#but no chooses the one with Oscar’s name above him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cinnxmxngxrl · 9 days ago

Text

“Check one, two”

Tom Hardy x f!Reader

Masterlist here

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

Summary: A mic accident turns into a viral scandal when you’re caught moaning your boyfriend’s name backstage.

WC: 3.8k

Tags/Wanings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, semi-public sex, filming a sex tape, unprotected piv, oral (m&f receiving), established relationship, reader is famous actress. This is a work of fiction. It is written for entertainment purposes only, the version of tom portrayed here is a fictional character. If RPF isn’t for you, feel free to skip this one

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

He was proud of the weight his name carried. Of the legacy he’d built with quiet consistency. The last few years had been about pulling away from the cameras, the spotlight. Choosing privacy over attention. Silence over scandal. His personal life had become something sacred — locked down, sealed tight.

You were the exact opposite.

Famous and filthy rich since your early teens, the word “no” had rarely, if ever, applied to you. The flashes of paparazzi, the roar of the crowd, the center of the stage — that was your natural habitat. You thrived under scrutiny. Craved the chaos.

By 26, you’d racked up more Oscars than Meryl Streep and more controversies than Kim K. You’d lost count of how many times you’d been cancelled — but it never stuck. The outrage always fizzled out, smothered beneath your undeniable talent. Your fans were loyal to a fault. Rabid. Defensive. A legion armed with memes, think pieces, and fan cams, ready to die on every hill you stood on.

The rumors started two years ago, back when you were both cast in that movie. The erotic thriller. The one that had half the internet foaming at the mouth before it even premiered. You and him on the same set was all it took for the tabloids to spiral.

He’d tried to stay under the radar. Tried to keep things quiet. Told you a million times he wanted to keep a low profile. That’s why you never commented publicly, never confirmed the relationship. But after dozens of events, red carpets, and paparazzi photos that screamed louder than any PR statement, there was no need for a declaration. Everyone knew.

Sometimes, he hated himself for getting involved with someone like you. Someone bold. Reckless. Addictive.

He was no stranger to your little games. Like during the press junket for the film — when your hand slid high up his thigh, fingers grazing his cock with the kind of casual confidence that made his pulse spike. You kept talking, kept smiling, answering questions like nothing was happening. Like you weren’t stroking him through his trousers while four journalists sat barely a few feet away.

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

This night, you looked like sin. It was the premiere of the new film you starred in, and you showed up dressed like a provocation.

That dress — red, liquid-slick, poured over your curves like melted wax. Backless. Braless. Dangerous. Every inch of skin you revealed looked deliberate, from the deep plunge of the neckline to the scandalous curve of your spine. Diamonds dripped from your neck like ice. Your heels could’ve slit a throat.

Tom was fucked the second he saw you.

“You’re gonna behave tonight, yeah?” he murmured under his breath, his palm settling low on your back as he escorted you into the venue. His voice was all gravel and restraint, a fragile attempt at composure as cameras flashed and fans screamed.

You leaned in, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Only if you make me.”

That hand slid lower. Gripped tighter. Right above your ass.

“Don’t start,” he warned, jaw already tense.

Too late. You’d started the second you stepped out of the car.

And backstage? Things got worse.

You were scheduled to give a short speech before the film began — five minutes, spotlight, polite applause. Your mic was clipped discreetly to the inside of your neckline.

Tom? Mic’d too — strictly for the behind-the-scenes documentary crew. Supposed to be muted. Supposed to be.

But when you pulled him into the green room before your cue?

That mic was live.

“Ten minutes,” you whispered, voice low and sweet as the door clicked shut behind you. The makeup team had cleared. The room was quiet. Just you and him.

His eyes dropped to your chest. Up close, the dress was almost obscene, the fabric hugged every contour, clinging to your nipples with no shame. There was nothing underneath. Nothing to hide behind.

“You’re trouble,” he growled, stepping in close. The tension in his voice cracked at the edges, already unraveling.

You smiled, slow and wicked, and reached down — palming his cock right through his tailored pants. Bold. Effortless. Deliberate.

“You like it.”

He caught your wrist. Firm. Commanding. A warning.

“Not here.”

You pouted, body pressing closer. Your lips brushed his jaw. “You’re already hard. That mean you want me?”

He stared at you like a man starved.

Then? He locked the door.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he muttered, voice rough with need, hands already gripping your hips, spinning you around, pushing you back against the dressing table. His fingers rucked up your dress — fast, practiced, hungry.

You didn’t wait. You hiked it higher. No panties. No hesitation.

And Tom? Dropped to his knees.

Right there. Suit still on. On the fucking carpet. Eyes locked on your cunt like it was his only salvation.

Face buried between your thighs before you could even breathe.

“Oh—fuck—Tom—”

You gasped, back arching, fingers flying into his hair as his tongue dragged through your folds. Slow. Greedy. Possessive. His beard scratched in the most sinful way, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking hard until your knees buckled and you had to grip the table to keep from collapsing.

“Louder,” he growled into you, “wanna hear how wrecked you get for me.”

“Tom—please—oh my god—”

And that’s when the sound tech’s worst nightmare came true.

Because while Tom had you whimpering and soaked on his tongue, his mic was still hot. Still connected. Still transmitting.

The audience heard it.

First, just a soft, breathy moan — like a secret not meant to be shared, crackling through the venue speakers as the crowd shuffled and murmured, waiting for the film to start.

Then:

“Tom—fuck, right there—”

A gasp.

A slick, wet sound.

A man’s groan, deep and distorted.

And then chaos. Scrambling audio techs. Static. The sound cut.

But the damage was done.

Back in the green room?

You were cumming on his face.

Your teeth sank into your hand to keep from screaming, body shuddering, thighs clamped around his head as his tongue drove you to pieces. He held you in place like you were his meal — which you were. Sloppy. Ruthless. Devoted.

When he finally stood, his chin was glistening. His eyes feral. His chest heaving like he’d been through war.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he muttered, dragging your dress back down, kissing your jaw as you panted in his arms. “Catch your breath. You’re on in sixty seconds.”

And then?

The door burst open. A frantic stage manager. Red-faced. Out of breath.

“Tom, your mic—”

That was when it hit you.

People heard you.

The scandal was immediate. The internet? On fire before the lights even dimmed.

Was that a MOAN during the pre-show?? Is she okay??

“Tom—fuck, right there” 😭 NOT TOM HARDY HAVING HIS MIC ON

Hard-launching his oral game mid-Emmy campaign is a flex I respect.

i want a relationship like theirs. chaotic, talented, public, and completely unapologetic. plus the oral game is clearly elite

we all heard it. you’re not slick.

On stage, you were flawless. Smiling. Glowing. Commanding the spotlight like you hadn’t just been tongue-fucked backstage with a live mic on.

Tom looked like he wanted to strangle the entire sound team.

In the car afterward, you were curled in his lap, laughing breathlessly as your phone buzzed nonstop.

“You’re trending,” you whispered against his throat. “Tom Hardy Oral Audio Leak.”

He groaned. Head falling back. Hands gripping your thigh like a man punished.

“You’re evil. You know that?”

You shrugged. “You ate me out like you were starving. You should’ve expected consequences.”

He kissed your collarbone. Then your shoulder. Then lower.

“You wanna talk consequences?” he murmured. “You’re not walking tomorrow.”

You smirked. Tugged him closer by the tie.

“I didn’t plan to.”

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You woke up with a sore throat, aching thighs from the night before, and six dozen missed calls.

The sunlight was brutal. Your body ached. Your core still pulsed with the ghost of his tongue, and the rasp in your throat sounded like you’d been screaming through a house fire.

Tom was still asleep behind you, arm heavy around your waist, warm breath at your neck, the weight of him thick and grounding. There were dried scratches trailing down his back like a confession scrawled in flesh. You’d clawed at him, ridden his mouth like a threat. Now you were paying for it.

Your phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn’t just a message.

It was a goddamn news alert.

NY Times: “Was That Tom Hardy’s Mic?” Internet Loses Its Mind Over Mysterious Moan at Last Night’s Premiere.”

You blinked. Stared at the screen. Then snorted so hard it hurt.

“Tom,” you wheezed, elbowing him. “Babe. Wake up. You’re on the front page of the Times for eating me out.”

He groaned behind you, muffled, like he was still halfway through a dream. “What…?”

“Wake. Up. We’re viral.”

He turned over, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, one cheek still creased from the pillow. And when he saw the headline?

That woke him the fuck up.

He sat up fast. Grabbed your phone. Scrolled through the notifications with the dawning horror of a man realizing he’d just publicly deepthroated his chances at subtlety.

Vulture: “When You Hear the Moan That Launched a Thousand Tweets.”

Buzzfeed: “10 Times Tom Hardy Accidentally Gave the Internet a Thirst Crisis.”

GQ: “Mic’d Up and Down Bad: The Moan Heard ’Round the World.”

“…Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, this is a mess.”

Thirty minutes later? PR hellfire.

Your manager was pacing the hotel suite like she was preparing to fling herself out the window. Your agent had called twice, then texted in all caps:

“DO NOT SAY ANYTHING TO THE PRESS.”

“DO NOT TWEET ABOUT IT.”

“DONT DO ANYTHING.”

Tom’s publicist? Sent a single email. Subject line blank. Just the message:

“Tom. Please. Not again.”

You were on your third mimosa. Barefoot, robe half open, legs still aching, a smug ache in your hips where he’d made a full meal out of you.

“Y’know,” you said, sipping from the flute, “we could deny it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You moaned my name into a hot mic.”

You grinned into your glass.

Your manager called again.

“Alright,” you said, exhaling, “so what’s the move? Denial? Apology? Public celibacy pact?”

Your manager’s voice crackled like she’d aged a decade overnight. “Just… let them talk. With luck, they’ll forget soon enough.”

They wouldn’t.

Not today.

Today, Twitter was war.

“the way she said ‘fuck’ like she was his last meal…”

“imagine having tom hardy’s face between your legs and you know the mic is on and you STILL don’t care.”

“i need that man to choke me backstage like he choked his chances at an unproblematic press tour.”

You showed him the tweets.

He laughed so hard he fell back against the couch. “You’re a menace.”

You crawled into his lap like gravity had pulled you there. Straddling him in his towel. Hair dripping. Smiling like a problem.

“You like it.”

His hand slid to your thigh — fingers slipping just beneath the edge of your robe.

“I fuckin’ love it.”

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

Later that day, the interview requests rolled in.

You picked your favorite: a soft, upscale, Vanity Fair-style profile. One-on-one. Fireplace. Matching all black. Glamor and damage control in one shot.

Tom wore a tight black turtleneck. You wore a smug smile, glossy lips, and the memory of his mouth between your thighs.

Midway through, the interviewer coughed delicately.

“So,” she said, flipping her cue card with the stiff grace of someone afraid of HR, “we have to address the elephant in the room. Last night was… eventful.”

You smiled with practiced innocence. “Was it?”

“There’s a lot of buzz. About… a mic. And a moment.”

Tom leaned in. “Sound design’s a funny thing, innit? Could’ve been a technical issue.”

You deadpanned, eyes cool: “Sometimes… you really feel the performance.”

The interviewer blinked.

Tom added, voice a purr: “I like to support her work.”

She stammered something about Twitter and going viral.

You sipped your water. “Tom’s talented.”

He smiled like sin. “She’s vocal.”

You nodded solemnly. “Always support local artists.”

The interviewer gave up.

The internet exploded. Again.

“‘support her work’ IS CODE FOR EATING HER OUT BEFORE SHOWTIME.”

“their media training is nonexistent and i’m obsessed.”

“they are deranged and in love and i would die for either of them.”

“he said ‘support her work’ and she said ‘he’s talented.’ baby that’s not flirting, that’s foreplay.”

TikTok edits hit like a tsunami.

Caption: “TOM HARDY LOOKS AT HER LIKE SHE’S GOD.”

Song: Rihanna’s “S&M.”

Clips: Tom licking his lips mid-interview, you whispering something in his ear, one distorted cut of your moan at 0.75x speed.

A girl sobbing into her ring light: “THEY FLIRT LIKE FOREPLAY AND I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH.”

Caption: “Tom Hardy’s hands are the real problem.”

30 seconds of slow-motion clips: Tom’s hands gripping your waist, adjusting his mic, resting casually on your thigh during interviews like they weren’t registered weapons.

2.3 million views in 3 hours.

Instagram Reels? Just loops of Tom saying “She’s vocal,” comments:

“he said it with his whole dick in love.”

“i need to go lie down.”

“he’s not acting. he’s possessed.”

Merch dropped the next day.

Minimalist font. Black hoodies. Just said: “She’s Vocal.”

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You’re sprawled across the bed, silk robe barely hanging on, one shoulder exposed, thighs parted like a half-written invitation. The glow of your screen lights your face as you scroll — red carpet stills, backstage selfies, a grainy, almost pornographic shot of Tom with his teeth in your neck, your lipstick smeared across his jaw in a hotel elevator.

He walks in from the bathroom, towel slung low, still damp, skin flushed from the shower. He sees your expression first, then your screen.

“What’s on your mind?”

You tilt your head, smiling slow and wicked. “I was thinking… we already have the audio of you eating me out. What about the video?”

He pauses, water beading on his chest, eyes narrowing with suspicion and heat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You drag your gaze down his chest, down to the barely-clinging towel. “I want to record us.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” he mutters.

You grin wider. “Little bit.”

“You think I want this shit leaked? ‘Tom Hardy Sex Tape’ trending while I’m buying cereal?”

You drag a finger up your thigh, slow, deliberate, tracing the inside with teasing flicks. “No one’s leaking anything. This is just for us.”

You tilt your chin, letting your voice go soft, coaxing: “You don’t trust me?”

His jaw flexes. “I trust you. I don’t trust your iCloud password to be strong enough to not get hacked.”

You blink, mock-offended. “Oh, come on.”

He snorts — then stops short when you say it:

“I want to watch you ruin me.”

His chest rises sharply. Breath caught.

“I want to see your hands around my throat. I want to hear the way I scream when you fuck me. I want to remember what your face looks like when you’re inside me. When I’m coming all over you.”

Tom swears under his breath. “Fucking hell…”

And then —

“Pass me the fuckin’ phone.”

It starts slow.

His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs circling, mapping every inch like it’s his first time all over again, except this time, there’s a lens watching. Recording.

And that’s what makes your breath stutter when he pushes your knees apart, spreading you open under the warm, amber lamplight.

“Camera’s rolling,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking up. “Say something for me.”

You smirk. Voice syrup-sweet.

“What should I say, daddy?”

His eyes go black. Pupils blown. You’ve got him.

“Come here and tell the camera how much you love sucking this cock.”

You do.

On your knees, plush and obedient, robe falling open over your shoulders and pooling around your waist. Completely bare underneath. Nipples tight, stomach fluttering, dripping down your thighs before you’ve even touched him.

Your hand wraps around his thick length — slow, reverent, greedy. Fingers barely meeting around the girth. He twitches in your palm, precum slicking your thumb.

You whimper, breath warm against the head as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft — tongue teasing the slit, dragging along that thick, throbbing vein that runs beneath.

“I love it so much,” you whisper, stroking slow, tongue dragging along the vein. “Best cock I’ve ever had. Ever tasted.”

Tom groans low in his throat, a feral sound, deep and cracked open. His arm flexes as he tilts the camera downward, angling it to catch every filthy inch of what you’re doing to him.

“Look at her,” he pants. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth. Takes me so good. She’s fuckin’ starving for it. Fuckin’ love you, baby—”

Your lips part wider. You lick a thick stripe up the underside, then suck the tip in hard, cheeks hollowing around him. Eyes fluttering. Throat relaxing.

He groans, fingers twitching at the base, watching the way his cock disappears down your throat, inch by inch, until your nose presses against his pelvis.

You choke — just a little. Just enough. The sound makes his hand tighten in your hair.

You moan around him, the vibration pulling another deep curse from his chest. You hollow your cheeks more. Drool slips down your chin, glistening in the lens.

“She loves it,” he growls into the lens, voice tight with restraint, jaw clenched like it’s killing him not to cum already. “Look at this little slut. Fuckin’ addicted.”

Then he hands the phone to you — slow, deliberate.

You blink up, pupils blown, spit-slick lips swollen. Fingers trembling as you take the phone in one hand… and his cock in the other.

Still stroking. Still needy. Still aching.

