#like the academy would give them a shut up award

[vvh0adie]

Black History Fact: Scammy’s Edition

In the entire history of the Grammy’s (66 shows) only 11 Black artists have won Album of the Year. And only 3 of those have been Black women. And only 1 hip-hop/rap album has won that category.

We have yet to see Beyonce, Solange, Usher, Mariah, Anita, Missy, Mary J, Toni, TLC, Janet, Rihanna.

And we will never see the likes of Luther Vandross, Prince, Lisa Left Eye, and many more.

Every modern music genre is made by us and yet only 11 Black people, specifically African American, have won and most of them only have 1 AOTY.

Stevie Wonder is the only black person to have 3, surpassed by 2024’s AOTY winner.

It’s very clear what’s going on…

I understand why Kanye pissed on that $15/30 trophy

I am mind blown. 66 years, 11 artists and that’s taking in consideration that everything before and during Jim Crow was an era of not even allowing Black people at these awards. So as always white folks have had a step ahead cause Duke Ellington, Ma Rainey and Cab Calloway would have smoked back then.

Being Black is a highly specific level of Surrealism.

[dollfacefantasy]

Like Lovers Do

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits

word count: 2.1k

a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3

Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.

“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.

His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”

You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.

“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.

Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.

“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.

Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.

“Do you?” he teases back.

“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”

You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.

Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.

As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.

The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door 

“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class. 

A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.

“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.

He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.

“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.

Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.

“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.

“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.

His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.

This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.

You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.

In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.

“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,” he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.

The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.

He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.

“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.

He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.

“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”

You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.

“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.

He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.

“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.

Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.

“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.

You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.

“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.

He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.

“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.

“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.

Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.

“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.

He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.

You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.

“Give ‘em to me,” he says.

You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.

He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”

You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.

“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.

[akixxsstuff]

Dating L would be like...

Death Note L Lawliet x gender neutral reader

(I'm aware that the picture says girlfriend but the gender of the reader is not specified in the fic. The pictures were also edited by me).

Fluff // One shot

Summary: L was more like a machine than a human, he was cold, calculated and a "no fun and games" type of person aside from the occasional sarcastic or dry humored comment. L never lost his composure and would repress any emotion he had has a intimidation tactic. He was blunt and wouldn't allow anything or anyone to dethrone him.

However around you, L wasn't quite that...

The task force had suspected you and L were a couple, but whenever anyone asked about it, L would quickly shut down the conversation and went back to his work, saying that it wasn't any of their business. You and L were a couple but he just wanted to keep things secretive and professional since doing otherwise made him feel vulnerable.

He couldn't let his suspect Light know how much you meant to him just in case he used it against him, plus it was just in L's nature to be serective.

However as soon the doors were closed and the task force was gone, he would be nuzzling into your shoulder, whining for attention. He would never stop clinging onto you until he got he's way because in his own words, "I'm also childish and don't like to lose".

Like today for instance:

"Not now Lolly, I've got an appointment to book", you said sighing while L continued kissing your neck and nibbling your ear from behind. "I love you but I do not appreciate your lack of cooperation" L then grumbled.

Lolly was your main pet name for L since it sounded like it was short for lollipop, (and we all know how much L loves those) and sounded similar to his real name, Lawliet. Panda was also another common one since he reminded you of one with his dark eyes and pale skin.

He then kneeled in between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, looking up at you in annoyance in an attempt to guilt trip you, (however he couldn't mask he's pleading eyes). "Lolly I already told you I'm busy, just 10 more minutes okay my love?" you cooed while stroking his cheek. But L didn't care, he picked you up bridal style from your chair and tossed you onto the bed. "Lawliet, you should know of all people how important it is to not have any distractions from your work" you said rasing an eyebrow. "You make a fair point" L says with his thumb on his lip, "But I'm not feeling very empathetic tonight" then he proceeded to smother you with kisses.

Another thing L wouldn't budge on is removing all the cameras and wiring taps from your room, if someone broke in and tired to hurt you he needed to know immediately who was responsible so he could toss them in jail forever. He valued your life way more than his, afterall, he did challenge Kira to kill him live on broadcast.

