesn’t really have filtrer or at least, he doesn’t feel like using it most of the time but well, it’s hilarious I guess it’s okay. He’s indeed a key character in Mankai. 

Hope you guys liked it! Have a wonderful day!

#a3 #mankai a3! #act addict actors #a3 act #a3! act! addict! actors! #a3! imagines #reader insert #citron #spring troupe #citron x reader #oneshot #a3 game

[multiplefandomfics]

Change for the better

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC!Amelia

Warnings: cheating, angst, smut, swearing, sub/dom undertones, sir kink, size kink, unprotected sex

Words: 2169

Moving to London hadn’t been easy. Leaving friends, family and everything that had been familiar behind to start fresh. But it had been necessary. 

Let’s start a few weeks earlier, shall we?

“Darling? I’m home. I made it earlier than I thought. The surgery fell flat. Patient died before I could cut him open. Such a shame. Would have been a really cool surgery.” Amelia called through the two story townhouse. 

“Jake? Where are you?” she followed the music to the bedroom door and pushed it open. She stepped inside and heard giggling and laughter from the en suite bathroom. In that moment she knew exactly what was going on. Still she wanted to confirm it so she opened the halfway open bathroom door fully and there they were. Her fiance Jake and Amelia’s favorite scrub nurse Olive in the bathtub together. 

“Are you fucking serious? I work 15 hours everyday to finance your lazy ass and that’s how you thank me? Screwing my OR nurse? You are unbelievable, asshole!! I’m done with this- with us! I’m leaving.” she yelled furiously. She grabbed most of her clothes and other things, threw them in suitcases and duffel bags and crammed them into her car. 

“Baby wait!” Jake had stumbled out of the house behind her. “I’m sorry this was a one time thing. I love you. We are getting married in 6 weeks. Surly you don’t want to blow that off.” he tried to convince her.

“You think I still want to marry you after you fucked that little whore in my house? And that’s what it is by the way. MY house. I want you out by the end of the week you can leave the keys on the kitchen table. I never want to see you again. Goodbye Jake.” and with those words she had gotten into her car and left him standing there in his bathrobe.

She was seeing red and did not have a goal to reach. She did not want to see her parents because her mother was an arrogant bitch who only thought about what the neighbors would think about her breaking off the engagement. Her mother would probably make her marry the cheating bastard anyways. 

So she kept on driving. 16 hours and a ferry boat ride later and she arrived totally exhausted in London. She always wanted to see the town again and now was the time. 

She had found a hotel where she could park her car in a garage and went to check in. 

“Good morning. I’d like to check in please.” Amelia asked, friendly.

“Good morning. Of course. Do you have a reservation?” the desk clerk smiled broadly.

“No, unfortunately not. I came here spontaneously. Is that a problem?” 

“Not at all Miss. I just need your ID or Passport and Credit Card to check you in.” she kept on smiling so sickly sweet.

“Alright, sure. Here you go.” she handed her cards over. 

20 minutes later she had her car parked inside the garage, her stuff in her room and was face planting the bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up the sun was almost setting but she felt rested and decided to find a bar or pub to drink and maybe get laid.

She took a shower did her hair and make up and put on the hottest dress she could find before asking the desk clerk in the lobby for the closest and coolest bar around. 

Turned out that that pub was exactly 200 metres away from the hotel and was already relatively crowded at 9pm. 

Amelia found a stool at the bar top and got the attention of the bartender. 

“Hi what can I get you?” she asked.

“What can you recommend for a woman who has been cheated on by her fiance in her own house with her favorite co worker?” she sighed.

“Wow that sounds like a story I’d like to hear completely. You know what? I’m gonna mix you something and you spill your guts. You will feel much better afterwards, I promise you.” she had already grabbed a tall glass and was pouring various kinds of alcohol inside. 

The night progressed like that. Melissa, that was the bartender's name, handed her drink after drink but slipped a few shots of water in between once in a while. Which Amelia was too drunk to notice. They talked for hours. 

At around midnight someone sat down next to Amelia and ordered whiskey. Amelia had already sobered up a little and recognized the voice instantly. 

Her head snapped to the left and indeed there he sat- Superman- The Witcher himself: Henry Cavill.

“Holy crap, you’re Henry Cavill!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

“Yes I am. Nice to meet you.” he smiled warmly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I am Amelia and yes you can.” she turned her body now fully toward him. 

“You seem upset. Care to tell me?” he suddenly asked after chugging his drink.

“I have told this story already today. Melissa would you be so kind as to tell Mr. Cavill my shitty last 24 hours?” she almost begged the bartender.

“Of course my dear.” Melissa winked. 

“Well, long story short:her  fiance was an ass and cheated on her with a coworker in her own house. She left instantly and drove 16 hours straight through and came to London.” Then she walked over to another customer on the other side of the bar.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s a riddle to me how someone can cheat on a woman as beautiful and obviously intelligent as you. Such a shame. But maybe luck for me?” he winked and seemed very sure of himself. 

“I didn’t pick you out to be such a flirt. But I like it.” Amelia had nothing to lose. For the first time in ages she felt free and if that ended in her getting to sleep with the really hot actor which is Henry Cavill she would definitely go for it. 

They talked about this and that and by the time last call came around she knew so much more about Henry than magazines and the internet could have ever told her. 

“I’m sorry to break this up guys but you will have to leave now. It’s 6am and we are about to close.” Melissa came around the bar.

“Alright Mel, see you tomorrow maybe.” Henry said and tipped her generously.

Henry and Amelia walked through the streets. “You want some coffee? Sober up a bit more? Keep talking? I really enjoy talking with you.” he finished.

“Yes sure. You know a place not too far which is open?” Amelia smiled at him.

“Of course. It is 6am in London. I know the perfect Deli for breakfast and coffee. Let’s go.” he grabbed her hand and pulled her over the street and towards a brightly lit Deli. 

They both got inside, ordered coffee and sandwiches and sat down in the almost completely empty Diner. 

“These are really good.” Amelia pointed to her sub.

“I know, that’s why I like coming here after a night out.” he agreed.

Then Amelia’s phone rang. She took it out of her jacket pocket and groaned. 

“It’s him isn’t it?” he asked and she nodded annoyed. “Here, give me that phone. I’ll talk to him. He will leave you alone after this.” he smiled and she again had nothing to lose. 

“Hello. Amelia’s phone. She cannot come to the phone right now. She is very busy right now. Who I am. That is none of your business anymore. As far as I know, you cheated on her and she left you. So now she is free and can do whatever with whoever she wants. Goodbye douchebag and never call this number again. Oh yes, I am supposed to remind you that you have a week to move out.” with that he hung up and Amelia couldn’t stop herself from laughing so loudly other customers were starting to look.

“Thank you Henry. That was epic. But I think I’m still going to block him on all channels so he keeps away from me. And I wanted to marry that son of a bitch. How unbelievably stupid of me.” she buried her head in her hands. Suddenly her mood had changed dramatically.

“Hey.” he laid his hand on her cheek and forced her to look at him.

“Hey.” he repeated himself. “It is not your fault that he is a cheating bastard. You were working hard to support his ass and he did not appreciate that.”

“But maybe I should have taken more time with him. Maybe then he would not have cheated…” 

“Stop it! It is not your fault. It is exclusively his. Stop thinking about it. You dodged a bullet, beautiful.” 

“You are right. I should be grateful that he is gone.” she looked into his beautiful eyes and kissed him. She just jumped into cold water. 

“My hotel isn’t far. Wanna go?” she whispered against his lips. He nodded energetically. 

The walk there was quick. Only a few 100 metres stumbling, kissing over the sidewalk. 

“Which floor?” out of breath after the elevator doors had closed. 

“8th.”she mumbled. 

He grabbed the key card out of her hand and unlocked the door. 

She stumbled inside before him and he caught her before she could fall, carrying her to the bed. 

“Strip for me darling.” he demanded.

“Yes, sir!” she saluted at him 

“I like the sound of that.” he smirked naughtily.

She stripped obediently and waited for him to remove his clothes as well. But he didn’t budge. 

“Get on your knees!” he commanded. There was a quiet understanding between them. The question whether she was okay with this or not was only asked by his eyes and she obediently dropped to her knees. So he continued with opening his pants and pulling out his dick. “Now open up sweetheart and don’t you dare touch yourself.” his voice was stern but he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Amelia opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. He grabbed her hair into a ponytail and slowly pushed his length into her mouth and down her throat. She had to work hard to suppress her gag reflex. “Shit, babe. Fuck you’re a natural.” he groaned. It was music to her ears. She took him deep and stroked what couldn’t fit in her mouth with her hands. Bobbing her head up and down. Sometimes her throat constricted around his girth when she had to swallow which made him let out the most amazing noises.

Suddenly he pulled her off of her. “Stop! I don’t want it to end too soon.”

He pulled her up and kissed her deeply. “You are amazing. Now on the bed with you. On your back. Legs spread wide. I need some space.” he winked and again she obeyed.

She was so excited. Her juices were flowing freely down her thighs and ass cheeks. 

He kneeled between her legs and swiped his dick head through her folds. Catching on her clit ever so often. “Oh shit Henry. Please don’t tease me.” he smirked. “Beg for it then. Tell me what you want.” 

“Please, sir I need you so bad. I’m so wet for you, only for you. I need to feel you.” Before she could say anymore he lost his last bit of composure and pushed inside her.

“Damn! Holy- Fuck. So deep.” she moaned. His thrusts were hard and slow giving her the right amount of pain and pleasure. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head when she neared her end. She clawed her nails into his shoulders and was only able to moan a mixture of his name and curses. “Cum for me darling!” he whispered into her ear kissing down her neck and that was all it took for her to let go. Then he lost it too. 

When he had caught his breath he rolled off of her. “That was great!” she panted. 

“Yes, it was. We definitely need to do this again. Did I hurt you?” he suddenly asked concerned.

