#hey will any television show ever make me feel this way again or was this it

[dolcezzatoru]

Just seen your sfw & nsfw alphabet for gojo (my current obsession) and I think your grasp of his character is really good. I'm all for he's an all or nothing type. If you break through those walls he's all in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for how he'd be if his f partner was a virgin and not very used or comfortable with being vulnerable or exposed.

hi angelcake, i wrote a lil bit of a fic instead (sorry) !! if this doesn't answer your question, shoot me another one and i'll write some delicious headcanons instead ♡ thank you for requesting, love ♡

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?

gojo satoru x virgin f!reader

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,”

satoru nips at your neck, the two of you grinding against one another on the couch. the apartment was cold, and the only light in the room was the low light of the television reflected against you and your boyfriend. it was playing some show you two stopped watching a while ago, the quiet dialogue between two characters on-screen humming behind satoru’s soft pants.

it felt good. satoru was a little needy; his hands running all over your body, pushing his own further into yours to try and be any closer than he was now.

it felt good, you thought. or it was supposed to.

anxiety started to pull you out of what was a moment of ecstasy. you became a little too aware of it all–how his body felt on yours, the way your hands rested effortlessly onto his back, how your hands were clammy, and your lips might be chapped, and your hair might be tangled, and-

“hey now,” 

satoru catches his breath and runs the back of his hand on your cheek.

“you okay?”

his voice was soft, gentle, and concerned. it was safe. he was safe.

“i’m…um-”

your voice trailed off as your eyes darted to anywhere but his face. you settled on looking down into his lap.

“sorry. yeah, i’m fine. sorry about that,” you said.

satoru shuffled a bit more to get a better look at your face. something about the light coming off of the tv made your eyes look more watery than usual. but you had a soft blush on your face, and your lips were pouted and puffy. you looked perfect. 

“we don’t have to go any further if you don’t wanna,”

“it’s okay, satoru, really,”

“have you ever…done this before, love?”

“um, sure–plenty of times,”

your lie must’ve been bad, because satoru saw right through you. he squeezed your hand in his and laughed when he answered. 

“ah, i see, i didn’t realize i was with an expert in the field”

he was joking to make you feel better, but your face definitely got hot. you looked up to see him laughing, not daring to let go of your hand as he searched for what to say next.

“oh, shut up, satoru, i don’t know,” you make a weak attempt at defending yourself, “i’m nervous,”

your honesty makes his gaze soften into yours. he finally lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“we can go however far you want, okay?”

you nod as you feel emotions well up in your eyes.

“good to keep going, baby?”

“yeah, s’okay, satoru,”

he hums in agreement as he kisses you again, slowly working up to the pace you were at before.

it feels good. for real this time. you mean it when you think it, and you think it when you feel it. he feels good.

you stop a bit when satoru’s hand settles on the edge of your shirt, slowly lifting it. you pause as the cool air just touches the exposed skin, and satoru stops.

“is this okay?”

he’s whispering now, slowly speaking in front of your mouth as to not startle you, hurt you, or break you. simply treating you like he loves you.

you think on it for a fraction of a second, suddenly self conscious of anything you’ve ever done or been in your life.

and then you snapped back into it. satoru’s hand on your side, waiting for direction, while the other one was just underneath your jaw, holding onto your neck like he’d be lost at sea without it tethering you to him.

he was close, patient, and accepting. you figured no matter what the direction was next, he’d be okay with it. he’d listen if you were uncomfortable, if you needed to stop, if you felt self conscious; it all mattered to him in ways unexplainable. 

it’s because he did love you. he wasn’t doing these things like he loved you–it’s because already does. a lot, really. an unfathomable amount. it doesn’t matter if you wanted to fuck now or ten years down the line. it would be with you. you’d be together, and the details would just fall into place after that. he was sure of it, and you were just coming around to realizing that now.

“s’okay, satoru,”

he leaned in more to kiss you sweetly, nodding his approval for your consent as he carefully lifted your shirt off. he followed suit shortly after, taking his off with your help in solidarity. 

“god, you’re so beautiful”

this was the second time tonight he’s said that, in addition to the heaps of times the words have fallen out before today. it felt different tonight though. satoru could not be looking at you more when he said it. he said it like he was reciting a prayer–if he didn’t say those words it would kill him.

it made you bashful. you found yourself instinctively covering your exposed torso up and looking away. 

satoru took your wrists in his hand. 

you lean in to kiss him as he stands up to take off his pants, his erection suddenly obvious as his boxers try to contain it. naturally, your eyes point towards it. satoru’s quick to lift your chin to meet his line of sight.

“hey, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smirks, “you okay?”

you’re at eye-level to his belly button, a soft white line of hair dancing down into his boxers. you hold his waist in your hands, using it to steady yourself as you rise to your feet.

“‘m okay, love, really,”

satoru kneels down to remove your pants and panties, pressing his face to your tummy to be close to you. he peppers a small parade of kisses across your waist as he gently palms your ass in his calloused hand.

he rises up to meet you again, taking your jaw in one of his hands. 

“are you still okay with this?”

his genuine care makes you melt a little, finding yourself clenching your thighs together at his sweet remarks for consent.

“mhm, please satoru, ‘m ready”

he leans in once more, kissing you a little feverishly than before, and holding your entire head in his hands as he pulls you closer to mold your body into his.

“sure, baby, just follow my lead,”

[doodler16]

"If anything Ozzie could’ve been the one who would ask where Stolas is, yknow an established character we already know and someone who knows the details and gave Blitzø the ozmedous crystal so they don’t have to travel illegally."

i think this is the exact reason viv wants to act like ozzie was incapable of doing anything by passive aggressively liking fans tweets that argued he couldnt have possibly spoken up. because if he had even tried to save blitzs heiny by saying truthfully, "hey, wait - i know that guy! my partner fizz is friends with him! and he didn't force himself onto stolas, stolas personally asked me for an asmodean crystal for him when he realized he had, and i quote, 'feelings' for the imp! see? look at his right forearm, that there's one of my crystals, legally approved of." then they all would've believed a seven deadly fucking sin over some pissy elsa rip off that's ranks below ozzie, who has NO evidence of these vile accusations, vs the literal asmodean crystal on blitzs arm that you can literally see throughout the entire the trial. it's not like they took it off or anything! it's still there! keeping in mind theres no such thing as bootlegs crystals, because every on screen depiction (and i think even on screen description) states that an asmodean crystal is a personal item tied to it's owner - it's LEGAL owner.

but if that had happened, then we wouldn't have gotten our stoliz climax where stolas shows he loves blitz by.. doing the bare minimum of NOT letting blitz die due to STOLAS'S DECISION in murder family to make them fuck for the book, instead of giving his "first ever fwiend" an asmodean crystal immediately. how romantic!

im just getting so sick of the parasocial vivziepop stans doing backflips in logic to justify the way the story is, without realizing that they could and SHOULD be given something better. they see the cracks, but viv just doesn't want them to, because it's her way or the highway - she's the biggest fan of her own show, so things happen the way she wants them to, not in a way that makes any logical sense when you put it under the usual critical eye the average writer (and casual viewer) would.

i mean, what if oz said that, but satan still deemed a punishment against blitz worthy for having the grimorie to begin with at all as an imp, still tried to execute blitz as a public display of power, and THEN oz texts stolas while notifications of fizz texting oz pop up? you still get your angst, have ozzie ACTUALLY be a good person who's willing to put his neck out on the line for someone lesser then him with no personal gain and not just be a canonical complacent royal fuck who was about to let his lovers reunited best friend die on public television, which is why i will never be invested in fizzozzie ever again tbh, and STILL have your big stoliz savior moment, without it happening due to just because of stolas just so happening to turn on the news that day. a text from oz could've given stolas a moment to very briefly consider if this is something he should intervene in, before realizing he has to, because blitz made him feel free for the first time in his life. now he can free him too, from the grimorie, and from suffering the consequences of his actions that put blitz in this position unfairly to begin with. also i wouldn't personally write stolas following this up with a song about how he's the mastermind behind a plan he knows nothing about or have him insult his "lovers" intelligence repeatedly within it, "that's the point," my ass, stolas could've just sung about the way blitz made him feel when they first met as kids and then again as adults, and why he gave him the grimorie because of that, contradicting andres imp rape claim and showing blitz that stolas DOES care in a way that ISNT self sacrifice, but nooooo, we need just one more song of stolas being a entertaining dick! no wonder she said this episode was self indulgent lol

Someone get rid of Vivziepop’s Twitter or someone on her Spindlehorse team get Viv a social media manager. 💀 The fact this woman is passively aggressively liking tweets in defense of her show is insane. And maybe just maybe Vivziepop should explain herself in the show instead of Twitter.

I don’t care what anybody says Ozzie could’ve done more and spoken up. He is one of the seven deadly sins and has the power to make a difference. If Stolas (someone who is lower than Ozzie in terms of status) can make a heroic entrance to save his booty call and talk/sing against Satan. Then Ozzie has a chance.

Anon why is your version so much better. That “Mastermind” song so unnecessary (it’s one of the few songs I personally don’t vibe with except the ending, I will admit Satan and other sins part is fire). Stolas says how he love blitzø yet uses any chance to insult and demean his intelligence in the most mean spirited way possible.

[kteezy997]

6 Months-Part One // t.c.

Information: this is inspired by the Netflix film 365 Days

Warnings: toxic premise (but hey it’s fantasy fanfiction!), cursing, mention of sex, abduction by sedation

Mature 18+ readers only, please

He had to have her.

It had been hours. Days. Weeks. He couldn’t go on like this. He needed to claim her as his very own. The only thing better than reading her words or seeing her face in his mind over and over again, was to have her right there, physically in front of him.

And she couldn’t get away.

He needed her in order to survive. She helped him. Without even meeting him, she soothed and comforted him more than anything, any person. No drug on earth could fill him the way she could.

Timothée was reeling from the disappointing reaction to his last film, Bones and All. Even though he'd been cast in a new movie about Willy Wonka, it had been hard to shake the feeling of defeat. Bones had been a passion project; it was his first producing credit as well. But it didn't translate to audiences or critics well at all. It threw him into a depression like he hadn't experienced before.

He moved to London temporarily to work on Wonka. After everything with Bones, all he wanted to do was work and fuck. And that's what he did. He did little else besides those two things. He had his roster picks of women flown to London for a rendezvous on numerous occasions while he was there. But there was no spark in his life. Nothing that piqued his interest.

His performance at work started to suffer. He wasn't immersed in it, and it showed, making other people take notice. He knew that he was becoming difficult to work with. He was ashamed but didn't know how to change it.

On top of it all, his grandmother wasn't doing well. Perhaps that was the main cause of his withdrawal from normalcy. All of it mixed together made for the worst year of his young life. This was supposed to be an exciting time. His career had been blossoming before Bones and All. And with Wonka, there was hope. But he remained practically catatonic.

And then she happened.

He saw her the day he heard the news of his grandmother passing. He passed her on the street in New York, he was taking a break from filming to be near his sick grandma. It was so random. He had no way of knowing that he'd be struck by someone's presence. As devastated as he was, he couldn't help but notice the glow around her. Like she was planted there just for him to see.

He couldn't get the strange young woman out of his head from that day on.

He saw her again, but it was only a photograph, a photograph on the back cover of a book in his mother's living room. She was an author, named Cameron Reese. He couldn't believe that it was really her, but he'd bet every cent to his name that it was the same woman he'd been entranced by before.

It felt like fate to Timothée.

He bought every book she had ever published. All seven of them. They were of the romantic genre, mostly. But the books were clever, and often sexual. Her stories really spoke to his soul. These were characters he could relate to in ways he hadn't felt before when he'd read books by other authors. She was brilliant, as well as beautiful.

He was able to do a Google search on her and found a couple of televised interviews she had done. He ended up falling even harder for her.

It was her voice, the way she spoke from her heart so endearingly, the way she pondered in her mind over every question, she was quirky but not in a 'hey look at me I'm so relatable' way. She was real, and unapologetically herself.