“You wanna watch yourself fuck my face, daddy?” you whisper, lips brushing his tip again, eyes gleaming.

And then you angle the phone down, give it the perfect view as you take him back into your mouth — sloppier this time. Louder. Messier.

You gag when he thrusts, and the sound sends him over the edge.

“Fuck… stop,” His breath shudders. “Your turn now.”

You’re flat on your back now, legs spread, camera shaking in your grip as you film him tongue-deep in your cunt, eyes locked on your, groaning against your pussy like he’s fucking starving. His hands grip your thighs hard, pulling you closer with every lick, jaw working, nose buried, and those wild eyes locked on yours.

He groans as he tastes you, lapping slow, then faster, then harder — holding your hips down when you buck up. You can hear the sounds on the recording — wet, obscene, slick, every lap, every slick drag of tongue against your soaked folds.

You’re panting, breathless. “He doesn’t stop until you beg,” you say, voice shaking. “I’ve tried. He doesn’t stop.”

Tom lifts his head, chin soaked. He grins. Cocky. Filthy. Proud.

“Fucking right I don’t.”

You try to keep the phone steady, filming the way his tongue flicks your clit, the way your thighs are trembling, the way your toes curl against the sheets, heels digging in like you’re trying to run from it—except you’re not. You want more.

“Make me cum on camera, Tom,” you gasp.

His tongue answers faster than words. You moan so loud the sound spikes the recording.

You scream. The camera tips. Shakes. Then tumbles to the sheets.

You’re now filming yourself as you ride him — your body rocking, hips rolling, that soaked little pussy taking him all the way in, again and again and again. The camera catches everything: the bounce of your tits, the sheen of sweat on your chest, the obscene way his cock disappears into your soaked heat.

You dip your fingers down, stroke your clit, gliding through your own slick, whispering to the camera, “Look how wet I am. All for him. Only for my man.”

“Fuck, baby,” Tom grunts, one hand gripping your ass, the other adjusting the angle. “Look at this cunt. Mine. So fuckin’ tight and wet.”

You whimper again, roll your hips deeper, and his cock drags against every sensitive spot inside you — slow, hot friction that makes your whole body tremble. The sound of you soaking him fills the room.

“Give me the phone,” he growls. “Wanna film your pretty face. Wanna see that pretty little face when you cum on me.”

He takes the phone with one hand, the other grabbing your jaw, tilting your face up for the camera, and for him. Your mouth is open, eyes glassy, tits bouncing with every thrust.

He’s holding your jaw now, whispering, “Show the camera. Show ’em what this cunt was made for—mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

You sob his name.

Over and over. Louder each time.

“Say it louder,” he pants. “Let the camera hear how I fuck the words outta you.”

“Tom—fuck, deeper—please—don’t stop—don’t stop—” You’re gasping, voice shrill and wild. Your clit grinding against his pelvis, your thighs clenching around his waist, your whole body twitching with every thrust.

“That’s right, babe. Let ‘em hear what my cock does to you.”

The final scene? Pure filth.

He’s got you bent over, cheek to the sheets, hair in his fist, cock pounding into you so deep it makes your legs give out.

One hand tangled in your hair. The other holds the camera. Zoomed in on your cunt. The way it grips him. The way it drools around him every time he slams in.

“This is my favorite view,” he groans, breath ragged. “Watch this when I’m gone. Fuck yourself to it. Promise me.”

Your voice breaks, sobbing. “I’ll cum to it. I’ll cum so fuckin’ hard.”

He grits out a curse, pounding harder, the slap of skin-on-skin loud and merciless.

“Mmm—f-fuck, Tom—ohmygod—right there—don’t stop—don’t stop—”

“Look at you,” he rasps. “Fucked open. Cryin’. So fuckin’ desperate for it…That’s it, babe. Cum on my cock. Make a fuckin’ mess of me again.”

“Tom—fuck—I’m—I’m—” Your voice shatters. “I’m cumming—fuck—I’m cumming—”

He growls your name. His thrusts go erratic. “Fuck—fuck, babe—I’m—shit—I’m cumming too—”

Your body jerks. You cum loud, wet, soaking him, legs shaking, ass slapping back into his hips as he fills you, deep and hot, with a strangled groan.

“Keep the camera on me,” you gasp, eyes glazed. “Don’t stop filming.”

So he does.

He films himself kissing your shoulder, stroking your hair, then slipping two fingers into your still-dripping cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, slow and possessive.

“That’s where it belongs,” he murmurs.

You both collapse into the sheets, breathless, sore, laughing through the haze.

Tom rolls to his side, grabs the phone, and films you one last time:

Flushed. Glowing. Fucked out and grinning.

“You’re gonna watch this every time I’m gone,” he says, voice low.

You smile, voice hoarse. “Gonna send you timestamps.”

And then—

Fade to black.

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

A/N: Okay, so this was just a silly little idea I threw together in about an hour — hope you enjoy it anyway! The final part of the Alfie series is dropping this Saturday, and I’m also working on the third and final chapter of the Already Ruined fic with Harry.

To everyone who’s requested Harry and Alfie fics: I see you, I love you, and I promise I’m working on them, thank you for your patience🩷🩷

Thanks for all the love and support.

#tom hardy x you #tom hardy x oc #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy x y/n #tom hardy #tom hardy x f!reader #tom hardy/reader #tom hardy/you #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fic #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy smut

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barcapix · 6 months ago

Note

oscar piastri looking after your brothers cat (but he’s bias and hates cats because he has dogs)

✮ Feline Fear - Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

SY: you agreed to babysit your siblings cat for a night with Oscar, unknowingly, there was a cat in his presence.

A/N: now open to requests for any f1 drivers <3

Warnings: none - fluff.

“Do we really have to do this?”

Oscar reluctantly steps inside to your brother’s apartment, you following from behind. The door clicks shut and you both stare down at the sticky note on the counter.

Despite groaning the entire journey there, Oscar finally grinned and clapped his hands together, after very briefly scanning over the words — ‘personalised free food in the fridge x’

“Alright! This is already better than I imagined.” he sighed, immediately making his way for the lounge. Already naive.

When pleading to your boyfriend about this proposal, you conveniently left out one tiny detail: the cat. As far as he knew, you were just babysitting your brother’s home whilst he was away.

Although, you never really knew Oscar had a fear of cats… until now.

“Maybe this isn’t so bad.” Oscar hums into your ear, securing a hold to your waist as he sinks lower into the sofa. “Didn’t I tell you so? I think you need to trust me more often.” Glancing up to meet his eyes.

“Hm, maybe I’ll reconsider.” he replies, earning a playful swat from you.

The brunette switched through the TV channels vigorously, the first yawn of the night slipping past your lips.

Whilst burying your head into his shoulder and very boringly waiting for him to choose a movie, you extend your arm out to welcome Anie into your embrace. “Hey sleepyhead.”

As she approached you further and further, your boyfriend’s attention flickered beyond the TV, now to the feline on your lap; his expression froze.

What scared him most though, was how she was slowly making her way to his lap too.

He hastily dropped the remote from his hands, stood up and paced around the coffee table whilst causing your head to lop from his movement.

“Oscar? What’s wrong?”

“The uh...the cat," he stammers, pointing at the black furball. "Anie?"

You chuckle half heartedly, trying to suppress the bubbling in your throat. “Since when were you so afraid of cats?”

“I don’t know, maybe since like forever!” he flails his arms out, scrambling to keep a fair distance between you and Anie. “Look at it.”

“Oh Oscar, stop being so silly. Just come and sit down.” Patting the cushion besides you.

But he wasn’t having any of it.

“Yeah, no way.” Oscar protests, his gaze fixed warily on Anie. His eyes never looked away from the cat purring into your jeans, an angry grimace painted on his features.

“She’s… she’s plotting something.”

The silence between you stretched out far, only the buzzing from the air con machine above audible. Oscar refused to sit down, instead pacing back and forth across the room whilst you try to coax Anie onto your lap.

The cat, sensing his unease, seems to torment him even more — occasionally hopping off the sofa nearby to him.

As the minutes drag on, you grew sleepy, rubbing your eyes and continuously yawning as the time now read 11:45pm.

Oscar, however, kept his eyes wide almost never blinking. He stood there, infront of the TV, with his hands on his hips and staring impetuously.

“Babe,” you whine, huffing. “She’s friendly! Will you please just come back and cuddle me?” As if. Your attempt to reason wasn’t enough, as he still stood rooted to the same spot.

“And it even has a human name! Like Anie?” he raises his an eyebrow, “Anie for a cat?”

You adjust your position on the sofa, back upright, feigning offence at your boyfriend’s commentary.

“Okay now I don’t know who you’re trying to insult — my brother or the cat.”

Unserious as he was, Oscar finally cracked a smile again, shaking his head and laughing. “Both.”

“Oscar!” you exclaim.

“He should have picked a dog instead.” he shrugged, his voiced laced with humor. “So you’ll sit back down with me now?”

Sensing his sudden comfort was enough for you to ask the question; surprisingly getting a nod.

Over the course of the past hour, his hair fell sloppily onto his forehead, eyes low, and voice hoarse — enough to drive you crazy.

As he returned to your side, you hesitantly shuffled closer to his chest; his arm draping across your shoulder whilst he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

Oscar resumed play to the programme from earlier, his heartbeat lulling you to a light sleep with Anie purring quietly on your legs.

“Just make sure she stays on your side.”

tags: @n0vazsq @paucubarsisimp (soz for the reupload, i can’t use dividers bcuz it’s getting rid of my taglists)💕

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theprice-if · 2 years ago

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DEMO (TBA)

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Roaring stadiums, filled to the max with screaming fans, as you stand with a microphone in hand. Your heart pounds against your chest as you get ready to perform. Shouts of adoration filter past your ear as the lights finally turn on; the show truly begins. With you in the center of it all.

Except… that isn’t you. You’re to the side, watching it all, with a clipboard pressed to your chest. Making sure that nothing was out of place.

You’re just an assistant, an assistant to the biggest star gracing the stage in the past decade, but still just an assistant.

That is until you woke up alone in a room that was way above your pay grade; with a shiny ring on your finger. Your new spouse? The very star that you have been working for, for the last two years. The same star that many believed would never settle down— until you came along.

These rapid-fire events thrust you into the spotlight. Rocketing you towards the twinkling lights of stardom as you desperately try to figure out how to come to terms with everything.

The media and tabloids are just the tip of the iceberg. The very star you’re married to offers you the deal of a lifetime.

Stay married to them for a year and get a record deal; the biggest reason you moved to L.A.... All of your dreams will come true after twelve months.

If only you had known what the price of stardom truly brought.

The Price is rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, alcohol/drug use, questionable behavior, and more!

★ Features ★

Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, facets of your personality, hobbies, and more!

Get into the studio and start preparing for what will come when the year is up. Find the voice that you have always wanted to showcase in the industry!

Create your own music! Cultivate your debut album and show the world what it's been missing!

Interact with your fans and the music industry as a whole through social media! Will you become an upcoming star that the media loves or a black sheep that'll keep them returning for more?

Engage in romance with a variety of characters. Will the fake one become real with your pretend spouse? Or perhaps you'll find passion building with the less complicated-- and fun-loving-- photographer?

Discover what truly happened the night of your marriage. Or, if you choose to do so, leave it as the hazy fog in the recesses of your mind.

And much more as the story continues forward!

Are you willing to pay the price for your dream? Will that dream change over time?

★ The ROs ★

Adrian/Ariana Ocean ★ He/Him or She/Her ★ 28 ★

Your boss, and also your spouse, the most sought-after star in the entertainment industry. With a reputation as spotty as one would expect with someone at the top. However, with the news of your marriage, people seem to be seeing them in a new light; something that they’ve been wanting for a very long time. Let’s hope it’ll last.

Blake Turner ★ He/Him or She/Her ★ 28 ★

A Hollywood starlet that’s coming off their recent Oscar win; who also happens to be your ex from college. An ex that dumped you when they dropped out of college to become a star. A story that you never truly got to hear the entirety of. And suddenly, just like that, they’re back in your life with the same smirk from before. The one that made you fall in love with them, to begin with.

Liam/Leah Shaw ★ He/Him or She/Her ★ 29 ★

Your newly assigned bodyguard, you still have to get used to that, who is supposed to protect you whenever your spouse can’t be with you. You just weren’t expecting them to start affecting you the way that they have. Their warm smile is like a beacon in this unfamiliar world.

Isaac/Isabel Carnell ★ He/Him or She/Her ★ 27 ★

The photographer who is tasked with taking lovely shots of the newly wed couple. One of the only people, besides management, that actually knows what the hell is actually going on. Their general cheerfulness does wonders to lighten your spirits. Not to mention the pictures they take are absolutely divine.

Carson/Cara Madden ★ He/Him or She/Her ★ 33 ★

The lawyer that is making sure everything goes smoothly; while also trying to not get gray hairs throughout. An aloof individual that only cracks a smile around a select few people. However, they’re good at their job and that’s what should matter most to you. Even though you sort of wish they’d smile at you. At least just once.

#the price #interactive fiction #interactive game #choice script #hosted games #choice of games #no demo #if wip #interact if

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604to647 · 1 year ago

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Safest with You (Ch. 11 - The Poker Game)

5.9K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din hosts a poker game and invites you and your friends; the meeting of friends prompts a discussion about the status of your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk and teasing, mentions of infidelity (not Din), reader gets in her own head a bit (some anxiety), pet names as usual (Pretty bird, pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, etc.), reader is described as shorter than Din and Din can pick her up.

A/N: Please kindly suspend your disbelief and allow me to write Poe Dameron as Boba Fett’s son 😂😂😂 Like, when I thought of a roguish, charming, sh*t disturber son of a mob boss, Oscar Isaac’s delicious face just came to mind 🤷🏻‍♀️ I'm going to level with you, I wasn't a big fan of Poe in the Sequel trilogy - too much fly boy/fuck boi energy for me, and that's kind of how I'm writing him here. I'm sorry, Poe-lovers, please don't come after me! (For the record, I *am* a big fan of OI!)

I ran a poll on WIP Wednesday asking asking if there was a preference to separate the smut at the end this chapter into its own post. I told myself that if even one person answered that they wanted it separate, then I would do that; it's easy enough to click on the link at the end of the chapter to take you to the smut if you so choose! I hope no one is disappointed that the storyline is moving in the direction where smut will be a regular addition to the chapters - but if that's not your bag, I totally understand! I'm sorry if you need to go and am so thankful that you've read along to this point 😘😘😘

Series Masterlist

In the following weeks, you and Din fall into a comfortable rhythm and easily slot each other into your busy lives.

Your nightly dog walks resume and on most week nights Din tries to stay at your apartment, with you working late more often than not and it being closer to your office. He’s becoming a familiar face to your work colleagues, bringing you (and often them as well) dinner as an easy and welcomed excuse to see you. Some days he’ll just join you for a lunch trip to your favourite sandwich shop and the two of you will have a quick picnic outside your office building if the weather is warm enough. Weekends are for long, lazy dates that span the entire day, rolling into romantic dinners that have you and Din eating your way across the city. It’s so easy being with Din; the conversation never stops, the sex is brain meltingly good, and he never ceases to make you feel adored. If anyone were to ask, you were the smartest, funniest, most beautiful woman on this planet and Din would readily unretire his boxing gloves if anyone dared to disagree. Every moment with Din makes you giddy; not only is this bear of a man actually a secret softie, he’s also goofy and funny, and lucky for you, his new favourite pastime is to make you laugh.

One night over dinner, you mention in passing that you love the arm waving tube men outside of used car dealerships (actually, you don’t know what they’re called, so you did a sort of arm flail with both your arms above your head and Din almost died laughing). The following Saturday, you arrive at the gym in the afternoon to find that Din has rented two tube men and they’re bending, blowing this way and that, arms flying and rippling from the force of the air being blown from the fan units in their base. You join a large group of onlookers in front of the gym, mostly children, laughing and watching with amusement as the silly attention-grabbing gimmick brings you pure unadulterated joy for a good 10 minutes. After going in, you find Din folding some towels next to the boxing ring and you launch yourself at him directly, too full of laughter and delight to care who sees. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you murmur against his lips, unable to stop smiling. Din picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, not caring who sees either; he wants everyone at the gym to know whose girl you are. Feeling your big smile against his mouth before seeing it, he grins, “You’re welcome, pretty bird.”

“Are they a permanent feature?”