“Only in the best way possible. That was really hot.” 

That is essentially the story of how Amelia moved to London. She wanted to be close to her new future. She never heard from Jake again and after Henry had talked to him on the phone he had moved out really quickly. So Amelia could sell her house and get a position at a hospital in Britain's capital city. Even her mother shut up about the broken up engagement after Amelia had told her who her new boyfriend was. 

In the end, Amelia finding out about her stupid idiot of an ex-fiance cheating on her, was the best thing that could have happened to her. 

#cheating #angst #smut #HenryCavill #OFC

[gleekto]

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA,  and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Even Better Than the Real Thing (5/15)

Kurt is sitting at his desk, completing his essay on queer subtext in ‘Cats’ when Rachel rushes in the front door like a hurricane. “Please help me clean, Kurt. They’ll be here soon.”

“Who will be here when?” Kurt is immediately irritated. 

“You know, the cast, hair and make up, whomever can make it. I really felt that as the star of the show that I should be hosting a get together evening. I’ve got the wine, we can warm up some easy appetizers, cut some veggies. Oh and can you make your guacamole?-”

‘Wait what? Did you even think to ask me if tonight worked for me? My essay is due tomorrow.”

“I did-” Kurt stares at her. “I didn’t ask? I mean I thought I mentioned it last weekend.” 

Kurt sighs deeply. “You didn’t.”

“Okay I’m sorry. But come on, Kurt. I know your essay must be almost done. You never leave anything to the last minute-”

“Unlike some other people, apparently.” Kurt groans and shakes his head but begrudgingly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. “You clean. I’ll do the guac and veggies.” Rachel thanks him profusely and he shoos her away so he can get the food done. He will need to shower and change before anyone arrives. And clean his room. Because though he won’t ask Rachel who’s coming, he’s not going to risk Blaine Anderson thinking his home is a mess. 

...

By the time Kurt feels ready enough to enter the gathering from the safety of his bedroom, having carefully chosen a definitely flattering but not trying too hard outfit for the occasion - a skintight white long sleeved shirt under a dark grey vest with tight dark blue jeans - there are already a good ten guests in his living room, milling and drinking wine and laughing too loudly. But so far, no Blaine Anderson. He chats for a bit with Sarah and Joan, two of the hair and make up folks, and tries very hard to be interested in whose hair is the hardest to get consistently correct, and not to be distracted by who is not there.

“Rachel!” The door swings open about half an hour later and there he is, giving Rachel a big hug, handing her a bottle of red wine, and apologizing for being late. Kurt’s heart beat quickens slightly but he notices that he is not going into full on panic mode. They’re friends, buddies, and of course they’ll talk tonight. Yes, it’s Blaine Anderson and yes, he’s really very gorgeous, but it’s a bit more like hot gay friend has entered the premises and less like he’s holding his breath to catch a brief glimpse of Sing!’s most eligible bachelor. He can do this.

“You almost missed your chance,” Kurt wanders over and hands Blaine a Corona with lime. “It’s the last one but lucky for you, I set it aside.”

Blaine smiles widely, looking genuinely thankful  - Kurt thinks more appreciative than a saved beer would warrant. “You know my drink of choice?”

“Given that it’s all you’ve been drinking each time I’ve seen you - I guess I know your “drink of choice.” Kurt makes quotation marks with his fingers.

Blaine raises the bottle in a cheers-like gesture. “So this is your home,” Blaine takes in the apartment, looking at both Kurt and Rachel. 

“Two bedrooms, two bathrooms-” 

“That was a requirement,” Kurt adds. “I have a very particular nighttime skin routine and there was no way I was competing with Rachel Berry for the mirror.” Blaine laughs and keeps smiling at him with those sparkly eyes.  It’s unnerving.

“Kurt, why don’t you give him a mini-tour? I need to refill the Sangria bowl,” Rachel says, flitting off to the next thing.

“Why don’t you, then?” Blaine says. Kurt surveys the room. The apartment is not that big.

“Well, this is the living room slash kitchen slash main room.” I mean, Blaine can’t really think there is that much of a tour to take, but he’ll humour him. Kurt leads Blaine to Rachel’s unfortunately overly pink room and bathroom. “I couldn’t convince her that it was not a bold choice, but a bad choice.” Blaine’s eyebrows rise as he takes in light pink walls with splashes of bubble gum pink accents, and he laughs genuinely at Kurt’s commentary. Neither this tour, nor Kurt, are really that amusing but okay. Blaine Anderson is having fun. 

“I guess she really is a girly girl at heart,” Blaine says as he follows Kurt into his own room. Much more soothing, and more adult, shades of blues and greys, with some bold orange accent pillows on his bed for flare. 

“A girly girl can still have taste - and that room, Blaine, is too much pink.” 

“I dated a guy last year who had a pink room,” Blaine rolls his eyes at the memory as he sits down on Kurt’s bed. Okay. Guess they’re staying here for a bit.

“Just really proud?” Kurt pulls out his desk chair and faces Blaine.

“A proud gay guy can still have taste,” Blaine mimics, looking approvingly around Kurt’s room.

“Indeed.” There’s a brief pause and Kurt’s heart starts to race again, worried it might get awkward. “Wait - didn’t you say you couldn’t meet anyone while working on Sing!?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t stop me from trying. Or sort of trying while enjoying,” Blaine pauses. “The LA scenery.” 

Now Kurt laughs, shaking his head to himself. “Honestly, I can’t imagine having a life where there are so many options that they are all just part of the pretty scenery. Although I suppose Mr. Pink’s room didn’t qualify.”

“Mr. Pink,” Blaine pauses, looking like he is assessing whether he should say whatever is on the tip of his tongue. “Had a body to make up for the room,” Kurt’s eyes widen but he wills himself to play it cool. No big deal. Friends chatting about past relationships. “So we had a week of torrid sex and the rest is history.”

Kurt bites his lip. This image is too much. Blaine Anderson having torrid sex is too much. He knows he’s red. He just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Honestly, Blaine, I’m from Lima, Ohio and your life right now, it’s outside my mid-western frame of reference.”

Blaine chuckles again but he nods. Does he think Kurt is just hilariously innocent? “I know. You know, I don’t completely forget what it’s like to arrive in LA from small town Ohio. I’m only 24.  Did you ever get out to Columbus for any of the  LBGT youth dances or game nights? I used to do that. Even got my first kiss from a drunken college freshman behind the community centre. Very romantic.”

“Nope.” Kurt answers quickly. “Never went to Columbus. No dances or games. No kisses.” He’s embarrassed but what else was he going to say? Blaine’s suspicion of his innocence confirmed.

“No first kisses?” Blaine repeats and Kurt shakes his head quickly. 

“Why is that so hard to believe? I thought we already discussed that Lima is not exactly a gay mecca.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not. Lima would not exactly be the best place to meet someone.” Blaine agrees, shaking his head and looking down slightly before looking right back into Kurt’s eyes. “It’s just that,” Blaine breathes in, “You’re hot.”

What. The fuck. 

Great. Now the silence is going to be super painful because Kurt is certain no coherent words will come out of his mouth ever again. 

“Anyways,” Blaine bites his lower lip, shaking off his momentary slip of the tongue. “Thank you for the tour.” Kurt gets up to lead them back out to the others. “You’re one up on Mr. Pink.”

“For my decor? I hope so.” Kurt manages to speak words.

“In all areas,” Blaine says quietly from behind him and before Kurt can register the second less than subtle compliment in five minutes, and turn around, Blaine is back in the crowd, chatting with Joan and Sarah as if nothing could be more interesting than the perfect hair gel. As if he did not just say what he said. 

Kurt is done. For the night. Maybe forever. He’s sure he’s not capable of any more small talk with echoes of “You’re hot” and “In all areas” singing through his head. He quietly sneaks into his bedroom and closes the door. He may be innocent and even naive. But Blaine Anderson was most definitely flirting with him. He was honest, at least about his relationship past (or lack thereof), but Blaine didn’t run away. He stayed. And stared. And flirted. 

This situation is real. And very complicated. 

He needs to stop blogging. 

Out of respect for my source, who is a good friend, I need to stop posting on this blog. I will leave the blog up for all the fun gifs, and I may even be back to peruse on occasion. You know I will miss you all. Keep sing!ing, my friends -LimaBlaineFan

#gleekto writes #even better than the real thing #I will be putting up the first 5 parts as chapter one on AO3 today #I will reblog with that link once done

[deans-baby-momma]

Seeking Mercy-Chapter 7

Summary: How will Dean react to Y/N’s news?

Previously:

Dean’s grunts and groans echo off the walls of the bedroom, along with her moans and breathless cries. The bed springs start squeaking but neither of them pay any attention, both of them trying to reach their end.

“I’m close Dean,” Y/N whispers. “I’m going to cum. Cum with me baby. Cum inside me.”

“I. can’t.” Dean objects with each thrust. “You’ll. Get. Pregnant. Again. But fuck if I don’t want to. I love filling you up.”

“Too late, baby. I’m already pregnant again.”

Dean’s release is accompanied with a long drawn out groan until his body collapses onto her.

“What?” Dean asks, propping himself on his elbows, his softening member still lodged deep. “What did you say?”

Y/N looks up at her husband and smiles. 

“I said, it’s too late. I’m already pregnant again.”

She watches the emotions play out across Dean’s face. From confusion to stunned to surprise until he finally smiles a genuine smile down at her.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Holy fuck!” he exclaims. “How is that even possible?”

“Well, you see...when a man and woman fuck-”

Dean laughs as he pulls out of her and rolls to the side. “Fuck you. I know that how. But we’ve been careful.”

“No we haven’t,” Y/N reminds him. “The night after Cas healed you. We screwed like rabbits and you were bareback.”

“So that means, I knocked you up what, 6 or 7 weeks ago?”

“Give or take,” Y/N says as she turns onto her side to look at her husband. “Are you mad?”