She wasn't vain or vapid like the women he was used to dating, or rather forced to be around for publicity reasons. She wasn't so much into fashion, or the beauty industry. She had more depth. She was able to joke without being mean or offending anyone. She was genuinely interested in what others brought to the table. She was a creative soul, he could tell.

She brought him back to his early days of wanting to become an actor, and how he felt back then. What it felt like to just want to learn and be better, to be an artist. That's what she was, an artist.

Timothee loved her. He decided that she would be his wife one day. She was the only person he could see standing next to him for the rest of his life. A real partner with a great head on her shoulders. His absolute equal. He also wanted to fuck her brains out, day after day, year after year, until the day he died.

.......

Everything went according to plan. She was there, in his L.A. mansion, still sleeping due to the heavy sedation. Now, Timothée just had to explain everything once she was awake.

He knew what he had done was terribly, morally wrong, but he was drowning. He was bound to grab onto someone as the sorrows became too much to bear alone.

.......

He waited anxiously for a few hours. In his head, he went over everything he wanted to say to her. He knew she would be afraid, as anyone would be in her situation. But he would try to soothe any worries she had. He didn't wish to harm her. He wanted to give her the world, to treat her like a queen. All she had to do was let him.

One of his guards let him know that Cameron was awake and was let out of her room. She remained in the den, waiting.

She needs to know what the hell is going on, he thought. The poor girl must be terrified. But she would soon be assured of her safety. Timmy made haste, heading to her location in the sprawling mansion.

Timothée stepped into the den; Cameron was standing in the middle of the room, as if she was in a daze. The sedative was still affecting her.

"Cameron?" he said as carefully as he could muster, so he didn't startle her too much.

She turned to him, she wasn't crying or anything, but she was scared, he could see it plainly. She blinked a few times, then her eyelids closed, and she collapsed.

Timothee reacted quickly to catch her in his arms.

A bad reaction.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

*if you’d like to be removed from my tag list, let me know

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season one, part eight

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetz1919 @moonmark98 @sarahbaker2010

Masterlist

You sat at the dining table the next morning, surrounded by your people but completely detached. You could hear sounds of laughter peek through here and there, but you were too lost in thought to make any sense of what was going on.

Shane and Rick had yet to join breakfast, and that was the only good thing on your mind. You didn’t know if you could face Rick after learning about Lori and Shane, and you weren’t sure you could stop yourself from attacking Shane when you saw him.

As if your mind had willed it, Rick appeared in front of you. He placed a hand on your shoulder in passing before making his way to Lori and kissing her on the cheek.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, sitting down beside Carl.

“Are you hungover?” Carl asked innocently. “Mom said you would be.”

“Mom is right.” Rick laughed.

“Mom has that annoying habit.” Lori smiled.

T-Dog appeared with a pan in hand. “Eggs. Powdered, but I do ‘em good.”

Glenn let out a groan, earning laughs from the group.

“I bet you can’t tell.” T-Dog continued. “Protein helps the hangover.”

Glenn groaned again, louder this time.

“Don’t ever let me drink again.”

Footsteps approached the table, causing you to look up. Shane walked slowly, his eyes fixed on Lori.

“Hey,” he spoke.

“Hey,” Rick smiled. “Feel as bad as I do?”

Shane poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the table. “Worse.”

“What the hell happened to your neck?” T-Dog asked.

You eyed the scratches Lori had left there last night.

“I must’ve done it in my sleep.” Shane replied quietly.

“Never seen you do that before.” Rick responded.

“Me neither.” He looked at Lori. “Not like me at all.”

Lori kept her eyes on her food, ignoring Shane’s presence. You wished you could do the same. All you could feel was burning anger. Shane avoided meeting your gaze, probably expecting a confrontation if he dared look your way. 

“Good morning.” Dr. Jenner spoke, entering the dining area.

“Hey, Doc.” Shane responded.

Dale stood for his seat, stepping over to the man. “Doctor, I don’t mean to slam you with questions first thing-”

“But you will anyway.” Dr. Jenner sighed.

“Look, we didn’t come here for the eggs, as nice as they are.” You spoke.

Dr. Jenner nodded. “I guess now is as good a time as any. Follow me.”

Everyone stood from their seats, following Dr. Jenner out of the room and down the hallway. You arrived at a lab, the lights powering on at his command.

“VI, give me a playback of TS-19.” He spoke.

“Playpack of TS-19.”

Dr. Jenner looked back at you all. “Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few people.”

On the wall, a large display showed various 3-D views of a human skull.

“Is that a brain?” Carl asked excitedly.

“An extraordinary one.” Dr. Jenner hummed. “Not that it matters in the end. VI, take us in for E.I.V.”

“Enhanced internal view.”

The screen transitioned to a view of the person’s shoulders and up, moving into a horizontal view and zooming in to show more details. You could see the inside of this person’s skull, lit up with bright blue threads. Some areas were darker than others, but you could see these threads throughout the brain. They were pulsating.

“What are those lights?” Shane asked.

“It’s a person’s life—experiences, memories. It’s everything.” Dr. Jenner responded. “Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human.”

“You don’t make sense ever?” Daryl asked.

“Those are synapses. Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says or does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death.”

“Death?” Rick asked. “That’s what this is, a vigil?”

“Yes. Or, rather the playback of the vigil.”

Andrea stepped closer. “This person died? Who were they?”

“Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process. VI, Scan forward to the first event.”

“Scanning to the first event.”

You could now see that the brain’s lights were still flickering on the outside, but dark roots had begun taking over the inside.

“What is that?” You asked.

“It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be… gone.”

Sophia looked up at Carol. “Is that what happened to Jim?”

Carol nodded.

You noticed a tear roll down Andrea’s cheek, something Dr. Jenner had picked up on as well.

“She lost somebody two days ago.” Lori explained. “Her sister.”

“I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is.” Dr. Jenner nodded. “VI, scan to the second event.”

“Scanning to the second event.”

“The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes.” Dr. Jenner explained. “The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds.”

A red glow began to flicker at the base of the brain, as the rest of it remained dark. Sparks shot out into larger areas of the brain.

“It restarts the brain?” Lori asked.

“Just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving.”

“But, they’re not alive?” Rick asked.

Dr. Jenner pointed to the monitor. “You tell me.”

“It’s nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark.”

“Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn’t come back. The you part.  Just a shell driven by mindless instinct.”

The subject on screen began to move, its mouth opening and closing as its head thrashed from side to side. Suddenly, the barrel of a gun appeared by the forehead and a bullet entered the brain. The red clusters slowly disappeared as the brain went dark and the subject stopped moving.

“God, what was that?” Carol whispered.

“He shot his patient in the head.” Andrea spoke. “Didn’t you?”

Dr. Jenner turned away, beginning to head for the door. “VI, power down the main screen and the workstations.”

“Powering down the main screen and workstations.”

“You have no idea what this is, do you?” Andrea pressed.

“It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal.”

“Or the wrath of God?” Jacqui asked.

“There is that.”

“Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere.” Andrea spoke.

“There are others, right? Other facilities?” Carol inquired.

Dr. Jenner shrugged. “There may be some.”

“But you don’t know?” You asked. “How can you not know?”

“Everything went down. Communications, directives—all of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month.”

“So it’s not just here.” Andrea whispered. “There’s nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That’s what you’re really saying, right?”

Daryl shook his head. “Man, I’m gonna get shitfaced drunk again.”

“Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question,” Dale spoke. “But that clock—it’s counting down. What happens at zero?”

“The basement generators run out of fuel.”

“And then?” Rick asked.

Dr. Jenner ignored him, fully stepping out of the room.

“VI,” you started. “What happens when the power runs out?”

“When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.”

You all exchanged glances, whispers erupting through your group. Whatever that meant, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“We have to go check.” Shane spoke.

“I’ll go with you.” Rick nodded. “Everyone else, back to your rooms.”

…

After sitting in your room for a while, the lights and air conditioning shut down. You peeked your head out the door, noticing the others slowly emerging from their own rooms.

“Why is the air off?” Carol asked.

“The lights are out too.” You commented.

“What’s going on?” Daryl asked, stepping out of his room with a whiskey bottle in hand. “What is everything turned off?”

Dr. Jenner walked by, grabbing the bottle from Daryl and taking a sip. “Energy use is being prioritized.”

“Air isn’t a priority? Lights?” Dale asked.

“I don’t make the rules. Zone five is shutting itself down.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Dr. Jenner kept walking, ignoring your question.

“Hey,” Daryl yelled. “Answer her.”

You all followed him down the hall, into the main room once more.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” You shouted. “What do you mean it’s shutting itself down? How can a building even do that?”

“You’d be surprised.” Dr. Jenner responded coldly.

Rick and Shane came running towards your group.

“Jenner, what’s happening?” Rick asked.

“The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It’s designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule.” Dr. Jenner took another sip from the bottle. “It was the French.”

“What?” Andrea asked.

“They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution.”

“What happened?”

“The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?”

Shane stepped forward. “Let me tell you–”

“To Hell with it, Shane. I don’t even care.” Rick spoke. “Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!”

An alarm began to sound, stopping you all in your tracks.

“Thirty minutes to decontamination.” VI spoke.

“Doc, what’s going on here?” Daryl asked.

Dr. Jenner once again ignored the question, scanning his badge and entering a code into a security pad.

“Y’all heard Rick.” Shane mumbled. “Get your stuff and let’s go. Now!”

As you all ran towards the door, it whirred to life, slowly closing in front of you.

“Did you just lock us in?” Glenn asked. “He just locked us in!”

Dr. Jenner sat down at a computer. “We’ve hit the thirty-minute window. I’m recording.”

“You son of a bitch!” You hissed, running towards him.

Before anyone could reach you, you grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his hand, smashing it on the floor. Daryl quickly joined you, trying to grab Dr. Jenner but being pulled away by Rick and Shane.

“Let me go!” Daryl screamed.

“Jenner, open that door now.” Rick spoke.

“There’s no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.”

“Well, open the damn things.” Dale responded.

“That’s not something I control. The computers do.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn’t open again. You heard me say that. It’s better this way.”

“What is?” Rick asked. “What happens in twenty-eight minutes?”

Dr. Jenner typed on the computer.

“What the hell happens in twenty-eight minutes?” You pressed.

Dr. Jenner stood from his seat, shouting. “Do you know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don’t want getting out! Ever!” Everyone stared at the man as he regained his composure, sitting back down. “In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.”

“H.I.T.s?” You asked.

“VI, define.”

“H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermo baric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 degrees and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.”

“It sets the air on fire.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “No pain.”

Carl and Sophia erupted into tears, clinging onto their mothers.

“An end to sorrow, grief…regret. Everything.”

You clenched your fists, stepping towards the man once more. “Open the door right now.”

Shane grabbed a fire ax that was leaning against one of the desks, running at the door and beginning to hit it. Daryl grabbed the other, joining him.

“You should’ve left well enough alone. It would have been so much easier.”

“Easier for who?” Lori spat.

“All of you. You know what’s out there. A short brutal life and an agonizing death.” Dr. Jenner turned to Andrea. “Your—your sister—what was her name?”

“Amy.”

“Amy. You know what this does. You’ve seen it.” Dr. Jenner looked at Rick. “Is that what you really want for your wife and son? Your sister?”

“I don’t want this!” Rick snapped.

Shane walked back to the group. “We can’t make a dent.”

“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher.”

“Well, your head ain’t!” Daryl yelled, swinging his ax at Jenner.

Dale, Rick and Shane held him back.

“You do want this.” Dr. Jenner spoke to Rick. “Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead.”

You looked at your brother, face pale. “You said what?”

Shane shook his head. “After all your big talk, you really said that?”

Rick looked between you and Lori, his face soft. “I had to keep hope alive, didn’t I?”

“There is no hope.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “There never was.”

“There’s always hope.” Rick responded. “Maybe it won’t be you, maybe not here but somebody somewhere—”

“What part of ‘everything is gone’ do you not understand?” Andrea asked.

“Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event.”

“This isn’t right.” Carol shook her head, now crying as well. “You can’t just keep us here!”

“One tiny moment—a millisecond. No pain.”

“My daughter doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

“Wouldn’t it be kinder, more compassionate just to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?”