Your dates were either cafe hopping, picnics in the park, or L trying to teach you tennis. You would always try to get him to wear shoes but he would refuse, saying "I don't like how they feel". "I know but I don't want you to step on a piece of glass and hurt yourself" you would say while kissing his forehead. "I will live" L would reply while blushing from your kiss. You would then sigh and take off your shoes, "Fine, if that's how you want to play" and you both would walk around barefoot.

L absolutely loved when you taunted his number one suspect Light, in fact it was his love language.

"I'm not Kira!" Light would yell.

"You're not a very convincing actor Light, but hey! Maybe they'll give you an academy award in prison just for trying. Light Yagami! Mass murderer tries playing innocent victim!".

As a detective, L would always be analysising people's behaviour and you were no expectation.

"How was your day darling?" L cooed.

"Fine. I'm going to my room".

You say that you're fine Y/N yet you're tone and lack of physical affection would indicate otherwise. Could you be trying to deprive me of your attention as an indirect punishment? What could have I done?

However, you did mention how your work load has increased because of the lack of empyoees, were you stressed from that and simply avoided me to avoid talking about it? I should confront you instead of making any assumptions, it could make matters worse because you might believe that I am deliberately ignoring you.

"Love, I believe I have done something to upset you, please tell me what it is was so I can correct my behaviour. Will you accept this piece of cake as a initial peace offering? If I'm not to blame then please tell me who's bothering you so I can potentially sue them".

[coquelicoq]

just finished my rewatch so i am here to bring you the important fax, such as:

how many dramatic thunderstorms take place over the course of 40 episodes of the double?

the answer may surprise you!

episode 1. the og. xue fangfei is buried alive by her husband, who then goes in for a lil psychological torture courtesy of the princess. meanwhile, su-guogong kicks down the door of a contraband salt warehouse and does a sick spin onto the back of a chair completely unnecessarily. for the aesthetic. you really get your bang for your buck with this one because it also features in at least ELEVEN separate flashbacks in later episodes (episodes 4, 7, 9 (three FBs), 11, 13, 17, 24, 27, and 32, to be specific).

episode 7. shen yurong comes to the jiang residence to give "jiang li" an entrance exam for fancy pants academy. she drops hella hints to her true identity and keeps bringing up how much it sucked to be abandoned on that mountain :) while a storm rages around them much akin to the one that made the whole live burial thing especially dramatic. as if being buried alive needed additional pathos.

episode 13. xue fangfei is called before the jiang family tribunal because she's got some explaining to do about what happened at the palace banquet (where, if you recall, jiang ruoyao attempted to set her up to be violated and disgraced, and instead found their cousin in bed with jry's fiance). of course our girl wipes the floor with these amateurs. she's bringing melodramatic precipitation to the table, and what do they have, a face wound? god's least favorite soldier (the concubine's son)? please. you gotta get up earlier in the morning than that to pull one over on this fake ex-nun.

episode 14. this one is maybe the funniest to me from a doylist perspective because it's just one single thunderclap/lightning bolt right after the emperor says to xiao heng, the princess hates you. she might even try...to KILL YOU. like bro this is not news to anybody lol. but at least the universe has a sense of dramatic timing. there is no other sign of this storm, not even rainfall, in any other part of the episode...the emperor summoned a stormcloud just for that one sentence and then was like okay i got what i needed, run along now.

episode 17. wins the award for cutest rainstorm. a drunk xue fangfei holds xiao heng's cheeks very insistently between her hands, looking up into his eyes as rain falls in her face. he takes off his utterly sodden cloak and wraps it around her shoulders, surely doing absolutely nothing w/r/t keeping her dry but at least seeming very tender about it. the rain is obviously integral to the scene, but i think the thunder and lightning are mainly here because someone involved with this production really likes thunder and lightning. we also get a flashback to this one in...

