#i am not trying to suggest they're really anything other than colleagues

[msfbgraves]

i swear that TIG lowkey likes terry and daniel together lmao. just from some of the things he’s said in interviews or when asked to share his thoughts…he may not know what silverrusso is but he definitely has some ideas about them. maybe even feels. and not just that, but TIG’s acting choices concerning daniel even from kk3 have been highly suspicious. it got more subtle in CK but at the same time more sensual and more powerful?? every single scene they have together is charged with this wild energy that is barely restrained. the air cackles with electricity and terry channels this into every second he has with danny boy. amazing. ridiculous. outrageous chemistry.

I read tkk3 as maniac decides to seduce young teenager as revenge for hurting his own flame, falls in love at first glimpse (forget sight! He's already intrigued by his happily dancing shadow), doubles down on the seduction since the boy is into it (God he's pretty), gets unexpectedly broken up with, beats him up twice (by proxy) because that is Not Allowed, admits defeat, goes on Massive Bender, becomes a Good Person because The Boy seems into that, truly tries to not be a maniac anymore, stops collecting young boys because I suppose his therapist conditioned him out of those behaviours with a shock collar, puts all his manic energies into Being Normal, you've never seen anyone be This Extra about Being Chill, and then he takes one look at those Baby Browns and all of that goes straight out of the window. It really feels like TIG went: "What would I be liked coked out of my mind?" But the thing is, and I say this with the deepest love and respect, I think that most people could not take enough coke to get to his baseline of energy. And yes he seems very happy to work with Ralph Macchio, but (and I know I'm not spouting a popular opinion here) Ralph seems a bit reserved? Intimidated? That's just the vibe I get. Yes, the energy is off the charts, and he calls Thomas the sweetest guy and an absolute pro but I detect some "Whoa! You're a lot, sir" 😅 there. Like, Ralph [in whatever he chooses to show us, which I know is a persona] normally makes men all bashful or helplessly aggressive because they're into him and They Shouldn't Be. And Ralph is always like "I'm just A Little Guy" while blowing the world kisses. But Thomas reacts to that [Again, who knows him really, it's all in interviews and he too is at work so it's a persona too] not with confusion but with "Hells yeah, get me some of that!" and it's the first time Ralph truly does not have the upper hand when playing the seduction card. That's how I see Silverusso in canon too. Daniel is very much into Terry but he's got such a forceful personality, Daniel is afraid he'll get swamped. And Terry can do a lot of things, but truly tone himself down is not one of them. And sure this could all be an act to play up their roles in a franchise in interviews, actors are known to do that. But that's how their dynamic reads to me.

And of course TIG knows what Silverusso is. They all know what LawRusso is, do we believe they haven't looked into other ships? He's been writing scripts for TV, of course he knows about fandom. He may have been asked not to read any for legal reasons but he clearly appreciates fandom going by his enthusiasm for fanart. Naw, man knows what's up.

[petrichor-idyllic]

HI could i request a minho x reader where they’re best friends and have a thing for eachother but they’re oblivious so everybody in the glade starts pulling shenanigans to get them together

I can sure try I guess.

Gender neutral reader because you didn't specify.

Guys pls start specifying lmao I am stressed.

HOW TO WINGMAN (POORLY)

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender Neutral! Builder! Reader x Minho. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas. Book based fic purely because no big 3D map.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, teenage shenanigans, oblivious reader/Minho, no one knows how to interact like normal humans, one awkward shower scene and mild suggestive content but nothing explicit.

You and Minho have been best friends since you popped up in the Glade.

Honestly, you're not really sure how it happened. You came up the month after Minho, so he was tasked with looking after you, and you just kind of stuck.

Minho is obviously the Keeper of the Runners, which means he's out in the Maze most of the the time, and you spend your days working as a Builder. But, you both still find time to enjoy each other's company after your long days.

It's definitely a close relationship, and anyone that knows Minho is often caught off guard to see the difference in him when he's around you. He's almost softer, definitely more smiley and easier to be around. His bitter and often slightly negative attitude is dulled in your presence. Of course, everyone likes Minho.

But everyone likes Minho a lot more when you're with him.

And that goes both ways. You're noth completely different people around each other; more approachable and easier to get along with.

It's obvious.

Of course it is.

Everyone in the Glade knows.

You guys like each other.

You have been harbouring a massive crush on Minho for pretty much as long as you can remember. And Minho isn't much better.

It's obvious, to everyone but you two.

Maybe you're both blinded by not wanting to mess up your friendship, or simply the pressure of living in a death maze is enough to give you both different priorities, but you're both blissfully unaware of your feelings for one another.

And it's starting to take the piss.

You have the other Gladers wanting to rip their hair out and just scream at you to go off somewhere and make out for a bit to let off some steam.