Shane grabbed a shotgun, cocking it and aiming it at the man’s head.

“Shane, stop it!” Rick commanded.

“Out of the way, Rick!” Shane snapped, his eyes locked on Dr. Jenner. “Open that door or I’m gonna blow your head off. Do you hear me?”

“Brother, brother, this is not the way you do this. We will never get out of here.”

“Shane, please listen to him.” Lori pleaded.

“It’s too late.”

“If he dies, we all–”

Shane let out a scream, shifting his gun to the computer and beginning to shoot off rounds. Rick screamed his name, wrestling the gun out of his hands. Shane fell to the floor.

“Are you done now?” Rick asked, panting. “Are you done?”

Shane caught his breath, standing back up. “Yeah, I guess we all are.”

Rick turned to Dr. Jenner. “I think you’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying about no hope. If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dr. Jenner whispered.

“It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?”

“I made a promise.” He responded, pointing to the screen. “To her. My wife.”

“TS-19 was your wife?” Lori asked.

“She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?” Dr. Jenner asked. “She was dying. It should’ve been me on that table. I wouldn’t have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world.  Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field she was an Einstein. Me? I’m just… Edwin Jenner. She could’ve done something about this. Not me.”

Rick shook his head. “Your wife didn’t have a choice. You do. That’s—that’s all we want—a choice, a chance.”

“Let us keep trying as long as we can.” Lori spoke.

Dr. Jenner was silent for a moment. “I told you, the topside is locked down. I can’t open those.” 

He walked over to the security pad he’d used earlier, typing in a code. Suddenly, the door slowly opened once more.

“Come on!” Daryl screamed, waving everyone over.

As everyone began to run towards the door, you stood still, paralyzed. Rick looked back, noticing that you hadn’t moved.

“Y/N, we have to go now.” He spoke.

You shook your head. “I-I can’t.”

Rick signaled for Lori and Carl to go with the others before heading back over to you. “We don’t have time for this. I need you to come with me. Please.”

“You said you knew we were all going to die.” You choked out. “What if you’re right? I don’t want to die out there. Not the way everyone dies now.”

“I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Rick frowned. “What did you say back in the city?”

“What?”

“Back in the city, you said we needed to stick together. That’s the way we get things done.” Rick spoke. “That’s still true. If we’re together, we will make it. We will survive. Please, don’t do this.”

You looked off to the side, noticing that Jacqui was sitting with Dr. Jenner. Andrea sat on the floor, with Dale across from her, pleading for her to go with him. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to die; you wanted nothing more than to live a long, happy life with the people you loved. You were just scared, now more than ever. What if Dr. Jenner was right? Would you regret not staying?

“Please.” Rick begged once more.

Your thoughts drifted to your nephew and suddenly, you knew you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t do that to him.

You nodded vigorously, wiping your eyes. “Okay.”

Rick smiled softly, pulling you out of the room. When you arrived at the main entrance, everyone was scrambling to break through the glass windows to escape.

“Man, we’ve tried everything.” Daryl spoke.

“Wait,” Carol mumbled, reaching into her bag. “Rick, I have something that might help.”

“Carol, I don’t think a nail file’s gonna do it.”

“Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform I found this in your pocket.” Carol pulled out a hand grenade. 

Rick looked at it, then back up at her before grabbing it from her hand. “Everyone, get back!”

Everyone took cover, peeking over at Rick as he removed the pin and placed the grenade on the window sill. He stepped back, running away as quickly as his legs would take him. 

The grenade exploded, sending Rick flying through the air as the glass shattered behind him. Everyone wasted no time, standing up and running towards their only exit. 

Walkers surrounded the building, you all knocking them down as you raced towards your cars. Nobody spoke, too focused on making it as far away from the building as possible.

You made your way inside Dale’s RV, rushing to the window to watch for him. Praying that even if Andrea stayed, he wouldn’t. As your hope was beginning to run out, the pair appeared in the window of the building, climbing out to freedom. Rick honked his horn in the car behind you, screaming for the two to get down. 

Dale and Andrea climbed behind some sand bags in the grass, just before a loud explosion went off. You watched as the building collapsed in a fiery blaze, swallowing all the walkers close by. Nearby cars and trucks exploded as well. 

As the explosion died down, Dale and Andrea stood back up, running towards the RV.

“Get in!” Glenn spoke, opening the door for them.

The two nearly fell into the RV, both panting loudly. Dale reached for Andrea, but she pushed his hand away, crawling further inside.

With no real plan of what to do next, Dale climbed in the driver's seat and began down the road you’d come from just yesterday. You continued to stare at what used to be the CDC, a thick cloud of black smoke filling the Atlanta sky. 

If you had stayed, you’d be dead right now. You wouldn’t have to worry about where you’d land next. You wouldn’t have to worry about where you’d get your next meal, or when you’d finally be able to sleep again.

Regret started to settle in as you watched the remains of the CDC slowly disappear behind you.

----

AN: There we have it, the finale of season one! I honestly can't believe we're here already. I really hope you enjoyed this season and are excited for the future of this series. I've tried to set up a few different things moving into season two. There might be a mini break between seasons, but I will be working away on writing in the mean time. If you enjoyed, please remember to like/reblog <3

[kmazine]

I Can't Have You

bestfriend!jinyoung x female reader

genre : angst

For some reason, the walk back home feel so long and painful.

"Why it can't it be me?"

"I love you, Jinyoung"

You silently mutter under your breath. The words that you couldn't even say to him. The tears you don't bother to wipe, streaming down your face.

"Jinyoung, you okay?" You ask your best friend over the phone when your best friend called you an hour ago. It was late at night so you wonder why he call.

It was silent for a few seconds until you heard sniffles taking over the background noise that you register was from some television show. You didn't think much more. You immediately jump out from your bed and run towards your door.

"I'm coming" You heard Jinyoung replied with a sad hum and probably a nod, and that makes you fasten you steps. Luckily his apartment is not that far so you already in his apartment within minutes.

"Hey, you okay? How many days you've been drinking like this?" Closing the door behind you and took off your shoes, you can see few empty bottles of soju on the floor next to him. You immediately sit beside him on the floor. Your heart sank at the way his shoulder slouch, arms hugging his knees. He looks up to you when he hears your presence. And you look at him. Eyes swollen and he looks gaunt too. You scoot next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulder, hoping that you'd bring him comfort.

"We- we broke up" His tears starts to roll down his cheeks again as he said that. You let out a pain sigh, slowly wiping his tears with your fingers and pat his head softly.

"It's okay, Jinyoung. You will get through this. You will be fine okay?" You still stroking his hair, like an adult trying to persuade a child to not cry over candies.

"But I really love her, Y/n. It's been a few days and it hurts me that I can't see her face and listen to her voice. I can't do this Y/n. I miss her so much I feel like -- my heart..." He sniffled between words and voice quavering at the last part as he tapping his chest harder each sentences as if that will ever chase the pain away. You take his hands away and give him a tight grip, as to tell him, you're there for him. Your heart clenched to see him like this.

You know falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea. You've been liking him even before you became friend. Stealing glance at him during the class or sometimes exchanging smiles and nods when you saw each others is your definition of happiness back then. Then one semester, you and Jinyoung were assigned together for university projects and both of you clicked right away and the next thing you know, you two are inseparable as best friends. When you thought it's going to be easy for you and your feelings, but it was far from that.

Because from then on, Jinyoung see you as his best friend and best friend only.

Then start the cycle of your crumbling love story. You listen to his sobbing stories after the break ups like a best friend do. He try to match you with his other good friends because as a best friend, he want to see you happy with a good guy. Once, you ended up help him with the girl he likes because he just can't stop begging you.

Even after graduating and working on different companies, the cycle never end. And that's why it's hard. It's harder now to confess and tell him you love him. After everything, after all these years.

Especially this time, the relationship didn't seems like the others. He wasn't just smitten, and she didn't seem like the other girls she dated in the past. As much as you hate to admit it, he's definitely in love. You never thought they'll break up if you're being honest. She's a perfect woman any man can ever wish. It was perfect, as if they're actually made for each others.

You know asking him what happened now wont help him so you decided to make him a meal and tea to calm himself down. It was hard forcing the man to eat but you do every way you can and he finally give in.

"I don't know what will I do without you. Thank you Y/n" He give you a sad smile as he lays down on the couch. Deep sighs never left his mouth. You put the empty bottles in a plastic and put them aside and clean his messy living room.

"Glad I could help. You look too miserable for me not to to do that. I know it's hard but please, do not skip meals." You grabbing the blanket to cover his full body.

"Y/n?" He called for you so you lower yourself so your eyes meet on his level.

"Is it always this hard after the break up? It hurts so much. How can love be this painful huh? "He chuckles - probably knows how pathetic and sad he sound right now. You didn't say anything, just let him rambles more and give him another sympathetic smiles.

You make sure he was sleeping when you decided to leave. You're about to close the door when you heard his phone rings. You can hear Jinyoung shuffles to get up and the last thing you heard his voice saying her name. You closed the door shut, hoping that your heart closed the same for him.

There is a person that you can’t have even when you love them,

Just look at me, I’m next to you but I can’t have you,

I can’t have you.

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

a.n : this one have been sitting in my draft for months now. This is based from Bank's I Can't Have You (korean old song) and the lyrics are just heart breaking so here we go. Again, please do not mind the grammatical mistakes and typos. I will fix it later from time to time. Because the more I re-read, the more I want to delete this so I'll just post first.

[charmtale]

people give the 90s anime starlights a lot of shit and frankly it's not my favorite incarnation of the trio either despite everything i'm about to say. BUT imagine everyone on your entire planet was killed (+your job is to keep them alive, so you're a complete failure) and your princess (your job is especially to keep her alive) ran away and you have to chase her to some random other planet where you think she maybe is and in order to get her attention you become a ✨Pop Sensation✨ (it's a suboptimal plan yes. let's not even start) but while you're doing this the minions of the woman who razed your whole planet show up here too and you end up having to still be a senshi on the side. so like when do you even sleep between adapting to an alien world and saving the solar system senshi and giving concerts and going to highschool and dealing with fans and appearing on seemingly every single televised event in tokyo? (you know, in case kakyuu genuinely missed nagareboshi e constantly playing on every single radio station all this time but she'll be attending that random ass game competition happening in episode 191)

you're exhausted. you're doing this for months feeling like you're getting nowhere. but one day it finally turns out your princess is alive! she decides to show herself not because of you three but because sailor moon is in danger. i know sailor moon is the most important princess ever so kakyuu did need to save her but god that's gotta sting And she literally even says 'Yeah i was watching you all along but i didn't say anything lol sorry'. ????? i don't care about her 'i had a Mission + i was hiding from galaxia' excuse because if anything the starlights with their highly distinctive appearance constantly screaming !!!HEY SPACE PRINCESS! COME HERE!!! onstage would attract galaxia's attention the most. just leave a note in their room in kinmokuese that says "hey i'm alive but choosing to hide so please stop shouting about me at maximum volume in front of millions"... regardless then she fuckin dies like two days later (to protect YOU) so she was actually completely right not to trust you with her safety

oh also 66% chance you're annoyed because your leader will not stop flirting with sailor moon no matter how much you remind her you guys have things to do + her actions are pushing the outer senshi to be even more antagonizing towards your group

and 33% chance you're annoyed because your two teammates don't want you to interact with sailor moon even though she's one of very few sources of positive feelings/comfort you have amidst all this and you're very concerned for her well being. either way you have some tension even within your group of 3

I just think if I were in such a situation I would be somewhat out of character myself. and yeah probably more withdrawn and asshole-y than usual... perhaps i would even make less logical decisions than usual - and certainly once my princess died in front of me after 2 episodes of existing, in one of which she confirmed that she had continually chosen not to give me any sign of life at all, i would also not care about the solar system senshi and immediately run into galaxia's living room to get murdered (WHICH THEY ALSO COULDN'T EVEN DO RIGHT AND THEN THEY HAVE TO SPEND THE LAST 5 EPISODES GETTING THE SHIT BEAT OUT OF THEM WHILE ONCE AGAIN WATCHING EVERYONE DIE AROUND THEM)

look at her??????!?!?!?! :(????