episode 18. the metaphorical masturbation scene (xue fangfei lies in a tub artfully draped in fabric nuzzling the soft petals of a rose while xiao heng does half-naked swordplay dripping with rain). again i think somebody was just having a lot of fun with the thunderstorm effects on set that day. rain would have been sufficient, but if there's one thing you can say about this show, it's that everyone involved agreed that "sufficient" will not suffice. we are not here to regular-ass things. we are here to double- or even triple-ass them. and when in doubt on how to achieve that, add some fucking meteorological event. some kind of audiovisual spectacle. it's literally coming down from the heavens. what, are we gonna ask for subtlety? from this show? not if we know what's good for us.

episode 20. xue fangfei has just asked the auntie down the street in huaixiang to testify on her father's behalf, getting down on her knees and begging, only to have the door shut in her face. ouch. if that's not prime time for some rain to mingle with her tears, her surroundings reflecting her inner state, i don't know what is. it's giving textbook pathetic fallacy.

episode 25. ji shuran meets with the imperial diviner who turns out to be her long lost lover she thought she had successfully burned to death!!! (ohhh sidenote i am just now getting the jsr-syr parallel with this.) honestly if they had neglected to punctuate this scene with thunder and lightning i would have been metaphorically holding the back of my hand up to the production's forehead to check for fever. it would not be a sign of health, given this show's general baseline.

episode 27. xue fangfei meets with jiang yuanbai's concubine, hu-yiniang, trying to convince her to help xue fangfei fuck ji shuran's shit right up. the weather didn't help her recruit the huaixiang auntie, but it works like a charm on auntie hu. (i'm choosing to believe the weather is a sentient entity and it's showing up to drench xue fangfei like a wet cat at irregular intervals like ⛈ im helping 🥰)

episode 28. the exorcism. fuck yes there's a thunderstorm during the exorcism. what are we even doing here if the showdown between olympic-grade synchronized charlatan choreography and mad-with-grief-mother-approved creepy ventriloquism isn't punctuated by bolts of lightning? don't waste my time. perfectly timed thunderclaps or gtfo.

episode 29. gotta have some thunder and lightning while visiting the tombstone of your brother who isn't actually dead (but you don't know that). definitely gotta have some rain so your crush can show up out of nowhere and lovingly hold an umbrella over your head. that's just basic science. step 4.7 of the water cycle.

episode 30. xue fangfei comes to the academy to rehearse the duet for the zhao envoy and dun dun dunnnn...only shen yurong is there!!! i am feeling distinctly menaced, but on her behalf, or on his? hard to say. on the one hand, he did attempted-murder her. on the other hand, she's xue fucking fangfei and he's the chump who attempted-murdered her. sweet dreams, bucko.

episode 35. consort li visits the princess in an attempt to get her diagnosed with Pregnancy...out of wedlock!! lots of thunder but no lightning until shen yurong shows up afterward and is like, hey honey i figured out how to solve this problem, just marry this totally other dude 👍 wanning is Not having a good day and the weather got the memo.

episode 39. what would u even do if ur lover poisoned you & took that opportunity to rescue his ex-wife from ur dungeon & walked out holding her in a bridal carry (after using knockout gas on her, natch) & when he saw u he tenderly placed her down out of the rain? what would u do if u had the hairpin u thought he had given u as a sincere token of love and commitment & this hairpin was sharp enough to impale a person & u could put it in his hand pointed toward u & then u could pull his hand right into ur abdomen? WHAT WOULD U DO if all this was the case BUT THERE WAS NO THUNDER AND LIGHTNING WHILE THIS WAS GOING DOWN?? i think i would just NOT impale myself on my own hairpin using my traitorous lover's hand. out of PIQUE. i know weather patterns are driven by atmospheric forces or whatever but come on man. that would just be rude. so thankfully the weather showed up to give the princess the dramatic accompaniment her iconic death scene deserved. she died as she lived: dangerous, vulnerable, electrifying. i'm buying the effects people a round for this one. they made it count.