Obviously, they don't do that (probably because Alby would have their heads for distracting his best Runner).

But they want to. Man, do they want to.

So, instead, the remaining boys decide to come up with a plan after a particularly slow week in the Glade. They were going to do whatever it took to get the pair of you to finally realise you share the same feelings.

Which is easier said than done, especially when Minho is MIA most of the day.

But, with Ben slowly implementing hints towards Minho on their runs, and some of your Builder colleagues doing the same for you, the seeds were getting set in place.

Though, maybe your stubbornness/oblivion might be beyond help.

"Yanno, I really like them," Ben says as he runs with Minho, insisting on joining him for the past couple of days now, saying something about two sets of eyes are better than one.

"Who?" Minho grumbles, genuinely considering make a dead sprint to get away from Ben.

"(Y/N), duh," Minho slows down slightly, coming to the same pace as his friend.

"What?"

"I mean, they're really cool, funny, hot- how could I not? You're cool with that, right? I mean, I know they're your friend but I kinda wanna ask them out, that's okay, right?"

Minho hesitates, seemingly thinking for a second. Minho wouldn't ever do anything to possibly ruin your happiness, even if he does have feelings for you and he knows you can make your own choices.

"Yep."

And with that, he sprints away, leaving Ben to stand there in some form of shock.

Meanwhile you're dealing with Gally.

"You know, you really do keep that shank on a tight leash- Minho is actually tolerable when you're around."

"Uh, thanks, I think?" You chuckle to yourself.

"I mean.. you guys are only friends, right?"

You're in the middle of trying to fix a shack that got damaged during a dumb fight between two boys. You freeze.

"Yeah?"

"Hm, interesting."

"Why's that interesting?"

"Just you guys are pretty close, some people think you'd make a good couple."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, right." You say sarcastically, going back to your work and ending the conversation in one go.

Okay, so that isn't working.

The boys need to recuperate.

Okay, so, maybe they need to get the pair of you in situations you wouldn't normally be in, alone.

So, what could a group of dumb teenage boys possibly do with that?

"Yo, (Y/N)," you'd just finished your day of work when Newt approaches you.

"Hey, Newt, you good?"

"Yeah, can you go get Minho for me? I gotta talk to him but I gotta sort some klunk out first."

"Oh, uh, sure, where is he?"

"Oh, he'll probably just be getting out of the shower, he came back earlier so he should be finishing up."

"You want me to go into the shower block to get Minho?" You blink at him. "Couldn't you have spoken to him earlier?"

"I didn't get chance to catch him- Alby wanted to talk to me." Newt seems shifty and unsure of himself.

He originally wanted no part in this, but Frypan said he'd give him extra food for two weeks so here we are.

"But-"

"Just go get him, a'ight?" Newt walks away before you can say anything else. Now, he has to actually figure out what to talk to Minho about when he inevitably comes looking for him.

Frypan owes him more stew.

You grumble to yourself, going to find your friend. Since Minho came back earlier, he should be finishing up and probably about to leave. So, you think just direct him towards Newt. Easy fix.

Though you do feel a bit weird about it.

And when you rock up at the shower block with just the sound of running water filling the room, you inwardly cringe.

"Minho?" You ask, probably a little too quiet since he doesn't hear you over the water. Sucking in a deep breath, you walk further into the shower block.

It's not like you're fazed by this kind of thing. Boys walk around the Glade shirtless all the time and no one really care about skin being shown off. But this is Minho.

He's flawlessly attractive in your eyes, and he's actually a pretty modest guy. You normally leave him to his privacy, but if Newt wants to talk to him, it must be important.

"Minho?" You say, a bit louder, which gets a response.

"Yeah?" He asks as you stand awkwardly outside of the shower booth, a good few feet away from the curtain.

"Newt wants to talk to you."

"What?"

"Newt wants to talk to you," you repeat, your voice even louder. "He told me to get you."

To your surprise, Minho moves the curtain. He holds it in a way that hides anything inappropriate, but still reveals his chiseled, drippong torso.

Minho seemingly hasn't realised what this subtle and nothing act has done, but it leaves you almost silently standing there.

"What about?"

"He, uh, he d-didn't say," Minho groans as you pull your lips into a thin line. He pulls the shower curtain back, giving you a much needed second to recollect yourself. The water stops and there's some shuffling before he emerges again.

He's wearing pants now, at least, as he struggles to put his shirt on over his damp body.

"Can't get two shuckin' seconds of peace here," he grumbles before sighing. "You eaten, yet?" He asks you casually, still completely oblivious to your flustered state.

"Uh, no, I've only just finished myself."

He nods. "Alright, I'll catch you for dinner then, yeah?"

"Yeah, 'course."

Minho leaves to find Newt and you stand there for another few seconds before leaving with nothing having changed.