“What? Hell no I’m not mad. I’m just- I’m in shock I think,” he says. “I mean I know we talked about having more kids but I always figured it’d be down the road a bit. Not before Mav was even a year old yet.”

Dean quickly turns and looks at her. “Are you okay? I didn’t--I didn’t hurt you did I? I didn’t fuck you too hard?”

“No, Dean. If you ask me you didn’t fuck me hard enough. But don’t worry. Me and the baby are just fine. I have an appointment tomorrow, if you want to go. I’m sure Dr. Porter and her nurses would love to see you again.”

“Yea, yea. Shut up!” Dean says playfully. “Of course I’ll go with you. Can we tell the others?”

“If you want.”

“If I want,” Dean repeats, mockingly. “Get your fine ass up and get dressed and let’s go tell the family.”

Seeing Dean gush about the news to his mom and brothers is more than Y/N could ever imagine. 

He’s so excited and happy to be adding another addition to the Winchester family.

Y/N is, at first, worried that Adam will spill the beans about already knowing, but being the good actor he is, the youngest Winchester feigns surprise and delight when told by his oldest brother.

That night, Mary whips up a batch of Winchester surprise and a cherry pie for dessert in celebration.

The festivities last late into the night, with Y/N sitting on Dean’s lap at one of the library tables while Sam and Mary look on; Adam already retired for the night, along with Mavelin.

“So, were you two trying? Or was this a ‘oops’ pregnancy?” Mary inquires.

Dean and Y/N look at one another before Y/N answers. “Definitely an ‘oops’. But when your husband is miraculously healed of paralysis, the last thing you think of is protection.”

“Oh god! I don’t even want to think about that,” Sam whines. “Oh great, now I have those images in my head.”

Dean chuckles. “I knew you fantasized about my ass.”

Y/N slaps Dean on the shoulder as Sam groans behind her. 

“Dean be nice to your brother,” Mary chastises.

“He started it,” Dean counters.

“Children,” Y/N says laughing and shaking her head.

Dean wraps his arms around her middle and smiles, “Nah just your baby daddy,” he says with a bright smile on his face before pulling her down to kiss her.

Y/N watches Dean when he doesn’t know she is looking. He is so happy and carefree and just bounces around like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

The doctor appointment confirms that Y/N is indeed pregnant and gives them a due date of near Dean’s own birthday. The fact that he may get to share a birthday with his child makes Dean ecstatic.

The doctor’s appointment also confirms what Y/N was afraid of. There is no definite date of conception. The doctor explains that she couldn’t exactly establish a DOC but with the size of the fetus, guesses that Y/N is about 10 weeks along. Y/N knows that 10 weeks ago Dean was still incapacitated and unable to produce an erection so it is doubtful he is the father. 

Thankfully, Dean has yet to come to that realization.

While helping Mary cook one evening later in the week, Dean comes into the kitchen and picks Y/N up, swinging her around.

“Hello my gorgeous baby momma,” he laughs.

“Hi,” Y/N responds. The fact that seeing Dean this light and happy is not lost on her. She is loving the new and improved man.

“How about tonight after dinner and we put Mav down, we take a drive?”

“Okay.”

The wind whistles through the windows of the Impala as Y/N and Dean speed down the highway; one of Dean’s old cassettes playing through the speakers.

Y/N’s hand is wrapped in his on the seat between them. Her free hand settled on her slightly pudgy stomach as she watches the scenery through the windshield. Her conscious begins to get the better of her.

Seeing Dean so damn happy and excited about the new baby was something she just was not expecting. When she had taken the test and it came back positive, she’d been worried how he would react, but this was not at all what she was anticipating.

Not that she was expecting a bad outcome, but happy, worry-free Dean was not in her wheelhouse of thinking. And now with her worst fears settled, it broke her heart to see him like this.

Looking over to her husband, she watches as he drives along, humming to whatever song is playing. She loves him so much her heart feels like it is about to burst. And she knows she is going to have to break his. She can’t take it anymore; the guilt, the shame is just too much.

Letting go of his hand and reaching to turn the music off, Y/N speaks up.

“Dean we need to talk. I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Pull over.”

Dean quickly finds a spot and pulls off the road, putting the car in park and killing the engine.

“Baby, what is it?” he implores.

Deciding to just bite the bullet, Y/N blurts out. “I slept with Adam.” The tears start immediately and she looks down at her lap.

“Wha--what?”

“I slept with Adam,” she repeats through the tears.

The silence in the Impala is deafening. Y/N can’t take her eyes off her hands in her lap. She is terrified to look at her husband, doesn’t want to see the pain and agony her confession has caused.

“You- you slept with my brother?”

She nods, not trusting her voice at all.

“Was it while I was hurt?”

Again she just nods.

Another bout of silence fills the car until she can’t take it anymore and feels as if she is suffocating.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Still not able to look at him, Y/N nervously awaits the eruption, the barrage of questioning. But they never come. Steeling herself, she glances over at Dean to see him sitting still, staring at the steering wheel. He looks completely devastated. She watches his eyes close and sees a lone tear glide down his cheek.

“So,” he finally speaks after clearing his throat and wiping away the moisture on his face. He never takes his eyes off the center of the wheel. “While I was unable to fully satisfy you, you fucked Adam?”

“Yea,” she answers meekly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Y/N inquires, unsure of that response.

“Yea, okay,” Dean affirms. “I wasn’t able to please you, you found it in my brother. I understand.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Deans says as he finally turns to look at her. “I get it. I do. You’ve always had a voracious sexual appetite. I know this and I couldn’t do for you what needed to be done. So you found it somewhere else. Am I happy about it? Abso-fucking-lutely not! Do I like the idea that my half-brother now knows what it feels like to be inside you? Hell no. But I get it. I do. And I love you enough to overlook it. Just as long as you swear it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t. I promise.”

“How many times did he-- no you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know,” Dean says, shaking his head.

“Listen, Y/N. I love you and I can’t imagine life without you and Mav. I don’t want to lose you. It would kill me,” Dean says and then stops. He glances down to her stomach and then back up to her eyes. “Is the baby his?”

“No,” she lies. “This is your baby, Dean.” 

When they get back to the Bunker later, Dean takes her hand and they approach Adam’s room. 

Adam takes forever to open the door after Dean knocks.

“We gotta talk,” Dean says as he shoulders his way into his half-brother’s room.

“Uh,” Adam says as he looks from Dean to Y/N and back to Dean. “What’s up?”

Y/n stays quiet but Dean leans against the edge of the desk in the corner, crossing his arms. He looks menacing and threatening. 

Dean clears his throat before speaking. “I know about you and Y/N. I know the two of you had sex. Look, I see it like this…..you did what I couldn’t while I was broken. But if you ever try to touch my wife like that again I’ll break your dick. Is that clear? I’m back, my dick works again so she doesn’t need yours. Got it?”

“Crystal.” Adam says and watches Dean leave his room. Y/N looks at him pleadingly before following behind her husband. Adam is stunned and frozen in his spot. ‘What the hell was that about?’ 

As Adam lays in bed and thinks about what his brother said, it dawns on him. Y/N must have told his brother that they fucked! But the way Dean talked about it was like it only happened once and while he was injured and unable to fulfill his husbandly duties. 

Did Y/N lie and tell Dean that? Did she lead him to believe that it only happened once after the accident? That it hadn’t been going on for months before he and the rest of the family were in a wreck.  Did Dean not know that as he was being wounded, his youngest brother had been buried ball’s deep in his wife? 

Adam closed his eyes, wondering why she had even told Dean. And did she tell him that he was possibly the father and not Dean? 

To say he got a lousy night of sleep was an understatement. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @squirrelnotsam​ @sandlee44​  @internationalmusicteacher​ @kricketc29​ @natura1phenomenon​ @blacktithe7​ @spnbaby-67​ @travelingriversideblues-x​  @keymology​ @tftumblin​ @markofdean79​ @thevelvetseries​ @deanwanddamons​ @winchester-fantasies​ @akshi8278​ @michellethetvaddict​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @hoboal87​ @atc74​ @maddiepants​ @delightfullykrispypeach​

#dean winchester #seeking mercy #Sam Winchester #adam milligan #mary winchester #reader insert #unplanned pregnancy #dean x reader #adam x reader #cheating #Smut #i wrote a case #made up monster

[aion-rsa]

Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’

https://ift.tt/35QzhQ6

The Ghosts creators have worked together for over a decade. To-date, the six-person team (Mat Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond) have written and performed in long-running children’s sketch comedy Horrible Histories, three series of fantasy sitcom Yonderland, feature film Bill, and two series of the supernatural BBC comedy Ghosts, with a third on the way. 

Channelling Mrs Merton asking Debbie McGee what first attracted her to the millionaire Paul Daniels, I ask Baynton and Howick via Zoom what inspired the group to write Ghosts, a sitcom about a group of individuals who frequently drive each other nuts, trapped together for what may well be eternity? 

Both laugh. “I’m sure we do drive each other nuts in many ways,” says Howick, “but the truth is, like the ghosts, what we always come back to in these episodes is that they love each other and don’t know what they would do without each other. I think that can be said for the group?” He looks to Baynton for confirmation and gets a happy nod. 

Considering the well-documented fallings-out and imploding egos of other comedy gangs – the Pythons not least among them – this level of harmony over such a long period feels remarkable. What’s their secret? “I think we keep each other honest,” says Baynton. “There are certainly heated debates.”

Heated’s too strong a word, says Howick. “We only really fight for our opinion, we never fight each other.” On the rare occasion that there isn’t unanimity about a particular topic, there might be a locking of horns and a democratic vote, but real arguments don’t happen. “There’s no animosity or jealousy with each other’s independent careers,” he explains. “We are our most important project. We have no desire to work each other up. We’re all genuinely fond of each other.”

