#leonardo dicaprio fanfiction

[starzioo]

do yall ever scream at ur phone when u see ur fav bf or is it just me.

[tomhardystories]

Part 9

Jules sat at the counter in her kitchen, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar. Her phone lit up with an unfamiliar number. Normally, she wouldn’t have bothered answering (she had an ongoing rivalry with telemarketers), but she was feeling unusually curious. She hesitated, then answered with her mouth half-full.

“Hello?” she said, wiping at her lips with the back of her hand, already half-prepared to launch into a very specific rant about how she didn’t need life insurance.

“Hi, Jules? This is Leo DiCaprio.”

Jules blinked. She stared at the phone as if it had just sprouted legs and tap-danced across her kitchen.

“Sorry, who?” she said, her voice rising in that specific way reserved for both disbelief and spotting a spider.

“Leonardo DiCaprio” the voice repeated, smooth and velvety, like it had just stepped out of a luxury cologne commercial.

Jules paused, her brain scrambling to process. She had two options: either she was being pranked, or Leonardo DiCaprio had accidentally dialed the wrong number while trying to reach his assistant. 

“Right,” she said, her tone deliberately dry. “And I’m Julia Roberts. What can I do for you?” 

There was a low chuckle on the other end. “I promise, it’s really me. I got your number through, uh… let’s say mutual friend.”

Ah. Right. The memory of Tom’s warning flickered into her mind like a distant echo: “If he calls, just, uh, be careful.” Jules shook her head slightly. Yup, that’s him. 

“Alright” she said, crossing her arms, adopting the tone of someone who definitely didn’t believe a word of it. “Let’s say I believe you. Why are you calling me?”

“Well,” Leo began, his voice dripping with the kind of effortless charm that probably made roses bloom spontaneously wherever he walked “I’m in New York for a few more days before heading back to California. I thought it’d be nice to grab a coffee with you.”

Jules froze. Not because she was swooning, but because this was so absurd she half-expected Ashton Kutcher to pop out of a closet and yell, “You’ve been Punk’d!”

“Coffee,” she repeated, like she was tasting the word for the first time. “You, Leonardo DiCaprio, want to get coffee. With me. A person who, just this morning, spilled yogurt down her blouse in a meeting.”

“That’s right” Leo said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Okay” she said slowly, still suspicious. “Just to clarify, this isn’t some elaborate prank, right? You’re not about to ask me for my social security number, or if I’d like to buy a lifetime supply of essential oils?”

Leo laughed again. “I promise, no pranks. Just coffee. You seem like good company.”

Jules snorted before she could stop herself. “Good company? Oh, wow. Someone didn’t do their homework. I’m the kind of person who accidentally orders decaf and then spends the next hour wondering why I’m so tired.”

“I think I can handle that” he replied smoothly.

“Oh, can you?” she shot back, leaning into her usual brand of chaotic humor. “Because I also talk a lot, use way too much sugar, and have a habit of knocking things over. It’s basically a talent.”

“Well, now I’m even more intrigued” Leo said, and Jules could practically hear his grin through the phone.

“Fine,” she said, waving her hand in the air as if he could see it. “Let’s do coffee. But fair warning: if you’re expecting someone glamorous or mysterious, you’re gonna be very disappointed.”

“Noted” he replied, unfazed. “I’ll text you the details.”

Jules hung up and stared at her phone for a moment, then burst out laughing. 

“He wants coffee” she muttered to herself. “Sure. And next week I’ll probably get a call from Beyoncé asking me to babysit her twins.”

She shook her head, because, honestly, what else can you do when Leonardo DiCaprio just casually asks you out for coffee?

She didn’t consider herself the kind of person who had to share every detail of her life, but this? This was too good to keep to herself. She paced her living room, phone in hand. There was only one person who could fully appreciate the absurdity of this situation. She hit the speed dial for Miranda. She picked up on the third ring. “This better be good. I just paid $14 for a kale salad, and I’m already regretting it.”

“Oh, it’s good” Jules replied, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Guess who called me today?”

“Your dermatologist, finally letting you book that appointment you’ve been avoiding?” Miranda deadpanned.

“Leonardo DiCaprio.”

There was a long pause. Then Miranda burst out laughing. “Yes, Jules. Of course.”

“He just said he’s in New York for a few more days and thought I’d be, and I quote, good company.”

“Good company?” Miranda echoed. “Oh, sure. Because you weren’t already great company when you were hanging out with him and Tom and, what was it, Cillian Murphy at that bar?”

Jules waved her hand, even though Miranda couldn’t see it. “That doesn’t count. That was a group thing. This is… more personal.”

“Personal...” Miranda repeated, clearly savoring the word. “First Tom Hardy, now Leonardo DiCaprio. How many Hollywood favorites are planning to invite you out for coffee? Should I book an intervention before or after Jude Law calls?”

Jules snorted. “Well, here’s the real question: do I tell Tom about it?”

There was a pause. Jules could practically hear Miranda narrowing her eyes through the phone.

“No” Miranda said firmly.

“No?” Jules repeated. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why not?”

“Because” Miranda said, launching into what could only be described as a dramatic lawyer monologue “You said it yourself - Tom’s been overworked, stressed, and calling you at ungodly hours talking about yachts, puppies, and Malibu mansions. Do you really think this man, who can barely hold it together as it is, needs to hear about it?” 

Jules hesitated. “Okay, fair point.”

“And another thing,” Miranda continued, her voice rising “why is this even Tom’s business? With all due respect to his very charming neuroses, why should he care who you get coffee with? You’re not his life coach or his therapist - or his girlfriend, for that matter.”

“You’re not wrong” Jules admitted, sinking back into her couch.

“Of course I’m not wrong” Miranda said, sounding smug. “Let me tell you something: you are Jules. You’re smart, funny, and somehow magnetic enough to attract men who live on IMDB’s Top 100 Stars list. You don’t need to justify having coffee with Leo to anyone, least of all Tom.”

Jules grinned, feeling a warm rush of affection for Miranda’s relentless practicality. “Okay, okay, I won’t tell him. Happy?”

“Ecstatic” Miranda replied. “Now, go enjoy your coffee date with Hollywood’s golden boy. And for God’s sake, don’t spill sugar all over him.”

“Too late to make promises” Jules quipped, hanging up.

She set the phone down, already bracing herself for whatever chaos Leo’s coffee plans might bring. But Miranda was right.. what business did anyone else have in her life? She wasn’t moving to Malibu, spilling her secrets, or swooning over a movie star.

Probably.

Jules arrived at the café precisely three minutes early, a feat of punctuality that had her feeling smug - until she caught sight of her reflection in the café window. Her hair, which she’d spent a solid twenty minutes taming, now looked like she’d just dismounted a roller coaster.

“No big deal” she muttered to herself, fluffing it in the least subtle way possible as she pushed through the door.

Leo DiCaprio was already there, sitting at a corner table with sunglasses on and a baseball cap pulled low. He looked casual, effortless - basically the polar opposite of how Jules felt in her carefully chosen "relaxed yet sophisticated" outfit that now seemed to scream trying too hard.

“Jules” he said, standing up as she approached. “Good to see you.”

“You too” she replied, shaking his hand before realizing she was holding her bag in the same hand. The result was an awkward juggle that ended with her bag smacking the table, nearly toppling the salt shaker.

Leo’s lips twitched, but he said nothing. Gentleman, clearly.

The waiter came over, and Jules was determined to play it cool. “I’ll have a flat white” she said with the air of someone who definitely knew what a flat white was and had not, in fact, googled it.

Leo ordered a black coffee, because of course he did.

As the coffee arrived, the conversation began to flow. Jules was determined to keep things casual, which meant saying absolutely the first thing that popped into her head.

“So, you wear sunglasses indoors. That’s… bold.”

Leo smiled, adjusting them slightly. “Hazard of the job, I guess. Keeps people from staring.”

“Does it, though?” Jules teased, raising an eyebrow. “Because I feel like it might just make you more noticeable.”

He laughed, and she felt herself relax.

They talked about travel (he loved Italy, she once got stuck in a revolving door in Paris), work (he told a funny story about filming a scene with a baby goat, she countered with the time she accidentally emailed a meme of a screaming cat to her client), and the absurdity of New York traffic.

“I once got stuck in a cab for so long” she said “that I considered getting out and just living on the sidewalk.”

Leo laughed again, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you guys do it here.”

“Pure spite” Jules replied. “It’s the New York way.”