So, that didn't work either.

Though I don't know how they expected it to. Trust teenage boys to turn wingmanship into awkward situations.

Somehow, this keeps going.

Gladers start "accidentally" start bumping into either of you to get you to stumble into each other. Which does nothing. Or they'll make you scoot closer together when eating so you're squashed next to one another. Which also does nothing.

After what seems like forever of the boys acting really weird, you and Minho start actively avoiding them.

So, they come up with an actual plan- because far too many people are invested now and it's getting out of hand.

It's a simple plan, really.

But it did require a questionable request list being thrown into the box and your deep concern when people starting pulling boxes of candles out.

Night begins to fall over the Glade. People were winding down and they'd gone through to effort of separating you and Minho.

Somehow, you'd ended up in a long conversation with Frypan about his dream to make the perfect cheesecake one day. And Minho was getting lectured by Alby over being mean to Ben. Plausible, really.

Then, out of

"(Y/N)!" Winston startles you. "Minho needs you! He's in the Map Room! It's urgent!"

"What? Is he okay?"

"You gotta go! Quick!"

In a panicked frenzy, you run off to the Map room.

Unbeknownst to you, Ben has just done the exact same thing to Minho.

You burst into the Map Room, completely ignoring the fact you're not actually allowed to be in there. You're certainly no Runner since you're already out of breath.

"Minho! What's-?" Your words get stuck in your throat when you see the state of the Map Room and a very clearly lost Minho.

Candles are everywhere, and in the middle of the table, there is a big fancy meal- all of Frypan's best work.

You both stand there, staring at the scene in front of you.

Almost like something out of a comedy sketch, you turn to each other. "Did you do this?"

You then stand there, blinking at one another.

"It's like..." You trail off.

"A date." Minho finishes the sentence. "Who the everliving SHUCK thought it was a good idea to put fire in the Map Room?"

"They set us up on a date?" You mumble.

He chuckles. "Yeah, looks like it." You hesitate, a small smile starting to play on your lips. "Well," he clears his throat, "shall we?"

"What?" You snort, watching him as he walks over to the chair, pulling it out and giving you a fake bow. "Your seat, darling."

You roll your eyes, trying to suppress a smirk, but you do take your seat.

"No point letting all this good food going to waste, eh?" He walks to the seat across from you, sitting down himself. "I doubt Fry is gonna be making a meal like this again anytime soon."

"Yeah, I guess so. Explains why they've been acting so weird."

"Yeah, I just thought those shanks were finally losing their marbles."

"Nice to know they think we'd make a cute couple," you chuckle.

"'Cause we would make a cute couple," he says, a little too confident. "I mean- I don't know." He chuckles.

You freeze, picking at your plate for a second. But shuck it, you might as well ask. If you can ask anyone anything- it's Minho. "...Would you want to be a couple?"

He looks at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I would, actually. Just... not now. There's too much goin' on here, yanno? I mean, would you wanna be... together?"

You nod. Maybe deep down, you could tell that Minho likes you, maybe he could tell you like him. "Yeah, of course I would, but you're probably right."

"I think when we leave here," he continues, "we'd be a shuckin' good couple." He sighs, smiling to himself." But for now, we stay friends, I deal with this klunk and one day we'll be enjoying our freedom- together."

It's a tranquil image. Freedom feels so close but so far away, and being with you is just further motivation for Minho. But, if anything happened to him out there, he couldn't put that extra baggage on you if you were dating.

"Well, you better get us out quick then, huh?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah- well, let's enjoy our dumb date, shall we?"

"Guess this is our first date, then, huh?" You joke and he laughs.

"Yeah, guess it is."

I really didn't know what to do with this one, lads, ngl. It's more of a funny bit than a serious story and they don't even end up together- sorry.

I hope you kind of enjoyed tho lmao :)

[landothemuppet]

Smth with Tom and actress!reader where they're working on a movie together and everybody ships them and they secretly like each other, but he already has an overcontrolling girlfriend, so in an interview he tries to deny the rumors, but actually overdoes it and ends up offending reader? Your choice on how to end it, if angst to angstest or angst to fluff~

you’re a great actor, you know? || t.h x actress!reader (+18! smut!)

word count: 4.5k

pairing; tom holland x actress!reader

n/a:  omg i am so sorry it took me so long to write. I really didn't think this request was going to be more than 4K words long. I really hope you like it. I know you didn't ask for smut, but I was actually inspired for this one, so I hope you don't have a problem with this. I didn't proofread myself before posting so I apologize in advance if this contains any errors. I remind you that French is not my native langage.

warning(s) : smut (mutual distant masturbation) swear, angst, mention of alcohol.