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, alcohol

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

You couldn’t deny what your body had yearned for, for so long. It was like calling to like. Two souls finally merging in the most innocent yet passionate way.

   Jax’s hands were on either side of your cheeks, pulling you in close for such an intimate kiss. And you couldn’t help but melt into it. Like

 And yet you were instantly reminded that there was a room full of people who were watching intently.

You heard a cough; Gemma, who shrugged and shook her head with her hands in the air. The other Sons had stopped jeering, and funnily enough it was the silence that pulled you from the moment.

Backing away, you gently held your palm up to Jax’s chest.

 Shaking your head, face ablaze with red, you walked backwards and down the hall.

You paced back and forth, mind swirling with thoughts. Your head felt heavy, your limbs slow and aching.

How could he do this now? Was it supposed to be a romantic gesture, to show all his club that you were with him?

You were fighting with yourself. Split down the middle. One part aching for the smooth, supple feel of Jax’s lips. The warmth that spread throughout your body.

And the other half was … angry. Why now? After you proved yourself? After enduring enough trauma that Jax now knew you could handle club life?

Fuck.

                                                           - ✦ -

“Hey, what was that?”

   “Wh-“ You stopped yourself and held up a hand, while the other pinched the bridge of your nose. “What the fuck do you think it was? Am I supposed to forgive and forget everything that happened? Now you want me, now. As if what happened was some sort of fucked up test. And finally you see my strength. No Jax-“

  You barely took a breath between each sentence. He didn’t interrupt you, but shook his head with pleading eyes.

   “No – no, that’s not it at all,” Jax stepped forward and tried to take hold of your hand, but you moved it out of reach. Taking a step back you pulled at the black club shirt you were wearing and felt the urge to tear it off.

  “I am capable Jax. I always have been. Why did it take you this long to figure it out?”

Your eyes glossed over, and you damned your emotions. ‘Do not cry. Do not fucking cry,’ you said in your fuzzy head. Did you still feel this way because of last night, or because of the kiss? Either could be possible. Because both shook you to your core.

Even so, last night felt like a haze. And you couldn’t remember all the details. Only that your nails were bloodstained, even though Jax tried his best to scrub everything from you. He’d do anything to erase any hurt you held. Not just because of him, but because of the world. He hated that you ever had to endure pain. On any level.

                                                          - ✦ -

“I want to go home.” Your words were a precise demand. You didn’t want to talk any longer, you didn’t even want to look at Jax.

And he saw that. Jax knew it was pain, because he saw that same look in Tara’s eyes when he said she wasn’t apart of this family, all those years ago.

Was…was he doomed to repeat the same thing over and over again? That was apart of his fear. Why he didn’t want you close. Because too close meant danger, just like last night. Would that happen again?

So, he got Happy to give you a ride back home. And told him to stay a while, make sure you were okay. Give you some company. Even if you didn’t want any.

                                                          - ✦ -

“Happy, really, I’m okay,” you said, walking into the kitchen. The dog’s had been fed – you could tell by the way the food had been put back.

   “What if I wanted some company?” His light hearted yet gruff voice filled the room.

You huffed and shook your head. “Then go find a croweater.”

 He gave you ‘fucking really?’ kind of look and plopped himself on the couch. Picking up the remote, he turned on the television and flicked through the channels.

Rolling your eyes, you set out to find your boys. Angus and Jango were laying on the foot of your bed, and when they heard your footsteps, they lunged upward. They knew you well.

  Tails wagging and a little whining, you gave the Doberman and Border Collie good belly rubs. You got on the floor, and they surrounded you. Safe. Completely safe is what you felt. Their bodies rested against yours, and you sighed in relief. You couldn’t think about what would’ve happened to them if something happened to you.

   “Hey, you hungry?” Happy called from the living room and the two dogs jumped up and ran down the hall.

“Traitors,” you mumbled, and answered back with a hesitant yes. The dogs knew Happy, they’d been around him for many months. He would have been the one to come around and feed them last night. Or was it this morning? You didn’t know – either way, if it was any other man, he would have been ripped apart.

“Aight,” was all you heard as you walked into your bedroom and undressed. You still had on the borrowed clothing, and right now, you desperately needed it off.

 Even from your ensuite, you could hear the clanging of pots and pans. You assumed Happy would go out and get something, but apparently now, you had a personal chef.

You didn’t know what you had in your pantry or fridge. The milk was definitely expired. So, your expectations were low, but after showering and changing, you came out to the kitchen to find an absolute feast.

 “Didn’t know if you wanted scrambled, fried, or poached eggs. So, I’ve-“ there was a ding and Happy stopped mid-sentence to check on the currently poaching eggs.

 With raised eyebrows, you sat at the kitchen bench which was full of plates; toast, scrambled eggs, two omelettes, baked beans, and an array of your spreads – peanut butter, jam, well…just those two.

   “Wow Hap, this is –“

“Man, you barely have any food in this place. The dogs have more than you,” he said while straining the pot and carefully plating the poached eggs.

 You felt a little blush creep onto your cheeks, but you shrugged it off.

“Hey, don’t criticise the recent kidnappee,” you said and threw your hair from your shoulder.

  Putting his hands up in surrender, Happy smiled.

“Yes, ma��am.”

                                                          - ✦ -

The day felt long yet short at the same time. So much had happened, and eventually you were glad for Happy’s company.

But you didn’t know what you wanted. Actually, that was a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, you were just scared it wouldn’t come true. That everything had been misconstrued in your mind; the kiss – maybe it was a façade? A way to make the club feel like Jax was still in power. That even a helpless damsel who had just endured trauma would fall into his arms willingly.

But you knew the club; you knew the club brothers. And they knew you.

Surely they didn’t believe that? No…no they couldn’t.

Happy was watching you think these things, and he could see the deliberation cleanly on your face.

   “You good?” He said after ten minutes of silence. The tv sounded in the background but Happy’s attention was solely on you.  

 The question was muffled, you were so deep in your thoughts that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Huh?” You replied. Dragging your eyes to meet Happy’s.

   “Are you okay, Zo?” His question was heavy with concern. No light-heartedness like there was twenty minutes ago.

“I-,” the words were ready on your tongue but your voice ceased to make noise. This felt too … personal. Awkward. It felt exactly like talking to your brother about romance. So, how could you talk to Happy about this?

    “If it’s because of last night; it was handled. If it was … the kiss, then you’re overthinking it.”

“What?” There was a snap in your voice. You felt a tad offended.  

   “The kiss, with Jax.” His face was stone, no humour in it at all.

“How can I not?” You said with furrowed brows and squinted eyes. You felt fire rise in your stomach, a want to aim your anger at someone.

   “It was … Jax was … it meant something. To him, he wouldn’t just do that with anyone. Not after Tara.” Happy explained, with some difficulty. His voice caught on Tara’s name.

There was a beat of silence.

 “But why in front of everyone? Why now?” You said quietly.

Another beat.

  “I-I don’t have the answer. No one can really … get inside Jax’s head right now.” It was an admittance to more than just the situation between you and the man that held the gavel.  

You sat back in your seat and rested your head against the back of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, you let out a big sigh.

                                                         - ✦ -

When Happy left; around five in the afternoon, you got a message. In all honesty the alert from your phone gave you a freight.

You didn’t have that many contacts, and you mostly got messages from Skeeter. But it wasn’t, it was from Jax.

  ‘We need to talk,’ it read. And your heart dropped to your stomach.

It took you a while to respond. Thirty minutes of deliberating of what to say, and another ten thinking if you should respond at all.

Was now the time? For you maybe not. But for him … it was. You didn’t know this, but Jax needed to mend whatever it was between you. He needed to know where he stood. Because Jax couldn’t stop thinking about you.

  All day he was being nudged on the arm by Tig.

“You good man?” He’d say, blue eyes firmly looking into his Presidents.

   “…yeah,” was all he could reply. Because his romance didn’t seem of concern for the whole club. Funnily though, it was. And it was Chibs who told Jax to message you.

   ‘Okay, when and where?’

You hesitated a second before sending it. Your stomach churned as you waited for his response.

Luckily he didn’t need to deliberate as you, because his response was quick.

   ‘Can I come over in thirty minutes?’

God. The house was a mess. You looked like a mess. You hadn’t cared how Happy saw you (neither did he). At least Happy cleaned up after himself. But you still had to vacuum the dog hair and brush your own, maybe wash your face and put on some deodorant.

                                                          - ✦ -

Thirty minutes went by in a second.

And you heard a knock on the door.

  Then your heart nearly exploded with how fast it was going.

“C-coming,” you called and put down the brush, racing from your bathroom to the front door. You waited a moment, to compose yourself, and then turned the handle.

Even though you knew he was coming, he still took your breath away.

Jax stood before you in a white shirt, his kutte, his baggy jeans and white shoes. His normal clothes. But somehow … he seemed different. Like he dressed just for you.

You could smell his cologne – it was freshly applied, his hair was slicked back and you noted the knife attached to him. You wondered how many times he had used that knife.

   “Hey darlin’,” he said in a soft voice.

“Hello,” you said back in greeting, without a softness to it.

You stepped backward and to the side, motioning for him to come in.

    “Thanks,” he muttered and stepped over the threshold. His shoes wiping on the mat.

You didn’t know the feeling of what this conversation would be, but you knew a drink wouldn’t hurt. 

 So, you walked into the kitchen and brought out a bottle of Rye and two glasses.

[queerlilchinchin]

With a Dash of Jealousy, part II

Read part I here.

--

Luc and I sat on the couch. I absently rubbed her head while we watched the show we'd been watching together for some time now.

As we both laughed, she let out a small hiss of pain and I glanced over to make sure she was okay, but she didn't even seem to notice she did it, as her eyes were still fixated on the tv screen. Her hand dug through the mixing bowl, which was half-full of popcorn I made just for her.

"I can't believe she really said that!" She gasped in horror as my eyes finally trailed from her face to glance back toward the television. I remained quiet, having not heard what was said but not wanting to admit it. I'll watch the episode again later when she isn't being so distracting.

I became acutely aware of her scooting in closer and brought my hand back up to her head to start rubbing the sore spot again. It was all I could do not to laugh as she started practically purring with contentment as she pressed in closer.

Moments like these felt so special. It was hard knowing she had no idea how I felt, when we had such tender moments, moments unlike any I had with anyone else in my life. Or death.

She shoveled more popcorn into her mouth and crunched away as I thought about some other instances in the past when I'd tried my best to hold things in but she didn't notice anyway. Times when she was just being too... her and I couldn't help but embrace her. It was like she thought I was this way with everyone, even though she's never seen me like this with anyone.

Though, I suppose, to be fair, it took me forever to realize my own feelings, and I've lived with me my entire life... and afterlife.

She snorted out a laugh, bringing me back to present time. My vision became clear once again as I stared at the tv, hardly registering what was on it.

Would I ever be able to tell her how I felt?

"Hey! That's her!" Luc's voice cut into my thoughts as she pointed toward the tv. "That's the girl I met today! Natashya Drew!" Her finger jabbed at the tv as she stared at me excitedly. I inwardly sighed. This again. Perhaps it was better if I kept my thoughts silent. After all, I never saw her light up like this when she saw me. There was that pang from before again...

"Oh... yes, her," I said absently, refusing to say anything more. Luc's eyes met mine and I quickly glanced away from her, not wanting her to see anything revealing in my expression.

"What's with you, Chef? You've been acting weird since I started talking about her."

"I've not. I've just been worried... about you," I grumbled under my breath, refusing to admit the truth - even to myself. She looked unconvinced but said nothing further as her eyes returned to the tv. My lips pursed tightly together, though I kept quiet.

"Wow, isn't she incredible?" She asked as the person on the screen continued to ramble about some woman and her food psychic job. I glanced at Luc again, feeling the pang in my chest now but said nothing still. She didn't even seem to notice my silence.

I stood, not wanting to watch her squirm over another person anymore and grabbed the bowl out of her hand.

"I'm gonna grab you some more popcorn," I said. Again, she didn't seem to notice me as she murmured, "Woow..."

She was so in awe of this woman.