Just as Jules was starting to think she might survive this meeting without embarrassing herself further, Leo leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting.

“Jules..” he began “I want to ask you something.”

Her stomach flipped. Oh God, was there spinach in her teeth?

“I think you’re amazing” he said, catching her completely off guard. “You’re funny, smart, and I don’t meet people like you often. So, I just have to ask... are you and Tom… together?”

For a moment, Jules just stared at him. And then, without warning, she burst into laughter. Not a polite chuckle. Not a soft, feminine giggle. But a full-on, uncontrollable cackle that echoed through the cafe. Heads turned. The barista paused mid-latte art.

“W-what?” she managed to wheeze between gasps for air. “No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Definitely NOT. A million times no!!”

Leo raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“God, sorry” Jules said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “It’s just - me and Tom? That’s hilarious. No, absolutely not.”

“Good to know” Leo said smoothly. “Because I was hoping you’d let me show you Malibu.”

Jules froze, her brain grinding to a halt. “Malibu?”

“Yeah” he said, leaning back casually. “Take a week off. Come to California. We’ll hang out, explore, get some sun, maybe spend some time on the yacht. I think you’d love it.”

The words yacht and California had barely registered in her mind when a flashback hit her like a freight train.

Tom’s voice, panicked and slightly too high-pitched: “Promise me you’ll never move to Malibu. Or anywhere tropical where you’ll forget me!”

She stared at Leo, unsure whether to laugh or cry. This was it. This was literally the exact nightmare Tom had rambled about during his 3 am phone call.

“Oh my God” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, concerned.

Jules waved her hand dismissively, her mind racing. Should she tell him? Could she explain the sheer absurdity of Tom calling her in the middle of the night to rant about hypothetical yachts? No. No, she could not.

“Nothing” she said quickly. “It’s just… I’m flattered. Really. But I’m not looking for anything right now.”

Leo nodded, his expression completely understanding. “I get it. No pressure. I just wanted to ask.”

“Thank you..” she said, relaxing slightly. “And for the record, I think we’d make excellent friends. You’re very… cool.”

Leo smiled. “Friends it is. I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too,” she said, genuinely meaning it.

The rest of the meeting went without incident, the two of them chatting like old friends. By the time they said goodbye, Jules felt oddly proud of herself. Sure, she’d laughed so hard the entire café stared at her, but she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself. Mostly.

As she stepped out into the crisp New York air, she couldn’t help but laugh. Malibu? Yachts? Tom would lose his mind if he ever found out.

And then it hit her: Tom. Sweet, neurotic Tom, who had practically sworn her to a blood pact never to set foot in Malibu because of his bizarre nightmares. She grinned like the Cheshire Cat. 

Oh, this was going to be fun.

She dialed his number, and Tom picked up almost immediately.

“Tom” she began, calm and measured, like she was reading him a eulogy. “Remember that midnight phone call? You, ranting about the inherent evil of Malibu and how I was never, under any circumstances, to set foot there?”

A wary pause. “…yes?”

“Well” she said, dragging out the word like she was savoring it, “Funny story. I just had coffee with Leo. And he invited me to Malibu. We’re flying out tomorrow morning.”

The silence on the line stretched so long she thought he’d fainted. 

“…what.” Tom’s voice finally came through, high-pitched and slightly strangled.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to show me the sights. You know, the beach, the yacht, maybe even some dolphins. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tom inhaled sharply. “No. No, no, no, no, no. Jules, listen to me. You can’t go. Malibu changes people. You’ll start drinking green juice out of a mason jar and calling it a detox elixir. You’ll buy a caftan. A CAFTAN, Jules. Do you even know what a caftan is?!”

“I feel like you’ve got a lot of feelings about caftans” she observed, biting back laughter.

“You don’t understand" he continued, spiraling faster than a toilet flush. “You’re not even packed! Do you have Malibu clothes? Do you own linen?!”

“I have linen napkins.”

“Not the same thing, Jules! They’ll know. Malibu people can smell fear and polyester blends!”

At that, she completely lost it, doubling over as a laugh tore out of her. “Tom! Oh my God, stop. I’m dying.”

“No!” he said, dead serious. “You’re going to get on that yacht, and they’re going to feed you champagne and caviar until you forget who you are. I’m telling you, Jules, you’ll become one of them.”

“One of who, exactly?”

“California people!” His voice cracked on the last syllable. “The kind who text you, ‘Sorry, babe, I can’t make it, I’m on my third cleanse of the month.”

“Wow...” she said, grinning. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“I’ve SEEN THINGS, Jules!” Tom practically yelled. “People don’t come back from Malibu the same. Or worse, they don’t come back at all. They just vanish into infinity pools and Instagram stories.”

“Uh-huh” Jules said, deadpan. “And you know what, Tom? I think you might be psychic. I mean, how else could you have known this would happen?”

“Jules” Tom said, his tone urgent. “Listen to me. If you go to Malibu, it’s over. That’s where people disappear. They stop answering texts. They start… wearing sunglasses indoors! You’ll come back and tell me I should do yoga on the beach at sunrise. Jules, I can’t lose you to that lifestyle!”

“Wow” she said, trying her hardest to sound serious. “You’re really spiraling here.”

“Of course I’m spiraling!” Tom snapped. 

At that, Jules finally lost it. She burst out laughing, so loudly that a passing dog walker gave her a curious look. “Tom, oh my God, relax. I’m not going to Malibu.”

There was another pause. “…what?”

“I’m not going” she repeated, wiping a tear from her eye. “I turned him down. I just wanted to mess with you.”

“You...” His breath caught audibly. “You evil, soulless troll. I hate you.”

“It was worth it” she said, her grin practically audible. “Admit it” she said “you were picturing me on a yacht, weren’t you? All tan and glamorous, sipping champagne and tossing my phone into the Pacific?”

“I’m hanging up now. You’re a monster” he muttered.

“And you’re the best” she said, still grinning. “Never change.”

“I’m putting a tracking app on your phone” he grumbled.

“Bye, Tom” she said sweetly. “Don’t have nightmares about designer caftans, okay?”

As she hung up, Jules leaned against the nearest lamppost, laughing to herself.

 

Tom was still nursing his post-Jules call anxiety when his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen, groaned, and answered.

“Leo, what do you want? Whatever it is, the answer is no.” 

“Hey, man” Leo’s smooth voice came through, cheerful and unbothered. “Just thought I’d call. So… about Jules.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh no. No, no, no. Don’t even start. I’m already regretting giving you her number.”

Leo chuckled on the other end. “Relax, bro. I just wanted to tell you how it went.”

“Oh, great” Tom muttered. “Did she roast you alive, or are you calling from the ashes of your self-esteem?”

“She’s… amazing” Leo said, clearly trying to find the right words.

Tom barked a laugh. “Oh, she’s amazing, all right. Let me guess, she gave you the Jules Special: one compliment wrapped in three layers of insults, just to keep you humble.”

“Actually....” Leo began, but Tom cut him off.

“No, no, don’t tell me. Let me do the honors” Tom said, sitting up. “First, she showed up ten minutes late, claiming ‘fashionably’ but really because she forgot what time she said. Then, she immediately made fun of whatever you were wearing. Something like, "Oh, nice shirt. Did they run out of the expensive ones?”

There was a long pause.

“…okay, that last part is accurate” Leo admitted.

“Of course it is” Tom said, triumphant. “I know Jules, and let me tell you, she is not girlfriend material. She’s, like, chaos incarnate. She’ll drink all your coffee, borrow your hoodie, and then insult you while wearing it.”

Leo chuckled. “You make her sound horrible.”

“She’s not horrible,” Tom corrected. “She’s Jules. Which means she’s impossible, infuriating, and more stubborn than a mule wearing noise-canceling headphones. I’ve seen her make a personal trainer cry.”

“Okay, but that’s kind of admirable,” Leo said.

“No, it’s concerning!” Tom exclaimed. “She’s the human version of a hurricane. Except hurricanes eventually pass, and Jules? Jules lingers. You’ll be lying in bed at night, and suddenly, you’ll remember something she said three weeks ago and start questioning your life choices.”

“You’re really selling her” Leo said, amused.

“I’m not trying to sell her!” Tom snapped. “I’m trying to save you. You don’t need that kind of chaos in your Malibu bubble. Stick to your yoga girls and organic juice queens. Jules is, like, an espresso martini with a splash of existential dread. Don’t come crying to me when she turns your Malibu mansion into her personal comedy club.”