taglist; @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @reawritesthings (thank you so much for you help and support!) @cedricdiggorysimpp @hogwartsmarvelmommy (thank you so much too for you help and support!) @allthisfortommy @delightfulmuffinclamauthor @kimberlyemerys @mcushvft @ecarlette99 if you want to be notified on all of my future writings, you can add yourself in my taglist here

Your eyes burned with desire as they scanned your co-star's torso, his suspenders still hanging from his shoulders to prevent his civil war period pants from falling. Who's making the carpentry with the shirt off? Tom's manly hands worked the wood, his biceps contracting with every movement he made, his callused fingers smoothed the surface of the furniture under construction. You swallow hard before biting your lip. His brown curls were falling over his eyes and you suddenly dreamed of running your hands through them or that his curls tickle your inner thighs while his tongue took care of your warm and wet spot, just for him. You remembered that your colleague told you that he had trained as a carpenter, all like part of the male members of his family, as a back-up solution if he didn’t become an actor. He had told you that he was happy that it could be of use to him now, but you didn't think it would be so hot to see him work. Your whole body was a furnace, heat radiating every inch of your skin. You raised your cup of coffee to your lips, trying to suppress a grimace at the coldness of the liquid.

"Cut!" you heard. "Y/N, you winced as you drank from your cup ..."

"Yeah, sorry, sorry. Would it be possible to heat the coffee or give me water instead?" you asked nicely.

One of the director's assistants reached out to grab your cup. Your eyes were lost in the direction of your co-star who was getting up from the top of the cabinet. Tom gave you a warm smile and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn't hard to play out the desire for his character when literally your whole body was reacting to his sight. Sometimes you could feel a connection with the British. The only major problem: Tom had a girlfriend. You weren't that kind of girl to get involved in an already established relationship. You liked your partner, found him attractive, you felt close to him but never revealed those feelings to him, because he was taken. It was not your place; the seat was taken. However, a little hope burned deep within you, the dream that he felt the same, an illusory utopia in which he would leave his current girlfriend for you. Tom's girlfriend was on set, visiting, and you could feel his frozen gaze on you. Your eyes locked with hers and you could see an authoritative, territorial glow. Tom was hers, not yours. Your eyes narrowed in an annoyed expression, your irises almost silently defying the woman standing in front of you. You would never attempt anything of course, but you didn't like to be stared at, you also hated possessiveness. Nothing about your behavior with Tom off the set could suggest any ambiguity. So, it turned out that Tom's girlfriend just didn't like you playing her boyfriend's love interest, on screen. But, hey, that was part of the job, right? This girl was dating Tom, she knew that her career required screen shares with actresses in a romantic plot, isn't it? The assistant director brought you your cup, warning you that this time it was only water. You nodded and your gaze fell on Tom again. His hairdresser was reworking his curls a bit to make them appear a little damper. A little pinch in your stomach reminded you that you wanted so badly to be in this woman's shoes.

"Is everything good on set?"

The director asked to everyone to get back in their place, you settled down correctly on your brand, leaning on the fictitious stoop and the boss then shouted "Action". The scene picked up a few moments from where it had left off earlier.

Your eyes scanned Tom, working with wood, and you drank your "coffee" - which was now water - dreamily. Your co-star glanced at you with a smirk that fell to the ground. He stopped in his movements, placing the hammer on his wood desk to turn fully towards you and approach.

"I will end up believin’ that you’re only callin’ me to look at me ma'am" he said in a somewhat gruff, country accent.

“You might be right, but if I am asked, I will deny everything altogether” You replied nicely. A smile almost as brazen as the Brit in front of you.

Tom grabbed your hip, slamming you against him. You half opened your lips by planting your feverish gaze in his eyes to reveal the desire that consumed between you.

"Ma’am, it’s not respectable from you, you’re an engaged woman"

Out of context, this scene looked like bad porn. The first time you read it you remembered laughing out loud, even more so the first time you repeated it with Tom, who had thought the same thing. It took both of you a lot of hours of preparation not to laugh today, during the shoot. But the film was beautiful, the context was even more beautiful, you were wearing that civil war pioneer costume.

"But I'm not married yet ... and my husband isn't giving me the attention I deserve"

Tom's leg was between your thighs and despite the petticoat and vintage underwear, the pressure was enough to make you really horny, without having to act for the camera. You let out a small moan as your co-star moved closer to you, delivering his cue before you jumped to his lips in a languid kiss. It was in the script but deep down you weren't sure if you were acting or not. Tom lifted you up while leaning against the wooden column on the porch, keeping your legs around him despite your petticoat. Your hands clung to his shoulders while taking care to drop his straps. With a hasty hand he pulled his pants down just below his butt. His lips were on your throat and your hands were running through his curls before you pushed him away.

"Not here. Someone could see us." you said, your voice a little rocky with horniness.