“Unfortunately, no. Just for the weekend, then I have to give them back to the used car lot down the street, Watto’s. Plus, people keep coming in asking if we’re having a special on memberships today,” he says with a groan.

Giggling, you slide down Din’s body and give him a long, deep kiss, one that will guarantee a fair bit of ribbing from the guys, before heading up to Din’s apartment via the gym’s second floor entrance. Most of these indulgent weekends start at Din’s so he can stay close to work – you take to baking in Din’s apartment and bringing down treats for the patrons, which are generally very well received. When you brought down ginger molasses cookies, Greef had jokingly scolded you saying his boxers shouldn’t have too many sweet treats as part of their training, before scarfing down two cookies, then swatting Jimmy’s hand away from the plate and pocketing three more. You’re sure your offering the following weekend of high fibre raisin bran muffins were better for training regimens, but the enthusiasm for them seemed lower.

Din’s place, the apartment and the gym as an extension, starts to feel more and more comfortable; a small collection of your things (books, toiletries) have migrated to his apartment, and you love that the familiar faces at Mando’s are starting to fold into your life as well.

The only small twinge of regret you have is that with all the time you're spending with Din, especially the time spent at his place, you’re not spending as much time with Al. He’s more than welcomed at Din’s but you hadn’t wanted to uproot him too much, or impose too much on Din too quickly, so on the weekends Bea’s been coming by to walk Al and take care of him. You miss your special guy, your long weekend walks and dog park events; as you cut the butter into your shortbread cookie dough in Din’s kitchen, you decide that you have to make more of an effort to make sure Al isn’t left out.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything, pretty bird.”

“Do you think you might be able to hang out with Al tomorrow night? I feel like he’s feeling a little neglected, and I don’t want to leave him alone. I’d take him to Rory’s but her building has a weird no pets rule,” you pout a little as you scratch Al’s head with one hand while holding the phone to your ear with your other.

Without hesitation, Din agrees, “Sure, baby. I’d love to have him over during poker night. Guarantee he won’t feel lonely.”

“I’ll make some food for your poker night as a thank you! And I’ll bring a dog bed too. God knows I have a few to spare,” you chuckle as you scan your apartment to pick a bed to bring.

“No need, pretty bird. I bought Al a dog bed for here already.”

“Of course you did,” you smile to yourself. Thoughtful, thoughtful man.

And that’s how you find yourself with two big bags of food, an overnight bag each for yourself and a dog, and said dog in tow, looking up at the long flight of stairs leading up to Din’s apartment. Luckily, you don’t have to wait very long before his thundering steps are heard and he comes to help you carry everything. Once on the top landing, Din gingerly places everything on the ground before pulling you in close for the greeting you deserve.

“So… I’ve been thinking…” Din starts, almost shy, “Do you think your friends might like to come over and hang out here? It won’t be a ‘girls’ night’ but there’s food and drinks and it might be fun for our friends to meet? …I mean, if you think it’s a good idea?”

Grinning at Din’s suggestion, you think outloud, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea… I’ll check with Rory and Bea, but what brought this on?”

Din answers by burying his face into your neck and nibbling on your earlobe, “Just like being with you, pretty bird.”

You relent easily, “Ok, but I’m warning you right now about playing with Rory, she’s going to take you all to the cleaner’s.”

“Good. It’s been boring being the only one who wins money,” laughs Paz, who has suddenly appeared. Giving Din a pointed look, “Hey, you know, the gentlemanly thing is to help the lady carry her bags inside,” before giving you a big bear side hug and greeting you with his new nickname for you (“Hey, Lil’ Lady.”) He picks up the food bags and heads in, passing Bo who’s on her way onto the landing to say hi. For one reason or another, you haven’t seen her since Jimmy’s fight night; after a big hug, she looks at you with seriousness, “Thank god you’re back. This one,” she jabs a thumb at Din, “was an unbearable grump while you were apart. Please never leave us again.” She takes Al’s leash from you, and leads him inside the apartment; a second later you hear a raucous cheer of “Alfredo!!” followed by Al’s happy barks.

After setting out the food you brought (caprese sandwiches, sugar dusted mascarpone-blueberry turnovers, bruschetta) and putting what needs to be warmed in the oven (garlic knots, salmon-onion dip, turkey meatball pops), you text the girls and receive an enthusiastic response to the suggested change of plans.

Sitting on Din’s lap to give him the good news, you pass around the sandwiches to the delight of the players already seated at the big card table Din set out for the occasion. You’re excited that the Mandos that are here tonight will get to meet some of your friends and you tell them so.

“Looking forward to it! And… you get to meet Poe tonight,” says Koska, with an almost apologetic look.

“Who’s Poe?” you ask, curiously looking around at the facial expressions of the Mandos, ranging from eye rolling to what can only be described as shit eating grins.

Din explains, “He’s Boba’s son.”

“And you guys… like him?”

“We have to,” quips Paz, which is met with laughter from the group, “but we also do for real. He’s just… a lot.”

Mayfeld chimes in, “He’s all about having good time; always trying to up the ante cause he’s got ‘My dad’s a big deal’ energy and always has. Used to start shit for fun when we were in school cause he knew no one could do anything to him.”

“I remember it more like he would start trouble with that smart mouth of his, then one of us would have to finish it.” Paz looks at you, “Used to be me and Din standing between him and a bloody nose, every damn time.”

Din appears to be a bit more forgiving of the past, “He’s calmed down a bit now… still has the smart mouth and a lot of energy, but blows off steam in more constructive ways… like poker instead of all night partying. Which is like the rest of us, really…”

Jimmy reaches past you to grab a sandwich, “Yeah, the rest of you old timers…”

“What was that?”, Bo cocks an eye brow at the young boxer, who smartly pretends to be incredibly invested in selecting the right sandwich.

Wrapping his arms a little more tightly around your waist, Din draws soothing circles on your thigh with his fingers, “Don’t let Paz give you the wrong impression of Poe; he’s just bitter because he was always the one who ended up getting in trouble when someone wanted to kick Poe’s ass.”

Paz huffs, “Yeah, getting in trouble for defending him when he probably should have taken a pounding; kissing someone else’s girlfriend half the time.”

“Omigod” you giggle, as Paz puts Jimmy in a loose headlock; revenge for the “old timers” comment.

Woves pipes up, “Oh yeah, he’s still a shameless flirt. Warn your friends.”

“Warn her friends?! Warn herself!” exclaims Koska.

“He’s mainly all talk though. Lisa would slit him from balls to throat if she ever caught him cheating,” Woves explains, seemingly to you.

“Caught him again, you mean,” Koska grimaces.

“Oh shoot. I forgot about that girl on the yacht.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about Fennec’s birthday party, but yeah she was pissed.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Donut shop,” chime in Bo, Mayfeld, Din and Paz in unison.

“Lisa is his girlfriend?” you ask, unsure.

“His wife. And the mother of his two beautiful kids. They’ve been together since high school. On and off, if you haven’t guessed already,” Bo looks embarrassed, even though she has no reason to.

Din hooks his chin over your shoulder and says gently, “That was in the past, though. They’ve worked through it and he’s been good.”

“Nah. I bet he just got good at not getting caught. Always assume cheating until proven otherwise, is what I say,” pontificates Mayfield.

“And that, Mayfeld, is why you’re single,” snickers Woves.

“Right, and you’re beating them off with a stick,” counters Mayfield. The group laughs, but you find yourself quiet. You know the Mandos are just joking around and that they’ve all known eachother forever, but you can’t help but bristle a little at the casual way they talk about Poe’s past (and potential?) infidelity. If the rest of the Mandos are anything like Din, you know they value loyalty and fealty, but did their sense of unwavering commitment not extend to partners? You and Din haven’t officially discussed exclusivity; you had assumed that like you, Din wasn’t seeing anyone else – but maybe that wasn’t the case.

You can feel yourself getting in your own head and before you can help yourself, an image of Din kissing someone else flashes before your eyes and your heart constricts painfully. Sliding off of Din’s lap, you excuse yourself to go check on the food in the oven; you make to busy yourself with taking out and plating the food, but you can’t help it, the heart-breaking image has taken root in your mind. You’re mad at yourself for spiraling so quickly over something created entirely by your own overactive imagination. Yes, you haven’t confirmed your relationship status with Din, but he hasn’t given you any reason to give any weight to your sudden anxiety. This stabbing pain in your chest is entirely of your own making and you feel so much embarrassment that you start to tear up a little bit, which makes it even worse.

You’re not sure how long you’re in the kitchen wallowing, but it must be a while because Din comes in looking for you, “Need any help, pretty bird?”

Turning away from him, you say quietly, “No, thank you though. I should have everything out in a minute.”

And just like that, Din knows something is wrong; he makes sure you don’t have anything in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose right behind your ear and kissing your neck lovingly, “I’m here, baby.”

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, even though he wants to know. He doesn’t ask how he can help, even though he would do anything to make it better; he just wants you to know he’s there and that you can come to him on your terms. You turn in his arms and bury your face into him, breathing in his soothing scent and instantly feeling calmer. Face smooshed into his chest, you mumble, “Dhnn, dyoothkchhhteenisohhhk?”

Din chuckles, “Sorry, pretty bird, I don’t think I caught that.”

Leaning away slightly, but not making eye contact, you re-ask your somewhat loaded question in a quiet voice, “Din, do you think cheating is ok?”

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to meet his concerned eyes, Din says gently, “No, no, I don’t, sweetheart. What brought this on? Is it because we were talking about Poe?”

You sigh a small sigh, “I guess so. You just seem to all be so… okay with his cheating history? At least everyone talks about it so casually. And I’m guessing you all know Lisa too… I feel so bad for her if everyone is talking about how her husband cheats like it’s so normal or something…” You collect yourself and take a deep breath, “Din, actually, no, I’m sorry. That’s being presumptuous. You’ve all been friends forever and have so much shared history… I don’t mean to assume anything about your friendships. I just… I didn’t know if the way Poe’s cheating seems to be no big deal… means that all cheating is no big deal.”

“I see,” considers Din. He knows this is a serious topic and it obviously means a lot to you, but he can’t help but find your anxious state somewhat endearing, you aren’t usually so flustered and it makes him desperately want to scoop you up in his arms and soothe away your worries. He bends down to give you a little peck on your lips before picking you up by your waist and placing you on a free space on the counter. He doesn’t want you to be able to avoid eye contact with him when he answers, “Pretty bird, I don’t blame you for getting the wrong idea. You’re right, we probably are too casual when we talk about Poe’s exploits. It’s been going on forever, and he’s kind of like… a show that we get front row seats for? Like a celebrity kind of? We love him, and he give us something to talk about, but the way he lives is not the way we live. He lives in a totally different world than the Mandos; when you’re the boss’ son, you play by different rules.”

You gaze reverently at Din as he so patiently and lovingly talks you down from your self created ledge and can’t help but let a little smile crack.

“Poe… well, you’ll see. Poe is Poe. Can’t be mad at him. And sometimes that makes it seem like the shit he pulls isn’t that bad. But, baby, for ourselves? I promise you, no Mando has ever been a cheat. It goes against everything we stand for; we don’t cheat each other, we don’t cheat the family, and we definitely don’t cheat in our relationships. And I swear to you, baby – I never have and would never cheat. Not on anyone, but definitely not you.” Leaning in to alternate soft kisses to your lips, your neck, the corners of your mouth and your nose, Din’s voice gets low and husky, “Why would I want anyone else? You’re my dream girl. You make me laugh and smile. You’re so sweet. And the smartest. You know how smart you are? I’m obsessed with everything that comes out of that mouth. I could listen to you talk about anything for hours. Days. And you’re beautiful, and kind, and you take care of me, and my friends. Just look at how much effort you put in to the food for tonight when you didn’t have to even bring anything at all. I’m so lucky. Why would I ever want anyone else?”

“Oh Din,” you whisper, marveling at Din’s talent for saying all the perfect things; you had wound yourself up inexplicably tight, but he knew exactly how to calm you and pull you out of your dark place, “How do you always know what I need to hear to feel better?”

“It’s actually very easy, sweetheart. All I need to do is tell you the truth,” murmurs Din, as he starts to deepen the kisses, “Actually, scratch that. I lied a bit, I’m just obsessed with this mouth, period. Love kissing this mouth. Love when this mouth opens up for me. How it feels pressed on my skin. The way it takes my cock…”

“Oh fuck, Din-“

“…but the thing I love the most about this mouth is the sounds it makes when you come,” Din buries his face into your neck, nipping at your sensitive spots as you cross your ankles behind his back and pull him closer.

A round of raucous laughter from the poker table pulls you out of your arousal laden haze and away from Din, both of you panting lightly. Looking in Din’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity, you feel comfortable enough to broach the last of your overblown concerns, “Din, if you were seeing other people though, I couldn’t be mad, I guess. It’s not like we’ve had any talks about exclusivity.”

At first, Din isn’t sure if you’re being serious, the idea so absurd to him. But when he sees you start to chew your bottom lip nervously, he placates you, “Oh, pretty bird, I didn’t think we needed to have a talk about it. I’ve been exclusively yours since I met you in the coffeeshop. I was yours and only yours before I even knew your name, before I knew if I would ever see you again,” Din leans his forehead against yours and you can barely breathe from his romantic words.

When you sigh, relaxed, Din grins, “Feeling better, sweetheart?” Looking up at him, your eyes bright, you smile and nod happily. As he helps you hop down from the counter, you cheekily ask, “Don’t you want to ask if I’m seeing anyone else?”

Din stills, hands frozen where they were holding your waist not a moment ago, “Are you?”

Now you can’t help but be mischievous, “And if I were?”

Eyes darkening, Din reaches for you, “Baby, I-”

At that moment, your phone buzzes and you’re saved, “Oh! Bea and Rory are downstairs! I’m going to let them in!” You grab a plate of garlic knots and practically flounce out of the kitchen, depositing the plate at the poker table before exiting the apartment. You’re about halfway down the stairs when you hear the outside door being buzzed open, and see the smiling faces of your friends along with a the attractive face of a dark haired man you don’t recognize.

The man is chatting animatedly with Bea, his smile lighting up his whole face. He is quite handsome, you admit – soft longish curls frame his face and he’s mainly clean cut with just a hint of a shadow, giving you a clear view of his chiseled jaw. His lightly hooded eyes are bright and full of mirth, and his expression is currently so energetic he has a charming, almost boyish look about him.

You wait for the trio on the second-floor landing; Rory spots you first (“Babe!!”) and rushes up the last few steps before enveloping you in a big hug, the bags in her hands full of clinking wine bottles. You giggle and give her a big kiss on the cheek, “Is this overkill?” as you peek in her bags and find 7 bottles (2 Cabernet Sauvignons, 2 Sauvignon Blancs, 2 Beaujolais [that’s for you], and one bottle of Rosé).

Rory shrugs, “Didn’t know what everyone would like?”

“That’s why I brought tequila! Everyone hates tequila!” quips the stranger, beaming widely.

“…and tequila hates everyone,” you smile and introduce yourself while pulling Bea in for a hug.

“Poe! Poe Dameron! You must be Din’s girl. Must say, I can see what the fuss is all about,” he winks, “Guess it’s true what they say, beautiful girls only hang out with other beautiful girls.”

You’re so confused. The line is so cheesy. And you know about his flirting from the Mandos… but you’re not creeped out? Apparently you and your friends are not immune to Poe’s famous charm and earnest brown eyes and you suddenly understand what Din meant when he said you just can’t be mad at Poe.

“Dameron!” comes a shout at the top of the stairs; it’s Paz, with a look of impatience on his face. Unless you’re Paz, you chuckle to yourself.

“Sorry, Heavy P! Got distracted, I mean, even you can’t blame me,” Poe flashes his winning smile again before angling out his elbows and offering up his arms for any willing woman to take. Letting your friends have at it, you walk ahead and mouth to Paz as you get to the top, “Omigod. Heavy P?!?”

Paz rolls his eyes and shakes his head (“Lil’ Lady, don’t.”) before muttering, “I swear to god,” and holding out his hands to take the wine from Rory and the bags of food from Bea (which you now realize that Poe notably did not offer to help carry).

You enter the apartment as a comical looking group: Paz laden down with bags that he carries directly to the kitchen (scowling), you looking amused (eyes wide with a kind of astonishment at the scene that just played out), then Poe bringing up the rear, making a grand entrance with a beautiful woman on each arm, grandstanding like a debutant making her entrance at the cotillion. Al makes a beeline for Rory and Bea when he spots them, and they readily abandon Poe to greet the pup; you have to stifle a snicker when you see Poe’s look of disappointment at having been upstaged by a dog.