“Sounds intriguing” Leo said.

Tom groaned. “Of course you think that. Look, just promise me you won’t fall for her, okay? I can’t handle the fallout when you realize she’s allergic to feelings.” 

Leo hesitated. “Actually… we decided to just be friends.”

Tom froze. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah..” Leo said casually. “She turned me down. Said I wasn’t her type, but she’d be happy to grab a drink sometime - strictly platonically.”

Tom stared at the wall in disbelief. “She friend-zoned you?”

“Now there's two of us..” Leo said, sounding oddly cheerful.

“Wow.” Tom let out a low whistle. “You’re Leonardo DiCaprio. The Titanic guy. And she said no?”

Leo laughed. “Yep. First time for everything.”

“Unbelievable” Tom muttered, shaking his head. “She’s truly unmatched.”

“Hey, I kind of respect it” Leo said. “Besides, I think we could be great friends. She’s hilarious.”

“You know, talking about Jules earlier... I might have gone a bit overboard. I wasn’t being serious. She’s not that bad.” 

“Well,” Leo said lightly, “thanks for introducing us. I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Tom groaned again. “Great. Fantastic. Now, can both of you please leave me alone? I’m not your therapist, your mediator, or your relationship counselor.”

“You kind of are” Leo teased.

“Just do me a favor and both of you stay out of my life for a week. I’m emotionally spent.” Tom shot back. 

“Sure thing, buddy” Leo said lightly. “Talk soon.”

Tom was sprawled out on the couch, fully immersed in his righteous annoyance, when his phone buzzed again. He groaned, snatched it up, and saw the name on the screen.

“Oh, for the love of... Cillian, if you’re calling to ask Jules out, I swear to God, I’m blocking your number! I’m quitting society and joining a cult!” Tom yelled as soon as he answered.

There was a beat of silence on the other end before Cillian’s calm, slightly confused voice came through.

“Uh… what?”

Tom sat up, his rant not losing any steam. “Don’t play coy with me, Murphy. Are you planning some romantic dinner? A walk on the beach? Or maybe you’re thinking of luring her to some broody, dimly-lit jazz club where you can stare at each other in tortured silence?”

Cillian cleared his throat. “Tom, I’m… not calling about Jules.”

Tom froze, his anger deflating slightly. “…you’re not?”

“No?” Cillian said firmly, though his tone now carried a hint of amusement. “I was actually calling to ask if you wanted to join the charity game this weekend. But clearly, you’ve got some... other things going on.”

“Oh” Tom said, blinking. “Right. Of course. Charity game. Makes sense.” Tom replied and hung up, staring at his phone in disbelief. “Unbelievable, he muttered. “I’m the one who needs therapy.”

[pleasantglitterflower]

My in-laws' daughter (Joe Burrow x OC)

Many things are difficult to tell your family, making certain decisions is a challenge and you can go from mature to embarrassed very quickly.

Exactly for this reason, Juliana, in her 22 years of life, has always tried to be as careful as possible when it came to revealing something to her parents, whether it was from wanting to cut her hair to her shoulders, making her mother purse her lips, to finding out that she threw away three years of college, because that course was definitely not what she wanted for her future anymore, but rather hair, everything that had hair

But this time it's different, the event she feared the most has arrived, that of introducing her boyfriend to her parents, with a big catch.

-Have you been together for six months?- The woman is surprised, letting her tone of voice overflow in the restaurant, quickly trying to contain herself.

-You didn't have to hide anything from us, you just had to say that you're together, what's the problem anyway?- Her father shrugs.

-Leo, you know it's not like that- Her mother said.

-Let the girl enjoy herself- She said again.

-Yes, of course, I just want to say that we need to make sure that he's a good person, a nice guy who treats her well, there's no problem with that-

-That's exactly why I called you here- She smiled a little embarrassed.

-What do you mean, he's here?- Her mother discreetly looked for any guy lurking around.

-No, I called you to let you know that I want to schedule a dinner with everyone and introduce him- She revealed, earning a big smile from her mother.

-That's incredible, I can't believe it, we need to plan everything and when are you going to introduce him to your father's side?- Gisele already commented, suggesting as if it were going to be a separate event.

-The thing is, I'm just going to schedule one dinner and then we'll all go, that way we'll save time- She explained.

-Oh dear, your father has a lot to do, he has a lot of work and girlfriends and you know, I have a lot of meetings, advertising, trips and the routine with your brothers - She changes the subject, hating the idea of ​​having dinner with him.

-Don't forget Tomtom - She cuts her off with a half smile, knowing that now her mother will be annoyed.

-What Tom? - She looks at her, holding the glass in her hand.

-My ex-stepfather - Juliana and Leo's smiles contrast sharply with Gisele's shock.

-Of course, daughter, no problem, but what's his name? Show me at least a picture - She changes the subject trying to be as attentive as possible.

-But you know him - Ju finished her salad, now getting really nervous, feeling her stomach churn.

-We know him? - Leo looks a little confused, changing his eyes between the two.

- It's Joe Burrow - He revealed.

The two looked at each other in disbelief.

But telling Tomtom would be even stranger.

He took advantage of the best moment to talk to him, when he was playing golf.

-Boyfriend? - He asked intrigued, watching her swing.

-Yeah-

-You're not old enough for that kind of thing - He implied, making her laugh.

-So I'm going to lose my golf buddy on Saturdays? - He lamented, watching the girl sitting on a stool.

-Never- She smiled at him, who smiled back, relieved.

-But show me a picture of him, who are we talking about? - He finally asked, going to the girl in the hope of seeing the picture.

-Do you know him? - He shrugged his shoulders.

- Where do I know him from? - Tom couldn't hide the fact that he found it strange.

- It's Joe Burrow - He gave a half smile to his ex-stepfather, who stamped his foot and ran his hand through his hair.

- That damn guy -

Tom started to remember some things and it was inevitable to ask.

- How did you meet? -

- It was thanks to his barber -

He wouldn't need a single word more than that, and Juliana remembers that day well, when she was spending time at her friend's house, whom she met thanks to her stepfather. Steve didn't have any clients that day, but an emergency came up.

-We need to fix this, the team scheduled a surprise online interview and I had to interrupt my vacation to pretend to be focused on the next season and suddenly, I need to appear on TV and not even my cap can save me anymore- Joe chattered until he got stuck in the doorway, when he saw another person he didn't expect that.

-This is Juliana..- He cut her off.

-It's really hard not to know who she is with this family- He observed her with some curiosity.

-Believe me, if it were up to me it wouldn't be like this- She commented with her discomfort with the subject, she hated all exposure.

-Well, let's get to the haircut then- Steven called Joe again, trying to break the awkward atmosphere in the place.

It wasn't hard not to fall in love with her, in terms of beauty it was undeniable, but she was more than that, she knows and likes golf, his favorite pastime, she started getting haircuts and various hair cream mixtures for free, they were able to talk about everything.

But the silence was always better, when they just looked at each other and realized that they were really by each other's side and enjoying it, the ease she has with the countryside, which surprised him a lot, maybe the hustle and bustle of her parents' lives made her fall in love with the silence and calm of sitting on a deck and just drinking tea.

Even so, one thing in particular impressed him in a bad way and in a good way.

She doesn't understand anything about American football, how was that possible when she lived her whole life with their biggest star? He doesn't know, but it was a fact.

Since that moment, the contact between them became natural, Juliana could no longer stand having to hide how in love she was, even avoiding having her life exposed like her parents, even though he is a player and it was impossible, they were trying their best, before it became a scandal they needed at least her parents to know, since she spent several weekends with his parents and playing with his nephews.

Gisele and Tom have found a way to talk about the subject, without anyone suspecting anything.

-How did she meet him?- Gisele whispers as if it were a big secret.

-She assured me that she didn't go to any of my games and that at that time, she had no interest in him- Tom assures.

-That's good, otherwise it would be really weird- The woman sighs thoughtfully.

-That's what I thought-

-Tell me a little about this guy- She asked, earning a confused look from him.

-Tell me a little about him, I don't know him, we just played against each other sometimes, it's not enough to know him- She shrugged her shoulders.

-Of course it's possible, he must have been mumbling something on the bench?-

-The benches are very far apart and when he was on the bench, I was on the field- Tom explains.

-But during the game, didn't he swear, say anything strange, have any strange habits? - His wife's concern and anxiety are starting to worry him equally.