God you wanted this to be real. Your co-star grabbed you by the legs again in a rush, you let out a little cry of surprise before laughing, wrapped like a Koala around Tom who came through the doorway while kissing you again.

"And cut"

Suffice to say that it was not a good day to visit her boyfriend on a film set. Tom's girlfriend looked like a real dragon when you laid your eyes on her, still in Tom's arms, because he loved walking with you and laughing after the scene. His laughter filled the room as he let out another of his stupid jokes:

"Does my character get clamydia? Because by wearing this koala, I have doubts about my sexual health"

You burst out laughing before hopping on your own two feet, firmly on the ground, not without a little slip. The petticoat is really not suitable for the stunts. You dusted off your costume and your head turned to Tom's girlfriend again. You could almost believe smoke was coming out of her nostrils and if her eyes were daggers you would be dead by now. The film crew however found their joke very funny since a few seconds later, the entire set and its employees were laughing at Tom's nonsense, just like you had done a few seconds earlier. You slapped your fist on Tom's shoulder with an amused smile before tilting your head towards his molten girlfriend.

"You should join your girlfriend, Holland, instead of clowning."

Tom rolled his eyes before kissing your cheek and heading towards the thundering dragon, not forgetting to wink at you. Was he actually flirting with you in the presence of his girlfriend? You shook your head as you chased the idea, happy that the first part of that day of filming was over.

Everyone was going to sleep, well that's what he thought.

Comfortably seated on the sofa, t-shirt and boxers as the only casual outfit, sunk under a thin blanket, Tom was reading the script for tomorrow's scene. A scene he already knew and which had already warmed his cheeks at the first reading. But tomorrow he had to be ready. His eyes went through lines of text, little dialogue, a lot of action. And the more he read, the tighter his boxers got, he tried to stretch the fabric to make himself more comfortable but nothing helped. Tom had a fucking erection right in the middle of the living room reading his script. He heaved a sigh of desolation. He should have gone up to his room and made love to his girlfriend, reduced that tension between his legs ... but he didn't want to ... worse yet, he knew if he did, it wouldn't be her that he would think of. It had been a long day and the scene earlier had made him a little exhilarated. After all, the "bad porn" scene he and you were having fun portraying had the desired effect. And then his girlfriend flustered him. She wasn't wrong, the tension between you and him was there and he was attracted to you.

Tom put the script on the coffee table, glancing around him before repositioning himself on the sofa. His right hand to cross under the blanket and he came to feel his penis through his boxers, releasing a small sigh of comfort. His fingers began to weigh down his testicles as his thumb stroked up and down his cock through the fabric of his underwear. He tilted his head back on the armrest of the sofa, enjoying his own medicine, his lips and eyebrows pursed.

You stayed for the night. Despite the storm that was Tom's girlfriend, you had spent the evening in his rental house with several members of the team. Tom's girlfriend went to bed angry and soon enough and you stayed so late that Tom offered to take one of the extra bedrooms. You called it a night before your co-star, but now you were awake, uncomfortable with the room temperature. You needed some freshness and you got up slowly to go down to the kitchen. You only had reached the bottom of the stairs when you heard a noise, or rather, a sigh. Discreetly, you tilted your head and saw a figure lying on the sofa. A rustle of fabric caught your attention again, a soft moan accompanying it, making your body heat up more than it already was, but in a new sensation. Another moan was heard.

Tom was quite oblivious. His hand continued to stroke his hard cock through his boxers but he needed more. That's why he grabbed his dick straight into his underwear, making him sigh with glee once again. Images of this day of filming came back in his mind; how this period corset curved your boobs, so inviting ... How your breath was so erratic, the way he pressed his knee between your legs, wishing you weren't wearing this civil war costume. Tom leaned his head back on the armrest, letting his hand guide him into his own desire.

"So pretty for me, y/n"

You were still in shock at what you heard now, but an unseen force made you sit in front of the stairs as quietly as possible with your legs spread. It was incredibly sexy and the warmth you had felt before was nothing compared to that moment. Your hand slipped under the elastic of your improvised pajamas. It was bad, so bad. Someone could come down at any time and find you there, lying on the stairs, touching you as Tom did the same thing, without seeing you, a few feet away. Your fingers caressed your lace panties, putting pressure on your folds already swollen with desire. Tom's moans and his praise for your fictitious self, brought you into one of the hottest fantasies and you could imagine the British between your legs, your fingers replaced by his. You have inserted a finger in you, not without pressing your free hand against your mouth, pinching your nose to avoid moaning too loudly. But Tom was still unconscious, in his own high, as his hand picked up the pace on his hard red cock, about to unleash his intense pleasure just imagining you beneath him, moaning his name.