“Told you he’s a lot,” a voice whispers in your ear; you turn to find Din grinning at you. He gives you a little kiss on top of your head before going to greet and welcome your friends. Introductions are made and everyone gathers around the card table so that those who are playing can play, and everyone can chat, drink and eat. The Mandos are incredibly hospitable and warm towards your friends; you don’t know if it’s out of kindness to you and Din or just because they really are a friendly bunch, but it fills you with joy to see your friends so well taken care of. To no one’s surprise (not even Bea or Rory’s), Poe insists on pouring everyone a shot of the tequila he brought and plays deaf to people’s protests. Rory downs hers without complaint before going back to her cards; you wrinkle your nose in disgust at your shot and when Poe isn’t looking, Din drinks yours, and you see Mayfeld nonchalantly do the same for Bea. Poe just goes about his business, pouring himself more shots and chaotically raising bets while telling wild story after story about the people in the room (usually targeting the last person who called his hand). He’s entertaining for sure, and he's seems less interested in winning at poker than he is getting everyone to have a good time. It’s working. Poe’s energy is infectious and the tequila is effective - the party gets livelier and livelier as the evening goes on.

At a certain point, Woves and Paz nearly get into it after Poe (deliberately?) exposes his hand and everyone decides it’s a good time for a break so people can stretch and get more food. You and Bea flop down on the couch with your wine, and a few people, including Poe, come over to join you, “So, when are you going to come and meet my dad?”

“Why would she meet your dad?” Bea asks curiously.

You look at Poe, your eyes widening just a little, mouth open to interject but having no response ready. Without missing a beat, Poe says smoothly, “Oh, my dad and Din’s dad were best friends. Din’s basically family. My father’s favourite son.”

Bea laughs and you shoot Poe a grateful look, which he acknowledges only with the quickest of winks. Din comes over, catching the tail end of this exchange; he claps Poe on the back appreciatively before sitting down and throwing his arm around you, “I think I’m done for the night, pretty bird. Don’t have any more money for Rory to take.”

“Told you she’d clean you all out,” you giggle.

“I think both Bo and Paz are in love with her, too. I’m not getting in the middle of that, so I’m just going to hang out here with you for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but are you sure? I don’t want your friends to think that when I’m around, your attention is divided.”

“Oh, it’s not divided, sweetheart.” Smooth talker. But you can’t help but feel flushed at Din’s words.

“Ok, ew. Yeah, Dad is going to love you. He’s been wanting Din to settle down for forever and he deep down he loves this gooey stuff,” bemoans Poe, and the group cracks up.

When the card game looks like it’s going to start up again, Bea yawns a bit and announces she’s going to go hover over Rory to gently encourage her to cash out her winnings so they can head out soon. This reminds you that you have something for her, and you excuse yourself saying you’ll be right back.

When you emerge from the bedroom with the book you brought for Bea, you run into Din in the hallway; he’s leaning up against the wall, as if waiting for you.

“Hey you,” your smile easy and wide, reflective of how content you are with how this evening has gone.

Din moves towards you and using only his size advantage, crowds you against the wall he was just leaning against, then braces his forearm above you and peers down at you, “Hey pretty bird.”

You can’t help but let out a school girl giggle at this move.

Still holding your gaze, Din says in a low voice, “Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about in the kitchen before.”

Oh. So that’s what this little display is about; you’ve had a little time to think about it and you smile sheepishly, “Oh Din, I have to apologize for that. Like, the image of you kissing someone else only flashed across my mind for a second and it upset me so much! I shouldn’t have teased you with the same thing. I’m sorry.” You look up at Din with your most innocent, forgive-me eyes.

Din softens internally; he had been prepared to tease you mercilessly, but now looking down at you and feeling a little bad that you had been upset earlier, he’s tempted to let you off the hook. Maybe.

“Pretty bird, I’m sorry you had even a moment’s doubt and that it upset you; in case it’s not clear, I’m yours and yours only. There isn’t anyone else, baby. Couldn’t be anyone else.”

You melt under Din’s words and you want to make sure he knows how you feel too, “I feel the same way. You’re so sweet, and kind, and caring, I can’t believe you’re real sometimes. You make me so happy. There’s no one else for me but you, Din.”

“But,” Din leans in to whisper darkly in your ear, “if you were seeing other people…”

You gasp a little at the low edge to his voice. “…I would want to know who they were.” Din places a light kiss on your jaw before pulling back to move to the other side of your face and when he does, the expression you see on his face makes you shiver. “I’d want to make sure they were treating you right.” Another light kiss on your jaw. Switching back again to the other side to nuzzle just below your ear, he continues in his deep, sultry drawl, “But when it’s my time with you… I’d remind you of who you really belong to.”

Afraid of letting out a whimper, you bite down on your lower lip, eyes open wide while you take in Din’s words. “The things I would do to you would make you scream out my name until you couldn't speak, until you forget every other name but mine. And when I’m done, there wouldn’t be any doubt in that pretty head of yours that you belong to me, sweetheart.”

This time you do whimper out loud and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall can hear; at this, Din dips to kiss his way to your other ear and growls, “Mine.” You feel your panties dampen at his possessive words, the low timber of his voice making your knees buckle; Din catches you by wedging his thigh between your legs and you curl your arms under his to steady yourself. “Yours,” you whisper, “all yours, daddy.”

Din’s mouth is on yours in a flash, tongue gaining quick entrance as your soft moans escape without your permission. He drinks you in like a man parched, chasing your taste, unable to get enough. You match the pressing brush of his lips and the movement of his tongue, stroke for stroke; his possessive manner and almost jealous sounding tone unlocking a deep desire within you. It’s the same part of you that loves to be marked by his mouth, his hands, his cum; that part of your being that wants Din to claim you. You’re getting all the way lost in Din and the way he surrounds you when you drop the book you’re still holding for Bea and it makes a loud thud that silences the chattering voices on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, lovebirds! We can fucking hear you!” booms Paz.

“Looks like I’m not the horniest one for once!”

“Shut up, Dameron!” Din yells, but with a grin only for you, “Yeah, I’m kicking them all out now, pretty bird.”

Chuckling, you give Din a sweet kiss before picking up the book that gave you both away, “Don’t do that. We need to give Rory time to take all of Poe’s money.” Winking, you turn to blow Din a kiss before rounding the corner to a chorus of hoots and hollers.

---

Poker night has been so much fun, you’re almost sad it’s over. Everyone ate and loved the food you and the girls brought over; Mayfeld quietly apologizes for eating over 70% of the garlic knots and on behalf of everyone else who plan to politely demand that you supply the food for all future poker games. To no one’s surprise, Rory leaves the poker game the big winner, having taken nearly everyone’s money and also the hearts of both Paz and Bo. Jimmy and Brian encourage you to invite your friends to the next big fight, making sure to do so in Bea’s earshot. Woves and Koska, both wine drunk, fight over who gets to take Al out for his nighttime walk; a fight they both lose when Din steps in and declares clearly that Al’s late-night walks are spoken for. Poe, to (poorly) quote Pride and Prejudice, simpered and smirked all evening and made love to them all – you concede that the Mandos were right, he really is the life of the party.

After everyone leaves and you put your girls in a cab, you and Din set out on your nightly walk with Al. As you stroll through the neighbourhood, still bustling despite the late hour, you feel Din pull you closer into his side and you respond by hugging his waist and looking up adoringly at him, “I think Al had such a good time tonight, Din. Thank you for letting me bring him.”

“Of course. Al’s my boy. What about you, pretty bird? Did you have a good time?”

You nod truthfully, “I really did. I think everyone had such a good time and your friends were so, so nice to my friends.”

“Even Poe?”

“Especially Poe.” You both chuckle and continue the walk in comfortable silence for a bit. Deep in thought about the serious discussion the two of you had in the midst of all the fun tonight, Din wants to make sure you’re feeling okay, “How are you feeling about what we talked about? I know some of the stuff with Poe made you a bit uneasy.”

“Mmmhmm, I went to a bad head space for a bit, but you pulled me out. Thank you, Din,” you say, lightheartedly, your easy tone suggestive of having moved past it.

“I’m always here for you, pretty bird.”

“And I’m more than okay with what we talked about,” you add; it’s an innocent enough response, but now you’re thinking about how hot your conversation in the hallway was. Recalling Din’s dark expression as he talked about making you his has you squirming and you feel the warmth of your arousal start to seep through your panties. When you finally make it to the sidewalk outside of the gym, you decide to broach the topic again.

“Din?”

“Yes, baby?”

You consider how to ask for what you want, “When we get home, do you think you can.. I want you to… do what you said in the hallway?”

Din tilts his head slightly to convey he’s not sure what you mean.

Suddenly shy, the words spill out in a hurry, “I want you act like I’m seeing other people, and then I want you to fuck me hard until I forget that anyone exists but you.”

Realization hits Din like a freight train and he’s overcome by his need to have you right now, “Is that what you want, pretty bird? You want me to make you scream my name so many times you don’t need to know any one else’s?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, “Fuck me and claim me, daddy.”

“Holy fu-, I can do that. But tonight, I’m not your daddy. You only call me by my name. Got it, pretty bird?”

Wordlessly, you nod again.

“Good girl. Now get upstairs.”

Go to: Ch. 11 Addendum - After The Poker Game

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern!din djarin #modern au #din djarin fluff

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blueraineshadows · 2 years ago

Text

Brothers Part Ten

Garreth Weasley 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two Weasley brothers. Oscar is an OC created by @eternalremorse and used with her permission.

NSFW 🔞

Chapter Master List / Ao3 Link

Chapter Ten - Being Honest With Yourself

Huddled in a thick robe, woolly hat and scarf, MC shivered and clasped her gloved hands as she sat in the Hufflepuff stands of the Quidditch stadium. The game was fast-paced and energetic, the teams all pink cheeked from the November chill as Gryffindor faced Hufflepuff.

Poppy was seated beside her, wrapped up snug in Sebastian's Slytherin scarf, her little nose peeking over the top of it, the tip all pink from the cold. She was cheering on their house, of course, and MC was conflicted. Her house needed the points badly. However, Oscar played for the opposition. Of course, she was here for him, but it had not gone unnoticed that she had not worn his Gryffindor scarf today, choosing a chunky knit one instead. When he had pointed it out, his handsome face falling in disappointment, she had claimed it was for house loyalty reasons. The truth was a little different. She was trying to blend in. Hiding was the better word for it.

Ever since Oscar had been signed for the Montrose Magpies, he had become even more popular. His photograph in the sports section of the Daily Prophet had earned him a legion of new fans outside of the school grounds, and students were approaching him for autographs and wanting to chat with him.

This was all very lovely, and Oscar was thrilled. However, MC was not enamoured as much. Being noticed in his company had started the chatter about her known deeds in 5th year again, and this was not something she was comfortable with. She was not a hero. People calling her such merely grated on her already tense nerves, and she wanted no part of that fame. It stirred up memories she would rather forget, called forward the bad dreams that plagued her sleep, and added to the ever-present anxiousness that made her chest tight.

The other side effect of Oscar's popularity was the increase in admirers of the female variety. There was new graffiti on the desks and in the girls bathrooms. MC was forced to read the declarations of affection for Oscar on a daily basis, and come face to face with simpering girls who asked dreamily for his autograph.

The charming gentleman that Oscar was, he spoke to each and every one, signing his name and bestowing that handsome smile upon them. MC could only stand by and watch, feeling invisible and completely out of her depth.

As Oscar swooped through the sky above the Hogwarts pitch, she knew he had a bright future ahead of him, and how could she begrudge him that. She didn't. But the extras that came with it were beginning to grind her down.

Perhaps the excited, hushed chatter going on behind her right now was adding to her anxiety. It certainly aided in her resentment of his new found fame. Two Hufflepuff girls, fifth years she suspected, were giggling and admiring Oscar.

"Just look at him," one sighed dreamily. "I wish I had the courage to approach him, by all accounts he is so very lovely."

"Yes, I heard he smiles and winks at the girls," the other said. "I want my newspaper cut out signed so I can put it beside my bed."

The first girl giggled. "Imagine having the real thing beside your bed, or better yet, in your bed."

"If only, what I would give for one kiss. Too bad he is with the Hero of Hogwarts. Lucky bitch."

They both giggled again and MC felt her stomach churn and the delicate flutters of panic tightened her chest. Was this how it would be from now on? Would she always be hated for being with him? Would she always be in fear that he would be tempted by so many offers of company?

The worry was exhausting. It was draining what strength she had left after hiding from her own guilt. Her guilt of how much Garreth invaded her thoughts.

Pushing Garreth from her mind, she swallowed hard against nausea. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't face sitting here listening to the girls drool over Oscar like that. As she considered the idea of feigning illness and making her escape, a roar of noise exploded from the Gryffindor stands. MC glanced across the pitch and put her hands to her mouth.

The game was over. Jamie Ambrose, the blonde Gryffindor Seeker, was hovering in the air, his arm raised with the Golden Snitch fluttering in his hand. His team mates rushed to congratulate him, circling him on their brooms, all grinning and pumping their fists.

The groans of disappointment from the Hufflepuff students sounded around her, but she ignored them, her eyes on Oscar as he turned to search her out in the crowd, blowing her a kiss that she held out her hand for and pretended to catch. It was these moments that kept her hanging on, the moments when Oscar's charm and attention swept her off her feet, time and again. She could never resist it.

She heard gasps behind her. "Merlin’s beard. Did you see that? Oscar Weasley is blowing kisses to us!"

Her smile faltered, and she dropped her hand. It was like ice being thrown at the back of her neck. She allowed the fantasy to play out in her head, spinning around and pulling off her woolly hat so that these girls could see who she was. She could stamp her foot and yell at them, point her wand and tell them to close their silly, simpering mouths. He was hers! Oscar Weasley was hers!

It was fantasy. A foolish whimsy that she had no intention of even attempting to do. Childish and petty behaviour was not becoming, and she almost blushed in shame. Is this what she had been reduced to?

What if her relationship with Oscar was based on such fancy? Maybe she was playing a fool's game being with him? Old insecurities were morphing into new ones, but they all had the same theme.

There wouldn't be a happy ending. People always left and she always ended up alone somehow, it had been the same all her life.

Offering Poppy a quick goodbye, MC pushed her way through the throng of students and made her way down to the ground. The temptation to sneak away, make a quick exit, and just disappear back into the castle was so tempting. But her feet led her to the pitch and Oscar's waiting arms.

The team was being swamped with cheering students, girls giggling and waving, hoping for a smile or even a hug from the boys. There was only one girl on the Gryffindor team, and she was sensibly keeping away from it all. The Captain, Isaac Cooper, was lapping up the attention, his arm around a very pretty Ravenclaw who was looking rather pleased to be squished against him.

As she searched the crowd, her eyes met with the dark, sly gaze of Trixie. She looked beautiful, of course, her smirk aimed at MC as she lifted a knowing eyebrow. Trixie's threat to tell Oscar that there was something more between Garreth and herself made MC clench her hands into fists. The weight of it pressed down over her head, and she tore her gaze away from the cunning Slytherin girl. She shouldn't let Trixie get to her.

MC stood on tiptoe, a glint of red hair coming in to view as Oscar pressed through the excited cheering and spotted her, hurrying forward with his broom still in his hand. He laughed and wrapped his arm about her waist, holding her close and lifting her easily, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.

"Do I get a celebratory kiss from my girl?"

The sound of cooing and awe inspired sighs came from behind her at his words. Could they not get a moment of privacy? Apparently not. What could she do but oblige? She bent to press her mouth to his, their lips meeting in a warm touch, and a flash of light exploded beside them.

They broke the kiss, turning in surprise to see a Daily Prophet reporter and photographer beaming at them, a huge wizarding world camera still smoking from taking the image.

"That is going to make the front page of the sporting section," the reporter said, a smug smile on his face. His eyes gleamed as he swept his hand across the air. "Quidditch rising star and the Hero of Hogwarts in love! Utter perfection!"

"No!" MC said, shaking her head. Her fingers bit into Oscar's shoulders. "Don't put that in the paper, please."

"Oh, come now. Don't be shy! The readers will love it," he said.

MC struggled out of Oscar's grip and he let her down, a worried frown on his face. "What is it?"