-Look, not that I remember, he was quiet, not everyone makes a fuss or swears

-And scandals in the media, no, or rather scandals in the locker room, have you ever played with someone who played with him and knew something dirty?

-We both know how it is to deal with that, I don't think it's cool to keep commenting and no, I don't know of any scandals, or dirty things involving him, no player with any gossip, they just said he was polite and a good leader - Tom shrugged his shoulders and Gisele finally had no more questions.

At the hotel, unlike them, Juliana and Joe are simply in different sync.

-We already have couple pajamas, we're wearing our couple shirts, finishing our couple mugs, you know we're missing a couple plate, right - Joe reminds her charmingly, brushing his mug.

-We need paintings too, one for your house, the other for mine-

-What other stupid couple thing should we do?- He leaves his paintbrush under the table, thoughtful, while Juliana takes the opportunity to kiss his cheek. Joe, who was a little surprised, was surprised again by a paintbrush stroke on his face before he could react.

Before he could retaliate, the person in charge of the place arrived, finding the paintbrush stroke on his face strange.

-Joe, you're so clumsy- She grumbles, earning him an intrigued look.

The other woman laughed softly at Josh, gathering some materials on the table.Until finally, the day of dinner arrived.

-I think I can stay calmer for a game than for this- Joe comments still in the car, since they both need to gather the courage to go to the house.

-I'm also pretty nervous- She half-smiled without looking at him.

-Relax, you don't have to meet Gisele Bündchen and Leonardo DiCaprio as in-laws and also see Tom Brady not playing against you, but actually being your girlfriend's ex-stepfather. - He joked, moving his arms restlessly, while she knew exactly what he meant.

-It's an awkward situation, I never thought I'd be in this situation. Promise me we'll eat and leave? - He almost begged.

-Sure, but since you're the first one I'm taking home, I don't think any of them will know how to deal with it. It's horrible being the firstborn. - She lamented, but Joe turned abruptly to face her.

-What do you mean the first one?

-Yeah, I've never introduced anyone to my parents- She sighed.

-Why?- He watched her without answering.

-I've never met anyone I took seriously or that I thought I should do that- She finally looked at him, who couldn't hold back his smile.

-I was even embarrassed- He laughed all silly.

Juliana approached Joe, until she realized something that made her not know how to react, is it better to laugh or cry? She wondered.

-I think my mother and my ex-stepfather were watching us through the curtain- She commented looking towards the window, where the cloth still sways.

-Why do you think that?- Joe laughed, believing it was mainly paranoia.

-Because I saw them both run as soon as I looked at the window and someone pulled the curtain that was swinging- She said, making Joe a little more nervous.

-We better go then- He sighed, observing the house, for a moment wondering what he was getting himself into.

Walking next to a guy towards your mother's house is very strange, especially while holding his hand and feeling your stomach churn and your face burn.

It could all go well, just as it could all go wrong, like she forgot to tell him that Joe was allergic to something or someone made a bad joke.

There are many possibilities.

She put her hand close to the door but to her surprise, it opened before she could even knock.

-Sorry for the delay, I was at the back of the house- Gisele gave her best smile.

-We noticed- Juliana couldn't contain herself.

-Oh my God, you're here, what a surprise- Tom commented, almost lying down in the armchair to see the two of them at the entrance, for some reason refusing to get up from the armchair, making Juliana look at her mother as if asking what was going on.

The two of them just went inside the house, Gisele greeted Joe with a handshake, Leo did the same and Tom just waved without getting up from the armchair.

-We're looking for something on TV, do you like watching football?- Tom asked, earning some confused looks.

-Yeah, you could say I like it, but at this time of year it doesn't go away- Joe reminded him, only then did Tom realize what he had just said.

-Don't be silly, soccer is always on on Sundays- Gisele changes the channel and Joe swallows with all his might the urge to say it was Soccer, since luckily Juliana warned him.

And Gisele knows exactly what she's doing, since she patted Joe on the shoulder twice as she passed by.

-Daughter, I didn't know your type was Marlon Brando- She mumbled, but Joe, since he didn't know him, looked back wondering what that meant.

-He's a hunk Joe, you don't need to worry- she smiled nervously.

-Yes, he is a hunk- Gisele smiled equally trying to hide it.

-Without a shadow of a doubt a hunk- Tom finishes, leaving Joe alone instead of calm, suspicious of that.

The exchange of glances between the rooms was strange, even more so for Leo who was paying more attention talking to a woman on the phone than to them.

-Shall we eat? Each of us made a dish and I think mine is wonderful and will be the highlight of the evening- her mother stuck her nose up in a smug tone, starting a debate with Tom.

-Mine is not better by any means, you know I'm a meat expert- he defended himself.

Leo preferred not to go in, since he had only bought something ready-made and didn't want to be embarrassed by saying so.

Juliana let everyone leave the room, Joe in particular being accompanied by his mother, while Tom remained seated.

-Let's eat- She pointed in the direction everyone was going, receiving an embarrassed smile from him, who stood up all awkwardly, covering the seat with a cushion.

They kept an eye on each other and walked around the armchair, until she was quicker and pulled the cushion away, revealing a pair of binoculars.

-You two are more professional than many paparazzi- she joked, hiding the binoculars in the armchair again.

-I don't know what you're talking about- He shrugged.

-I saw you at the window- She revealed, making his eyes widen.

-Us? You must be excited about the situation and looking for problems in our excellent creative management, how could we be stalking Joe everywhere we can and calling journalists, looking for information? Juliana, these are serious accusations, we trust you in your vast love experiences, your heart, your rationality and your good taste in men, we would never make that mistake of toxic and slightly jealous parents, a child is raised for the world- He says in a serious tone, but clearly joking with her, calling her for a hug.

She can't deny it.

-Come on, before they notice us missing and start thinking I'm trying to get you to turn against him or scold you in some way- He put his arm around her neck and they continued walking to the dining room.

The table was set with great care by Gisele, who made sure to lead Joe to a chair next to hers.

-You can eat as much as you want, there's no need to be shy or think about dieting, I want you to feel at home- She told the boy who gave a shy smile.

-There's no poison in anything, don't worry- Gisele joked, placing a glass in front of the boy, who looked at his girlfriend worriedly.

And in fact, she didn't stop following Tomtom.

-Now everything is explained- He pursed his lips when he saw Juliana and Joe arrive at the course, she with a caddie on her back.

Although Tom didn't like it at first, he saw that it would be very good when Joe's first shot was played.

-Now you'll have to put up with me for the rest of your Saturday, until our dinner at a burger joint of dubious origin- Tom joked with a smile.

-Why dubious origin?- Joe adjusted the ball on the tee to take the next shot.

-Because we never go back to the same ones and that brings some pretty bad consequences

[murasakinocatt]

The types of men that mom likes:

The types of men your daughter likes:

[lulu2992]

Ask meme!

I was tagged by @simplegenius042 for the Last Line tag. Thanks!

So I’ve never posted fanfiction... but the truth is I’ve written a few things these past 5 years. I want to share them one day, most likely on another account, but I’m still gathering the courage to do that. At least, since they were all in French (because I realized it was way easier to write this kind of stuff in my native language), I did finally translate several of them earlier this year, so it’s a first step :)

Anyway, here are the last sentences of a oneshot I wrote about a certain lawyer having a rough yet not-that-unusual evening in Atlanta:

One day, maybe he would not need any of that anymore. One day, maybe he would get better. One day, maybe he could become John Seed again. Be himself. Be happy. But tonight, once again and as always, he would just patch up his cracks and keep pretending.

[countrymusiclover]

[cloud3francois]

Inception Theory about totems

[sleepanonymous]

You're so right Nala 🖤

Also, if you Eepy Babes haven't read this fanfiction on ao3 that ships Vessel and II maybe you should 👀

shipping win! they have different but equally terrible coping mechanisms

[thegeorgiatennantblog]

*Clanking pots and pans together *

I have a message for all the tin hatters and misogynists in the Tumblr fandom.

28th August, The Year of Our Nerd 2024

To Whom It May Concern

It has been precisely one year and one month to the fact that I first came across this malady that has been plaguing our fandom. Other fandoms have been more or less unfortunate in this regard. What started as a lighthearted joke has now turned into a toxic, vile, festering wound. For a long time I either ignored these blogs and their opinions or very politely tried to dismiss them. For an even longer time I was made to feel that I was in the wrong. After all we live in a free society and all of us believe int he idea of freedom of speech, freedom to hold whatever views and beliefs, and freedom to express those views and beliefs. But the very same citizens of these free society's in today's world are also facing a dilemma: how far does this right go? Is it unconditional? Is it absolute? Or does it qualify to some form of check or some form of necessary derogation under exceptional circumstances? When do those circumstances arise?