That much is clear watching them interact. The online BBC press launch for series two was punctuated by the group making each other laugh. Silly voices. Running jokes. At one point, to the absolutely delight of his colleagues, Simon Farnaby’s crotch moved unavoidably front and centre as he stood up in front of his webcam to adjust a window blind. The rapport is real. 

Indeed, during UK lockdown, say Baynton and Howick, the group’s regular Zoom calls drafting Ghosts series three were a godsend. Aside from the boon of having regular work when so much of their industry was in uncertainty, being able to see friends for three hours on a Wednesday evening kept them sane. 

“It’s been a tonic in an otherwise relatively difficult and quite miserable time to have been able to jump on Zoom and make each other laugh with ideas for these characters that we love,” says Baynton. Entertainingly, when the group splits off into writing pairs, each does impressions of the absent characters while drafting dialogue. “It’s funny,” remarks Howick. ‘When we come together as a six, if we’re trying to pitch a positive idea, it’s usually done in a [segues into the regional accent of his upbeat character] Pat voice. Or if it’s a melodramatic idea or if it’s over-the-top, it might be a [Baynton’s Romantic poet character] Thomas voice.” 

Via video chat, it took a little longer for the group’s writing wheels to start turning. Ordinarily a new series would start with two weeks of the gang together in the same room. Stretching that to months of three-hour Zoom calls, fitted in amongst home schooling for the parents among them, was an adjustment. “The energy that you would bring to a room at 10 o’clock in the morning in an office wasn’t there,” says Howick. “You’d have to try and generate this feeling even though everyone was exhausted.”

Howick found himself seeking out frivolity to reach the right frame of mind. He played videogames. “If I sat and thought too hard about what was going on outside my door, it would make me really sad, and so in order to keep a vital part of me going, in order to meet with Mat and the others every Wednesday and keep that bright demeanour, it was good to do that.” The writing momentum started to return with the ease of lockdown, says Baynton. “The simple mental health-saving fact of being able to meet up with family in a garden helped a lot.” 

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Trying to write comedy against a such a serious backdrop of world events also felt uncomfortable, says Baynton. “You feel like it’s almost… immoral is too strong a word, but when there are nurses and doctors and teachers and crucially important people doing the work they do… It felt like an elephant in the room to be tap tap tapping away at a story about another day at Button House and what the ghosts are up to.”

It helped to know how warmly Ghosts series one had been received by its many fans. “What’s touching is when we do get messages from fans who say how much the show means to them. I know how important comedy has been to me in my life, so if we can be that to other people, it doesn’t feel completely frivolous.”

Ghosts, with its colourful selection box of characters (there’s a caveman, a headless Elizabethan, a 17th century witch, an excitable Regency woman-child, an Edwardian snob, a WWII captain, a 1980s scout leader and a 1990s Tory politician) may look frivolous, but series one had moments of real pathos. Baynton is proud of the fact that the series doesn’t shy away from the bleaker side of its ‘dead people’ premise. “If you really interrogate the truth of it – these are people who lived, people who died, people who loved or were thwarted or killed or suffered injustices or never got to love the person that they admired…”

The original idea was for a much bigger cast of ghosts, with everybody playing multiple parts, Horrible Histories-style. It quickly became clear that the story needed to home in on a small ensemble, giving the gang what Howick calls “its own silhouette”. Had they stuck with the original plan, “It would have been like The Muppet Show,” he says. “Every week would only have scratched the surface.” Too many ghost characters would have diminished the show’s emerging premise, says Baynton, which is about “being stuck forever in a tedious and endlessly repetitive existence.”

A bit like lockdown, we joke. Exactly, says Baynton. 

“We talk about this a lot. The way I see it is that their situation is just the same as a living person’s: they’re stuck, they’re in an existence they didn’t ask for, they don’t know why they’re there or what happens next. They know that there is a next ‘thing’ but whether they go to heaven, or hell, or something else, they don’t know. They’re just the same as people on earth.”

Howick agrees, “Their existence is very mortal in that respect.” 

Writing about the afterlife, a sense of existential metaphor is unavoidable, says Baynton. “There is something deeply relatable about it, which is where sitcom will always thrive. You can’t really fail to connect with a story about a person who doesn’t know what to do with their time or who feels stuck. Regardless of class or job or circumstance, that is all of us.”

If the ghost characters are all of us, they’re also peculiar to their time period. The collision and unexpected blending of different social contexts is where much of the series’ comedy comes from. Howick compares the composition of the group to Blackadder Goes Forth, which kept “ranks of characters from different classes stuck together in a hell hole, cheating death every single week.” 

The source of much of the comedy is thwarted status, says Baynton, “It’s the stuff of Alan Partridge and Hyacinth Bucket and Basil Fawlty… people who see themselves a certain way but who aren’t that way to the audience. Every single one of the ghosts is that to some extent. Anything that gave you status in life, you’re robbed of the second you die, so that’s already pretty funny in the sense of a captain who can’t lead, a wealthy woman who has no wealth, a politician who is not recognised as an authority, a poet who can’t pick up a pen, a Scoutmaster with no kids…”

“Not Scoutmaster!” interrupts Howick. “Adventure Club leader!” Before series one aired, they were instructed not to use the “Scouts” organisation name in scripts. “That was before they knew who Pat was going to be,” says Howick. Pat, for info, is a sweetie, and the Scouts should be proud to have him. He’s also a vibrant dancer, as series two, episode two shows. 

“There’s a lot of dancing this series” says Howick. “Without giving too much away, there’s dancing in the last episode. I think Thomas’ best dance is at the end.”

Fans can expect more playfulness with series two. Now that the characters are established and the tone has been taken to heart, the team could afford to experiment a little more. “With series two, because the audience hopefully are with us at this point, we can throw different curveballs,” says Baynton.

“In that way that The Simpsons or those long-running American things, you can suddenly do one in black and white, as if it’s a Hitchcock thing. We’ve definitely had fun. There’s an episode later in the second series which is a format of its own. We’re thinking about those things for series three, being free to be really playful with it.”

There’s a Christmas special episode to come, “the last one ever to be filmed!” joked Farnaby at the press launch. The timing on series two’s filming was especially jammy, with only one day lost to the UK TV and film industry shutdown in March. They made the decision not to use supporting artists in the last scenes filmed, set in a Medieval plague village. The irony of having to tell actors they couldn’t come and play plague victims because there was an actual plague wasn’t lost on them, says Baynton.

Thomas gets a gun in series two, they tease, and we’ll find out how he met his end. “The burning question for fans of the show is how the characters died, and you will find out some in each series,” says Baynton. “There are some we’re holding onto for as long as we possibly can, but rest assured, they’re coming!” 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Ghosts series 2 starts on BBC One at 8.30pm, with all six episodes available to stream afterwards on BBC iPlayer. 

The post Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2RKeoxw

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 160

Chapter Summary - Life continues for Danielle and Tom as the world processes their news, some good, some bad and some plain ugly.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Those who were interested in the life of celebrities and those that called themselves critics and/or fans of Tom erupted in joy, revulsion, despair, anguish, excitement and several other emotions at the news of the engagement. Twitter was awash with comments, both from well-wishers and begrudgers. Celebrities who worked with both Tom and Danielle wishing congratulations, as well as the behind the scene crews from both of their different projects. Rumours became rife, theories began immediately. As like several times before, Danielle was accused of being pregnant, that they had to rush down the aisle before the baby came, others that she had his testicles in a vice on something and she was forcing him to do it, then there was those who believed it genuine, posting pictures of them at the Infinity War premiere, him looking at her lovingly as she gave him a nervous glance, the film footage of them with the Cumberbatch's at the South Bank Sky Awards, smiling and looking at each other happily, picture of them from different times, all showing the same expressions, content and love of one another.

A lot of people discussed the situation with Taylor, how she would react, many saying she couldn't care less, others that she would be seething, people tried to analyse her latest movements as that could give an indication as to her thoughts on it. Everyone had an opinion it seemed, from the celebrity news to social media, all swooping on the story to see if they could get something more from it.

Luke kept Tom posted on the general consensus but for the most part, he simply responded to the friends and family that contacted him regarding the announcement and many wanting to know the date for the ceremony. He explained that it would be the following year and promised to keep them informed, noting that to include even just close friends and family would make it a notable sized affair.

For her part, Danielle was harassed/deafened by Nacelle screeching excitedly down the phone at her at the announcement of her news via Viber beforehand as well as being given more than a few congrats from her extended family, including a very excited Siobhan who informed her that Laura was delighted for her, but their mother had seen Danielle's announcement as a form of “one-upmanship” on her cousin and that she was going to try and embarrass Laura. Laura knew this was not true and that her cousin was actually in a longer relationship and had known her fiance longer, not to mention, Danielle would never embarrass Mattie and Bridget in such a manner. Instead of being upset, Laura was actually asking Danielle to check the cost of dresses she had seen online that were apparently cheaper in Britain, she confirmed that they were and two dresses for a one-year-old were bought and sent to Ireland for Caoilfhionn with a note from Danielle that they were “her treat”.

When Danielle went to her office to get her paperwork sorted, she was startled to see a large bouquet of flowers from her workmates and a bottle of champagne on her desk, as well a smiling face on Helena, Amelia's replacement as she had indeed been sent to the US office on her request with a glowing letter of recommendation from Danielle.

She dealt with her paperwork with considerable ease before dealing with the countless phone calls she had to make.

“Danielle, I see congratulations are in order.” Waters declared down the phone. “It’s somewhat peculiar to see my wife open a magazine and see you and your fiance at a premiere but to see it make the front cover of the damn thing, I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I mean, a partner in our firm, front page news.”

“You must be thrilled with the publicity.” She scoffed.

“Well, it's not exactly bad for Safeguard to have you and our business name always put together. But in all seriousness, I'm delighted for you and Tom, he seems to actually have his head screwed on, for an actor. And he's very much mad about you.”

“I find myself concerned as to what the two of you discussed while I was on the phone that day at lunch.”