She looked at him, irritated. "This doesn't bother you? They took a picture of us kissing!"

He almost shrugged, confusion mixing in with his unconcerned look as he turned his gaze from the reporter and back to her. "It's just a photo, MC. It won't hurt anyone."

"It won't hurt you," she muttered.

His brow creased and he reached for her again but she stepped back. Did he really not see the invasion of privacy this was? It was bad enough that the other students bore witness to their displays of affection, something that she had always struggled with, but this? The whole Wizarding World who cared to peruse the sports pages would see them kissing. Her cheeks burned and she felt tears sting her eyes. It bothered her, and she wasn't entirely sure why, she just hated the thought of it being on show.

She needed to get away and be alone. She needed to escape. The panic was sinking its teeth into her chest, gnawing and clawing and she felt her lungs burn as she tried to breathe through it.

"I... I need to go," she said, eyes darting for an escape route. "Enjoy this time with your team mates..."

Oh, she hated the flash of disappointment in his lovely eyes as she backed up and brushed him off. How many times did she do this to him? As much as she hated the thought of losing him to another's arms, she was doing a good job of pushing him away.

She turned, unable to meet his gaze any longer and began to push through the crowd. Almost free, the lawn in sight and beyond that, the castle. Sanctuary. A hand grabbed her arm and she spun, Oscar right there, eyes pleading. He had followed her.

"Please don't go. Why are you running away? It was just a photo. Do you hate being seen with me that much?"

His words made her wince, her heart aching as she tried to find the words to explain it.

"It's not so much you, it's what being in the spotlight does to me," she said.

He frowned. "I know you're shy, MC. But, it's just a photo. Is it really so bad to be seen with me? What happens when I start playing for the Magpies? Will you avoid me then too?"

She stared at him, at a loss for what to say. She was too scared to think that far ahead, the future outside of Hogwarts looming up before her, uncertain and honestly, daunting.

"It's the hero stuff. I hate it when they call me that. Being seen with you drags it all up again."

The honesty of the words lay heavy on her tongue. His gaze softened and he urged her closer, tugging gently on her arm as he cupped her face.

"You were a hero though. All that you did for the school and the fight against dark wizards... MC, you're so strong, so amazing..."

"No!" She pulled out of his touch, the panic squeezing as she remembered all the pain, the death... the loss. Her voice shook with emotion, the anguish that she had tried to keep buried. "I'm not amazing, neither am I a hero... what happened last year... you don't understand."

She couldn't speak of it, her throat closing against the horrible truth. Garreth's horrified face flashed up behind her eyes, his reaction to her ability to steal life had been like a cruel twist of a knife in her heart. To see that in Oscar's eyes, to lose the warm way he looked at her...

She stared at him and saw the way his face tightened, his jaw clenching.

"No, I don't understand," he said flatly. He withdrew from her, arms falling to his sides. "How can I when you won't talk to me? I've tried so hard to get you to open up, to tell me more, but you throw a cold wall up in my face every time I do."

She flinched. The truth of his words were like chunks of ice in her stomach. She did shut him out, she knew she did.

"I can't help it," she said softly, tears threatening.

He huffed a cold, unamused attempt at a laugh. "Oh, I think you can, MC. I'm sure Sallow knows everything there is to know about what goes on in that beautiful head of yours," he said bitterly.

"That's different. He was there..."

"And I'm here now," he snapped, cutting her off. His eyes flashed with something, a passion that looked suspiciously like anger and she clamped her mouth shut, staring up at him. "I'm right here, waiting for you to open up and show me who you really are. I want to know, MC. But somehow, it just feels like we kiss a whole lot, but that's all. Even my brother knows you better than I do."

He looked away then, his fists clenching and his jaw working as he fought against his temper. Her chest constricted with a flutter of fear. Oh Merlin, did he know? Cold horror swept through her. Did he suspect she harboured a softness for Garreth? Had Trixie told him what she saw?

"What... what do you mean?" She asked carefully.

He lifted his gaze, eyes blazing. "I hate that you can be yourself around the likes of Sallow and my brother, and yet you hold back from me. You can trust me, MC."

"Can I?"

The question slipped from her lips before she could stop them, her eyes widening in shock at herself. His eyes widened too, and she could see the hurt in them. Her tears escaped, leaking from her eyes to trace the curve of her cheeks.

"Im sorry," she whispered.

She was no hero. Heroes didn't run. And she ran. She turned her back on the pain flashing on his face and let her feet take her far away from it.

....

The changing rooms were always a hive of chatter and excitement after winning a match. Oscar tried to join in with the celebrations, but behind his smile he was hiding the hurt that stung a lot more than he had expected. He didn't usually get in too deep with girls, but MC had him caught up in something that was new and surprising. This time he had feelings, real ones, and he was trying to get a grasp on himself at the sting of her departure.

She really didn't trust him, her simple query confirming his suspicion that she was deliberately holding back from him. It hurt. It cut him deeper than he liked. His chest ached with the knowledge that she wasn't prepared to open up to him, which meant that for a girl like her, she wasn't going to warm his bed as he had hoped. All the time she didn't trust him, that was never going to happen. With that ache of disappointment came a fear. For the first time in his life, he was scared he was about to lose a girl.

Fuck. He was in deep, deeper than he had realised. He didn't want to lose her. What frightened him most of all was the unfamiliar feeling that he suspected was love.

Did he love her? And was he about to lose her?

These were the questions that tormented him as he prepared to shower and change, braving a smile and laughing along with the others as though he had his life all in order, whilst inside he realised he was clueless about how to handle this.

Hair still damp from the shower, he put the last of his gear away and grabbed his robe.

"Everything alright, Weasley? You don't seem yourself."

Isaac came to stand beside him, leaning his shoulder against the lockers with his arms folded, his dark hair also damp from the showers. Oscar let his gaze travel over his best friend, the confidence and strength that oozed from him suddenly something to envy. Oscar wasn't feeling so confident right now, and it irked him. As a pair, they were formidable, the envy of the other teams and it felt good to be the boys on top. This uncertainty was pulling him down, making him question himself. Was he a bad person? He always tried to be decent, well mannered, and he knew he could charm a young lady. But, delving into the realms of love and relationships was new territory for him. Perhaps he wasn't so good at it.

He sighed and shook his head. "Girl trouble."

Isaac smirked. "Since when has that ever been a problem for you before? Is it your little Hufflepuff? I thought you and her were getting on rather well."

Oscar closed his locker and picked up his bag. "So did I, but since things have got hectic with Quidditch stuff she has been pulling away a bit. We, er... we had a fight after the match. She doesn't like all this new attention."

"So, she is jealous?"

Oscar frowned. "I'm not convinced it's jealousy. It's something more than that."

"This is why I just fuck girls and don't let feelings get in the way. I know where I am with a roll in the sheets," Isaac said, shaking his head. "When you start adding deeper stuff into the mix, it gets complicated. I mean, what will happen when you leave school and start touring? Is she going to wait for you?"

Oscar felt his stomach sink even lower. He met Isaac's piercing blue eyes. "I doubt it."

Isaac's face twisted with a knowing but sympathetic look. He put his hand on Oscar's shoulder. "Maybe you need to cut her loose, Os, before one of you gets hurt."

Oscar hung his head. Normally, cutting a girl loose was nothing. Easy. But with MC, the very thought of it made him want to shut everything down. He didn't want to cut her loose. She felt too good in his arms. And if he did, what then?

He had the sneaking fear that if she was set free, his brother would catch her with open, waiting arms.

"You make it sound so easy," he grumbled.

Isaac stared at him a moment. "Bloody hell, Weasley. This isn't just a fling is it? You really like her."

"She isn't like all the other girls, Issac. It's different with her."

"Have you bedded her yet?"

Oscar shook his head. "We have fooled around a bit, but no, nothing as lovely as that yet."

Isaac nodded thoughtfully. "Is she a virgin? I'm surprised Sallow didn't dip his wick in there."

Oscar frowned. "Yes, she is, and do you mind? I'd rather not have that image in my head, thanks."

Isaac chuckled and gave him a light shove. "Fuck, you have got it bad, Weasley."

Isaac grew thoughtful as they headed towards the exit. "All joking aside, I'm sorry it's not working out how you thought. In all seriousness, if you think it's not going to work out with her, then maybe splitting would be best. I mean, if she is that innocent, then don't take it from her and hurt her afterwards. I know I mess girls around sometimes, but I'm always upfront about it. If feelings are getting caught up, then you need to tread carefully. For both of your sakes."

It was actually reasonable advice as much as Oscar hated to hear it. The thought of breaking it off with her was almost impossible to imagine. How would he find the words when he didn't have them? He would rather find the words to keep her at his side than lose her. Covering his discomfort, he eyed his friend with a playful look.

"Since when did you get so wise about relationships, Cooper?"

Isaac grinned and shrugged. "I'm not just a pretty face."

....*....

Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Garreth took a drink of water and caught his breath, allowing the cool breeze drifting in through the great doorway to cool his flushed skin. Sebastian had hardly broken a sweat, his demeanour one of relaxed confidence as he joined Garreth on the stone steps that ran the length of the clock tower entrance hall.

"You're getting better at this, you know," Sebastian said. He twirled his wand and gave Garreth a grin. "Where do you suppose you will be putting these new duelling skills to good use? Should we expect you to sign up for Crossed Wands any time soon?"

Garreth huffed a laugh and shook his head. While he was enjoying these duelling practise sessions with Sebastian, he quite liked the fact that it was between the two of them and nobody else. He wasn't learning to join clubs and show off with it. The threat of being caught out by poachers again was the driving force behind these lessons. That, and wanting to be able to protect MC, which was daft considering how powerful she could be. It felt important to him, though.

"Unlikely, I'm not going to sign myself up for a guaranteed loss in Crossed Wands. I will stick with potions," he said. He chewed thoughtfully at his lip. "I just wanted to know how to defend myself properly, especially if I was going to be around MC a lot more. However, I have hardly seen her lately. I get the feeling she is avoiding me. I pushed a bit too much in Hogsmeade I reckon."

Sebastian gave a little sigh and shook his head. "It's not just you she is avoiding, it's everyone. Don't worry, she will come around."

"I hope so. I miss her," he said, brooding a little. He wished he had Sebastian's confidence. Potions was the only time he could really be close to her, and even then she was hesitant around him, the closeness they gained seemingly shifting backwards to the shyness that had been there when she first came to the school. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him, and there was something soft in her gaze, but she lowered her eyes and pulled back. It left him with a longing that stayed with him for the rest of the day.

"And as for the Crossed Wands thing, give it a try," Sebastian said, nudging him with his elbow. His grin was sly, mischievous. "It's just a bit of fun, and as for a guaranteed loss, that doesn't stop Prewett from having a go. Don't tell him I said this, but he has got better. It's the practise. It keeps you on your game."

Garreth gave him a considering look. "A bit like with girls then, I suppose."

Sebastian's grin widened. "Absolutely. Don't give up on MC. Hang in there, and stay away from McNair."

Garreth shuddered. "Oh, I intend to stay away from that one. Her eyes see too much."

"What does that mean?" Sebastian asked, brow dipping curiously.

Garreth bit his lip. "Well, there was a moment, between MC and I. It was outside the Three Broomsticks, and... well, nothing happened, but Trixie saw us and guessed far too close to the truth. She suspects something and threatened to expose it to Oscar."

Sebastian's face twisted into a grimace and he shook his head. "Yeah, she is a sly one. I would be careful. However, she probably won't do anything unless there is something in it for her."

Gareeth nodded, his stomach twisting up at the thought of getting into a fight with Oscar. He had pushed his luck in Hogsmeade, had sampled a taste of what it would be like to flirt with MC, and her warmth had surrounded him, coaxed that ever present fire he felt for her. As much as he didn't want to let that fire go, Oscar was his brother and he did not want to hurt him.

Trixie could cause so much trouble, and with MC avoiding him, he was rather apprehensive about the whole thing. All in a room together might be rather awkward, and his birthday was fast approaching, a get together planned to celebrate.

"Let's hope Trixie doesn't turn up for my birthday party," he said, getting to his feet. "I'd rather not have any drama if it can be helped."

Sebastian stood too, smirk present. "Don't worry about your birthday, Weasley. It's all in hand."

"Should I be worried?"

"Just don't make any plans for the day after," Sebastian chuckled. "I reckon you might need some recovery time. Especially if we knock up some extra special brews beforehand."

Garreth smirked at the way Sebastian's eyebrows wiggled mischievously. It wasn't everyday a wizard turned seventeen. He would be of age, and that was a perfect excuse for a party.

"As long as MC is there, then I will be happy," he said.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove. "You soft git."

They packed up the training dummy and spoke some more about party plans, Sebastian promising to chat to MC about it. Garreth hadn't been joking. He wanted her there, more than anyone else, regardless of anything else. Including Oscar.

....*....

The coolness of the Undercroft was calming and it helped to keep MC's head clear as she studied. The only sound was the scratch of her quill as she made her notes, grateful for the peace away from distractions. She was avoiding people today, mostly in the form of Weasley boys.

Oscar had been trying to catch a moment with her since their disagreement the other day, but she had been side stepping the inevitable. She didn't have the words to sort through the confusing mess inside her head, and Poppy was despairing of her. MC had pushed up against her friend's pleas to speak to Oscar, ignored her advice and sad eyes, burying her nose into her books or her pillow. She felt bad, really she did. Poor Poppy was only trying to help, and being the good friend that she was, she dutifully went to the common room door to turn a pleading Oscar away with some excuse.

MC stubbornly avoided the tangled web of emotions and shifting thoughts. If she examined them too closely, she feared what truth she would uncover.

Guilt. That was a big one. And she was hiding from that too. Hiding from betraying thoughts.

Being around Garreth meant remembering their flirtatious dancing. It meant pondering over what he had been about to say before Trixie had interrupted them. As much as she tried to ignore it, the curiosity lingered and she couldn't help but poke at it. It was very difficult to stay away from Garreth, and this was why she was secreted away in the Undercroft. A safe haven that none of them knew about.

Apart from Sebastian and Ominis, of course.

The gate opened revealing the arrival of one the Slytherin boys, a glance over her shoulder revealing it to be Sebastian. He smiled as he approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder as he plonked himself down on a chair beside her.

"There you are. You've been hiding again," he grinned. "Lover boy was looking for you."

She frowned. "I thought he was at practise this morning."

Sebastian's smile widened, his eyes impish. "I wasn't talking about that one."

MC sighed and rolled her eyes, looking down at her notes as her cheeks warmed. Not this again. As if it wasn't hard enough to keep her mind off Garreth, Sebastian was all over it. "You're not funny, Seb."

"Oh, but I am," he teased. He dropped the latest Daily Prophet in front of her, open at the magical symbol puzzle of the day. "You're slacking, MC. Come on, I miss our little challenge. It's been days since you did one."

She groaned and picked up the paper. "I know, Seb. I'm sorry. I just haven't been in the mood."

His expression grew thoughtful as he gazed at her, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. "I don't like seeing you like this," he said, quietly. "You are not yourself. You are hiding away from your friends down here. I miss you, and I know where you are! Imagine how it feels for them."

She turned to him. "I thought you would be far too busy with Poppy to miss me."

His smile was soft. "I am, but that doesn't mean I don't miss you. You're the one who helps Ominis keep me in line. Poppy isn't so good at that. In fact, I would go so far as to say she is a bad influence on me."

MC huffed a laugh at that. It did sound like Poppy. She reached out to take his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I hope you're not getting into too much trouble now."

He squeezed her hand back. "What if I told you that Garreth and I are working on a new potion idea after the success of the energy drink."

"I would say I am mildly concerned," she replied, her lips twitching with a smile.

He chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Are you going to Garreth's birthday party?"

She dipped her gaze with a flicker of uncertainty. The party was all anyone could talk about lately. Another reason she was hiding away. The last party had ended with Garreth touching her face and telling her she was the prettiest girl in the school. She wasn't sure if she could handle any more moments like those, and yet it was his birthday. She had a gift for him, and had thought to see him earlier on his birthday, in private, and skip the party all together.

It was also a reason to avoid having to watch girls throwing themselves at Oscar. It was exhausting, and she knew she would have to face him sometime, but not yet.

"You have to come, MC," Sebastian said, his hand giving hers another squeeze. "Garreth will be upset if you don't."