Most of us have come to an understanding in regard to the question, though all of us may not agree to it: it is understood that where your right to exercise your freedom offends and restricts my right to do or causes in any way for me or anyone else to feel endangered, then that is where we draw the line.

Reading @do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas 's post today I have come to the conclusion that the time has come to draw that line. It is a question on where we stand as a fandom if we let such bigotry and such hate prevail any longer.

I want to let everyone know where I stand. I have nothing against fanfiction. I have nothing against RPF. People have been creating RPF since time immemorial. If not for RPF a large amount of literature, film, music and other forms of art would not exist. Shakespear's Histories are essentially RPF, Hamilton is RPF, Netflix's The Crown is RPF, Le Morte d'Arthur is RPF, Baz Luhrman's Elvis is RPF and so is Andrew Dominic's Blonde. You may like some of it, you might dislike some of it. You might even be vehemently against some of it. But that's all it is at the end of the day; fiction. It doesn't hurt anyone. The real problem arises when people start becoming unbale to differentiate between fiction and reality. And that's no better than thinking that just cz someone played a serial killer in a movie means they're evil irl too.

It becomes suffocating for others to exist in these spaces when the delusion that the RFP is real transcends to take an even worse shape namely hating the real people involved in said person's life. How could you justify hating on their real life partners just so you can satisfy your delusional belief that these men are actually in love with each other.

Maybe it springs from a need to justify our lives in terms of conspiracy theories in this growing pandemic of untruths and fake news. Maybe it springs from some deep rooted internalized misogyny. Who can say?

Before I move on I want to highlight some problems with the wntire tinhatter discourse.

The existence of a PR. I want to clarify this here and now. PR works for important, famous, insanely rich people whose global fame makes their identity a part of the public domain so much that their entire image needs to be curated to meet certain requirements. PR works for Taylor Swift and Leonardo DiCaprio and Barak Obama. Who is does NOT work for are people who are only locally well known, live reasonably ordinary lifestyles, and have a painfully insignificant following outside their own cultural context.

The idea that one picture or a five second video can tell the truth about someone's entire personal life. It cannot. It never will. Body language is not even a science. Body language is misleading. Facial expressions are misleading. I am writing this right now with the most bland expression on my face. People around me think I'm writing an email. My internal emotions right now are another story. Moreover no one owes anyone any sort of information on their personal life, their love life, their mood, their life choices or whatever. Their lives are not public property. Please respect that.

The women are the villains. This blatant misogyny has become intolerable as the days go by considering most of these posts are written by women themselves. The whole controlling wife, poor meek guy trope is so fckng infuriating. When did we wake up to a world where women hold the reigns and an adult white upper middle class male cannot tell her that he wants a divorce. I thought this only happened to unprivileged women in third world countries who cannot file a divorce bcs then she will be left penniless and socially disgraced. The women baby trapped them. Of course they feel responsibility for the kids now. Child birth is the second most painful experience after being burnt to death. No woman does it for the pleasure of it nor for some strategic benefit that it will serve her. And giving birth to not just one but many. And then raising them. That's not easy! Secondly, having children is a mutual decision and process. If only women could make babies, we'd get rid of men for good lol! (this is a joke plz don't @ me) If someone decides to have children with someone, and we're not talking just one accidental pregnancy or sth... we're talking several kids over the years.... then they probably have that level of attachment, love and commitment to their partner. It's just common sense.

Absolute cynicism. Anything Georgia and Anna do is met with cynicism and their words are deliberately twisted to mean the opposite. While D and M will be applauded for speaking up for a cause, when G and A do the same, they are shouted down as pretentious or that PR made them do it. When D and M show affection towards each other that's all real and true but when G and A show affection to their partners it fake and a PR stunt. Moreover, the way they interact with their partners is also completely misunderstood. Anna is more private and subtle about her gestures of praise and affection. But from what she does show publicly we know that she absolutely adores her partner and her kids. Georgia on the other hand has her own way. She teases, makes jokes, pokes fun at him, but she's also literally the woman that is being ultra-horny for him on Twitter and Instagram in front of everyone else. And I think that comes from the fact that they were friends first and lovers second and they have maintained that playful friendly relationship with each other. Still, she is accused of never being appreciative, being cringey, possessive, creepy and always bringing him down. Oh, and we never talk about how Michael next to never promotes Davis's achievements. In fact, no one else I know does it. Literally the only person is Georgia jumping up and down going "This is my partner! Have you seen them! Have you seen how awesome they are! I love them!" Not just that, these tinhatters have such double standards that while D's neurodivergent traits are being praised, G takes the rap for it. She's a careless mum, an unworthy partner; none of her professional achievements matter. She is fighting her dyslexia and neurodivergence to achieve something but the tinhatters will make ableist remarks to bring her down. But they don't just stop there. They accuse her of abuse, rape and cyber harassment. Pray that she doesn't find out because accusing someone of that can get you behind the bars hon!

I know that none of this is going to disappear over night. We fight the fight every day and we hope that tumblr goes back to being the safe space it once was. But till then, it is important that we stay strong and stay together. I have had people come into my ds with links and other stuff that made me want to jump off a cliff. I have been subjected to some horrendous lies, all in a bid to 'convert' me. Sadly that's not happening babes.

So I just want these tinhatters to know that if you're here, then we're here too. And no matter how much of this toxic bile you keep spewing we'll keep washing it away. And that @dtmsrpfcringe and @goodomenswarning don't have to do it alone. If you wanna go at them then come at me bitches!

And I'm not scared to call y'all out @ingravinoveritas @letscoffeebreak @nightgoodomens

@invisibleicewands @climb-dtennant-like-a-tree @thetardisisbluandroseistoo and others but mainly you guys cz you're the ring leaders. Go on block me if you want to I don't care! Or better, send me some of those creepy asks you guys send Tori. At least it would take the burden off her!

Oh and, before I go, @dtmsrpfcringe you're a champ and we love you and we stand with you!!!

Yours Sincerely,

Meena. x

curator of TheGeorgiaTennantBlog

[whydoiluvcoffee]

alr since @thelonelydreams humbly requested, I'm making MICHEAL HOLDEN HEADCANONS BC MICHEAL HOLDEN SUPREMACY (btw im using the show micheal not book micheal):

He LOVES cheese. will drown his food in cheese. once went on a date with Tori where they had pasta. He just loaded it up with cheese (tori just casually regretting her life choices atm).

Sorta canon but he's a total dog person. just loves them and would keep some when he gets his own place.

Just starts working directly instead of going to college (in solitaire, he mentions that he has no plans of doing college).

Squirts ketchup into his mouth. like at a diner or something where he takes the squeezy bottle and just, squeezes it right into his mouth.

He's a mix of a golden retriever and an orange cat personality-wise.

Has undiagnosed audhd (was totally a gifted kid growing up but then school got hard).

Spends lots of time online on tumblr and fanfiction sites (for sherlock x watson fics)

Writes his own sherlock x watson fics and uploads them onto AO3/wattpad or smth.

The song "Wake Up" by Cheese People is definitely in his playlist.

Has repressed anger most of the time (may have tried to sh to cope with it but didn't work for him so he stopped).

Is that weirdo who loves pineapple pizza (him and tori have opposing pizza tastes).

Has seen "The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" and enjoyed it.

Would be the main character of an indie film (yk those 2000's ones with the whole vibe).

Doesn't bother with taking care of his hair (it has a soul of its own at this point since it's wild).

Didn't know how to tie a tie or his shoelaces until he was 13 or smth.

Tori, Charlie, Nick and Oliver are his found family (and nick's dogs ofc).

Cries when he gets emotional/has an anger outburst.

Climbed trees when he was younger, fell and something happened, next thing yk his eye is now blue (his heterochromia) and that eye is really weak he can't see too well from it.

Is always that one friend whose just, there, in the sidelines, not really included in anything but really wants a band of mates to call his own.

Listens to Glass Animals, Cavetown, Green Day, and just a bunch of indie and 2000's music.

Hates wearing shorts, it's a sensory issue for him tbh.

Is passively suicidal but having Tori in his life reduced that a bit or else according to him, who else would make her feel okay at times?