"Fuck, Y/N"

Your hips sank under your fingers at the hearing of your name coming out of her mouth again, you had just started your torture that you were already ready to losing ground. Your pace was rushed, strong and passionate but damn, you wanted this man, this man who had a girlfriend and yet moaned your name on the living room couch. You felt your toes twitch, your head thrown back against the staircase wall, your hand still pressed against your mouth to silence you. But the moan of your orgasm has escaped you.

For a moment, in his own orgasm, Tom thought he heard your muffled voice with lust, his cock contracting even more in his hand as his cum covered his hand. He threw his head back on the armrest again, closing his eyes to take a few seconds to recover from his orgasm. The guilt only invaded him a few minutes after the realization: He had just masturbated while thinking of you while his girlfriend was sleeping in a room above him; he was screwed.

You wiped your hand on your pajamas before holding on to the railing to gently get up. Without a word, you went up the stairs ... Never mind for that glass of water you wanted to take ...

The next day, Tom had asked his girlfriend not to appear on the set, out of respect for her ... Well, that was his biggest excuse ... he didn't want her to see how this sex scene disturbed him and how much he loved this idea of ​​him fucking you passionately in period costumes. You never talked about what happened, Tom never knew you were on the stairs the other night, he never knew your little secret ... The scene, well that choreographed, was so intense but so insincere at the same time. Sometimes you could hear when Tom wasn't playing but you also knew when one of his moans was real, even though you weren't actually having sex. Because it was nice to laugh about it but your film was not made in the framework of the porn industry.

Months had passed, the press tour had started last week. You weren't surprised to see Tom's girlfriend join in behind the scenes in a few interviews. She liked so much to analyze all the behaviors of her boyfriend to blame him later, initiating the argument. You could see that Tom wasn't happy but you were just the good friend. His makeup artist would go out of her way to try and hide the dark circles under his eyes and as your hairdresser added the finishing touches to your hairstyle, you smirked at Tom out of the corner of your lips.

"Tough night?"

"If only that was what you were thinking ..."

You wanted to yell at her "why don't you leave her?" but you held back. Your hand simply landed on your co-star's thigh in a reassuring gesture. But it did not escape the journalist's eyes. The man had worked with Tom before, so your co-star wasn't going into new territory. But without knowing why, you felt it really tense ... And you quickly discovered the reason for this tension.

"Y/N you're pretty new to the movie industry and for a big lead role you found yourself shooting some very intimate, nude scenes with your co-star. Tell us, how was that, being so intimate with Tom Holland? "

You let out an embarrassed chuckle, the question was meant to make you uncomfortable, and the fact that the reporter was talking to you like Tom wasn't in the room made you nervous. You sat back in your chair with a tight smile.

"I'm not sure. Whatever my answer would be, I could piss off his fans greatly."

"Oh, come on ... not even a small impression?"

"Let's just say he's not the most obnoxious person to play this kind of scene with or even watch in general."

The journalist's smirk reflected an "I feel you, girl" and a "I'm not done with this bullshit." He tilted his head, his eyes turning to Tom.

“That's a compliment to you Tom. And you, it was your first intimate scene in the movies for you too. And from the footage… it's scorching, you even seemed pretty comfortable with it. How did your girlfriend take it when she saw the first pictures? "

Tom tensed too, he bit the inside of his lips before looking at you and then at the reporter. He leaned down from his seat to take a sip of water and cracked his neck before letting out a laugh that sounded so wrong in your ear. It didn't amuse him, you knew that.

"Come on, man ... What can I say? Like a girlfriend watching her partner be intimate with another. But she knows it's cinema, it's our job."

There was a game between your co-star and the reporter, like a man-to-man, brother-to-brother bond. The advantage of having already worked together but above all, that Tom is so natural in his words. Yet this is what pushed the man further in his questions.

"Your on-screen chemistry is still intense. Those kinds of scenes should bring you closer, though."

"Of course, we get along well off the set y/n and I but yeah, you know ... it's still weird ... It's a bit like sleeping with the nice and shy neighbor that your mom has been trying to settle you with since you were a teenager ... It's nice but it's still weird and platonic. "

Your throat tightened at his words. The performance he had just made hit you in the stomach and you were hurt and angry at the same time. In your head you were screaming and your rage was telling you to retort that it was weird for him to say that when he had jerked off the night before your sex scene, whispering your name. But you knew it was better to say nothing at all, for your career and hers. You put on your best smile, hiding your hurt feelings, you just faked a laugh and looked at the reporter.

"Yeah, I was going to say he was like a brother, but the neighbor's shot is more original."

The interview ended with a few questions about the film to which you answered with the usual speeches already pre-written by the production team. At the end of the interview, you have to thank the reporter, your tongue pushing against your teeth, your smile twitching. Tom turned to you and sighed dramatically.

"Pfff, the hard part is over. Last interview of the day. Would you like to grab a bee..."