Sebastian didn't know every secret in her heart, but she was sure he had figured a lot out for himself. His little jokes about Garreth being her other lover boy had some meaning behind them, and the pair had been hanging about together a lot. If Garreth had said anything, Sebastian hadn't revealed it, but he always had positive things to say about his new Gryffindor friend. His eyes watched carefully as he talked Garreth up, as though gauging her reaction. She tried to be careful, but Sebastian could read her like a book.

He was right, though. How could she miss Garreth's birthday party? She would be sad if it was the other way around.

She nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it. It's not every day a wizard comes of age."

Sebastian brightened and stood. "Excellent. Right, I shall leave you in peace now that I know you are alive and well." He leaned over and tapped the newspaper, his playful eyes on hers. "I want to see your completed puzzle by the end of the day. Don't let me down now."

She gave him a firm salute and he laughed, bending to press a fond kiss to her forehead before strolling towards the exit, whistling a low tune as he went.

Watching him leave, she felt a warmth around her heart, grateful for him. Just those few minutes had lifted her mood and she turned back to her notes with a small smile.

But, the Daily Prophet was folded right there, accusing her, and she reached out to pull the newspaper closer. She had not been doing the daily puzzle, and not because she had been moody or busy. It was just another form of avoidance. Today's paper had no images of Oscar, but the one printed after the Quidditch match had published the photo of her kissing him on the pitch.

Hero of Hogwarts and rising Quidditch star in love. A picture of them kissing and an article written full of half truths about them, gossip gathered from other people after her refusal to be a part of it. Her request to not use the photo had been ignored, and she hated that the whole world had seen it.

Someone had cut out the photo and pinned it to the Hufflepuff common room notice board, charmed it with floating hearts, too. She had wanted to rip it down, but Poppy had stopped her.

All of it. Her emotions, the gossip, the newspaper article, and the heavy burden of the hero status, it all seemed to be pressing down on top of her. At some point she was going to break, and she knew that the only way to start fixing it was to speak to Oscar.

She just had to figure out what it meant in her head, and how she was going to say it.

....*....

That evening, after dinner, MC was on her bed reading when Poppy came in with a beaming smile. She came to sit on MC’s bed and gave her an enquiring look.

"You didn't speak to Oscar today, did you?"

MC bit her lip and shook her head, almost wincing at Poppy’s sigh.

"You really need to speak to him, MC. It can't go on like this. He was looking for you at dinner again."

MC shifted and avoided Poppy’s gaze. She was right. Of course she was. It wasn't easy to hide from someone, despite the size of the castle, there was only so many places you could go.

"I will speak with him. I promise."

Poppy looked worried, her hand reaching out to hold MC's. "Do you not want to be with him anymore?"

MC closed her book with a sigh and shrugged. "I don't know. Surely it shouldn't be this hard to be with someone. You aren't like this over Sebastian. What am I doing wrong?"

"Only you can answer that, MC. It's your choice. If it really doesn't feel right, then you shouldn't let it drag on. It's not fair on either of you. I don't like seeing you this way."

Had Sebastian not said the same thing earlier today? Her friends were talking sense and maybe she should listen. She nodded and gave Poppy’s hand a squeeze.

"This might be bad timing, but I need a favour," Poppy asked. Her cheeks flushed pink and her smile was sheepish. "I need you to cover for me tonight."

"Tonight? Why, what are you doing?"

Poppy bit her lip and took a deep breath. "I'm going to sleep in the Slytherin dorm tonight. With Sebastian."

The silence that followed felt so heavy. MC stared at Poppy in shock. Was this not too soon? MC loved Sebastian, dearly, but he was still a boy. What if it wasn't right and they were rushing in to this? Would Poppy end up discarded and hurt if it failed?

"Are you sure about this?" She asked carefully.

Poppy immediately nodded, her mouth fighting against a smile. "I'm ready, MC. This is what I want. He is just..."

Poppy's eyes drifted into a dreamy gaze as she sighed, her face softening in such a way that MC felt a sudden stab of envy. She fought against it, trying to smile with at least some encouragement for her friend. But all she could think about was her own failure when it came to this kind of intimacy. Should she not be day dreaming about sneaking into Oscar's bed, craving the same intimacy?

All she did was flinch away from it. Clearly, she wasn't as ready as Poppy. Or, she wasn't with the right person. The thought was like a bucket of ice and she felt her lips freeze into what must be an unnatural smile.

"Then I am happy for you," she said, her voice a little strained. "Of course I will cover for you."

Poppy squealed and leant forward to pull her into a hug, her excitement lighting her eyes and deepening her lovely blush. MC's envy felt bitter and slippery as she swallowed it down.

"Thank you, MC. And, of course, I will gladly return the favour one day," she said. She squeezed MC's cold hands, her eyes pleading. "Please, talk to Oscar. I do hope you can fix whatever is wrong."

MC nodded and kept her smile firmly in place. As she watched Poppy prepare for her evening, going to bathe and packing her toothbrush, MC knew that wallowing here was not an option. Her failure was her own. Envy was pointless. It solved nothing.

It was time to talk to Oscar.

....*....

The chess board was before him, but Oscar wasn't really seeing the pieces, his mind was elsewhere and he was getting his arse kicked. He blinked and looked up, Elijah's blue eyes gazing at him with a curious frown, the common room's warm glow highlighting his dark hair.

"You're mind isn't really on the game, is it, Os?" He said. His team mate and fellow Beater looked concerned. "Is everything alright?"

Oscar sighed and leant back in his chair, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shook his head.

"Sorry, Elijah. You're right, my head is somewhere else," he said.

MC was always on his mind, the frustration at not being able to speak to her eating at him. He'd given up asking for her at her common room entrance, not able to take another sheepish apology from Poppy, or whoever else was sent to turn him away. He hadn't been able to catch her between classes with their schedules, and he suspected she had been deliberately avoiding the chance of bumping into him. No sign of her in the library or the Great Hall.

It was obvious she didn't want to see him, and judging by the miserable look on Garreth’s face, he hadn't seen much of her either. At least that was some small comfort he supposed.

He eyed his friend, Elijah, thinking for a moment. Perhaps some friendly conversation would take his mind off things where the chess game was clearly failing. "How are things with you and your young lady, Eli?"

Elijah's eyes clouded with a shadow that he shifted fairly quickly, fluffing his hair as he shrugged. "Not my young lady anymore. We broke up."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Oscar said.

"It was for the best," Elijah said. He bent his head over the board and studied the pieces. "Sometimes things aren't meant to be."

Oscar rubbed his chin and was reminded of his chat with Isaac, the idea of things ending between him and MC still not something he wanted to consider, and yet her refusal to even see him the last few days didn't bode well.

"So, is that you sworn off ladies for the foreseeable, or do you have someone else in mind?" Oscar asked.

"I haven't really thought about it." Elijah's cheeks turned a little pink and he shifted in his seat. Oscar noted the tells and a knowing smirk lifted his lips. The boy had someone in mind, and Oscar had a feeling he knew who it was. "Not even our new Chaser? She's a pretty little thing."

Elijah's blush deepened and Oscar grinned. He knew it. Well, he hoped Elijah had the nerve to make a move. Their new Chaser had been watching Elijah at practise and Oscar had the feeling she would say yes if Elijah asked her out.

To see a friend find some happiness would take some of the edge from his own worries.

"Hey, Oscar!"

He turned at the call of his name to see Leander entering the common room, his arm lifted in a wave.

"Oscar, MC is out in the corridor. She is asking for you," Leander called.

Oscar stilled and then his heart began to race. She was here. Relief buzzed through him as he got up from his chair, muttering a quick goodbye to Elijah, but as he crossed the room that relief turned into nerves.

What if she was here to end it?

He pushed the thought down, he couldn't think like that, and he hurried through the portrait hole and out into the corridor.

MC was standing to one side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, face pale and drawn as she looked towards him. There were dark shadows under her eyes and she looked sad, for want of a better word. His heart constricted as he moved slowly towards her, arms just aching to scoop her up and hold her, but he feared to push her.

"Hello," he said, eyeing her warily.

Her eyes were soft as she gazed up at him. "Hello, Oscar," she replied. Her lips curved upwards into a tentative smile. "How are you?"

"Missing you," he blurted.

She bit her lip, a subtle darkening of her eyes being swiftly hidden as she blinked, her face wincing slightly. She moved forward, her hand reaching to grip the front of his robes, her forehead pressing into his chest.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Immediately, his arms were around her, crushing her to him in hug so tight he heard her gasp, but he buried his head into her, determined to not let go. The scent of her surrounded him, his nose in her hair and his fingers gripping the back of her robe. It felt so bloody good to hold her again. Even better when he felt her arms wind around him to hold him back.

"Can we talk?" She asked, her voice muffled against his robe.

"Of course," he replied, fighting back the nagging feeling that this was the beginning of the end.

....*....

A storage room served as somewhere private for them to talk, away from prying eyes and ears. As Oscar closed the door behind him, MC turned to look at him. She had plucked up the courage to come and find him after Poppy had left for the Slytherin dormitory, needing to clear the air. She was still unsure how to go about this, her thoughts uncertain and the words she needed to say kept slipping away from her.

It didn't help that whenever she looked at him, at those gorgeous, blue eyes, she just seemed to become speechless, her body taking over and responding to him. Seeing him come out of the entrance to his common room after avoiding him had brought forth a rush of feeling she had not expected. His admission that he missed her had rung true with her own feelings. She realised that she had missed him too. The question was how much in comparison.

"I'm sorry I ran from you after the match," she began, nervously twisting her hands together. "I shouldn't have just run away. I was just... overwhelmed."

"Because of the photo?"

She nodded, finding it hard to meet his gaze. "Yes, in part. The photo was printed despite my request for them not to. It was an invasion of privacy, and it dragged up all the events from last year as I feared it would. I don't see how any of that has much to do with your Quidditch accomplishments."

He moved towards her, concern on his face. "I know I snapped at you over your concerns, and for that I apologise, but it's hard for me to be supportive when you shut me out, MC."

He had a point. "It's hard for me to talk about it. It was... traumatic, and I'm still trying to deal with the consequences."

"Let me help you," he said, reaching for her. She flinched back a little, and he hesitated, eyes sad. "I want to help you. MC, you mean a lot to me... I care about you."

Meeting his eyes, she swallowed hard. Knowing he felt that way made this even harder, trying to explain how distant she felt from him was difficult enough without knowing that she was likely to hurt him.

He sighed, face fighting against disappointment. "You don't believe me, do you?"

She turned and fiddled with her hair, chest tightening with the familiar tight band of panic. Did she? She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. This would all be so much easier if she did.

"I'm struggling with all of this," she admitted. "I don't know the first thing about relationships, this is all new and daunting, and I am feeling my way along. I enjoy your company, Oscar, I do. But its not easy to share it with so many other obstacles."

"Obstacles? Like what?"

She looked at him, biting her lip. "Your reputation proceeds you. It's scratched into desk tops and bathroom stall walls. Girls linger around you waiting for a smile or a word, while I flounder along beside you feeling completely out of my depth."

She cringed and put her hands to her face. The words sounded so pathetic and silly once said aloud, and she wished she could take them back. It was hard to look at him, fearing to see what would be on his face at such a confession. She turned her back to him, leaning against a table near the wall as she tried to fight down the panic clawing at her throat.

"MC, I'm sorry. I really am," Oscar said, lingering behind her. "I had no idea you felt this way."

She kept her back to him, leaning against the table and trying to keep her breathing steady. She knew that if she looked into those eyes she would melt, that he would make her forget about the worries that clung to her thoughts. It was becoming exhausting, draining her gradually, day by day. Trying to keep ahead of her confusing tumble of emotions and doing the right thing was getting harder and harder.

He did sound genuinely sorry. Maybe she was being so hard on him because of her own guilt. The unfairness of it all was like a slinking shadow that lurked in the recesses, waiting to dance with her guilt. She hung her head, shoulders defeated.

"I know you are," she said quietly. "It's not easy though, being your girlfriend, waiting in the wings for another to come and tempt you away..."

"That is not going to happen, MC," he said, his voice much closer now. There was almost a pleading edge to his tone as she felt his presence at her back. "You're the only one I want. Please, trust me."

A soft hitch in her breath made her close her eyes as she felt his hand at her waist, his touch gentle as he moved even closer. Her hair fluttered near her ear, teased by the warmth of his mouth as he whispered so close to her skin.

"I want you, and only you."

A shiver travelled along her spine, rational thought seemingly disintegrating as her head subtly tilted. He took the invitation, lips pressing at her neck, soft and teasing as his hand slid around to splay out across her stomach. She felt the firm press of his body at her back, solid and warm, her softness immediately responding and pushing back against him.

Like always, one look, one touch, and she was as malleable as clay in his hands.

Tiny flutters erupted in her belly, her hands flat against the table top began to grip, her fingers bending upwards as she pressed the tips more firmly into the wood.

"Someone could walk in here at any moment," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

She felt him shift against her and then the softly muttered words of a locking charm, the tell tale click of the lock. Anticipation sung through her veins as his hand slid higher up her midriff, his other hand pocketing his wand before coming to rest against her hip.

"Now, I have you all to myself," he taunted, lips grazing her ear. His palm cupped her breast, thumb seeking out a peak through the layers of her clothing and she bit her lip, breathing fast enough to part her lips. "Let me show you how much you mean to me. The things I want to do to you..."

She gasped. The flutters in her belly seemed to ignite and shoot bolts of flame through her core, images conjured of the things he could do, all inspired by the erotic romance novels that Poppy kept slipping into her hands. Some she had allowed him to do, a few times now his hands had found their way under her blouse, but no further. Anything more made her heart pound with uncertainty.

Much like now, his hand moving from her waist to her behind, caressing the curve before squeezing with such suggestive slowness. All the while, he was pressing her into the table edge, her upper body now leaning forward slightly, her hands bracing her weight. It was thrilling, but still she kept thinking to stop it, the sensations overwhelming and making her breathless.

"Oscar..."

"Let me show you," he said softly. "Just relax."

Her sigh was shaky as it left her mouth, heart thudding madly and her head clouding with the sensations that washed over her body as his hand slid lower over her behind. Slowly, he dipped under, fingers brushing with agonising pressure right across her core. Her mouth fell open at the touch, the almost painful twinge of heat shooting outwards drawing a moan from her throat. The shock of it made her cheeks burn.

"See, I can make you feel good," he whispered, his hand stroking back and forth at a leisurely pace, his mouth seeking the tender skin of her neck as he applied just enough pressure with his fingers to make her ache so deliciously.

She had touched herself before, driven by curiosity and need she had explored and brought herself to a release, but this was something else entirely. To feel him touch her in such a way made her throb with the need for more friction, her hips tilting to angle herself better as he teased her through her clothes.

Her cheeks flushed as her body heated, his hands driving her into a dizzying rush between her legs and at her breast. She moaned again, eyes closing as she balanced on the edge of just letting herself fall, letting him do whatever he wanted with her. Was she ready to surrender herself? Could this be the connection that eased her worry?

His hips pressed forward, grinding against her at an angle so that he could continue to stroke against her heat, a low sound escaping him. She felt the nudge of his arousal, tried to imagine what it would be like to see him naked, to let him press that hardness inside of her. She trembled and looked down. His hand was at her breast, her hips rocking against his touch, the brief appearance of his finger tips as he rubbed upwards towards her core making her gasp.

The intimacy of it, every rub of his fingers sending tingling fire through her body, she had to admit that it felt so good. The sensation was heightened and far more arousing than touching herself. Nobody had ever touched here before, he was the first, and as the fire began to take over she wondered why she had waited so long.

Unbidden, she remembered the secret dream, of how she had awoken flushed and trembling, her core throbbing from forbidden touches. In the hazy world of dreams it had been Garreth who had touched her this way, Garreth's hands had reduced her to that mess. Not Oscar.

MC froze. Her cheeks reddened even further with shame. How could she think such a thing when Oscar had his hands on her like this?

"Stop," she croaked, shifting her hips, and pulling away. He immediately retrieved his hand and stilled.

"What is it?"

She couldn’t look at him for fear of revealing the guilty shame that surely shone on her face. The haze of lust faded and reality crushed her. She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and extracted herself from between him and the table. She needed to put space between them.

"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled, eyes darting away. What to say? What reason could she give? Certainly not the truth. "It was too much."

She heard his sigh and glanced towards him, the frustration and disappointment creasing his brow making her cringe before he quickly hid it, brushing his hand through his hair. "It's fine," he said, a muscle working in his jaw. "I've always said that we would only do what you're comfortable with."