I was in awe of how clueless she was.

I sighed and walked to the kitchen.

The above images were made from a picrew created by @reelrollsweat :) Super cute picrew, by the way! I've created a few picrew images with it and it's just so cute and has a great variety.

Also in case you are going to be reading this mini-series, tagging you again @lordkingsmith

[princeescaluswords]

At this point, you should just compile everything you know about Teen Wolf (especially if my bby boy Scott is in the spotlight) into one BIG FILE OF GOOGLE DRIVE FOLDER and give them a link since they keep repeating the same thing over and over and over again.

And hey, I don't mind helping you compiling the stuff like same repeating/similar sounding asks, your old responses, transcripts and screenshot of proofs if you eventually do it. I feel bad for you and other Scott Defenders since I've followed you for a loooooong time and facepalming at the TW asks every now and then

Thank you for your compliments and your very kind offer, but I have actually been playing around with putting all the writing about Teen Wolf to a different use. I am in the "can I do this? should I do this?" phase, but I'm thinking of writing something off Tumblr for publication, using the work I've done here as a basis.

The book -- if it is a book and not an article or some other format and if it ever gets written -- will have three premises, which may or may not be sustained by the evidence I can gather.

Teen Wolf, its reception, and its fandom is an artifact of modern white culture (and not in a positive way). Foucauldian power dynamics and United-States-inspired consumerism have combined to empower and provide cover for a racist audience response that was hostile to a narrative focusing on a character of color over the course of the series and the movie.

The show's treatment is an example of how fandom culture has been enabled by Internet sites such as Tumblr, Twitter, AO3, and YouTube to somehow disguise their aggressive pursuit of decadent bourgeois values as revolutionary freedom from those same exact values. "Transformational fandom" has become all about making things palatable for a mainstream white culture that likes to flirt with the forbidden.

For the production, the fandom's hostility and its aggressive behavior turned out not to be a bug, but a feature. In other words, certain choices in casting and plot may have been not just simple fan service, but fan service designed to provoke fandom racism in a way that would maintain interest in the production. After all, any sort of attention is better than none.

Of course, this whole idea of mine is in its earliest stages of writing. The thing about non-fiction writing is sometimes a great hypothesis turns out to be wrong. It will require research and a publisher. But that's where I'm at right now.

As an aside, it was inspired by three things. First, was the incredible hostility to the movie by the fandom before the movie even premiered. The intensity of that hatred for a follow-up movie for a television show which hadn't been on for five years is unique and worth exploring. Second, there was a quote from Tyler Posey about how, when they first started filming Teen Wolf, Jeff Davis told him how his ethnicity would help the production. The quote didn't contain any further elaboration, but, obviously, from the result, Davis wasn't counting on what rightists would call "woke points." Finally, there was a direct quote from Jeff Davis about how the writer's room had determined Mason Hewitt was "too good" to suffer consequences of being host for the Beast. I've always hated that statement for its obvious intersection with racism and ableism.

It does occur to me that perhaps this wasn't just a confluence of random events that created this specific fandom phenomenon. Perhaps Jeff Davis and the production staff noted this aspect of fandom culture and had a strategy for integrating it into the show. I would never say that they meant for the hostile interpretation of characters of color to be taken as true -- it's obviously not -- but I might want to explore if they didn't promote the hostility in a way designed to enhanced the show's reception.

Again, I'm at the very beginning of the process. Your question pushed me farther down the road.

[ablizmal]

「 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 」

selfship || 845 word count || my first ever fic lol

hey. do you guys ever, uhhhhhhhhh,,, fall in love with the goofy (affectionate) detective man from death note? no? well i have, and i’ll never shut up about it hahajajdsjdksdjsjaha///

you can find an introductory post explaining the barebones of lawliz (L x me heeheehee <3) in the tag “self ship promo”! (i can’t link it or else this won’t pop up in any selfship tags x_x)

ALSO the letter’s words comes from a show!! i’ll reblog with link after i post this, so check that out for more context :>

N E ways, onto the fic!! <3

❭❭┈┈┈┈❥‧┈⎻‧♡⎻‧‧❤︎‧⎻‧┈┈➤

❭❭┈┈┈┈❥‧┈⎻‧♡⎻‧‧❤︎‧⎻‧┈┈➤

(please note that anything stricken out is subconscious to L! thank you!! ^o^)

Several people have expressed their admiration for L throughout the years, whether through television media or online text. L understands, he knows what he’s doing is, overall, having a positive effect on the world.

But. But. Despite it all, despite the countless compliments he’s gotten, he finds himself reading this sleep hazy one over and over again.

“I loved you from the moment that I saw you, you’re my hero, I believe in you. There’s nothing you can’t do. You make a difference in the world.

And you make all of the difference
in the world to me. ⸝⸝^ˬ^⸝⸝”

Why… is that? And why is his heart rate accelerated? Has he not been given a compliment in that long?

…No. That couldn’t be the case. He’s overheard the Taskforce members state their awe about L and his tactics whenever they’re on call. He felt the common gratitude he typically does and filed it away into the “I’m smart, I’m good at my job, I’m good for my cause, I’m useful” compartment of his brain. So what is it about this slurry of words that makes him so captivated, so—

His face… feels fuzzy. Why fuzzy? What does it mean? It’s such an odd sensation as well. It makes his cheeks feel a bit hollow, it makes him feel seen, more tangible, but it’s not uncomfortable. L places the letter down, fingers feeling light.

He considers all the angles. He’s gotten a compliment… his heart is racing (pitter patter, pitter patter), and his face feels strange and warm. And above all else, he can’t stop thinking about these strings of words.

Just then, L’s body filled with certainty. Of course. It should have been… obvious, in retrospect. But how could he have known before when this was rare?

L is taken aback and feels elated from Liz’s compliment. Perhaps even… giddy?

“Hmmmm…” He drops a few more sugar cubes into his coffee then stirs. He presses his thumb against his lip. “What an unexpected circumstance…”

He starts to dissect the passage that echoes in his mind.

“I loved you from the moment that I saw you”

L knew that was impossible. No one can ever fall in love with someone at first sight. That’s not how love works (he’s heard). Ultimately, this sentiment is used to signify that ‘yes, while it may not be true to have fallen in love with you when we first met, I sure wish it was true, for you.’

For him.

For… L.

Immediately, his eyes shot to the last sentence. He had no use to revisit the already known facts of sentence two and three. He notices his heart skip.

“And you make all of the difference
in the world to me. ⸝⸝^ˬ^⸝⸝”

L was fully aware at this point of Lizzie’s infatuation with him. That was no shock. However… which way did she mean this? Is it merely referring to the infatuation, or could she really… could L really impact someone’s life to this extent?

He’s not sure what that is like. Well, not really, anyways. L supposes, in a way, that Lizzie has altered his life in ways that are too overt to ignore. For the first time in his entire life, he has a friend, one who wasn’t aware of his genius and/or title. A person who liked him for… hm… he wasn’t sure what, but for some reason or other. They’ve spent time with him, or “hung out,” as she refers to it as. They’ve gone to the mall together, have watched countless movies, have talked about everything and anything. They’ve eaten sweets together, attending various café’s. And she agreed to this study with— for him. They agreed to this study for him, expanding his knowledge on this phenomenon that’s so commonly depicted in media.

Now that he thinks about it, Liz… never mentioned having any other friends. None. It simply never crossed his mind, other people, when they were together. (Hmmmm… together. He felt a twinge of happiness at the use of the word in regards to the two of them.) L halfheartedly considers if this line, then, implies that her world has changed due to the social contact, but he brushes it off just as quickly. No, it doesn’t fit, for he knew that Lizzie wasn’t the type to throw words around lightly (at least when it comes down to something serious).

So maybe… L has changed Lizzie’s world just by being him.

⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄

“Huh…”

⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄ ⁄

Incredible… how incredible… She likes L for him, she sees something in him that he’s not even certain of.

He takes a sip of his coffee. When the rim meets his lips, his motion ceases as he realizes the corners of his lips were curled. L… was smiling over this. He was smiling over Lizzie.

Quietly. He presses the cup to his lips. And proceeds to sip the entire contents of the sweet concoction in one go.

…Perhaps the thought of Lizzie making a difference in his life has more weight to it after all.

[gayhoediaz]

☕️ + the impact of streaming services on how we consume media (binging over longform storytelling wtc)

this is late i’m so sorry i meant to get to these earlier, but hey - let’s do this again. send me more ☕️!

this is such an interesting question, and i think that it absolutely depends. i do think that as a society, we are becoming more and more impatient, and we want things quickly, and the more technology develops, the greedier we become. (this is a little bit of a sidenote, but tiktok, for example scares me so much, even outside of the content. just the format. it’s a dopamine slot machine. the few times i have downloaded that app, i lose hours and hours on it and it’s genuinely terrifying. i’m not even having a good time, i just can’t stop scrolling.)

if you had asked me a couple of years ago, i think i would have had a completely different answer - but as of right now, i can’t think of any real benefits of the way in which streaming services serve us their television shows all at once. is there a dopamine rush when you have a whole new season of your favorite show (although i don’t know if i have ever loved a show that was released in that manner tbh) to watch all at once? absolutely!

but in the long run - i do absolutely agree that when we go back to long form television, it makes us impatient and unable to wait for stories to develop, and we see that in a lot of the critique that shows like 9-1-1 get when an episode isn’t received well. i don’t think you can judge an episode in and of itself as harshly as people tend to. you can judge it a little bit, of course - but you can’t say that a season or a storyline is trash when you’re nowhere near the end. it’s ungrateful and impatient, and i think that does stem from this dopamine rush that we’re used to these days.

not only are we used to being able to watch several episodes all at once - but if we’re even more impatient, we can always go to google or twitter or tumblr and look for spoilers. does this character die? does this relationship work out? who is the killer? when an entire season is released at once, we don’t have to wait. we have it all at our fingertips, and it makes us greedy.

outside of that, i think that it also makes our lives a little bit brighter in the longrun to have something to look forwards to every week. (for a period of time.) this is hardly an original thought, but what a treat to be excited for mondays or tuesdays or thursdays! rather than locking yourself in your room one weekend out of the year and swallowing it all down in one go. there’s no wondering, no theorizing, etc.

the reality is also that not everyone is going to have the time to watch it all at once, or maybe they won’t have time until a month after it comes out. (although to be fair - and i don’t know if this is a common experience - but i actually tend to procrastinate watching shows that are dropped in this way, even if i like them. it just feels like it’s so much at once.) and i think it’s incredibly unfair to the audience, to the creators, to the actors, etc, to judge a show’s performance based off of how many people watch it in the first week or two. this is also why we see so many great shows cancelled so quickly. i mean - most long-running shows did not have a great first season. but they were given a second anyway, and over time, the shows grow into what they were always meant to be. these originals don’t get that chance.

also in general, it’s a very special experience to watch long form television as it’s airing. especially if you engage in fandom. it’s an experience that you just don’t get if you were to binge the same show after it’s ended - and that’s what these instant drops really are. you just binge it immediately and you don’t savor it, you don’t theorize, you don’t think or wonder or question - and in my experience that’s the best part of watching television.

send me a ☕️ + a topic for an opinion

[that-was-tedious]

Bobby is my favorite character and I will not be taking any notes at this time.

I love every single other character/regular in this show. Buck is definitely a close second, also Chimney. I love them all tho. But Bobby is so human, and flawed, and he’s been so traumatized I’m unsure how he isn’t in a mental hospital (thank god for TV magic) but he still is everyone’s dad and he loves them all so much.

He adores his wife, he loves her kids as his own, he’s bffs with her ex husband, he’s adopted everyone at his fire station as his children and he loves them so much. He pushes Buck to be better, but also gives him the support he so desperately craves. Buck is just as good for Bobby, as highlighted in the lightning episode. Hen is seemingly always so sure of herself, but Bobby helps give her the validation she needs and support! (Athena Grant, you are also a wonder and Hen couldn’t have better friends.) And he treats Hen like the important member of the team that she is, no questions asked. Chimney’s life would be so drastically different without Bobby (as would all of their lives tbh) but he’d probably be dead so like. This one is slightly different from the others I understand but it’s early please forgive me. And Eddie! It seems like the epitome of “hey you’re my father in law and my own dad is kind of iffy so could you adopt me?” (Look, even if Buddie never becomes canon they’re a little married, to quote Turk from Scrubs. Buck does help raise Christopher and is an integral part of Eddie’s life as his best friend). But Bobby gives Eddie the truth when he needs it and he just loves his kids so much. He gets to be a dad, even after what happened to him. After EVERYTHING that’s happened to him. He’s in a happy, stable relationship, has a bunch of kids that love him to death, and he’s so human.