Becomes a professional speed skater in the future (sorta canon ig?)

Pedro Pascal and Leonardo DiCaprio were his pan awakening. In middle school, he wouldn't mind dating anyone, regardless of gender. Then later on realized that it was an actual thing called being pan and yea just a bunch of questioning before realizing ig.

Doesn't need physical intimacy in a relationship, he's fine with hugs and kisses and that stuff.

Would LOVE carnivals and their games, food, rides etc.

Likes wearing crocs, just ridiculous lime green froggie crocs. Switches them between default and "sports" mode.

hope y'all like it.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I have a habit of not checking things like author or length on fanfiction, and sometimes I'll read a fic on a whim and think "this is alot of worldbuilding before/between the porn" or "Tomura and Dabi's dynamic is so well written" or even just "I love the style, who wrote this"

and then I check the author and see that my suspisions were right, it was YOU!

I mentally point at my screen like that one Leonardo Dicaprio meme

You have such a distinct and wonderful writing style, I love coming across your fics

And I love the worldbuilding you put in, never because it would somehow make for a more valuable story if seperated from the porn, but because it makes the porn all the more compelling. It's icing on the cake

And the porn itself is some of the best I've read, genuinely great stuff. I can tell you put alot into it and have a great passion for your writing

I love your work! keep doing what you do! You're one of my favorite authors

Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my writing!

I really appreciate such sweet messages! I am still having so much fun writing new stories for these characters, and I am always excited to put out more! Thank you so much for your support and patience!

[buffshipper8490]

🚢 Updated with even more scenes, historical facts, and an expanded ending! 43.6k words! Enjoy! 🚢

🚢Never Let Go PART I A Titanic Story🚢

Summary: An extended, 1912 focused semi-novelization of James Cameron's Titanic (1997) with a (happier) ending

Likes ❤ and Reblogs 🔁are much appreciated!

[tomhardystories]

Part 8

Tom stared at his phone for a moment longer than necessary, as if staring at it would somehow prevent Leo DiCaprio from calling Jules. He knew, deep down, that he had absolutely no right to interfere in her life like this, but the mere thought of Leo, with his sultry smile and infamous charm, getting anywhere near Jules made his stomach churn. Maybe it was just the coffee he’d had - who even knew at this point?

He sighed deeply (a dramatic sigh, like a man who's contemplating the meaning of life or his next career move), and finally dialed Jules. The phone rang twice before she picked up, and Tom immediately felt like he was walking into some kind of trap.

"Heeeeeey” he said, trying to sound calm, cool, and collected (but failing miserably). “How’s it going? You know... chill?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old" Jules replied, sounding half-amused and half-bored, like she'd just been through a week-long movie marathon of The Bachelor. "I’m working. Trying to survive.”

Tom cleared his throat. "Well, uh... I wanted to give you a little... warning. It’s probably nothing, but... Leo might, you know, reach out to you."

There was a pause. A very long pause. One that seemed to stretch out for decades.

“Jack Dawson?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

He needed a moment to understand the joke. “Yeah, that one” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m just giving you a heads-up. If he calls or texts or shows up at your door with a puppy in hand or whatever, just, uh, you know, be careful. He’s kind of a flirt.”

Jules snorted loudly, and Tom felt his heart rate increase in a weird mix of dread and annoyance. “Seriously? Is that why you’re calling? To warn me about Leo DiCaprio? He’s not the first guy who’s ever flirted with me, you know.”

“Well... he might be the most dangerous” Tom added with a deep sigh. “Like, world-class level flirtation. Like... one smile and you might just accidentally end up on a yacht in the Caribbean or something. And who needs that, right? You’re a busy woman.”

Jules let out a laugh that made Tom feel a little less ridiculous, but not much. “Thanks for the heads-up, Tom. But I think I can handle it. I’m not some naive damsel waiting for Leo DiCaprio to come sweep me off my feet, okay? I’ve got standards.”

“Oh, I know” Tom said quickly, trying to backpedal. “I mean, you have way better taste than that, obviously. I’m just saying, he’s not the ‘settle down and get a dog’ type. You know?”

Jules paused, then said, “Not exactly looking for that kind of relationship at the moment, Tom, but... thanks for the unsolicited warning. I’m fine. Really.”

“Right. Right. Of course, you are” Tom said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Anything else, or do you need to text me a list of other Hollywood men I should avoid?”

He was about to say something when suddenly he heard the sound of someone entering Jules' office. The soft click of the door opening was followed by a hushed voice speaking to her.

"Hold on a second, Tom" Jules said quickly, her tone shifting to professional mode. "I’ll be with you in a minute."

Tom listened as Jules spoke, her voice crisp and controlled.

"Whoever did this needs to fix it, and I’ll be there to watch over it. Tell them I’ll attend the next meeting and we’ll go through everything, line by line. I don’t tolerate mistakes like this. They’ll learn the hard way if they think I won’t notice."

Tom raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help but be impressed. There was no hesitation in her voice, no second-guessing, just pure authority. It was clear she wasn’t the kind of boss anyone would want to cross. He found himself both a little awed and, if he was honest, more than a little intimidated.

She came back on the line. “Sorry about that. Where were we? Ah, yes. I have to wrap this up now, Tom. I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes, and I need to get a few things in order before I go.”

Tom could hear the efficient way she handled things. “Of course” he replied, his voice a little quieter now, still processing the tone of authority he’d just heard. “I’ll let you go. Catch you later.”

Jules sighed lightly, but there was something almost affectionate in her tone. "Talk soon, Tom."

When Tom hung up, he was almost certain that Jules had already completely forgotten what they’d been talking about.

For the next few nights, Tom couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was hit with a series of increasingly ridiculous and gut-wrenching nightmares about Jules and Leo. What had started as a mild annoyance had now spiraled into a full-blown psychological siege.

First nightmare began in the most disarming way, as dreams often do. He found himself sitting at a candlelit table at some impossibly chic restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wore tuxedos and the menus didn’t have prices. Across from him sat Jules, laughing at something, her smile lighting up the room. It was nice. Comforting. Until Tom realized that she wasn’t laughing at him.

No, sitting beside her, looking infuriatingly dashing in a perfectly tailored suit, was Leo. Tom watched helplessly as Leo leaned in, brushing a strand of Jules’ hair from her face with that infuriating movie-star charm. Jules looked up at him with that sparkle in her eyes and giggled. Jules. Giggled.

Tom opened his mouth to interrupt, to say… something, but no words came out. Instead, the restaurant morphed around them, the soft clink of glasses and murmured conversations dissolving into the sound of cobblestones underfoot.

Now they were walking hand-in-hand down a sun-drenched Parisian street. Paris. Of course. Jules was wearing some effortlessly chic outfit Tom had never seen her wear, and Leo had his arm slung around her shoulders like he owned the place. Tom trailed a few steps behind, inexplicably barefoot, and holding… a baguette? He tried to catch up, but every time he moved closer, they seemed to glide further away, laughing like he wasn’t even there.

And then, things took a sharp turn into the absurd.

They were at one of Leo’s infamous Hollywood parties now, all shimmering lights and clinking champagne glasses. Jules, now wearing a gown that could pay off Tom’s mortgage, was surrounded by impossibly glamorous people. She was laughing at something Leo said, her head thrown back like he was suddenly the funniest man alive. Tom, stuck on the outskirts of the group, awkwardly held a plate of snacks that kept replenishing itself no matter how many crab cakes he tried to eat.

He cleared his throat, trying to join the conversation, but Jules turned to him, her eyes twinkling with something that looked like pity. “Not now, Tom” she said lightly, before turning back to Leo, who draped an arm over her shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then came the final, gut-wrenching blow.

Leo leaned down, kissed Jules, and she kissed him back. But it wasn’t just a kiss - it was the kind of kiss that made rom-com audiences swoon, with orchestral music swelling in the background. Tom stood frozen, the plate of crab cakes slipping from his hands.

Then, as if this nightmare couldn’t get any worse, Jules broke the kiss to look straight at him. “Tom” she said sweetly, her voice echoing in that bizarre, distorted way dreams sometimes have. “Don’t look so shocked.”

Leo smirked, raising his champagne flute in a mock toast. “Don’t worry, man. There’s someone out there for you too.”

The crowd around them erupted into laughter - deep, mocking laughter that grew louder and louder until it drowned out everything else. Tom tried to shout, to defend himself, but the sound wouldn’t come.

He woke up with a start, his heart pounding, drenched in sweat.