MC was beginning to wonder if that would ever happen, the realisation that it might not slammed into her, and she took another step back, her hand pressing to her chest. Panic tightened it, stole her breath, and her eyes flew to the door.

No. She couldn't run again. She had to stop running from the truth. She had to face it.

All the time she had feelings for someone else, this was never going to work. All the worry about someone else tempting Oscar away from her was pointless when she was lured away herself. Her guilty conscience was making up excuses, and she was ashamed of herself.

Hero indeed.

"I can't do this," she whispered.

"What does that mean?" He asked, a flash of fear in his eyes.

Her own eyes burned with tears. This hurt. She hated it. But like a dressing on a wound, she had to tear it free. There would be no healing if she didn't.

"Us. I can't... " She shook her head, the first tear slipping free. "I'm sorry, Oscar. I think we should part ways. I'm not cut out for this, you deserve to be with someone who can make you happy."

"You make me happy!" There was a desperate edge to his voice. "Please, don't do this. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I'll do whatever it takes..."

"No," she said, cutting him off. "You have a whole new life waiting for you when you leave Hogwarts, a life you have worked hard for, and I don't want to hold you back. It's better this way, trust me. I'm sorry. It has to be over."

The devastation on his face was unbearable. MC clutched her hands together in front of her chest, telling herself over and over that she was doing the right thing. This was for the best.

Oscar slipped his wand from his pocket and unlocked the door. The click of the lock sounded so final in the quiet of the room. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. She had hurt him. It shone in those pretty eyes, and she hated herself for putting it there.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Grabbing the door handle, she yanked it open and left before she changed her mind.

....*....

In her bed, alone, with only a pillow to hug for company, MC looked across towards Poppy’s empty bed. Was she alright? Happy?

Of course she was. Sebastian would be taking care of her. MC felt a fresh wave of tears creep up on her and she buried her face into her pillow. Whilst being happy for her friends, her heart felt shredded and brittle like glass. Oscar's devastated face haunted her thoughts behind her eyes whenever she closed them. It was hard to keep telling herself that this was for the best. It was. She had done the right thing.

It didn't stop it from hurting though. She had pushed away the first boy she had ever kissed, the first to capture her interest and steal her away. But, if she searched deep and truthfully, Oscar hadn't fully captured her heart. If he had, she wouldn't be here letting her tears soak into her pillow right now. She would be with him, caught up in soft dreams like Poppy was over Sebastian.

Oscar had made her heart beat faster, awoken a fire in her blood, but she just hadn't been able to make that complete leap with him. She would always hold back.

As MC let her sobs quietly ebb to a stop and try to find the safety of sleep, she thought of soft, green eyes and warm smiles. The safety and comfort that she found in Garreth's arms had soothed the tightness in her chest. His voice and warm presence had slowly stolen over her until he filtered through into her dreams. She had thought of him when Oscar had touched her, and that was the final truth.

She had feelings for Garreth, feelings she had to tuck away safely until she was ready to look at them again. For now, she needed to heal. Oscar needed to heal.

She had made the right choice. Hadn't she?

To be continued...

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley #oscar weasley #oscar weasley x mc #blueraineshadows #garreth's groupies

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moonsb1996 · 1 year ago

Text

Concept art and miscellaneous ideas

hello ! @the-invisible-introvert-2004 with @lucia1234lizeth Today I'm still out of energy from my regular work so I haven't continued drawing lore. But that doesn't mean I'm abandoning the project either. And this is my miscellaneous idea. that are within the story and the subplots that are So I thought I'd bring it down for a while, (so I won't forget the subplots , I'm a forgetful person ha)

Idea 01 : Disguise

Pictured above are three characters I have ideas about for their disguises, from left to right.

Miyar: I have an idea. She has a passion for cosplay. It was her hobby to avoid being at home with Adila and her parents, so she often made all the equipment herself. including makeup But most of the time, she has to carry an umbrella with her cosplay character. Sometimes she works with friends who have broken out of jail. She will be the group's makeup artist. And she used to dress up as a boy. The only problem that will arise is the sound. Because she's not as good as PT 6th who can change his voice without a voice converter.

Oscar : My idea for him was a traditional performance. In Japan, old theater companies tended to have male performers. (I don't remember what it was called) meaning there were no female actors. A male actor must be able to play the role of a female character. If I remember correctly Some famous male actors (I don't remember their names sorry) can dance the roles of female characters beautifully. So I thought that even though he is a very tall man (177 centimeters), he could dress up as a female character. and the idea of disguise or most of the characters It's mostly an idea from Myar's Lolita outfit.

Adila: The idea of her disguise that I have for her is similar to how Himiko Toga disguises herself or what Horikoshi Kohei does for the characters in MHA. Bad, insulting to human intelligence and characters. As you can see she looks almost unchanged. Because she doesn't even dye her hair, and in fact, if she were to disguise herself in my story, she would "suck, suck" the blood of the person she liked. and disguised himself as him for a week or two (Put the blood in the refrigerator or keep it in a temperature-proof glass.) As a result, when she was hiding in different places, there were reports of bloodless corpses found in alleys, both men and women. But it's mostly women because Adila wants to look cute.

Idea 02 Subplot: Phantom Thief Family

Idea 02 Subplot: Phantom Thief Family The character you see here is Phantom Thief Family Their story is related to the background of most of the story. If you still remember starting from PT 1st, which was involved in "cults" because it was a job hired by Queen of the Irithyll Kingdom But we won't talk about him. I'm going to take you to get to know the Phantom Thief, who is called the cause of… Subplots of their entire lineage

Phantom Thief 5 (The One Who Turned His Back) He is the grandfather of Phantom Thief VI and a "possible relative" of Fuelel. EE : Fortune telling cards Type : IGES Ability: the 5th There are cards that are the same as all 22 tarot cards that will appear when he looks into the target's eyes. The condition of fever is The target must also stare back. Whether consciously or unconsciously This will cause all 22 tarot cards to appear, and when the 5th condition is met, he can "predict the fate" or "determine the fate" of the target.

Example: When the target fulfills the 5th condition, the cards can be shuffled to see the target's "future", such as "The target will have a serious accident" and the target will have an accident as stated. or Number 5 will "choose" the future for the goal, such as "The target will have a serious accident.">>>"The target will have a water accident." But the 5th doesn't have the ability to "see" the death of the "target". Sounds like the OP, but there are also problems using this EE, such as: the 5th cannot use EE on himself. or his bloodline, it meant that he couldn't know that the 6th would lose his arm. Or he will grow old and die. or killed and sometimes cannot be used with what the "world" has determined that "Not human

This EE cannot be used for 4 hours per day and not more than 4 times in a month. and cannot predict the "future" of more than 4 targets. Fun Fact: The number 4 in Chinese means "death," and for Phantom Thief the 5th, who can predicting other people's fortunes. It's a really bad number.

Phantom Thief 6th (sitting on the left) EE : Card Type : Foil Ability: When he touches people, animals, or objects, those objects transform into "cards." You can think of it like a card collecting game. The maximum size he can fit into a card is It was the size of a 4-door car, so he couldn't turn the entire building into a card. Anything larger than a 4-door car would leave cracks. the 6th can restore them by deactivating them through the sound of snapping their fingers. (He has the same abilities as the 4th, the5th's younger brother.) However, the 6th has the ability to read tarot cards just like regular fortune telling. Using general fortune telling conditions (name of target Target's date of birth House registration number, etc.) the 6th got the5th Teach how to use cards to predict people's fortunes. It has the same rule as the5th's EE, namely the number 4 rule. As for accuracy, it is considered to be at a certain level as well.

Futel (sitting on the right) EE : Doll Type : Foil Abilities: When in contact with people, animals, or things, those objects will transform into Dolls or toys, such as people turning into dolls A real gun becomes a toy gun, with the form of a "toy" or "doll" being random. Sometimes people are dolls. Or plastic dolls, things, too. Unlike the5th, Futel can use EE on himself. And with people in his family as well. Normally, if a person was touched by him, they would turn into a doll. who cannot move the body but can feel it as normal (Even the pain) Futel transforms into a stuffed animal. that can talk and move But unable to maintain physical strength, for example, if you were not turned into a doll, you could still lift a dumbbell. When he became a doll, he couldn't lift a dumbbell because the inside of the stuffed animal was stuffed with soft fibers. And Futel doesn't like being seen as a stuffed animal because of the embarrassment of his appearance. Unfortunately, I haven't designed it yet. But I can say that it is. Rabbit stuffed animal

#my art #my original characters #my original art #my ocs #my novel #ocs #oc art

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clarklovescarole · 2 months ago

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March 1941: Restaurant Sightings

March 2, 1941 – The Sacramento Union

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard won’t work together, even on a radio show.

March 3, 1941 – The Miami News

Ciro’s is the place. It’s the place the movie starts go to see the movie stars. It’s Hollywood’s gayest glitter gutter… Where the lights really shine.

… Diana Lewis and Bill Powell would be horrified if they were seated at one of the choice ringside tables. Without ever being consulted, they are seated at the worst possible table. It embarrasses Bill to have the dancers stare at his wife. Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are the same about hideaway tables. It embarrasses Clark to be a nightclub movie star.

March 9, 1941 - Detroit Free Press

Clark Gable and the Missus, Carole Lombard, are back in Hollywood and relaxing here at Ciro’s after spending a couple of months in Mexico hunting lions. And before that, they went east to see a doctor in Baltimore.

March 9, 1941 – The Ogden Standard Examiner

Carole Lombard recently asked a friend of Ginger Rogers why Ginger had to play her blankety-blank phonograph so loud so early in the morning. Carole and Ginger are not neighbors in the folk sense but in a geographic one. Ginger‘s house is on a hill, several hundred feet above the Gable-Lombard Ranch.

The friend explained that Ginger likes music, even while she is showering in the morning, and that in order to hear it above the spray and splash she has to pull out all the stops on the phonograph in her bedroom. Miss Lombard’s comment is not available, which is just as well.

March 9, 1941 – The Springfield Daily Republican

At the Brown Derby – Clark Gable and his wife, Carole Lombard.

March 9, 1941 – The Knoxville Journal

Hey Clark Gable! Your wife’s having lunch with another man. Well, it’s nothing much to get worried about, because the man, pictured above with Carole Lombard, is just George McCall, CBS movie commentator and Hollywood gossiper. Monday, George will bring his “Glamour Gal Revue” to the Bijou here. According to Gary Cooper, George knows more about the movie stars than they know about themselves. He will tell about Hollywood and be master of ceremonies for a whole group of outstanding acts in the stage show at the Bijou Monday.

March 12, 1941 – Tampa Bay Times

Clark Gable, amateur photographer. Mr. Gable is currently explaining why all the pictures he shot on a recent Mexican jaunt with a $500 camera are so bad, while those Carole Lombard took with a $2 box are so good.

March 13, 1941 – Valley Morning Star

One of the reasons, admittedly a minor one, that Clark Gable and Carole Lombard get along so famously is that both see eye to eye on the matter of “dressing up” and putting on the ritz.

Farmer Gable goes for those rusty old trousers and sweaters in his real farm life as well as in the still pictures, and Carole, he says, will have no part in that general feminine conspiracy which aims that getting the male into white-tie-and-tails at the slightest provocation.

Gable‘s new picture, with Rosalind Russell, is “The Uniform,“ but the title doesn’t mean he’ll be duded up any more than usual. Gable is not one of our clothes-conscious stars – “Don’t have to be,” he says, “with the kind of parts I play.“

This relegation of wardrobe to the minor matters file in Gable’s life impressed Walter Pidgeon on their first meeting some years ago. Gable had been instrumental in having Pidgeon cast in a leading role with him, and Pidgeon – who has worked with clothes-conscious stars – sought him out to confer on wardrobe.

“Tell me what you’re wearing,” said Walter, “and I’ll pick out suits that don’t conflict.”

“You name it, “said Gable, “and I’ll steer clear of what you choose.”

For “dress” occasions Gable compromises on a tuxedo whenever possible. He has an old suit of tails – bought, as he recalls it, for the academy award dinner in 1935, the year he won his Oscar for “It Happened One Night.”

“I’ve had the thing on about three times since,” he grinned with an air of minor triumph. “Once the vest ripped on me as we were leaving the house, and Carole found a safety pin to hold it together.”

Gable is quite a farmer out there in the valley - with his alfalfa, his citrus fruit, his avocados.

“That’s the way it goes,” he said. “A kid works his fool head off to get away from a farm, and then he grows up and works his fool head off to get back on one.”

March 16, 1941 – Honolulu Star Advertiser

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard inspect one of the huge main wheel assemblies of the B-19. Largest ever constructed for a plane, each wheel is 8 feet in diameter and weighs 2700 pounds complete with tire, tube, hub and brake assembly.

March 17, 1941 – The Cleveland Press

Clark Gable’s death was going the rounds again this week; the rumor originated in Georgia this time and had the star smashed to smithereens in an automobile accident. As usual, a studio executive had to go through the red tape ceremony of going over to Gable’s set and asking him whether he was dead or alive.

March 20, 1941 – Hartford Courant

Talking about premieres, I understand the Mexican government has invited Clark Gable and Carole Lombard to join the contingent of stars and press for the Mexico City showing “Pot O’ Gold.“ They will go – if Clark Gable finishes his “Uniform“ assignment in time.

March 29, 1941 – Daily News

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard will celebrate their second wedding anniversary tomorrow. Clark’s gag present to Carole is a set of calico underwear in red, white and blue.

March 29, 1941 – Daily News

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are figuring to buy Winfield Sheehan’s ranch in Hidden Valley…

#carole lombard #clark gable #old hollywood #newspaper archives #pictures #1941

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fahrni · 3 months ago

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

We’ve had a pretty great week here in our part of Virginia. It’s been sunny with temperatures in the 60’s! 😎

Other than that it’s been one of those regular weeks. Nothing overly exciting going on except for the disaster that is our country leadership at the moment. But let’s not get into that here.

Please enjoy the links! ❤️

Carmel Dagan, J. Kim Murphy • Variety

Gene Hackman and Wife Betsy Arakawa Found Dead in Santa Fe Home; Oscar-Winning Star of ‘French Connection’ and ‘Unforgiven’ Was 95

This one hit me. Gene Hackman is my favorite actor of all time. There was just something about him. It didn’t hurt that he reminded me of my grandfather who was an extremely kind man but tough as nails. That’s how Hackman always came across to me.

There are my favorite Gene Hackman films.

The French Connection

Target

Mississippi Burning

The Replacements

Unforgiven

There are many more excellent Gene Hackman films to choose from.

In the end he lived a long life and managed to live out his final years peacefully with his wife in New Mexico. 🪦

Joan Westenberg

Why Personal Websites Matter More Than Ever

I love reading Joan’s work. Whether it be on her personal blog or on The Index. She’s just a darned good writer.

Anywho, I agree with her 100%. A weblog is the best social media site you can have because it’s yours. If your host shuts down you can freely move it and your content to a new home.

Start free with a WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger, or Micro.Blog account and see where it takes you. There are, of course, others to choose from.

The next step in your journey, perhaps it should be the first, is to acquire a custom domain name to host your blog. They’re also quite easy to get and all of the blog hosting providers I mention above will let you set your own domain name. Easy least!

Nico Grant • The New York Times

“I recommend being in the office at least every weekday,” he wrote in a memo posted internally on Wednesday evening that was viewed by The New York Times. He added that “60 hours a week is the sweet spot of productivity” in the message to employees who work on Gemini, Google’s lineup of A.I. models and apps.

I emphasized the 60 hours comment. That’s a bunch of BS. Trust me, I should know. I put in those kind of hours in the 90’s and early 2000’s. In the end they get a bunch of free work out of you and, if you have a family, your family suffers. It’s just not worth it. Ok, ok, so do a few years of it, say five, and get out.

If you’re single and don’t have any friends this may be the only way you socialize. I could see doing 60 hours a week, but at some point your mind and body pay the price for it.

I’m approaching 60 and I’d rather spend my time with my wife, children, and grand children.

Be wise. Don’t be me.

Scott Neuman • NPR

Skype, the pioneering and once ubiquitous free video calling service, will be history come May. It was so popular that people used it as a verb: “I’ll Skype you in the morning.”

I guess all good things must come to an end, right? Skype was equally loved and hated. I know folks who used it to do international calls and it’s been a huge part of the podcasting world for over a decade, probably two? Folks tried other services but Skype just worked better. It wouldn’t drop connections which is its primary job. The UI sucked but it did the job.