“He simply made it clear we don't treat you right and that come hell or high water, he's choosing you over everything. Having worked with actors for the entirety of my career, I can honestly say, Danielle, you two are different to most.”

“Thank you, Lucas. Now about the situation on set you were talking about.”

*

After work, Danielle went to an appointment she made without telling Tom, knowing he would fret. She spoke to the physiotherapist regarding her shoulder and was instructed how to tend to it. Her shoulder was also put in kinesiology tape to aid it to recover. She knew Tom would see that so she sighed and thanked her physiotherapist before heading home.

When she arrived, there was a smell of cooking wafting through the house. The mud on Mac's paws as he came towards her to greet her caused her to pause and cock her head slightly before she walked forward. “Tom?”

“Out the back.” The playful laugh in his voice caught her attention. When she walked out, she found her eyebrow raise.

There, in the garden was a children's paddling pool and in it, splashing around like a lunatic was Bobby, yapping and jumping at a floating tennis ball excitedly.

“Hello.” Tom smiled, looking proudly at her. “Do you like my purchase for the boys?”

“Not as much as Bobby does.” She leant up and kissed him. “What made you get this?”

“They looked so miserable in the heat and I googled what people are doing to help their dogs in this crazy weather and it's quite common apparently. Mac sat in it for a minute but Bobby will not leave it.”

“Good, that's great. It's the first time he has went fifteen seconds without panting since this all started.”

“How was work?”

“Boring, paperwork and phone calls mostly, but a lovely bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne were waiting on my desk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and Lucas was congratulating us too on our phone call. Apparently, you're a sensible man….if such a thing exists.”

Tom growled playfully at her for her jestful comment. “How dare you. Here was I, making the beautiful lady a dinner and not only do you attack me but my entire gender.”

Danielle gave a slight noise and kissed him again. “I'm sorry, my sexy fiance. I am mean.”

Tom could not help smiling and looking at her hand to the antique ring he had placed there as a symbol of his love of her. “Well, when you call me that….”

Danielle laughed for a moment before leaning towards him and kissing him again. “I better get changed and put this paperwork away and after that, I can be all your again.”

“That sounds like a good deal to me.” He beamed and went back to the back door to ensure Bobby did not accidentally drown himself in his attempts to play with the ball.

Danielle returned to the kitchen shortly after and checked on the food to make sure the water was not running low. When she heard Tom walk up behind her and snake his arms around her waist, she smiled. “So, dare I ask the occasion?”

“Occasion?”

“You don't cook this unless you are in the best of moods, so what has you chirpy?”

A light chuckle passed Tom's lips. “You are so observant.”

“I know, it's sort of my job to be.”

“I am have completed my interviews with different women regarding the MeToo movement.”

“That's good, I mean, you know what I mean. How are you after it all?”

“It was exhausting just listening to them, so I find myself wondering how exhausted they are for talking about it and holding it.”

Danielle put her arms around his. “You are a strong man, Tom and you are so good to do this for these people.”

Tom pressed his lips to her shoulder for a moment before sliding his hands up and rubbing them. A moment later, Danielle hissed in pain and moved away. “What…?”

“My shoulder is a sore.”

“Oh, I'm sorry Darling. What happened?”

“Just a swollen muscle, it will be fine,” she dismissed.

Tom swallowed, worried about Danielle's health but knew better than to force his opinion, which was for her to step back from her training, on her. He watched as she moved the arm again and walked over to her backpack and removed the meals she had brought to work with her to keep to her diet and placed them by the sink. “You should consider going to a physio.”

“If it gets worse, I will,” she promised. “So what is your plan now, after everything with the movement?”

“I am not entirely sure, I will play it by ear. All I know is that it's opened my eyes to a lot, hearing how some women are treated, I was so blind to it all as a person. God knows what I never realised about those around me.”

Danielle nodded and mmhmm'd in agreement but unconsciously chewed the inside of her cheek as she washed out the empty containers.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 160 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

[sserpente]

It had been two months now since Loki had randomly crashed into your garden and into your life. The God of Mischief had landed right on top of your now destroyed salad plants. You would have been upset if, and now that was the odd part, you didn’t know that Loki wasn’t but most importantly one thing: namely fictional.

A/N: So many of you wanted Loki to end up with the Reader after he escapes with the Tesseract. Well, I decided to spice things up a bit. Besides, I got very inspired at the Prater in Vienna two weeks ago.

Words: 1946 Warnings: fluff, AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS

“Tell me again why we are doing this in the singeing heat?” Loki remarked sarcastically when you entered the amusement park. You let out a relieved breath, stepping into the shadow of the nearby information counter and pulled out two full water bottles from your rucksack, one of which you handed to Loki. He took it greedily, drinking up almost half of it right away.

You blinked, paralysed for a moment as you watched his thin lips closing around it. He was gulping so thirstily you could see his Adam’s apple bop with very sip. He really was outrageously handsome.

It had been two months now since Loki had randomly crashed into your garden and into your life. The God of Mischief had landed right on top of your now destroyed salad plants. You would have been upset if, and now that was the odd part, you didn’t know that Loki wasn’t but most importantly one thing: namely fictional.

It all made sense though, no? You had seen Avengers Endgame. Loki had snuffled the Tesseract and disappeared into a different dimension. And this dimension just so happened to be yours, in which the MCU was no more but a collection of fictional stories.

Naturally, the look on Loki’s face had been priceless when you told him things about his life not even Frigga knew… but eventually, he built something like trust. You were not quite sure whether it was the fact you had a Loki pillow you slept on every night or simply that you had told him that he was your favourite character and that you understood him in a way Thor never would. The latter you had said not only because it was the truth but also because he had intimidated and scared you a little when he first entered your house.

Then… you had ended up befriending him, a fictional character that happened to be not so fictional after all; and even… even beginning to fall in love with him. That was the confusing bit. Was he really? Real? What if you woke up one day and he had simply disappeared? While he had confirmed to you almost insulted he was indeed very real, another concern remained. What about Tom Hiddleston? They were technically the same person. Loki sure looked like him and he had been pretty amazed when you had told him about his actor’s existence.

Now here you were, introducing Loki to Midgardian life and fun activities so he could take his mind off things and until he had figured out what he’d do next. You dreaded the day he would leave you again, for you doubted he would consider taking you with him—so you enjoyed and cherished it for as long as it was going to last.

“We can go swimming after. But this is the last day the amusement park is in town. It’s fun, you’ll love it.”

“That is what you said when you made me try raw fish wrapped in dry seaweed.” He complained.

“Sushi. It’s called sushi. Come on, let’s go and do a rollercoaster first!” Excitedly, you pointed at one of the metal constructions. Loki slowly shook his head when he spotted it, watching one of the carriages go by with people inside screaming.

“Absolutely not. You go, I shall hold your bag for you.”

 -

But you tried. You really tried. Every ride you got on, you attempted to convince him to join you but Loki was stubborn. At some point, you even wondered if maybe he was afraid of heights but that he had almost rudely dismissed.

You were about to give up when you spotted the ghost train on the right hand side—eerie skeletons hanging out of broken windows and a pair of yellow glowing eyes looking through an open door leading to a pitch-black cabin… and a terrifying laughter coming from inside the haunted house.

Confidently, you reached for his hand and dragged him towards it. But Loki would not move an inch. Instead, his blue eyes were fixed on something else entirely. Confused, he tilted his head. There was a girl queuing up for one of those scary sling shot rides—nothing special about her, really. But one thing caught his attention. She was carrying a Loki backpack.

You doubted it would be a good idea for him to simply walk over and say hello—and even though you felt rather proud your words proved to be true and Loki indeed had an army in this dimension, you somehow wanted to have the God of Mischief all to yourself.

“A most peculiar piece of luggage.” Loki noted, studying the golden horns attached to the green backpack. “I rather like it. Not as much as your collection of ‘t-shirts’ but it pleases me. Just how…” He trailed off, making you frown.

“How what?”

Loki smirked. A bitter smirk, failing to hide the pain burning in his heart. “It still feels much unusual to have… genuine supporters.”

That it did and it broke your heart he felt such incredulity about it.

“You have no idea, Trickster. I’m gonna have to introduce you to Tumblr sometime…” You mumbled.

“Whatever that is…” He replied, turning back to you as if he wanted to forget his thoughts and concerns. “What next?”

“Will you at least do the ghost train with me?” You asked, pointing at the haunted house.

“Define that.”

“You sit in a carriage that’s slowly moving in the dark and there’s creepy things installed jumping out to scare you.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Pretty please? We can get some candy after.” You tempted him. Loki raised his brows. Now you had him. He really was a sweet tooth, this much you had found out already. His favourite was chocolate of course—all kinds of it, really. But you were dying to introduce him to candy floss. Besides, if you got him to join you on the ghost train, you had a legal excuse to cuddle up against him and hide your face in his chest.

Loki sighed. “Very well. But if I am going to regret this, you will pay the price, little mortal.” You knew he was joking. The playful tone in his voice made your heart jump and your knickers grow wet. Swallowing thickly, you approached the counter of the ghost train and purchased two tickets.

Only a few moments later you were both sat in one of the carriages. You jumped when it started to move inside the haunted house with a loud rumbling—and it was then you wrapped your arms around Loki’s middle already.

It was the first time he allowed this much body contact. Loki craved the attention, yet still acted very restrained around you. He chuckled when the first ‘monster’ jumped out from the dark and made you squeal.

“They are puppets.” He stated after two more jumpscares he was seemingly very unimpressed with. “Harmless puppets, darling.” Darling. That nickname alone had been worth it to persuade Loki to do this with you. And then, suddenly… you felt his arm around you, pulling even closer. Never before had you felt this protected and safe.

You were almost disappointed when the ride was over and you both had to climb out of the carriage again once you returned to proper daylight.

“If you are so scared of ghost trains, then why do you pay money for them?”