It’s not every day that a television show has characters that are this complex and human. Sure, they’d all be dead ten times over in real life (or in jail, or in a hospital, mental or otherwise) but the way they react to things is so much more realistic than most tv shows.

Also Athena and Bobby? Dream team. Crime solving duo. If they ever do another spinoff, please just let it be Bobby and Athena being “retired” and solving the most ridiculous crimes and cold cases wherever they go.

I miss his dynamic with May (and Harry, but he and May were much closer cause of the season where she was home and not at college) and I hope we get to see it again.

I just have a lot of feelings about Bobby. All of them really. (He doesn’t really interact with Maddie. She actually doesn’t really interact with anyone but Chimney and Buck very often which is kind of weird but also not? Idk she and Eddie should get together to make fun of Buck more often. Just two people, drinking beer and talking about one of the most important people in their lives and how he’s an idiot.)

Anyway, this has been a long rant to say that Bobby is one of my favorite characters ever and if anything ever happens to him I will sob like a baby.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

PS: let that man treat Ji like his granddaughter. He MARRIED them, give him the baby to cuddle and spoil rotten. Her real grandparents kinda suck and live far away.

Okay NOW I’m done. 💜

[adultswim2021]

Metalocalypse #42: "Dethmas" | December 7, 2009 - 12:40AM | S03E04

Hey, it’s the Metalocalypse Christmas episode. I don’t have any memory of this episode, and I actually think I may have stopped watching the show at this point? Not deliberately; sometimes I just let a show pile up to a point and realize “huh, I guess I don’t watch that show anymore”; sort of a “one day your mother puts you down and never picks you up ever again” kinda thing, because you kept relying on the same jokes over and over again. 

I try to strike a good balance between being positive and being critical but I also feel weird about withholding my true feelings. On one hand, this episode is “just okay”, and if I were to just be doing a simple passive Metalocalypse watch-through I’d probably shrug that this one was indeed “just okay”, and watch the next one with cautious optimism. The episode never really offended me with it’s lukewarm substandardness or rubbed me the wrong way in some uncharacteristic way. As I struggle to find something positive to say about this episode, I find myself realizing that I’m not just giving this student’s paper a C minus and moving on to the next. I’m now conducting an autopsy. 

This episode feels sitcommy. That’s okay, as long as it’s very funny. It has a few subplots that all sorta intersect at the end, but it doesn’t result in a huge explosive spectacle. The stories are: 1) Dr. Rockso is out of prison and looking to reconnect with Toki, who understandably wants to keep his distance from him. 2) Toki wants to celebrate Christmas, but the rest of the band isn’t playing along 3) Murderface has a Christmas special in the works. 4) Dethklok’s mothers all come to Mordhaus (and Murderface wants to fuck Skwisgaar’s mom). The episode culminates with the Murderface special being very bad; the main conflict being that it’s sponsored by the church, and the band finds this out as the show is underway, live on television. 

A fracas erupts when it’s revealed Dr. Rockso stole Toki’s presents for cocaine money. The presents were going to be used on camera as part of a live gift-swap segment. The rest of the band curses out Murderface for making them look like dorks. Dr. Rockso gets a handjob from Skwisgaar’s mom. Murderface’s grandmother is pinned under a big wooden cross. 

It doesn't help that nearly every plot in this feels like a rehash of a different, more effective episode. And, as far as spectacles go, the one that ends the episode is pretty tepid. Usually we expect massive amounts of death and gore and whatnot from this show. The parallel of Murderface trying to play it safe to secure big money from the church and this episode, PERHAPS UNIRONICALLY playing it safe by not going too far or too blasphemous makes me wonder if it was either an attempt at satire or a watering down of what was intended? Did the crew unironically decide to take the sanctity of Christmas into account and make an episode that isn’t too rough? Could it be Turner’s standards and practices at work, which hamstrung other Adult Swim shows in the past? If this is an attempt at satire about that very thing, then that’d be a little better. But that doesn’t magically make this episode funny. I can’t take back my lack of laughter. This one's a dud. 

EPHEMERA CORNER: 

Robot Chicken: The Complete Fourth Season DVD (December 15, 2009)

This was touched on earlier, but it's the only thing notable about this release in my opinion: season four of Robot Chicken included a somewhat subtle gag where each episode’s title was part of a larger whole message. Actually, it’s two messages, mimicking a letter and a response letter. The episodes were aired slightly out of order, but when presented in production order on DVD, they would present the message unscrambled, as if the episodes were named as a way to get a secret message out there. 

Help Me. I'm Trapped In a DVD Factory They Took My Thumbs Two Weeks Without Food Tell My Mom I Love Her But Not In That Way Love, Maurice P.S. Yes, In That Way

Dear Consumer We Are a Humble Factory Maurice Was Caught Unionizing Our Labor President Hu Forbids It Due to Constraints of Time and Budget The Ramblings of Maurice Cannot Be Erased, So Sorry Please Do Not Notify Our Contractors Especially the Animal Keith Crofford!

Apparently, Warner DVDs from this era are under scrutiny for being susceptible to disc rot, so please know that the “DVD Factory” in question was in Pennsylvania cutting corners that deprived me of being able to sell my very rare Space Ghost DVD for 150 dollars on eBay.

How much should I charge for that DVD with only one working disc? Some one might want it, right?

[storiesforallfandoms]

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

[rafescoke]

Older ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe falling in love with a Maybank wouldn’t be too bad.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse!, alcohol, getting intoxicated, sexual harassment, swearing, sweet Rafe Cameron

A/N: I don’t think this is my best fic, but let me know if I should continue this mini series!! thank you so much for 500+ followers, ily <33

p.s; you know the drill.. send requests!

(Y/N) wondered if a boy like him would ever like a girl like her.

It’s the soft touches against her skin, you see, that got her all worked up at work. She had a bad day at school, getting in a fight with her brother over not washing the dishes piling up in the sink, and there he was;

In his blue plaid shirt, his hair messily parted and that beautiful smile of his. He laughed at something the girl in front of him had said, and (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Go. Table 7.”

“What? I’m on my break!” She huffed, picking up her half-eaten sandwich and motioning it to the manager. “I have 10 minutes left.”

“We’re short of staff today,” he grunted, trying to balance the tray and an iPad on both hands. “Please.”

“Do I get more pay this month?”

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and handed her the tray as she wrapped the sandwich again. “Oh, can you tell your brother that he’s fired? He didn’t come for his shift again today.”

“Not my problem,” she mumbled, taking the tray into her hands before proceeding to the diners. Her eyes swept over the many tables, and stopped at the seventh table from the front.

Fuck.

She swallowed her saliva, trying to contain her nervousness as she walked towards the table. She hoped against hope he wouldn’t notice her and continue to talk to whoever she was in front of him, but she wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey,” Rafe said softly, looking up to her. (Y/N) smiled weakly, not wanting to pull any attention towards her and hurried up to serve them.

“Hey, um-” the girl before him stopped her, and (Y/N) turned to look at her with her usual server smile. She hates it. “The pasta’s cold, can I get a new one?”

“Come on, Dee, it’s not that big of a deal,” Rafe said, but (Y/N) tried her hardest to maintain the smile. She couldn’t care less about her pasta, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye if an animal had crawled into her meal.

“I’ll reheat it for you,” she smiled fakely, picking up the plate before walking back towards the kitchen. Her smile completely disappeared when she pushed through the door separating the dining area and the kitchen, and proceeded to the cook.

“Another bitch?”

“Another bitch,” she sighed, and watched as the cook laughed and placed the pasta in the microwave. “You know, John, I really wish I don’t have to work in a restaurant.”

“It gives money, so I ain’t complaining much,” he mumbled, fiddling with the buttons on the stove. “But you’re still so young, mija. Don’t stress yourself too much. Where’s the brother?”

“JJ? I don’t know. He didn’t even come to school today. I wish he’s a better brother.”

“He is,” he shrugged, watching the timer counted down to signal the end of the reheating process. “He’s just ain’t showing it. They’ll appear.”

“What’ll appear?”

“The love.”

(Y/N) laughed, flatting her tray against the metal surface to let the cook placed the reheated pasta. “There’s no such thing as love, John. It’s all made up for little girls to believe.”

“Are you not a little girl?”

(Y/N) smiled, muttered a ‘thank you’ before proceeding to table number 7. She took a deep breath and forced herself to form the most politest smile ever, and placed the pasta in front of the girl, or Dee, or whatever Rafe was calling her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, not looking at her, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but noticed the side glance Rafe had given her during their brief meeting, but she didn’t want to dwell so much on that thought, not when she needed to make an amount of money to help put food for her family.

“You’re back late.”

“Sorry dad, I was working,” she sighed, placing her house keys on the table. “Have you eaten?”

Luke swatted his hands, motioning that he’s content. (Y/N) sighed a breath of relief, not feeling like making him anything and was just asking out of politeness.

“Your pants are a little bit tight today.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, the sudden wave of fear engulfing her. She bit her lips before turning to her father, “It’s the only pair I have left. The others are still in the laundry bag.”

“Hmm,” Luke hummed, his eyes still intently glued on the television screen. (Y/N) heard the soaring of a football game, and prayed it was his team that had won the match so that he wouldn’t be as cross.

“I’m going to my room, okay?”

“Wait-”

Her chest was heaving heavily now, being so afraid of her own father that she could feel her tears starting to form. She forced a weak smile, “Yeah?”

She didn’t realise how he had gotten up from his previous seat in front of the television, being so caught up with the warnings inside her head. He leaned onto her, smelling her scent, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not out with any boys, are you?”

“No,” she whispered, and she gripped onto the hem of her work top. “Dad, can I please go?”

“Why are you so scared?” He continued, his pointer grazing against her ear to her cheeks. “I’m your dad, remember?”

“Dad?”

Luke pulled away from her and walked towards the television again when a certain blonde boy appeared from the front door, his eyebrows furrowed. JJ’s eyes followed his father’s movement, and ended at the sight of his sister.

The tightness in his body softened as he took a step closer to her, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, wiping the hot tears away from her face and giving him a weak smile. “I’m just going to stay in my room, okay?”

“Okay,” JJ said, watching as she walked slowly towards the back of the house. He glanced at his father, silent as ever, and muttered something under his breath before making his way to his room as well.

JJ Maybank hates Luke Maybank more than anything else in the world, but he also loves him more than anything else in the world. He had wished for nothing else other than his father actually being a father figure for (Y/N), if not him. He could see how much she needed Luke to become some kind of a guardian.

Every time there was a PTA meeting, it had been John to come and see her teachers. John had joked a lot of times before, saying how he’s going to adopt her one day, and when JJ was just 14, he used to get so overprotective of his sister that he would pull a face and gesture some kind of a rude word at him.

But if that's what it takes for her to finally be safe, he’s willing to lose her.

“Hey,” JJ knocked on her door softly, and he waited quietly to hear her shuffle of movements. He waited a few more seconds, and when heard the lock unlocking, forced himself a smile.

“Do you want to go to the bonfire party tonight?” He asked, raising his eyebrows to motion how serious he was. JJ never liked bringing (Y/N) to see the other pogues, and he had tried to assure himself that it was because of how she’s a year younger, but he couldn’t deny the real truth;

(Y/N) knew about his huge crush towards Kie, and the last time she hang out with them resulted into him having to tackle her down before she could say anything to the girl.

“Is Kie not coming or something?” (Y/N) made a face, but JJ could see the happy glint in her eyes.

“Can you drop that topic already?” He sighed, “Are you coming or not?”

“Um-” she glanced at something behind her back, sighed, and nodded slowly. “Okay. I guess I could use some time off schoolwork.”