What are folks using today for recording podcasts? I’d love to know.

Jonathan M. Gitlan • Ars Technica

Yes, it turns out you can make a Tesla Cybertruck even uglier

I don’t know if this is uglier or just as ugly in a different way. Lipstick on a pig indeed! 🐷

It’s a garbage “truck” made by a garbage company “run” by a garbage human.

I put quotes around “run” because there is zero chance *Space Karen is performing his duties as CEO for Tesla, SpaceX, or X at the moment.

(* Yes, I pointed to Nazistack. I wish these damned good writers would get off that platform.)

Tim Hardwick • MacRumors

Apple has offered a reason why the iPhone 16e doesn’t include MagSafe, one of the more notable omissions from its latest entry-level smartphone.

I’ve said it a few times now. This may be the perfect phone for me. Lower priced and is good enough. I’d still get iOS and an incredible piece of hardware with good battery life. Oh, and a small camera on the back. 😃

Jack Dunn • Variety

‘Daredevil: Born Again’ Draws Glowing First Reactions, With Some Praising the Opener as the ‘Best Pilot of Any MCU Series Thus Far’

I’m happy to see this back! I haven’t started watching yet, but I most certainly will at some point. Apparently we’re gonna see The Punisher show up at some point. I was a fan of that series as well. ❤️

Kelly Crandall • Racer

Carson Hocevar earned a NASCAR Cup Series career-best finish Sunday at Atlanta Motor Speedway but was left having to explain himself afterward.

Last seasons Rookie of the Year really pisses people off. He’s been doing it since he was part of the Truck Series. Wrecking Corey Heim in the wall during the Championship Race in 2023 was a disgusting display of selfishness.

These Cup drivers won’t put up with his overly aggressive style. He’s stepped over the line from aggressive to reckless. The veteran drivers will straighten him out. It may take a few punches in the face, but they’ll fix it. 🤬

Valerie Ettenhofer • /Film

Tom Cruise who? Hulking action star Alan Ritchson has now played beloved antihero and skull-knocking machine Jack Reacher in more adaptations of Lee Child’s bestselling book series than the Reacher before him (who’s currently busy risking life and limb as a different beloved action hero), and judging by the reviews for “Reacher” season 3, it’s a role Ritchson was meant to play.

Here’s another series I need to get back to. We really enjoyed season one but haven’t watched since.

Alan Ritchson is a really great actor and he fits the physical description of Reacher much better than Tom Cruise.

Michael Larabel • Phoronix

The SystemV file-system that implements Xenix FS, SystemV/386 FS, and Coherent FS is set to be removed from the Linux kernel. The SystemV file-system was orphaned back in 2023 while now is set to be removed entirely after developers realized the code was fundamentally broken.

Ahhh, SystemV. Seeing the word Xenix in there takes me back. Do y’all remember Microsoft Xenix? Probably not many. How about SCO? Yeah, probably not. 🤣

I installed a lot of SCO Xenix at one point in my career. I want to say by then it was SCO UNIX? My memory isn’t that clear on the matter. 😃

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chaoticzoomies · 2 years ago

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Trying to sneakily start a questions chain so we can all get to know each-other a bit better in the F1blr univers

Name (or what you want to be called on tumblr)

Where are you from?

Where do you live?

Any pets?

Favorite driver(s) currently on the grid, and why?

Favorite driver(s) not currently on the grid and why?

Favorite romantic driver pairing(s) (e.g. Maxiel, Carlando)

Driver you’re most attracted to physically

Driver whose personality you like best

Favorite driver friendship(s)

Favorite team principal

Favorite team

Least favorite team, if any

Driver(s) you dislike, if any

If you’re a fic writer: if you could only write about one f1 pairing for the rest of your life who are you choosing?

Please send this to 10 (or more!) other F1 tumblr users that you love and want to get to know better 🫶💜

I'm finally getting around to this! Sorry it took me so long.

1. Toni

2. Australia. More specifically the Melbourne area.

3. Same as above

4. Sadly not right now. Not in a place to afford them. I miss having pets though.

5. Lando, Carlos, and Oscar are the top 3 for me. Couldn't really tell you why other than I like them.

6. Seb. I miss him so much. I loved him all the way from gremlin demon to bee dad.

7. Carlando. Hands down, full stop, no questions.

8. Carlos I think. Oscar is a closer second than I expected though.

9. Lando and Alex. I really enjoy both of their humour.

10. I love the Powerpuff crew (Este, Lance, and Mick). They look so happy together gossiping and messing about.

11. I think it's got to be Toto. But I do very much appreciate Christian's bitch levels.

12. McLaren. I love my papaya boys so much.

13. Haas. Not sure what it is. I just hate the vibes. KMag is okay... He can stay and go elsewhere idk.

14. Hulkenberg. I just get this idea he thinks he's so much better than he is. Also Daniel but that's for totally irrational personal reasons (he reminds me a lot of my highschool bullies in looks and behaviour)

15. I am not really a fic writer, I've only dipped my toes in. But if I had to only *read* one pairing it's Carlando.

#ask box responses #ask box games

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majoringinsarcasm · 2 years ago

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“V9 was filler because nothing changed about Ruby or Jaune, she could’ve had her breakdown in Vacuo while the real plot was being fleshed out.”

Ahem

1) Above all else you sound like you hate fun bc V9 was so freaking cool and visually stunning and new and different and weird and wonderful

2) Had Ruby gone to Vacuo right away she would NOT have properly grieved Penny nor would she have had time to vent her frustrations because she is a Leader, capital L, and it’s been 8 volumes of her not addressing her issues or having bursts of anger and then immediately trying to comfort someone else. See V4 when she tries to tell Jaune that Ren and Nora will be fine. He responds “you don’t know that” and we see her smile fade. Her uncle might die and it’s her fault he’s hurt but she’s trying to comfort Jaune. No time for her.

Or in V6 where she just learned the big bad they are fighting seemingly can’t die. She goes to Oscar and makes him feel human she comforts him even though she’s no doubt flipping out inside. And then later when she smashes the bottle to wake Qrow up she is visually upset that he’s passed out drinking again but she softens and hugs him and offers support.

She has been trying to prove herself since Volume 1. She is the one who tells Jaune that as Leaders they have to put their team first and themselves second and she’s stuck to that rule. She wants to prove that Ozpin making her Leader wasn’t a mistake. With Jaune, it’s similar, he doesn’t ask for help from anyone with his emotions. He’s the golden retriever, the lovable idiot stuck in the tree. He didn’t want to be a team player at all he wanted to be The Hero, someone who didn’t need help, someone who could save his friends instead of being shoved in a locker and moved to safety. He didn’t want to work With them, he wanted to save them all.

And that’s why V9 is so special. For the first time since the series began Ruby Rose “puts herself first”. She’s been lamenting all of her failures she’s been stewing in this hopelessly because she thinks SHE is the issue when that’s not the case.

“What about me?!”

“What happens if I choose me?”

She decides she is Enough, flaws and failed plans and all. She does not need to change into someone else to be better because SHE was never the problem. The world would have fought against whoever came out of that tree and she’s holding her own hand and saying “I will be there for this girl I will grab the weapon she made and I will fight for Myself as well as everyone else. I am worth fighting for.”

And with Jaune, well he got to be The Hero all by himself. He got to be the protector of a group of beings that did what he asked and wanted to make him happy. Who Let Him Help. No one shoved him into a locker, he wasn’t laughed at for making up silly team attack names, he was in charge all by himself. He was selfish but he STILL wasn’t putting himself first at the same time. He was clinging to unhealthy ideals because he was without a team to lean on or even help. He had no one to call him out nobody to keep him level. It’s not until the final battle that he gets to be “the man he’s always wanted to be.”

Jaune is a strategist. He’s good at looking at the whole picture BECAUSE he’s not on the frontlines from the start. He provides perspective and new ideas. In V4 he also plays this role but he’s a bit reluctant. He’s without a weapon and sees at first the role as lesser, but now he’s fully embracing it. He’s from a big family and then had a team he’s not Built to be a lone wolf. He’s built to be with a family, he’s meant to be part of something bigger. After years of being the rusted knight he never changed or got better and THAT was the lesson. He got to play out his ideal and was worse because of it because a hero isn’t what he thought it would be. Or what he wanted it to be.

In the end Ruby still doesn’t call herself a huntress. Somewhat calls her that. In the end Ruby still doesn’t pick that definition for herself, but someone she showed kindness to and helped just because she could called her that. THAT is what makes Ruby a huntress. It’s not just about fighting monsters or even protecting those who can’t protect themselves. It’s about kindness, it’s about love, it’s about patience.

Ruby Rose is a huntress, because SHE embodies what a HUNTRESS should mean, not the other way around. And That is why this finale means everything to me. She’s better than the heroes in the books, and now she gets to save herself along with everyone else.

#ruby rose #rwby9 #Ruby volume 9 #jaune arc #these two are so important to me #I agree adding some scenes would’ve helped flesh out certain parts #but what we have is nothing short of absolutely beautiful #and it Is Important #I won’t be told otherwise so if you disagree that’s fine but I’m not about it

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z1m1nys0ldat · 2 years ago

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The best current actors and the film/TV show that proved it to me

There are a lot of incredible actors out there, and more emerging every day. And it’s difficult to choose who my favourites are, however there are some actors that to me are just a little bit above everyone else.

Florence Pugh Florence Pugh is without a doubt an amazing actor, and is actually one of my favourites. She has starred in some of my favourite films, and is set to star in others that I’m unbelievably excited to see.

There are a few reasons why I love Florence Pugh’s acting, but the big one is her ability to portray such deep emotional scenes. Her ability to act out: terror, love, anger, sadness, grief and so much more is masterful and really sets her apart.

There are a lot of films that have showcased Florence Pugh’s abilities, one of my favourites being Midsommar. However the film that really to me displayed how incredible of an actor Pugh is, is the 2022 film; The Wonder.

Florence’s ability to embody her character so beautifully was so enthralling and captivating and it kept me on the edge of my seat the entire way through. The way she is able to act out such deep and intricate emotional scenes with so many layers and nuances... I would not be suprised if there was an Oscar with her name on it in the near future.

Tom Holland I will admit I used to not be a big fan of Tom Holland’s work, I had only seen him in Spiderman and I found myself associating him with the character too much and struggled to separate the two. I was not a fan of the hype surrounding him and because of this I had a real unfair bias for him.

However this has since changed. The reason why? The 2020 film; The Devil all the time. This film was incredible and Tom Holland’s acting was off the charts and it really changed my opinion on him.

Holland has a real talent with accents, and it’s rare (at least for me) to be able to find an actor that can preform with a realistic accent at different volumes and with different tones and pitches.

Sebastian Stan It’s no secret that I love Sebastian Stan, I’ve followed him and his projects for a while now and it’s rare for me to be disappointed. Sebastian Stan is the sort of actor that I love for so many reasons, but the main one? His ability to act and display emotion silently and without words.

He can express and portray so much emotion and feeling through his eyes and his facial expression that he doesn’t even need to say a word. He is has the ability to do comedy, romance, horror and action, and he does it all well.

The way he so seamlessly slips into his characters and really becomes them is so incredible to me.

The project that shows this the most to me though is the 2012 drama series; Political Animals. His depiction of TJ Hammond was so heartbreaking, and so (no pun intended) addictive.

Timothée Chalamet Timothée Chalamet is another one of those rare talents that is just so much more. I don’t quite know how to describe it, but there is simply something about how he commands the screen, how he captures your attention.

His ability to emotional connect with his co-stars and show that on screen is so beautiful, the chemistry he has with everyone in CMBYN is enthralling and makes the film so much more beautiful.

However it isn’t CMBYN that really showed the extent of Timothée Chalamet’s skill, in my opinion. That goes to the 2018 film; Beautiful Boy. The acting in the film is incredible. Timothée was really able to capture all of the pain and hopelessness of addiction, as well as the hopeful and soulful moments of recovery. When I watched this film, I wasn’t watching Timothée acting out a character, I just saw his character living. There was no disconnect between the two.

Josh Hutcherson Now, on this one I am admittedly a little bias. I grew up on films starring actors like Josh Hutcherson, one of my favourite films growing up was Bridge to Terabithia. However I don’t think I’m being bias when I say this actor has some serious skill.

The Hunger Games has long been one my favourite film series (and book series), so I obviously had quite the crush on Josh Hutcherson growing up. However his inclusion on this list is not because of that.

It’s because of his portrayal of Peeta Mellark; more specifically in Mockingjay Pt1. The way Hutcherson acted out Peeta’s downward spiral while in the captivity of the Capital was mesmerizing. I remember being genuinely afraid for him when watching the film, even after multiple rewatches. The way he acted out Peeta’s fear, rage and hate after he had been hijacked was so unbelievable incredible I can’t even put it into words.

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fallingsunflower · 3 years ago

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Hi so I wanted to make this into one coherent post since my last one got a little messy.

This is just a general response to when people ask why I don't like Olivia. It has nothing to do with her association to Harry. It's all about her.

Possible TW - SA, homophobia, racism, rape, abuse

Supports Woody Allen - came up in 2007, 2013, and 2016 (Woody was accused of sexually abusing his adoptive daughter. He also married the adopted daughter of his ex-wife but that a separate thing)

Multiple allegations of her being racist. Some proof for this is in her tweet from 2012, defending Sacha Boron Cohen's Ali G bit at the Oscars (which wasn't approved to happen). Many Asian people took offense to his joke. Ali G also stereotypes black people and allows an environment where it's "okay" to laugh at black street culture. Regardless of if you're not offended by this or not, it wasn't Olivia's place to stick up for him.

She stereotyped lesbian relationships (to kissing and scissoring) and said she essentially wanted to be in one because she was bored (after her divorce from Tao and before Jason)

She compared coming out of the closet to coming out as a director. This is one that I was personally offended by because it is NOT the same. Coming out and navigating through sexuality is scary for most people.

Her "feminism" has been reduced to wearing t-shirts saying "FEMINIST AF" and speaking about how females need to spread their legs to show they're powerful.

Said "hookers" should be "mute and cross eyed", and joked about how people should be able to hire them for their partners when they're not in the mood/going away. This whole article is problematic tbh.

Basically said all kids should go to boarding school at the age of 7 (in her dream land. Check article above ^).

Said relationships should last no more than 7 years.

Was in a questionable Down Syndrome ad that somehow had more emphasis on her than Down Syndrome. Many people viewed it as ableist and harmful to those with disabilities.

Supports and worked with Anthony Kiedis. She directed a music video for him. And for those who don't know, Anthony was/is in the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He bragged about repeatedly having sex with a 14 year old girl. He was 23 at the time, obviously making this a case of statutory rape and not just sex. He also had a relationship with a 16 year old when he was 23 or 24. All of this can be found in his autobiography, Scar Tissue.

Supports the brand Revlon, which is not a cruelty free brand yet she claims to be an animal activist. And just to be clear, Revlon claims they don't test on animals but they choose to sell their products in countries where animal testing is a requirement.

Was offensive towards the transgender community by saying her jaw could make her "look like a tranny".

These other tweets I just find weird but not sure what category to put them under:

Was connected to Harvey Weinstein. Repeatedly hung out with him, sung his praises, was name dropped by one of his victims (Harvey proposed a threesome between the victim and Olivia). And believe me I would LOVE to look past this but it's unsettling that her name kept coming up, that she was name dropped by one of Harvey's victims (telling me her and Harvey at least had some sort of conversation regarding her sexual preferences), and that even when the time came for all celebrities to speak out she kind of skirted around the situation and redirected attention away from Harvey and onto all men in powerful positions.

POSSIBILITY of being capable of physical violence. More than one source has come forward to claim this. Not a ton of proof to support it, but I am personally inclined to believe it.

Lied about firing Shia LaBeouf from DWD to keep Florence Pugh and the cast "safe". In reality, she begged Shia to come back to DWD and that Florence needed a "wake up call". Please refer to this timeline and explanation.

So yeah, some of this stuff is worse than others. But in general, this is why I can't support her and why it bothers me she's linked to Harry. How shippers overlook all this is beyond me.

Here's another video (it's long) that breaks down a lot of this stuff, too.

And just to be clear, she never apologized or owned up to any of it.

Please let me know if I forgot anything and I'll add it. This will also be linked in my pinned post!

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

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