"Fuck off, Holland." you cut him off, releasing the tension you felt during the interview before leaving the room, your assistant on your back.

Your uber was already there and you almost jumped in to get back to your hotel. As soon as you got back, you undressed to put on a bathrobe and did what any girl would do in a cliché romantic movie: call room service to have champagne delivered to you. You told your assistant that you wanted to be alone and for once she listened to you, not without wondering if you were okay. She was a lovely woman, about your age, maybe a little younger, very concerned about your sanity and your interests. You assured her that you just wanted to have an evening of your own. And she left you alone.

The champagne drunkenness was the worst: it was delicious, you didn't feel the alcohol rising and you were quickly intoxicated. You were lying on your bed, your mouth full of chocolate - more cliché than you, you're dying! - the bottle of champagne completely empty. You leaned over the phone and called room service to ask for another bottle when there was a knock on the door. In your drunken state your eyes widened, surprise /

"Wow, that was quick" you said to the receptionist before hanging up.

You stumbled to the door. You were pathetic. Make you sick for a man, who wasn't even single. Speaking of the wolf - well rather the spider, in his case -. Tom stood there; his forehead creased by your appearance. You laughed at your previous thought - that of the spider -. Then you frowned, you didn't want to see him but he was still there.

"Can I come in or is the party private?" he asked in a half-amused, half-frustrated tone.

In a burst of contention, you opened the door and turned your back on him to your bed, which you sat on the end of, not caring whether Tom would come in or not. But he came in and he looked worried.

"Y/N, have you been drinking?"

"No, shit?! Good's on that, Sherlock" you said sarcastically.

Tom closed the door behind him before approaching you but you reached out to stop him. You shook your head negatively. No kindness, no kind Tom's best friend. You were fed up with this game.

"You are a great actor, you know?"

He wanted to speak, confused by your words but you stopped him in his tracks. It was your turn to speak, it was your moment. He had disturbed you in your drunken moment so he was going to listen. Why was he even there, after all?

"That sometimes you wonder what the line is between fact and fiction."

Your co-star wasn't sure where to look, he didn't understand why you were in this state and he really did care. Besides, you had been so cold after his interview, he had to understand. Did all of this have a connection?

You laughed alone, absorbed in your thoughts. You grabbed the champagne glass that barely had a left champagne in it - which is why you ordered another bottle in the first place - and then you kind of toast, pointing at Tom with your glass.

“You're an enigmatic character all on your own, Tom Holland" you said, by marking the intonation on his name. "You give sweet and funny, perfect boyfriend vibes, while giving off a fuck boy vibe that takes you against a wall bluntly. That's what makes you a good actor ... " you paused." "Just like now! A few months ago, you jerked off while blowing my name in your living room during the shooting ... and now ... you say about me that I am the nice little neighbor who 'we fuck for pity. "

You put your hands dramatically against your lips, hissing a little "oops" as Tom's eyes widened in surprise. How could she even know this intimate moment?

"Wh-what? How do you know that?" he asked with a shaking voice

You chuckled, drunk, the deceptively guilty expression. You could be such a bitch when you were drunk.

"It was supposed to be a secret."

You have swept your words with your hand, the champagne flute still between your fingers.

"You are playing with me, Holland. And I don't like it. What you said was hurtful!"

"I am not. Y/N, I am not play-"

"And you know what's funny, Tom? You know?" you cut him off, for the umpteenth time tonight.

"Uh no."

"No, of course not. Well, here's the funny thing: it's not respectable from you, mister. You have a girlfriend." You imitated his line from your movie with your own words and an attempt at a masked British accent in a South American accent wanting to sound like Tom and his character.

Tom really didn't know where to go. It was too much for him. He who had just come to get answers to your behavior now had some, but it was way beyond what he expected. You were drunk declaring your love to him while reproaching him for still being in a relationship, without taking his own feelings into account.

"And you know what's sad ... is that, damn ... I really thought you liked me."

"You're drunk, Y/N. We're not having this discussion."

You suddenly started to cry and Tom felt really helpless in the face of the scene in front of you. No lie, you looked pathetic.

Your co-star ended up approaching you and, in your vulnerability, you let him. Slowly, he took the glass of champagne and placed it on the entryway cabinet, then hugged you. You buried your nose against him, too drunk to care about your behavior. You were still mad at him, but the softness of his arms was so good, everything was heartwarming. Tom kissed you on the top of your head as he rocked you.

"I like you. I didn't know how to tell you." He spoke.

"What a romantic way to declare yourself." You joked, slightly laugh in his shirt.

“You said it,” he joked too, still hugging you.

"But you have a girlfriend."

"I was about to leave her. I didn't expect to receive a drunken outburst of love in the meantime, that's all."