“Don’t stress too much about school,” JJ shrugged, “You’re still 17.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Can you go, now? And oh, you’re fired by the way.”

“They love me, they’ll hire me again,” JJ shrugged, and gave her another comforting smile before making his way back to his room. “You know you can always tal-”

“No, I don’t know,” she groaned playfully, closing the door against his face as JJ laughed. His heart soared, and he swore he would do anything in his will to protect his sister from their father, heartbreak, or whatever.

. . .

“I missed you!” Kie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug and giving her a kiss on her cheeks. “God, you’re taller than me now.”

(Y/N) glanced at her brother, to which he was motioning his thumb against his neck, trying to tell her that he would kill her if she says anything to the girl. (Y/N) laughed, “I missed you too, Kie.”

(Y/N) situated herself beside Pope, watching as he flicked through his Chemistry text book, and scribbled something a note on one of the pages.

“Isotopes has the same number of protons but different number of neutrons,” (Y/N) mumbled, pointing to false knowledge he’ve written. Pope looked at her, amazed, and let out the loudest laugh ever that JJ had to scream from the front for him to shut up.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he continued to laugh, erasing his mistake and jotting down the correct information. “And you’re younger. Do you hear that JJ?”

“What?” JJ yelled back, his eyes focusing on the road.

“Maybe you should be as clever as your sister,” Pope laughed, and Kie gave him a high-five from the front seat. He turned to look at her again, “Where’d you learn that?”

“JJ’s text book.”

Pope laughed, his head shaking at the thought of JJ sleeping while his sister sneaked into his room to steal his text book. He finally understood the reason why he was always in detention for not bringing his book.

“Stay close, and don’t wander away,” JJ warned, staring straight into her eyes. She laughed at his tone, but her smile disappeared when he pulled her again.

“I mean it, (Y/N).”

“Are you seriously turning into dad, now?”

“Don’t mention his name,” he sighed, fixing his hair and walking before him with his friends. “Just stay close, okay?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, already seeing how boring her night was going to be; trying to understand the inside jokes between JJ and his friends, not being allowed to drink any alcohol and is going to be constantly asked to fix her ribbed top so not much of her skin is exposed.

She sighed, following her brother, but as soon as they got further away she felt the need to just hang out, maybe searching for her friends and getting a drink for herself. She was never a fan of alcohol, so JJ really didn’t have to worry about her getting drunk.

“You’re (Y/N), right?”

(Y/N) looked up to a pair of gorgeous green eyes, and she felt her heart sink. She looked away, not expecting her best friend’s boyfriend, and sighed.

“What do you need, Carter? I’m looking for Emily too.”

“Oh, she’s not coming,” he shrugged, standing beside her. She felt the sudden warmth and scooted further, not wanting to allow any attention towards her. “Something about a stomach ache.”

“Why aren’t you resting with her?” She pulled a look, crossing her arms. She didn’t want to talk to him or even look at him, but he didn’t seem to get that note.

“And pass up this year’s bonfire party? Nah,” he sipped on his red cup, and leaned against her. She could feel his lips beside her ear now, “Wanna get a drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Come on,” he expressed, throwing his arms up into the air in fake exasperation. “It’s a party. You cannot enjoy a party without being drunk.”

“Hm,” she shrugged, still not interested. She thought about what else she could say to get him away from her. “Worth trying, I guess.”

“You are damn impossible to please, Maybank,” Carter laughed, showing his pearly white teeth. (Y/N) smiled at this, taking the statement into a compliment, and made to walk away. He grabbed her wrist before she could get away, and she sighed in annoyance.

“One drink,” he smiled. “And I’ll leave you alone.”

(Y/N) thought about this, long and hard, and the sudden thought of wanting to be free for once entered her mind. She gave him a small nod.

“One drink.”

“One drink,” he confirmed, and pulled her to the drinks section. (Y/N) waited for him to get her a drink, her eyes swarming over the sea of people dancing, some talking, some already kissing and some just standing. This was her third bonfire party in Obx, and the party didn’t get any boring.

“Here you go,” Carter appeared, placing the red cup into her hands. “Let’s chug it down together. Are you ready? 1, 2, 3!”

(Y/N) scrunched up her face at the strong taste of vodka, feeling her throat burning. It felt good though, especially when you are in need to forget some hesvy things in your mind.

“What do you say?” Carter smiled, “Want more?”

“I’ll try more,” she laughed, giving him the cup as he muttered ‘I told you so’ and came back with another cup. They counted together again, and (Y/N) never felt better after drinking an intoxicating drink.

She didn’t remember why she never liked alcohol, but at that moment, she felt like drinking her money and family issues away. She didn’t even realise when Carter had placed his arms around her, telling her humourless jokes that she laughed at anyways.

“Wanna go to my car?”

“Huh?” She looked at him, half-smiling and half-frowning. She was at her 7th cup now, but being a lightweight person, she felt like she was on her 30th cup. “What for?”

“Driving around town,” he smiled, standing up and offering his hand. “Wanna drive around with me?”

“Just you?” She mumbled, closing her eyes. She could feel his arms around her, trying to help her walk, but she didn’t have enough energy to push him away. If anything, she was glad he had brought her away from the loud music that made her dizzy.

“Where’s the car?” (Y/N) whined, feeling her arms hurting from the rough grip by Carter. She could hear the crunch of twigs under her feet, and when she finally had an ounce of power to see her surroundings, she saw the empty car park near the beach.

“Carter, I don’t feel so good,” she said, trying to push him away. The grip around her tightened, and she had never felt so panicked as she was at that time. She tried to calm down, still looking for anyone who can help her, but the parking lot was deserted.

“Carter, I can walk,” she tried again, but he didn’t let go. She understood the whole situation clearly now, and wished she had stayed with JJ and his friends instead of wandering around by herself.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

Carter stopped walking, cursing while he turned to look at the voice behind him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling her arms bruising, and she couldn’t even glance up to see who it was that saved her. She could feel her eyesight getting darker as she leaned on Carter for some type of balance.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” Carter groaned, still holding her by his side. “Don’t you have anything to do? Like golf, or something.”

“Nah,” the voice replied, and (Y/N) perked up at the way his voice sounded. It was all so familiar to her. . .

“Look, Cameron, just go, okay? I’m not in your business, so stay out of mine,” Carter huffed, walking backwards slowly. “And she’s with me, right, (Y/N), you’re with me?”

“Let her go, man,” Rafe sighed, “I’m making it easy for you. Let her go.”

“Come on, I’m not letting you take her with you,” he shrugged, “Rafe. I swear. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“Aren’t you a little bit too old for her?” Rafe raised a brow, “Aren’t you my age, or something?”

“Fuck!” Carter yelled, and (Y/N) gasped from the sudden pain coursing through her veins at the jerk. “Go and fuck off.”

“You’re not leaving me a choice, man,” Rafe said, and before anyone could process, Carter was down to the ground, yelling at Rafe for him to stop as he kept throwing punches after punches, his forehead creasing and his knuckles ripping.

(Y/N) groaned from the ground, unable to get up, and she swore he had drugged her. She was never this weak, not even when she was sick, and she hated how she couldn’t even lift a finger.

“Don’t fucking touch her again!” Rafe yelled, spitting on the groaning boy as he grunted against the pain, his knuckles all bruised up and bloody.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Rafe asked, helping her to her feet. (Y/N) nodded, still so weak, and wrapped her hands around his arms as he watched her limped.

“You know what? Let me carry you,” he sighed, looking at the previous space where he had had a fight with Carter. He was nowhere to be seen now, and Rafe didn’t think he could fight him off for the second time, not when he’s tired.

“I can walk,” she mumbled, trying to push him off, but even a second after he let her go she tripped onto the road, and grunted at her burning knees. “My knees, oh my god, I’m in so much pain!”

“Let me carry you,” he sighed again, squatting to her level. She looked so sad, pouting her lips and her eyebrows all scrunched down. She shook her head when he tried to hold her, crossing her arms.

“(Y/N), let me carry you.”

“I don’t even know you!” She spat, her eyes glassy and her cheeks red. Rafe didn’t know she would be like this when she was drunk, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling.

“Of course you know me,” he tried again, slowly wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “It’s Rafe.”

“I don’t know any Rafe.”

“It’s Rafael Cameron,” Rafe rolled his eyes, cringing at the sound of his full name. He never liked the name, saying how it made him look like some type of a knight in 1823, but it was one of the only memories left of his real mother.

“I know a Rafael,” she nodded. “But he don’t look like you.”

“(Y/N), let’s just go before some creep decides to kidnap you,” he pulled her up, to which she obliged at the sound of ‘kidnapping’. “I’ll send you to your house, okay?”

“No!” She pulled him close, hugging him tightly that he was too stunned to react. His arms weren’t even touching her, stopping midway, and he only hugged her back when she cried.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” she whimpered, tugging on his collar. “And he’s going to beat me up and-”

“Wait, wait, who?” He pulled her off, watching as she looked at him with those eyes again. Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, his chest heaving. “Does JJ do-”

“Not JJ,” she cried, and pulled him towards a random car. “Can I please just stay with you until the next morning? Please.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe looked around, and he thought about Dee who was waiting for him at the party. He shook his head at the thought, not wanting to put her first. “We can stay somewhere else?”

(Y/N) nodded frantically, and Rafe thought about the truth behind all of her words. She was never this miserable, looking all happy when he sees her at the restaurant, taking orders with that goddamn smile and laughing at the unfunny jokes old men would give her just for some tips.

Without him knowing, the restaurant by the bay became one of his top favourite restaurants, but it wasn’t because of the food. Rafe never really liked their steaks, always preferring the one closer to the country club, but he was willing to put aside his cravings for that one certain waitress.

“Okay,” he nodded, leading her to the jeep parked a few cars away. She looked so tired, her hair messily tucked behind her ears, her makeup smudged, and Rafe felt a sudden wave of relief for being there in the parking lot to grab his phone in the car.

The drive was silent, and Rafe even thought that she had gone to sleep. When he looked at her from the corners of his eyes, he was surprised to see her silently staring at the dark view outside, unmoving.

He parked outside of the hotel he usually goes to when he’s in need for some alone time, checking the time on his phone before helping her out. She didn’t say a word to him, keeping her head down, only inching closer when they were on their way up to their room.

(Y/N) never been to a fancy hotel like this, only staying in a small hotel in Spain with her aunt 4 summers ago, so she was quite bewildered when she looked around the room. She bit her lips, staring at the one queen bed, and turned to look at him.

“Are we sharing a bed?”

“Oh, no, we don’t have to,” Rafe quickly said, trying to calm her down. “I think you should sleep it off. I’ll stay on the sofa.”

“Okay, thanks.”

But she couldn’t close her eyes. Every time she tried to sleep it off, she would think about Luke with his hands around her face, forcing her to look up to his eyes and whispering sweet-nothings into her ear. JJ never knew about this, and (Y/N) never wanted to tell him out of fear and disappointment, so she had been keeping the secret for a really long time.

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing,” he huffed, and (Y/N) heard him shift. The sound of a pillow hitting the floor blared throughout the dark room, and (Y/N) felt bad about letting him sleep on the sofa, especially when he was the one who had brought her to the hotel.

“You can stay in the bed with me.”

“Really? I can’t do that.”

“Why?” She asked, because she really didn’t mind sharing a bed with Rafe Cameron. It wasn’t like she was going to attack him.

“Just because.”

“Is it because you don’t like me?” She asked, and she heard an amused laugh coming from the sofa.

“Trust me, you’re wrong on that one,” he replied simply, and (Y/N) had to think of what he said again.

Wrong?

“Is it because I’m a minor?”

“We’re only 2 years apart.”

“So what’s the problem?” She pressed, because she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just sleep on the same bed as her. They didn’t have to be all pushed up to each other. . .

“Because,” he sighed, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of stuff.”

“Rafe, I don’t understand,” she closed her eyes, her mind woozy from the back and forth fight with the boy.

Rafe sighed again, licking his lips before standing up from the sofa. “Okay, but I’m not a creep, okay?”