You shrugged. “That’s the point, really. It’s funny to get scared because you know it’s not real and then you laugh after. It’s fun.”

“Strange little mortal.” He teased playfully. “Now… as for my candy?”

You grinned. “Have you ever heard of candy floss?” Loki shook his head slowly. “It’s… well, you’ll see.”

Excited, you returned to the market stands, one of which also sold candy floss. His eyes soon widened when he spotted the fluffy clouds on sticks displayed in different colours of the rainbow.

“Which colour?”

“Green.”

“I thought so. The flavour will be green apple, is that alright?”

He nodded. Fascinated, he watched how the lady behind the counter made a fresh one for him after you paid her and finally, handed it to him. Greedily, he took it and dug his fingers into the soft sugar mixture. Only the blinking of an eye later, he had already shoved some of it into his mouth.

“So?” You asked with a smirk, reaching for the candy floss to taste it yourself.

“It melts on the tongue… delicious.” And he ate the whole thing in almost no time, throwing the wooden stick into a nearby bin. Well… he was a God. You chuckled.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You only wished he would look at you this longingly.

Maybe one more ride now and then you would take him swimming… it was still boiling hot and you feared you’d come down with a sunburn if you didn’t take a break soon to apply some sunscreen.

“Is that…” Once again, Loki stopped. This time, in front of another stand. A colourful one, with a striped roof reminding you of the circus. Inside, there countless plush toys waiting to be won. Your gaze followed his, causing you to gasp.

“Plush toys! Yes! Of the Avengers! Oh my God… look, they’re so cute! And so big! I want one!”

Loki rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, go and get one then.”

“You can’t buy them, you have to win them by playing the game. I’ll ask if he has a Loki plush toy, too, though.”

“Please…” Loki couldn’t quite decide if he should chuckle or roll his eyes again. He settled for both when you approached the owner of the stand.

“Oh yes!” He heard him say. “You’re lucky. There’s only one left, the Loki ones sell out quickly. But it’s one of the big prizes. You’d have to hit all of the targets to get it.”

Amused, Loki eyed the stand. That was all? Hitting five targets with soft balls? He could do that blindfolded.

“We shall try our luck then,” He tossed in, earning him a bewildered glare from the stand owner. With a little luck he would only think Loki was a really accurate cosplayer. Or he simply didn’t care. Or he hadn’t seen the Marvel movies himself.

Smirking, Loki handed him a fiver from the stack of ‘Midgardian money’, as he called it, and which he seemed to keep in his magical pockets you did not understand the concept of, and confidently reached for the balls in the bowl on the counter. Then, he aimed.

You watched, flabbergasted, amused by his sudden change of heart and somewhat turned on at the very same time as he took no more than forty seconds to get the job done, his muscles flexing in the process. Was it weird you wanted to lick that pale neck? Probably. But probably not.

“Now. The prize?” He mused proudly. You grinned. You doubted that the stand owner had any idea of what had just happened. Grumpily, he hand you the Loki push toy, mumbling something that did not at all sound like “congrats” but more like “fuckers”. You simply ignored him and instead stood on your toes to press a gentle kiss on Loki’s cheek before you took the plush toy with a happy squeal, pressing it to your chest firmly.

“Thank you, Trickster.” Loki smirked in response and winked cheekily.

“You know, as much as I enjoy it, I don’t think I shall ever get used to Midgardians losing their minds over my… what did you call it? ‘Fanmerch’. So… are we going swimming now?”

You giggled, leaning into him. “You really earned it.”

-

A/N: What do you think of this concept, guys? Of Loki being in ‘our’ dimension? Likey? I honestly think I could have a lot of fun with that in the future.

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson fluff #the avengers #the avengers imagine #thor #thor imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #avengers endgame #avengers endgame imagine #avengers endgame spoilers #endgame spoilers #loki spoilers #spoilers #tom hiddleston

[squinoas]

Final Fantasy VII: Remake is both a blessing and a curse, to newcomers and series veterans alike - a (kinda) in-depth review of Final Fantasy VII: Remake.

Final Fantasy VII: Remake is both a blessing and a curse, to newcomers and series veterans alike.

As the latter, and someone who has played and enjoyed (and watched, in the case of Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children), most of the compilation that followed the original, I feel confident in saying this game is a worthy remake of the standout hit that put Final Fantasy on the radar of the Western audience. The blessing is an imaginative and fleshed out retelling of a fraction of an original thirty-hour story – stretching it out and giving backstory to returning characters, while introducing some fresh (and welcome) faces along the way. The Midgar section in the beginning of the original Final Fantasy VII clocks in at around 3-4 hours of a player’s overall journey.

Not this time.

But is that also the aforementioned curse of this game? That those players who have enjoyed the original many, many times know of what it still to come? Throughout my play through of the game this felt like it was going to be its main detractor, when actually the ending completely throws this into the air.

Only time will tell if this is a good decision that will pay off, or if it will backfire. Nevetheless, I’m optimistic that the best is yet to come.

How long will we have to wait for more? That’s anyone’s guess at this point, especially with the Coronavirus situation. Safety comes first, and any delays to the second and third parts of this episodic epic (and I hope it continues to be epic) will be understandable – and hopefully, much like this first part, well worth the wait.

GAMEPLAY (COMBAT, MATERIA, WEAPONS)

Much furore has been made about the series ditching a turn-based system – one still employed by Dragon Quest (another Square-Enix property, and the most recent instalment, Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age, one of, if not my favourite, recent JRPGs).

Final Fantasy now employs an action-based model, more akin to another property, Kingdom Hearts.

Sometimes erratic and frenzied in 2016’s Final Fantasy XV, I’m happy to say that Square-Enix appeared to fine tune most of the aspects I disliked about that game’s playstyle and the result is Final Fantasy VII: Remake’s fun gameplay.

Keeping the ATB gauge involved was a good move, and gave the game a familiarity. The oscillating difficulties mean that there is a playstyle for everyone to find. I managed the entire game on normal mode (even my first time fighting the Whispers), until the Sephiroth boss battle. I have my own narrative issues with us fighting Sephiroth in the first part of this game anyway, but the difficulty spike in this battle on Normal mode felt unreal. I’d managed the slog that was the Hell House boss battle, and the annoyance of the escape from Shinra section, including that boss battle, but this was another level, and the only boss I had to change to easy mode for (which meant redoing the Whispers fight on that mode too).

On the other hand, there were bosses where, understanding their attack patterns and developing a strategy meant that winning the fight felt genuinely rewarding, as opposed to just time and energy-draining. An example of this was the Ghoul fought in the Train Graveyard – a new inclusion, and a whole strand of story that I enjoyed immensely. That battle really made use of switching between party members – Cloud and Tifa taking the lead in physical attacks and Aerith using her magic whenever necessary.

Materia has been updated, but not massively. Rather than a huge overhaul of the system, it still works largely how it did before. It’s been adapted for an action-JRPG but still comes down to strategy. However, an option to change materia mid-fight might have been prudent, considering the variety of enemy weaknesses. I found myself having to restart more than one fight because a batch of enemy scrolled through at least three different weaknesses and I was never adequately prepared for them at first. But at least restarting these fights was easy and hassle-free.

I liked the additions of new materia; such as Synergy which is another way to control what your other party members do in a fight, and the Magnify materia which works like the All materia of the original game. It made finding new materia fun and fresh, and meant I was constantly changing up my strategies to see what worked best.

The weapons system has been changed significantly, however. The upgrade screen looks stylistically like the crystarium from Final Fantasy XIII and the Historia Crux from Final Fantasy XIII-2. Therefore, it looks interesting, but is actually kind of boring when it comes to upgrading weapons. I ended up letting the computer upgrade my weapons with the balanced option, and this was a cool feature for people like me who found the task of upgrading tedious; especially when having to click out of each character’s weapons to only click into another one.

But the abilities that came with the weapons and having to develop a proficiency for these abilities was a nice addition. The only time I felt hindered by this was when Barret had to learn an ability on a close combat weapon. I like the fidelity to the original, but at the same time it was a handicap. Of course this is probably my own problem as I could have chosen not to use those weapons, something I may not do in a second playthrough.

Nonetheless, I felt like it encouraged me to play as every party member, and some were just downright cool. Special mention has to go out to Aerith’s Ray of Judgement, and Barret’s Maximum Fury which are so OP it isn’t even funny.

STORY (CHARACTERS, PLOT, ADDITIONS)

The original Final Fantasy VII is well known for the infamous ship wars. Clerith vs Cloti has been the ongoing debate for the past twenty years, and I don’t think this game is going to convince anyone that their side is right or wrong. It’s still left open to interpretation, at least in my opinion, and perhaps this was the best way to keep everyone satisfied. However, the game adds the additional element of having Aerith confirm that she did indeed love Zack Fair, the main protagonist and her love interest in Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core. As a ‘Zerith’ and ‘Cloti’ shipper myself, this game gave me plenty of moments to love for both couples. As someone who does have a liking for Clerith and Aerti, it kept me more than fed.

I have to give kudos to those involved with the game that they stayed true to the very canon interpretation that Aerith and Tifa are friends, and always were. True, they both expressed some small mote of jealously in the original game (and, at times, in this one too), but it quickly becomes obvious that they are both strong-willed young women who admire each other greatly. There are great examples of their burgeoning friendship but my favourites have to be kicking the lecherous asses of Don Corneo’s lackeys, and discussing a shopping trip for stuff for the bar.

All in all, the characters are kept true to their original incarnations. If anything, they – as with everything else in this game – are given to breath and work through things organically. They are fleshed out, and given further backstories, motivations and plot. I think this was best done with the doomed member of AVALANCHE, Jessie. She’s given a last name which, to begin with, makes her feel less like an ancillary plot device and more a character in her own right. To add to this, we meet her mother and father; which absolutely tugged at my heartstrings, what with her father’s tragic accident leaving him in a comatose state. We find out Jessie wanted to be an actress and was working at the Gold Saucer (this also works as a nice nod to places we know exist in-universe but will not visit until a later instalment).