The room was dark and silent, save for the muffled hum of the city outside his window. For a moment, Tom just sat there, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm his racing thoughts.

The second night of Tom’s nightmares started at a red-carpet event, the kind where everyone looked airbrushed in real life. Jules was there, wearing a gown so stunning it seemed to have been spun from the stars. Tom’s brain immediately short-circuited, but the feeling only worsened when he noticed Leo standing beside her, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

A camera flash went off, capturing the perfect moment: Jules, grinning like she’d just been named the new face of luxury toothpaste, and Leo, looking every inch the smug movie star, as though he’d simultaneously won an Oscar, saved a panda, and discovered the cure for world hunger.

Tom, who had been standing somewhere in the background like an underdressed extra, felt a hand on his shoulder. A reporter turned to him, looking vaguely annoyed. “Hey, buddy, could you step aside? You’re blocking the shot.”

The scene morphed without warning, plunging Tom into a sun-dappled garden brunch. Naturally, Jules and Leo were at the center of it, sitting at a rustic table that looked like it had been ripped straight out of an influencer’s Instagram feed.

Jules, now in oversized sunglasses and a breezy linen dress, was laughing at something Leo had said. Leo, with all the swagger of a man who had personally pressed the orange juice they were drinking, poured her a mimosa.

Jules sighed dramatically after a sip. “God, Leo, you’ve ruined regular orange juice for me. It tastes like sadness now.”

“Right?” Leo leaned in closer, as if they were the only two people in the world. “Once you go fresh-squeezed, there’s no going back.”

Tom found himself seated awkwardly at the far end of the table, inexplicably holding a plate of scrambled eggs. He tried to cut in. “So, Jules, remember when we found that diner with pancakes the size of....”

“Oh, Tom” Jules interrupted, not even glancing his way. “Leo and I are gluten-free now. You should try it. It’s life-changing.”

Leo nodded sympathetically, giving Tom the kind of pitying look that only Leo DiCaprio in a nightmare could pull off. “Yeah, man. It might help with the… you know.” He gestured vaguely toward Tom’s midsection.

Tom looked down and, to his horror, saw that in this dream, he was wearing a shirt at least two sizes too small.

The scene dissolved again. Jules and Leo were hosting their dinner party, in their Malibu beach house, which Leo had apparently purchased for them because of course he had.

Jules, seated at the head of the table like the queen of Malibu, was effortlessly charming a group of impossibly attractive people. The breeze wafted through the open windows, candles flickered dramatically, and everyone laughed at exactly the right moments, as if choreographed by a Hollywood director.

Tom, stuck at the far end of the table next to “Guy #4” from The Avengers, tried to contribute. “So, Jules, remember when you accidentally spilled an entire coffee on my....”

“Oh, Tom” Jules said, waving him off with an indulgent laugh. “Nobody’s interested.”

The table erupted into laughter, except for Tom, who stared at his plate like it had personally insulted him.

Leo leaned back in his chair, raising his glass. “To Jules” he said, his smile gleaming. “The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Everyone cheered, while Tom sank lower and lower in his chair, feeling like a punchline to a joke he didn’t understand.

He jolted awake in his bed, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It was 2:19 a.m. He stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding. This was the second night in a row of this madness.

The third night brought with it the most absurd and soul-crushing nightmare yet. It began with Jules and Leo on a yacht. The kind of vessel that made you question whether its owner was a billionaire, a Bond villain, or some unholy combination of both.

Jules was draped in a flowing white sundress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze like it had its own wind machine. Perched on her head was a massive straw hat, the brim so wide it could’ve doubled as a sunshade for the entire deck. She reclined on a deck chair, holding a cocktail that sparkled in a way cocktails had no business sparkling, probably because it was infused with crushed diamonds or some equally ridiculous ingredient.

Leo stood beside her, shirtless, because of course he was, handing her the drink with that casual movie-star charm. “Anything for my muse” he said, flashing his million-dollar smile.

Jules took the glass with an effortless laugh that somehow echoed across the open sea. “Tom who?” she said when one of the impeccably dressed crew members asked about her former friends. “Oh, you mean my old life? I don’t do ‘old life’ anymore. It’s all champagne and sunsets now.”

Cut to Tom, miles away, struggling to paddle a sad little kayak that looked like it had been borrowed from a children’s summer camp. He wore a life vest that seemed too tight, a bucket hat that was too big, and a look of desperation. “Jules!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “Jules! It’s me!”

Jules didn’t even flinch, as if his voice was nothing more than the ocean breeze. Meanwhile, Tom’s kayak seemed to have a mind of its own, veering wildly off course no matter how hard he paddled.

And then, the kicker: a massive sea lion surfaced beside him. It stared at him with an unnervingly judgmental expression, let out a bark that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and promptly rammed the kayak with its blubbery body.

Tom toppled into the water with a strangled yelp, surfacing just in time to see Jules clink glasses with Leo as the yacht sailed off into the horizon. The sun set dramatically behind them, casting them in a golden glow as if nature itself was rooting for their happiness.

As Tom splashed helplessly in the waves, the sea lion circled him like it was considering whether to nudge him toward shore or let him figure it out himself.

Tom woke up in a cold sweat. He groaned, pressing a pillow over his face. “This has to stop” he muttered. 

By the fourth night, he was actively avoiding sleep, afraid of what fresh humiliation his subconscious might conjure up. He’d started drinking more coffee than usual, pacing around his apartment at all hours, and muttering to himself.

“This is insane” he said, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “They’re not even dating. You’re making this up.”

But the thought of losing her, of her forgetting about him, of becoming just another story she told at parties with Leo - was unbearable. He didn’t even care if she dated Leo or anyone else (okay, he did care, but he wasn’t ready to admit that). What he cared about was the idea that their bond, their easy friendship, could disappear just like that.

By the time the fifth night rolled around, Tom had reached his breaking point. He had another nightmare, this one involving Jules, Leo, and a tropical island where Tom had been relegated to the role of their personal butler - but instead of waking up in a cold sweat like before, he shot upright in bed and said out loud:

“That’s it. I’m losing my mind.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer. At 3:17 a.m., Tom, teetering on the edge of panic, grabbed his phone and dialed Jules’s number. The phone rang once, twice, three times. No answer. His heart sank. But then....

“Hello?”

Tom nearly jumped out of his skin. Jules sounded groggy, as if he’d dragged her out of the deepest corners of dreamland. Her voice was soft and concerned, not annoyed, and somehow that made him feel both infinitely better and profoundly worse. He hadn’t even thought of an excuse for calling.

“Jules” Tom began, his voice cracking slightly in a way that only made him cringe harder. “Hey, it’s me. Tom.”

“I know it’s you.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” He winced. Of course, you woke her, genius.

There was a pause. Tom’s mind raced, bracing for her to sound cold or irritated, like in his recurring nightmare - or worse, like she did when she was talking to her assistant. Instead, she let out a sleepy chuckle.

“What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night.”

Tom hesitated, scrambling for a safe response. “I couldn’t sleep. Just… had a weird dream.”

Jules yawned audibly. “Was I in it?”

Tom laughed despite himself. “Yeah, you were there.”

“Oh no.” Her voice brightened slightly, amused. “Was it one of those dreams where I’m a serial killer? Because, for the record, I’d make a terrible criminal. Too chatty. I’d spill everything during the monologue.”

Tom chuckled, the tightness in his chest easing a little. “No, not quite that dramatic.”

“Damn. Missed opportunity. So, what’s up?”

He hesitated again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. How could he explain without sounding like a complete lunatic? He couldn’t exactly say, I called because I’m terrified you’re going to run off with Leonardo DiCaprio and leave me to live my days as a rejected kayaker?

“I don’t know, Jules” he finally admitted, “but it felt real, and… I just needed to hear you still… you know, like me. As a friend, I mean. Still friends, right?”

There was a pause long enough for Tom to feel like the dumbest person alive. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she processed his bizarre, unnecessary late-night confession.

“Of course, you dork” she said, her voice light with affection, punctuated by another yawn.

Tom exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Right. Right” he murmured, feeling both embarrassed and relieved. “I just… uh, needed to hear that. And, Jules?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll never move to Malibu?” he blurted suddenly. “Or, like, go live in some tropical place, and I never see you again?”

Jules laughed - a genuine, sleepy laugh that made him grin despite himself. “Why would I move to Malibu?”