“So it is because I’m a minor,” she nodded to herself, and she felt a sudden wave of disappointment. If only she was a year older.

“Whatever,” he breathed, trying to get the best position under the covers. He felt her fingers and quickly pulled his hand away, his heart beating.

“You’re weird.”

“I just said I’m scared,” he shrugged, and finally settled comfortably. He felt so much better now, not having to pull his legs together and crossed his arms just to fit on the sofa.

“What if I do want you to sleep with me on the bed?”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, Rafe, what if I do want you-”

“Shut up before I make you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she thought of the many times she had repeated this exact line in a movie and how she had romanticised her own scenario to that line. She never thought of Rafe Cameron as the protagonist, only imagining Timotheé Chalamet and no one else.

“You’re still drunk, okay?” He suddenly said, and (Y/N) bit her lips at his exasperated tone. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. I’m not Carter.”

“Okay,” she said softly, “I didn’t ask for you to fuck me, though.”

“Really? You’re begging for it right now.”

“I just want you to get comfortable.”

“Hm.”

“You’re full of yourself.”

“Yeah? You should see the eyes you give me at the restaurant,” he replied simply, and he could feel himself thinking of her slightly narrowed eyes, looking straight at him.

He shifted his position, placing a pillow against his front.

“Why didn’t you act on it?”

“Oh god, we’re still on this?” He grunted, “Go to sleep.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to fuck me?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and before she could think about anything else to say to him next, he had pulled her shoulders so that she could look at him.

She squinted against the darkness, using the moonlight as a source of light to stare into his beautiful blue orbs.

“I would fuck you, but I won’t do it when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You are, because-” he grazed his thumb against her bottom lip, and she had to hold her breath. “You’re not this open to me when you’re sober.”

“Isn’t it more fun, though? To fuck when you’re drunk?”

“I’d only do that if you’re my girlfriend.”

“So can I be your girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it tomorrow,” he smiled, and pushed her back to face the ceiling. “Now sleep.”

“What if I want to become your girlfriend now?”

“JJ will kill me.”

“Can you kill him back?”

“(Y/N),” Rafe sighed, being so tired of going back and worth with her on this. Of course he wanted to touch her, more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t do it when she was in a state like this. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good girl.”

“Okay.”

He waited a few more minutes, ready to answer any remarks, but what came after was only her soft snores. He sighed in relief, leaning on his arms as he stared at her. He watched as her chest heaved peacefully, feeling all kinds of emotions at once, and he finally realised the truth;

This time he wasn’t playing; Rafe Cameron would never bring a girl to a fancy hotel for nothing other than sex, but here he was; refusing her teasings, and keeping her safe. It finally hit him; he would bring (Y/N) anywhere if that’s the only way to keep her smile.

He shut his eyes, making a mental note to make fun of her drunk state in the morning.

#Part 2

-

taglist is closed atm! :(

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21

[silkscream]

could you do tom holland x fem!actress!reader

On Jimmy Kimmel interview, Tom was in backstage, Jimmy called him out. He take a seat. So Jimmy talked about Spider-Man No Way Home trailer (no more spoiler) also Jimmy would like another special guest was y/n. He was so surprise until he hugged her. They talked about each other

honestly, i don't have a lot of inspo for tom/this isn't usually something i'd write but i still wanted to do it just for u, anon 💌 yes, i got carried away. yes, this basically wrote itself.

pairing: tom holland x fem!actress!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestiveness maybe?

wc: 1.7k

a/n: one thing i realized while writing this is that i could never be famous or go on a talk show unless my PR team was okay with me acting exactly how aubrey plaza does in any setting.

“Our guest tonight is starring in one of the most highly anticipated movies this year, has taken America by the storm… or his webs rather, the man behind your favorite friendly-neighborhood Spiderman… please welcome Tom Holland!”

The crowd erupts into applause as Tom takes the stage, smiling with his pearly whites flashing the audience. He looks damn good in that suit, you think. He took your advice and wore a silk floral underneath, much to his begrudging that you were just trying to make him look more like Harry Styles.

“Hey Jimmy! It’s good to see you again.”

“Ah, always a pleasure, Tom,” Jimmy grins.

************************************

After a bit of banter and showing clips from the the No Way Home trailer, your attention has piqued to the television when your name comes up. Sipping your glass of lemon water in the green room, your eyes twinkle at the blush that creeps onto Tom’s face.

“Anyone in Hollywood you’d like to work with? Perhaps a fellow celebrity crush?” Jimmy asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Uh, probably Y/N Y/L/N,” Tom replies almost too quickly, nonchalantly sipping his water afterwards so he can block out the blush on his cheeks. It doesn’t make much of a difference — Kimmel’s caught him in his trap. “I mean, I worked with her because she had a smaller part in Cherry but we actually became pretty close.”

“Oh for sure, she’s absolutely beautiful. Zendaya’s MJ may have a run for her money if Y/N ever enters the MCU.”

“Hmm, I feel like you’re trying to get some information out of me, Jimmy.”

“Some rumors have been spreading around that the MCU may feature a female Spiderman… do you have any idea about that?”

“Well, Jimmy, if I did, I’m sure there’s somewhere in my contract that I get shot on-sight if I say anything,” Tom giggles. The crowd echoes his laughter.

“Well, Twitter definitely has some theories floating around.” Jimmy clicks the remote and the giant screen behind them fills with Twitter screenshots.

@hollandsgrl: i loveeee MJ but ill smack a b*tch to get the role of jessica drew any day to be close to tom

@tomspider23: did you guys see that leaked promo???? either peter parker’s grown some boobs or spider-woman is entering the multiverse.

@kingdomholland: OMG TOM AND Y/N ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER

Below the tweet is an image of the two of you both in in your Spider-suits with friends, seemingly for a planned Halloween party. The room is filled with “oooooohh’s” as Tom covers his face.

“Well, well, well, maybe this has confirmed it?”

“Oh my god, she decided to be cheeky and dress as Spiderman for the Halloween party. Kind of looks better on her, though, doesn’t it?” The look on Tom’s face is pure adoration. “It’s really funny actually, y/n and I were texting and she was like, kind of refusing to come because she didn’t have a costume. And I was like no, no, just put on some cat ears or something it doesn’t matter! And then I get to my own house because I’d had dinner with an agent that ran late and there she is in my kitchen dressed as me. It was just like that meme of the Spiderman pointing fingers.”

“Sounds like hell of a couples’ costume, then, right?” Jimmy teases. More laughter ensues and a bashful Tom hides behind his hands. A crew member enters the green room and gestures to you — you’re bound to get on stage within the next five minutes. Smoothing your dress, you glance in the mirror one last time to make sure your red lipstick is intact.

You walk onto the stage carefully and smile softly to the audience, putting a finger to your mouth to shush them. Despite this, some gasps come out, and Tom’s face becomes bewildered. “Sheesh, you guys are really all planning my wedding, aren’t you?”

“Can’t blame ‘em with all these paparazzi photos.” Jimmy clicks his remote again to show pictures of the two of you out and about in London. In one blurry picture that was posted on Jacob’s Instagram, you’re flashing a smile at the camera posing in front of Tom, who’s attempting to take back the attention with a hand on your waist.

“Please, Y/N is always trying to steal my thunder.”

“This is true,” you say bluntly into Tom’s ear, to which he yells immediately and puts up his fist. Everyone in the room is laughing and clapping with some “awww’s” as Tom clutches his chest in relief when he sees you, immediately ushering you onto the couch with a bear hug.

“Can’t even have my own interview. The star of the show is really here. Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N!” Tom exclaims, clapping and grinning as you twirl around to show off your knee-length golden dress. You look like a mixture of Zoe Kravitz and Taylor Swift VMA-core. He can’t take his eyes off you and pretends how to be casual completely, considering his arm is already resting on your shoulders. “Jesus, I thought you were still in London.”

“I had to surprise my favorite human spider,” you beam, squeezing his knee.

“Oh, man, are you guys gonna have souvenirs at your wedding? Save me a seat,” Jimmy chuckles.

“Behave, Jimmy,” you challenged. “You know what happened last time you said something like that about my one of my alleged lovers. We don’t wanna curse poor Tommy here.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen as he laughs along with the audience. You’re indirectly referring to your last boyfriend, a B-list actor that co-starred with you on a cancelled television show, who’s been up to his neck in scandals recently. Luckily, the press was focused on you and Tom and the romance that was blossoming between the two of you, though you still played coy when the two of you would be in public like this.

“So, Y/N, will we be seeing you in No Way Home or perhaps a future MCU movie?” Jimmy asks.

“Hard to say. Not sure if I could work with Tom on a big deal like that. Kid’s a piece of work, begging the crew members for juice box after juice box.”

Tom groans, putting his head in his hands. “Oh, god, Anthony started a smear campaign against me!”

“But given the chance, I’d definitely love to be Cindy Moon one day. Silk is just an awesome character. Or even Spider-Gwen. I used to pretend I was the one cuddling up to Andrew Garfield back in the day. He’s just so… dreamy.”

“Better be careful, Holland. You’ve got competition,” Jimmy retorts.

“Oh, please, I’ve already thrown a few punches to him on-screen,” Tom defends. You and Jimmy look at each other, raising your eyebrows before bursting into laughter.

“You’re getting in so much trouble.”

“What, was that a spoiler? Oh, c’mon, the entire internet and their mother must know!”

************************************

“This is still a PG-13 rated show, so these concoctions aren’t… too alcoholic,” Jimmy explains, setting down small glasses filled with colorful liquor mixed with God knows what.

“Aw,” you pout, to which Tom playfully smacks your shoulder.

“Okay, kids, classic Truth or Dare, but with a twist! You either answer the question if you get a question, do the dare if you get a dare. If you can’t do either, you’ve gotta drink!”

“Seems relatively easy. I’m a daredevil and an open book,” Tom nods, smiling. His accent is honey-sweet. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him in person. Maybe you were already intoxicated.

“Daredevil, huh? This one couldn’t even make it through Hereditary,” you tease. The crowd laughs.

“Okay, Y/L/N, you’re on!”

“Tom, you’re up first.”

Tom takes a card from the stack and reads it aloud. “Truth: What was the last thing you Googled?”

“Oh, jesus,” he sighs, taking out his phone. “Get your mind out of the gutter, everyone!”

You peer over his shoulder. “Wooooow. He really typed in ‘Y/N Y/L/N bikini pics.”

“Not true!” Tom flashes his iPhone to the audience. The camera zooms in, showing the television a menu for Nando’s. “Sorry mates, not that exciting. Your turn, Y/N.”

You take a card and grin when you read it in your head. “Dare: Pants the player of your choice.”

Without a warning, you unbutton Tom’s slacks and push them to his knees. Your attack left him surprised and a bit dizzy because he nearly falls over himself trying to get you to not succeed, but now his milky thighs are on display for the whole world and everyone in the room is hollering. His face is red, although he can’t stop laughing. He rubs his hand with his face. “She really thinks this is the Olympics.”

After a few rounds, the both of you are significantly tipsier after some raunchy questions and requests to eat some very weird food (you’re not a total pussy, you did try the pig’s feet and it wasn’t half bad). Tom’s pants are still around his ankles. It’s easy to notice how much he keeps staring at you, watching your mouth move or looking your way for approval when he answers a truth or does a dare.

It’s the final round and you take your card. “Dare: smooch the person immediately to your left.”

Jimmy knew exactly what he was doing with your standing positions, and hell, maybe your publicists told you and Tom to wait it out, but you love the attention. Your head’s spinning and there’s nothing more you want than to feed your body those endorphins. Tom raises his eyebrows when he hears the prompt and hands you a glass. You take it, raising it to your mouth as he pouts in exaggeration. In the last minute you put it down and kiss him square on the mouth — not too passionately, that was for later — and the audience is cheering like the two of you had just won the Superbowl. They may as well have given you a standing ovation. You pull away to see Tom’s shiny teeth set in what could be a permanent smile, sheepishly looking away as he pulls his pants back up.

“There you have it, folks, Tom Holland and Y/N and Y/L/N!” Jimmy marveled. “Keep a look out for Spiderman: No Way Home, out December 17th!”