Marle, Leslie, Madam M, Andrea Rhodes – every Chocobo Sam – are all fantastic additions, and I hope we see them again. In particular I would love to see Leslie reunited with his lost love in a future game.

Now, in terms of the story, I have played the original inside and out for many years, and always thought I would be against changes made to the story. Throughout most of the game most of these additions are simply changes that just make things more interesting for someone like me who’s played the original before. Towards the end, however, things take a drastic turn, and turn everything we’ve known on its head. As I said before, I have no idea where this is going to go in the next part, and there were some aspects that left me scratching my head.

The main of these being Zack. As far as anyone who has played the original or Crisis Core will know, Zack died in a last stand against the Shinra corps sent after him and Cloud after their break out from Nibelheim. However, the ending raises some interesting questions. At first I thought us defeating the Whispers had rewritten Zack’s fate, but maybe that’s not the case. Nevertheless, it will be interesting to see where they take it (one change I did not like was Zack’s voice actor. I know all the English VAs were changed – which I wasn’t a big fan of in the first place – but the new voice actor does not sound good compared to Rick Gomez).

Overall, our characters end the game in more or less the same position as the end of the Midgar section of the original, but after the events of the battles with the Whispers it appears that certain events that would have been due to happen (the original ending with Red XIII, Aerith’s death, etc) may not happen at all – or at least, not in the way we think.

#GUESS WHO FINISHED THE GAME THIS MORNING SUCKAS #this girl #this post contains spoilers so do not go any further if you haven't finished the game #it's not really that in-depth but i was trying something new #it got kinda long tho #and a lot of this was written before i finished the game #if you guys want to know my opinion on anything i've missed out just send me a message #and yes this means the hiatus is OVER #gifs are incoming #everything will be tagged #ffviir spoilers #for at least the next few months #text post

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue, chapter 16

It was exactly seven-thirty the next morning when the Hawkcroft dining room seemed to come to life. Sitting at the table were Emmanuel himself with his family –that is, Avelle & Louis, his children- Louis’s wife Katherine, his lawyer Armellon, Bertraug the medic and Saufinril as a guest. Servants came from the kitchen serving oatmeal toppled with fresh berries and honey, hot chocolate, three different kinds of cheese, sliced loaves of bread, jams and jellies, tea, thin slices of uncooked ham, butter, sliced apples sprinkled with cinnamon and eggs in a hot skillet, ready to be served to the plate.

Despite feeling the cold, persistent glances of Armellon, who was seated in front of him, Saufinril just focused on his oatmeal and tea, not making eye contact with Toivon as he served Bertraug’s coffee. Avelle chatted excitedly with her father about the Masquerade, her shrill, excited voice almost drowning any chance to have a conversation with anyone else.

“…white roses, and oh father we could have them as decorations on the windows and arches and we’ll have to call Paurdis for the entertainment, I have so many ideas and monsieur Cyremin is here to help me with it.” Saufinril shot a polite smile as Avelle went on, “He has a divine eye for aesthetics and if we combined things from the Isles it’d work splendorously for the Masquerade, he’s helping me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Saufinril saw Armellon narrow his eyes at him, so all he did was take his tea and take a sip of it. Armellon himself took his cup, muttered something along the lines of “courtesan helping” in Altmeris, and took a sip.

“So, Monsieur Cyremin.” Katherine said, turning to Saufinril and away from her sister-in-law, “That robe you wore to the party was simply beautiful. Was that Valenwood silk?”

Armellon placed his teacup down, eyes on Saufinril. Saufinril smiled pleasantly.

“It is, yes. Imported, of course.” He replied

“Marvellous.” She said, “As were the hair brooches.”

“Indeed. Were those from Valenwood too?” Armellon asked, in that perfect, natural face of genuine interest that was just a mask for something else, so common in the Isles.

“Some were, yes.” Saufinril replied, raising his teacup, “Others are handcrafted from the Isles. One is surprised you didn’t recognize the artmanship.” Saufinril winked discreetly at Armellon, who looked equal parts troubled and angry.

“Well, it has been a while since one’s been in the Isles.” Armellon commented, still keeping a narrowed eye on Saufinril.

“Very in vogue.” Luckily for Saufinril, Katherine had been more keen on giving one of the servants, a sickly ginger woman, a hard look and watching her until she served her more tea, “Did you arrive long ago to Evermor, monsieur?”

“A mere day, maybe. It was by sheer luck that one heard of the event held here.”

“Really?” Armellon asked, tilting his head, having Saufinril’s answer caught his interest, “A mere day and you already found your way into an exclusive party.”  Saufinril shrugged and smiled coyly while internally he cussed the lawyer with all his might, “the Divines work hard but you work harder.”

“Stop, you are flattering one, serah.” Saufinril said

“One just has to ask, how did you hear of it?” Armellon inquired, pretending an innocent curiosity. The internal cussing went harder. Toivon glanced at Saufinril.

“Well, one was at an event when that handsome actor –one can’t recall his name- invited one to the party. He said he’d been invited and asked for one’s services in the manor. Naturally, one first had to wrap up in the prior event but when one arrived, he introduced one to monsieur Emmanuel. And the rest is history, as some would say, hmm?” he directed a smile to Katherine, who tried to suppress her own. Armellon just gave him an unreadable expression and went back to his tea. Toivon quietly exhaled.

 Once every person left the dinner table, Toivon and the rest of the servants started to clear the table’s empty plates and untouched food and taking it through the servant door, down the stairs and to the kitchen.

“I’d never seen an Altmer younger than monsieur Armellon.” The teenage boy behind Toivon suddenly said

“Really?” Toivon asked, making conversation.

“Yeah! I thought they were all…old.”

Toivon chuckled.

“I thought he was young looking, too.” The woman ahead commented, “Do you think monsieur Armellon knows him?”

“Why would he?”

“Well, they’re both Altmer.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“I don’t think they do.” Toivon said, holding back the eye roll.

“But monsieur Armellon was looking at him a lot.” Piped in the boy

“No he wasn’t.”

“He was too! Through the whole breakfast he was.” The boy grabbed one of the slices of ham and ate it, continuing, “You saw him almost buttering his hand because he was too busy looking at him.”

Toivon didn’t reply. He’d seen the Altmer at the first break-in and later at the breakfast, but he’d been tranquil knowing that Saufinril could bullshit his way through his own culture. But this kid raised the important point of what if they knew each other. Recalling the breakfast, he did realize Saufinril hadn’t looked at the lawyer a whole lot, focusing more on Avelle and Emmanuel. He was going to ask him the first chance he had.

“I’d never seen him around Evermor before.” The woman commented, using her back to push the door to the kitchen open.

“Me either.” The boy replied, eating more ham.

“Can’t say, don’t care.” Toivon replied, putting the dishes where they would be washed. When he turned around to go back out, he almost ran into the sickly ginger woman.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, eyes never off the ground. She skirted around the Dunmer, placed the dishes, and walked back out the kitchen in a hurry.

 Armellon gallantly offered to escort Saufinril to the Marigold. And of course as Cyremin, Saufinril smiled brightly and made a remark about Armellon following him to his quarters that earned him a glare from the lawyer. Within himself, however, he had to roll his eyes. This stupid lawyer suspected something. They rode in silence, apart from the other, until the Marigold’s rose gold roof came to view.

“Here’s one stop.” Saufinril turned to the lawyer, “As unnecessary as this trip was-”

“One is going in with you.”

“Serah. One was jesting back in the manor. Surely, you know how unprofessional it is for one to take one’s clients to one’s bedr-”

“Where is your escort?” the older Altmer asked, eyes set on Saufinril, who got quiet, “Your Mother, or Older Brother or Sister? Hm? You are too young to be in the continent by yourself. Are you telling one you have a room in The Marigold, all by yourself, the same night you arrived? With what money?”

Saufinril bit his lower lip and looked down. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

“The new regime is,” he softened his voice on purpose, letting his face fall away from the smug smile he’d adopted for his character, “Everything is under their control now. And…” He fiddled with the hem of the sleeve, “One’s Sisters are still in the Isles. One is just being a diplomat, under their, ah, suggestion.”

A heavy silence fell on the carriage, both Altmer unwilling to voice the Thalmor out loud, but knowing otherwise.

“Did they give you a permit of pass?” Armellon asked. Saufinril nodded.

“It’s in one’s room. One usually carries it with one but this morning one forgot it. One obviously can’t bring it out to you now, one has a commitment.” Saufinril returned to his character, giving Armellon a smile, “Unless you wish to come with one?”

“One has other commitments too.” Armellon said, not amused by Saufinril’s coy smile but admittedly less harsh than before. The older the mer, the softer the heart.

“How disheartening to one.” Saufinril opened the door and began to get out.

“If the appointment is so important,” Armellon asked as Saufinril got out, “why not just go there straight from the manor?”

Saufinril turned to Armellon, posing a face of full offense, “And repeat an outfit?” he asked almost indignantly. He closed the carriage door and walked to the Marigold.

 In the bedroom, he closed the door behind himself and let out air from his mouth, relieved to not have to act like a self-absorbed, frivolous, charming, flirty mer and contenting himself with the silence. He sat in the bed and started to remove everything in his hair, tied it back in the ponytail and then pulled out the paper he’d seen on the drawers of the rich mahogany desk and set it down. He found the ink and quill after searching around, in the lower cabinet of the bookcase, and didn’t bother sitting down while writing:

 Serah & Rialas,

One hopes this message gets to you in good health and spirits. One sends you this letter to let you both know one is alive, free and in good health. There was a hiccup in the heist and one will have to stay for longer until we get what we came here for. One will keep in contact with you. Rest assured that if anything harmful were to happen, one will get out of it and come back to Valenwood as soon as possible. Any response confirming one that you are both well or, in the event it were not so, telling one of the happenings of your lives, will be awaited by one.