“That’s what people do” he argued. “One day you’re just doing laundry and buying groceries, and the next thing you know, you’re on a yacht with some really talented Hollywood actor.”

“With you?”

“What?”

“You’re the first person I think of when I hear ‘really talented Hollywood actor’ at three in the morning.”

“Oh…” For a moment, he forgot that he was an actor. “No, I wasn’t talking about me. Just, you know, in general. Never mind. Just… no Malibu, okay?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Jules, sounding both amused and exasperated, said firmly, “Tom, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And I once dated someone who thought spaghetti grew on trees.”

Tom let out a startled laugh. “I’m serious, Jules.”

“So am I” she replied. “Look, you’re stuck with me. Even if you send me one more playlist titled Melancholy Rain on a Tuesday Afternoon.”

Tom smiled, warmth spreading through his chest as the knot of anxiety loosened. “Hey, those are curated playlists.”

“Sure they are” she teased. Her tone softened. “I can’t even begin to explain how ridiculous you sound right now. But here’s the thing, Tom: I’m definitely not moving to Malibu. So chill.”

“Because if you did, I’d probably just move into your closet and live there until you remembered me.”

“I’ll ask you one last time: are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But at least I’m not calling you in the middle of the night every week to ask if we’re still friends” he said, then quickly added, “Not that I plan to do that. This is a one-time thing.”

“Oh, I know. I’m going to remember this forever” Jules replied, her voice playful now. She chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m cute?” he repeated, his chest swelling with a mix of disbelief and pride. “You said cute? Not ‘acceptable’ or ‘fine,’ but actually cute?”

Jules laughed again. “Oh, absolutely. Don’t get used to it, though. It’s three in the morning, and I’m half asleep. Tomorrow, I might start calling you ‘average.’ Now, go to bed. No more bad dreams, kid. And don’t call me at three a.m. unless it’s an emergency or you’ve accidentally set yourself on fire.”

Tom chuckled. “Got it. Goodnight, Jules.”

“Night.”

He stared at his phone for a moment after she hung up, feeling like he’d just made the most ridiculous call of his life. But at least he had one thing to hold onto: she still liked him.

[goongiveusnothing]

I definitely don’t think she’s a good person, but I will never understand what that woman — someone with interests, a social life, kids, a budding new career — saw in an empty vessel like Harry to completely throw her life away the way she did. Like, I can’t imagine being her friends and watching that disaster unfold for years.

I felt the same way. Watching her interviews related to dwd, it's very clear that she's passionate about directing. She speaks very eloquently yet I wondered how can someone like her fall for an absolute idiot. I think she was in love with the version of him she had in her mind, which is why she praised that man for literally anything (remember when she said he's devoid of toxic masculinity only because he wore a fkn apron). Her nanny spilled that when Jason & her went for couples therapy, the therapist said she was addicted to him like he's her personal drug (not exact words). Because she had this glorified version of him in her head, anything he did was attractive to her to the point it cost her her family, movie & reputation. But then she had to learn it in a hard way that he WAS in fact just like every other men. Its very comical to me that she praised him to be devoid of toxic masculinity only for him to makeout with her friend not even 1 year after their breakup (I can never see emrata the same way again after watching that monstrosity)

it's exactly what it was. she basically got with a fantasy romance figure. like dating leonardo dicaprio around titanic era and thinking he actually was jack from the movie. that's how olivia and many other women see harry. he's created a fanfic version of himself as a real romantic lead. his fans have crafted this sexually open sexually expressive romantic sweet political intelligent funny down to earth gentle soul of a man and get wet at the fantasy they invented largely from larrie stylinson fanfiction that helped them escape from the way he treated women in real life.

that's who olivia was addicted to, and who his fans care about.

sometimes i'll be minding my business and suddenly remember that apron conversation and be floored. imagine losing your mind over a man because you thought him wearing an apron in a movie was a sign he was a modern male feminist who was subverting all gender norms. an apron!!!! she was basically going wild with him existing near her and not being some incel fascist.

[wol-fica]

saw a post the other day about how a writer on AO3 used AI to finish the ending of their story and they had the audacity to “recommend the ‘flawless-ness’ and ‘easygoing’ it is to use AI”

First and foremost:

Logically, almost 97% of writers come up with and create their stories from their own brains. Wether it’s with personally trauma put onto a page, or they got bored and decided to write a fanfiction about walking in the rain with their character of choice. Either way, they came up with it ON THEIR OWN and it’s THEIR own creation.

When people (like that AO3 user) us AI to make stories or even just add onto one, it crushes the rest of us because WE all put our sweat and ideas into our stories, just to be crushed by a technological superbot that can create almost anything if you just ask it to.

When people talk about how useless the on-going strike is, let me put it into this perspective.

Imagine you work your ass off to create a masterpiece, something everybody loved and adores, something that wins you awards and fame

Now imagine that you earn 2% of that “masterpiece’s” final profit, and the other 98% goes to your CEO who barely lifted a finger to help it or you.

Actors and Writers are struggling, they can barely buy groceries let alone live in their own apartments. AI is being used to create scripts, and it’s being used to put faces on people. (If you’ve seen the tictoks with those people pretending to be Leonardo DiCaprio and Jenna Ortega, then you know what I mean.)

You would think that actors who are winning oscar’s and being nominated for emmy’s should be living in luxury with leather couches and food always there for them. WRONG Ke Huy Quan won an entire oscar for his skill and then couldn’t afford health insurance the next year.

Consider the fact that AI is a curse to all of us, Actors, Writers, Fanfiction Creators, whoever. It’s a danger that can replicate faces and voices whenever a user wants it to, and that is incredibly scary.

If you are a writer who uses AI to create your stories and you post that work on here claiming it’s handwritten, please leave before the rest of us rat you out and expose you for your lies.

Some of us work hard, take time out of ours days, hell even stay up at night to create fics for people to read. It’s crushing when someone who has never written anything before just asks ChatGPT to write them a story and then posts it online saying things like “hope you like it, i feel insecure abt the ending” or “this was meh, but okay”

kind of shit like that? don’t do it.

[psychedelic-ink]

Well it’s like this discourse has come in gone about age gap politics- like talking about the difference between Leonardo DiCaprio relationships and Sarah Paulsons relationship with Holland Taylor. I don’t see many fic (and if it is- it’s HEAVILY tagged) about an early 20s reader or 18/19 year old reader. Recognizing trends in fics and having fair discussion about power dynamics is one thing - straight up infantilizing younger fem readers who are written as mid twenties and older and claiming their relationship with older MMC is inherently unhealthy is a whole other thing

alright, so this is going to be my last answer regarding this age gap discourse because I'm tired. There are similar arguments about dark content too and as someone who writes it all I just want people to relax (it's also funny how I got roped into all of this when initially the thing that pissed me off in the fandom had nothing to do with this lmaodfv)

Of course, there is a lot to talk about when it comes to the nature of irl age gap and I think sometimes people kinda allow one to bleed into the other. Fictional characters aren't real. It's important to remember that fan fiction is a creative outlet, and just like any form of artistic expression, it covers a wide range of themes and scenarios, whether we like it or not.

In the realm of fanfiction, the beauty lies in its diversity and the freedom it offers writers to explore different narratives. Anyone can write about anything, as long as it falls within the realm of creativity and imagination. Whether it's age gap relationships, alternate universes, or unconventional pairings, fan fiction allows for endless exploration.

Critically, if a particular theme or relationship dynamic doesn't resonate with you or makes you uncomfortable, it's perfectly acceptable to simply scroll past it and explore other stories that align with your preferences. One of the wonderful things about fan fiction is the choices available, ensuring that there's something for everyone.

Engaging in discussions about various themes in fan fiction is both healthy and important. Sharing opinions, creating resource masterlists, and even requesting recommendations that align with certain preferences is just fine. I don't think asking for non age gap fics or not liking age gap is "kink shaming" (I'm not even sure age gap counts as a kink???)

However, where issues can arise is when discussions take a negative turn, becoming confrontational or dismissive of different viewpoints. It's crucial to approach these conversations with respect for differing opinions and to maintain a welcoming environment for everyone. When hate starts getting involved it's just unpleasant for all.

Long story short, fan fiction is a realm of limitless creativity where writers can explore various of themes and scenarios. While discussions and debates are valuable, the key is to maintain open-mindedness and respectful dialogue without making passive-aggressive comments.

If a particular theme isn't to your liking, you have the freedom to explore the vast expanse of fan fiction to find the stories that resonate with you.