You laughed again, lighter. The point of your feelings flew away, relieved to have confided your love, even in an advanced state of intoxication. Even more relieved to know that Tom shared your feelings. You frowned, however, as the words came back to you, your eyes plunged into hers in a confused pout.

"But ... earlier?."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to offend you… I just didn't know how to shut up this guy…"

You pursed your lips, your brows furrowed, still nodding your head to say that you understood - well, more or less -. Tom smiled you really looked adorable when you were drunk ... well, when you didn't look like an evil bitch ... he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then when he got to the level of your lips, he hesitated, before kissing the corner of them.

"I really like you ... really, really like you. But I'm not an asshole cheating on his girlfriend. Let's leave some time to digest tonight. Let me break up with my girlfriend before I can properly kiss you."

You simply hummed an answer, his scent had invaded your nostrils from the moment he hugged you, his words were soft as cotton, just like the tone of his voice and without wanting to offend him, you had started to fall asleep. The Briton let out a laugh before kissing you on the forehead and pulling you over to the bed to tuck you in. Tom brushed off a strand of your hair admiring your beauty. Even with the mascara that had run off, even with the messy hair and the boozy breath, you looked beautiful. Fearsome, but beautiful.

"Good night, Y/N".

He kissed your forehead again before leaving the room with a smile, knowing that his feelings for you were mutual.

That night, Tom left his girlfriend.

[habibialkaysani]

so look. I have been having another bad brain week. am thinking it would be good to get down some of why I’m feeling shitty. this will get long.

1) I just feel inexplicably sad all the time. so fucking sad. and I’m trying so hard to have energy to do shit, but it’s so difficult esp when out of nowhere I keep being on the verge of tears for no apparent reason??? and because of a combo of my meds, my hormones (bc my period is due soon) and my bpd flaring after a manic phase - I just feel really turbulent in my emotions. I go from up to down in ten seconds and I hate that. 

2) things have been super stressful with family. it looks like my little brother has a drug problem because he got arrested a week or so ago. he wasn't charged but I'm still super worried about him esp because he won't open up to me no matter how understanding I try to be with him.

3) then there's my nan, who is now out of hospital but who is also not given the best prognosis - I don't know the specifics but unless she has a liver transplant she doesn't have that long. which worries me. especially given how my uncles are just really shitty people who keep picking fights even while their probably dying mother is suffering.

4) speaking of. everyone is going to see my nan in my family and social distancing is not a thing for anyone right now. and family members keep getting huffy because we want to keep shielding speedy.

5) I got an email from work from a certain colleague who tbh I did not have the best relationship with saying that she was leaving, and that someone in another office was briefed on my furlough situation. but in the email it seemed to suggest that me returning to the office wasn't completely off the table which seemed strange, because when I was first told I was being furloughed it was with the understanding that I would eventually be made redundant. and idk. the thought of returning to that office... for some reason it fills me with dread. I've been having a lot of bad dreams about work and I hate that. I hate that I have to work and make a living because I don't want to. I hate being an adult.

6) I'm trying to do other stuff that I need to get done and I'm making progress with some writing things, but finding the energy to do that is so fucking hard.

7) I've been having so much trouble with my body image lately. like I've touched on this before but I've had a high bmi for a long time, and at one point it was 35, which is well into the obese category. but when I look in the mirror I - don't feel its as bad? like I know my mum's weight. it's a good five kilos less than me but her tummy looks bigger and physically she looks bigger than me. I say this not because I want to start any kind of competition or point scoring exercise - for certain my mother has been doing more walking than I have because I hate going to the park knowing that people aren't socially distancing or taking it seriously. I'm only mentioning it because I'm wondering about the limitations of bmi. at the same time maybe I just can't see what is on the scales. my bmi did go down a bit in recent months and was around 32 last time I checked, but I just. kinda like my mood, I keep bouncing between liking how I look when I see my reflection, to hating myself with a passion. and neither of those things are good for me.

8) generally I feel really tired all the time. even tho I haven't been doing much. like technically I am bc speedy needs homeschooling and that has been my job in the absence of an actual job. but I haven't been walking much. I haven't been moving around. and quite honestly I'm wondering what the point is of all this, because being in lockdown this long has not been fun. and given the uk is not exactly doing well in terms of coronavirus transmission and deaths I highly doubt they're going to go through with their plans to open up.

tl;dr I need to figure out my purpose in life because my brain is a mess. I don't think that means I'm going to be doing anything drastic so if you're reading this and are worried, don't be. I know I have it easier than some people esp because I'm still being paid, just not my full wage. I just feel really lost, and anytime I want to have a conversation about it I just - don't know who to talk to. this is deep shit and I don't want to land anything on anyone. its not fair that I keep having these mini breakdowns and for anyone to have to shoulder that burden for me. but hopefully just getting it down in words will help to get it out of my system.