Yours sincerely,

Saufinril

 It was once that the ink dried that Saufinril used the familiar, comforting pulse of humming magic to summon a creature. Saufinril gave it the instructions of where to deliver it, and the creature disappeared, heading to the Den.

#btb #behind the blue #the lawyer is still suspicious #sau is dodging bullets like a motherfucker #toivon is dodging that radar too #gotta let the parentals know I didn't get trafficked #smh #then they're complaining about headaches and stress #smhhh YOU give yourselves headaches I;m fine #jeeze #they're gonna get high blood pressure at this point #smh smh

[teresaneele]

Summary: On top of a depressive episode, Ben and you break up. Still caring for you, he wants to help you to get better. And maybe there’s even a second chance for you? Word count: ~2k Warnings: Angst, depression, tiny mention of something that could be read as (possible) self-harm, break up A/N: I don’t even know what this is. The last week had me dealing with depression. So this is a therapeutic piece of writing first and an imagine second (which kinda explains the abrupt ending). It’s also the most personal thing I’ve ever published and probably ever will publish. And once again, although this has some humour in it if you squint, this is pretty angsty, so please be careful. And to anyone who knows the feeling of depression - I’m proud of you, if that counts for something. (Title is a lyric from “Without You” by Annaca ft Ursine Vulpine, they make beautiful music, go listen to them later) Comments/reblogs/any kind of feedback are of course always much appreciated!

You still have no idea why exactly it had happened.

The depression had hit you a few days ago, out of nowhere. Having been dating for a while, Ben had known immediately what was happening with you. And granted – it maybe hadn't been fair of you to say “I love you“ for the first time, being in that state. But you had been just so thankful for him caring about you and as your depression shouldn't dictate his timing of living, it shouldn't dictate your timing of living as well. Which was why you hadn't thought twice about it. He surely would have gotten the hints anway, wouldn't he? You had been completely unaware of the fact that this would lead to the end. That it would lead to him not saying anything for a moment. Until he had given a speech about how you meant a lot to him, how you really did and how much he cared for you. But not like you wanted him to. Not like you cared for him. You had had no idea that those three little words would lead to you asking him what went wrong. If he was panicking, because it had been too much at once. If he was thinking that it wouldn't work out because of the distance that obviously was there because of his job. Ben had replied how sorry he was. And that despite him being an actor he knew that there weren't such things as Hollywood endings. That you were just at different places in your relationship and it would be an unnecessary risk to keep going. To try and make the walls he had built around him coming down. He had asked you if you still wanted him in your life. You know he had phrased it that way because he had been avoiding the term “friends“, which you wouldn't have wanted to hear. “Of course I want you in my life,“ you had replied, giving him one last hug before watching him leave. It's only the next day when you're discussing your depression via a video chat. A stupid idea you both had together. As if seeing the other person suffering would magically solve all problems in the world.

“I'm sorry I'm letting you go through this,“ you say. “I shouldn't bother you with this, I don't even know what's wrong with me, like yes – what happened between us is part of this, but it feels like it's only the last nail in the coffin, you know? But it's...I don't know. All I do know is that I'm making you unhappy with this, I'm sorry. I'm so sor-“

- “Stop,“ he interrupts you. “Don't apologize for talking to me. Don't apologize for being who you are. I know I can't cure you and you know it too, but if me talking to you is helping even in the tiniest way, I'll gladly do it. You know I love you. I love you so much, just not in the way...not in the way...“

“The way I want you to love me. Got that, Ben.“ It should have been more obvious that the conversation would lead this way. You have to hold yourself back from lifting up your hand, trying to wipe away the tears from his face. The cold screen of your computer is all you would touch anyway.

- “It's unfair,“ he whispers.

“That's what feelings are,“ you reply.

- “Maybe in the next life?“ He suggests.

“Maybe then, yes,“ you confirm.

- “I really wish I could love you the way I should. The way you love me. You know that, right?“

All you manage to give as a reply, is a short nod. Silence falls over you. You're looking everywhere, just not at the screen in front of you, unaware of the fact that Ben is doing exactly the same thing. He's not able to see you being hurt any longer, just as you aren't able to see him that way. The time that passes feels like an eternity, until you finally decide to break the quietness. “Ben?“

- “Yes?“ There is almost something like hope in his voice. Like he's thinking you might have the solution for all of it.

“I- nothing. Goodnight. Thank you for everything.“ You barely hear his reply, so quickly you make sure to close the chat. “Nothing“ was probably one of the biggest lies you had ever told. You desperately want to tell him how him wanting to love you in a certain way, was an indicator of him actually already loving you exactly that way. Just like you trying not to love him any longer meant that you wouldn't be able to stop. You also want to tell him how you didn't want to wait for the next life, because you were living in this life. How you wanted to be worth the risk, because he definitely was. How you'd rather regret trying something and failing instead of not trying and never knowing at all. Instead, you swallow it all. It would be better for him if you never tell him your thoughts behind this little word, nothing, wouldn't it? You grab your phone. “I'm sorry,“ you text him, although you're not even sure what exactly you are apologizing for. The reply appears on your screen almost as soon as you had sent your message; as if he had typed it already, knowing what you would write. “Don't be.“

 The night somehow goes by in a strange mix of not being able to sleep and then not being able to wake up in the morning. You don't know how you're doing it, but after a while you manage to sit up. In fact you can never quite grasp how you manage to do things when you feel the way you're feeling – but in the end, you always survive. No matter how many times Ben, or a friend, maybe a family member or even yourself – no matter how many times they had to get you away from something you were bashing some part of your body against; no matter how bad you felt, you always survived. Interestingly, the thought of always surviving is exactly what brings you to not giving up in the first place. You take a look at your phone. “How are you?“ Ben. You witness somebody letting out a snort, needing a moment to notice that it was yourself who did it. “Terrible,“ you send back, deciding to be honest. If it wasn't so sad, it would be almost funny – how on earth should you feel? You know you would get back to a normal, a good state at some point – but that would take days. Weeks maybe. And the breakup? Perhaps even longer. You stare at the screen for a while, waiting if he's going to reply. Of course he doesn't. You're having a few days off, not him. You toss the phone aside. And pick it up again. It's a game you're playing until it's suddenly afternoon. A friend picks you up a bit later, taking you out for a walk that you're spending with thinking about if it makes you feel better or not. In the evening you find yourself sitting on the couch, doing nothing but staring at your surroundings. Until your phone rings. “Hi Ben,“ you say. - “I'm sorry you're not feeling any better,“ he says. “At least not feeling good means I'm still feeling.“ You shrug even though you know he can't see it. - “What are you doing?“ He asks. You almost reply with “surviving“, but decide that it sounds too dramatic. Instead you say, “Nothing, to be honest. I'm terribly bored, but I can't find the motivation to do anything about it.“ He would know that already of course. There had been more than enough occassions when he just had joined you sitting in the dark, doing nothing. If somebody had asked you before, you would have said it wouldn't make any difference if you were alone during this sessions or not. The truth is different though. Ben's voice brings you back into the moment. “It will pass.“ It sounds like a promise. “Is there anything I can do to help?“ - “I don't think so,“ you reply. “But you wanting to help is already some kind of help. Does that make sense?“ “Maybe. I'm always there for you, okay?“ - “I know. Goodbye, Ben.“ “Get well soon.“ It indeed once again passes. It's passing together with the days. It's passing with every smile you give because you want to give it and not because you feel like you have to. The pain of missing Ben stays – obviously. It never had been there because of your illness, it had just been the icing on the cake that nobody wanted to eat. The two of you had stopped talking on the phone; all your conversations are taking place through text messages now. This doesn't mean the disctance is growing between you – of course it doesn't, the written word is not worth less than the spoken one. It's just easier to take the time with replying. To convince yourself that there's nothing unsaid behind every sentence. That there is no meaning behind it like it had been when you had lied with saying ”nothing“. It's only when Ben texts you that he's glad you are feeling good again that you snap. “I don't feel 'good' again,“ you type with putting unneccesary much pressure onto the keyboard. “I'm out of the depression, but I still love you, so obviously I don't feel good.“ You regret it as soon as you have send the message. “I'm sorry,“ you send directly after. Ben ignores the last message, probably because he knows you are aware of the fact that you are apologizing too much. “I don't feel good either, if that helps“ - “As if that would help“ You're still typing too furiously. “I wish there was something that would help though“

- “Guess there isn't“

He's not sending anything back and in this moment you don't make much of it. What else would there be to say than maybe, “Hm“? To type that would fall under wasted energy for Ben, so it's no wonder that he's not doing it.

When he still hasn't written anything back the evening after, you catch yourself being worried. In fact you have to admit that you had been worried in the afternoon already, which is why you had sent him a simple “Hope you had a nice day so far“.

“Maybe he's just having a lot to do. Or he's hanging out with friends,“ you tell yourself, refraining from sending him another “I'm sorry“. Sorry for what even? For everything. You shake your head. The only thing that's taking a bigger place in the whole situation than being sad, is being annoyed about being sad. But still – you can't stop yourself from wanting to hear just something from him. Whatever it would be. It's just that you need to be reminded that you exist. And that he knows it. Your thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of your door bell. Somehow you don't follow your first impulse of wanting to play dead but open the door. To your own surprise the first thing you're saying when you see him is, “What the hell, Ben?“ in a completely flat tone. - “There is something that can help us,“ he says. It's all happening automatically. You pulling him inside, him grabbing your face and starting to kiss you, you kissing him back. His walls starting to crumble. Putting all of the things you have to talk about later into that one kiss. Realizing when his tongue is finding yours, that Hollywood endings maybe just don't exist because people don't even bother trying to make them happen. And knowing that it maybe not has to be the next life when's he's wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Maybe it can be this one after all.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #lani wrote sth