so, 14 individual thunderstorms, plus at least 10 flashbacks* to one of those thunderstorms, for (at minimum) 24 total scenes featuring thunderstorms in 40 episodes. *(i say "at least" because i probably missed some. and there are 12 FBs mentioned in this post, but two of them were being remembered while another thunderstorm was taking place, so their scenes have already been included in the count of 24.) and that is not even counting 1) lightning in an imaginary what-if scene in episode 6 in which xiangqiao (one of jsr's planted servants) says "if i'm lying, strike me with lightning!" or 2) the magical lightning strikes that jiang ruoyao and/or xue fangfei may or may not create during the guqin exam cgi extravaganza in episode 11 (kinda hard to tell if that was lightning or not). if you count those too you start to wonder if the crew was getting some kind of bulk discount on lightning bolts from the lightning bolt factory...but that's none of my business 😌

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 3 - Rewards & Curfews

Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Summary - Eddie makes good on his promise.

A/N - This chapter is 99% smut, with 1% plot at the very end, like it's filthy so I hope you don't think less of me. Reader has a Dad who I have semi modelled off of Mr Stratford from 10 Things I Hate About You, but we'll have more on him later.

I also just wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has interacted with this story so far, it really does mean a lot.

Chapter warnings: (MDI) 18+ only, oral sex (f & m receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, swearing, consensual use of the word slut.

Updated version posted 02/04/23

Tag list: @avalon-wolf

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

Eddie hoists you into the back of the van, your giggling smothered by his heated kisses. "Lay down for me sweetheart."

You raise an eyebrow looking at the scuffed and dirty baseboards which made up the floor.

"Such a spoiled brat." He huffs with a laugh, shucking his cut and jacket off, placing them down like a blanket, you perch daintily careful not to sit on any of his pin badges, watching in anticipation as he slams the van doors shut.

Eddie on his knees was some sight to see, you lean forward, pulling him to you by the hem of his well worn Hellfire Club t-shirt. Eddie was, in your opinion, an extremely good kisser; his full lips plush and soft against yours, tongue swiping gently for access. You would have been happy to make out with him in the back of the van for hours, but Eddie has other ideas.

  "I wanna see that pretty cunt of yours properly princess." He growls, unbuttoning your skirt roughly pulling it down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere towards the front seat of the van. You made to reach down to unzip your knee highs but he batted your hands away. "Boots stay on sweetheart." He says with a devastating wink., 

All you can do is lay there breathing heavily as he licks, kisses and nips his way up from your knees to your inner thighs, hands keeping your legs apart, murmuring filthy praises against your heated skin.

You thought he would move straight onto eating you out, but instead he pushes your top up slightly, kissing across your stomach. You could feel him smiling against you as he drifted over a ticklish spot, doing it again so your muscles jumped. He makes a tiny nipping trail back down your naval, placing butterfly kisses on your mound just above the patch of neatly trimmed downy hair.

"Oh baby, you are so fucking wet and I've barely touched you." He taunts you softly, hovering above your needy pussy, his breath teasing your clit as he laughs, keeping your hips still with his large hands.

  "Eddie, please." You whine, running a desperate hand through his mess of curls trying to pull him closer.

"What's the matter sweetheart, tell me what you need?" He asks in mock concern, his Cheshire cat grin growing wider.

"I need your tongue." You beg, considering writing an amendment in the pact that stated Eddie couldn't tease you like this every damn time.

"Need my tongue where?" His tone is the epitome of innocence, brown eyes wide as saucers, like he’s gunning for an Academy Award.

"Jesus, Eddie, are you really going to make me give you explicit instructions?" You groan, trying to press your hips up but he has you royally pinned down with a strength that surprised you. He doesn’t answer, brown eyes staring up at you, goading you silently as he sucks another hickey onto your hip bone.

"Eddie, will you please fuck my cunt with your mouth?" You plead, wanting to cry.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises, finally swiping a long languid lick through your folds to your clit. 

If Eddie was a good kisser it was nothing compared to this, his tongue lapping at you like a condemned man presented with his last meal, you pull his hair and that only spurs him on switching from suckling your swollen clit, to tongue fucking you and back again. 

"Oh fuck!" You cry out wantonly, not caring that you sound like a porn star from the adult section of Family Video, Eddie doesn’t seem to care either moaning against you in such a way the vibrations have you seeing stars.

  "Wanna ride my fingers Princess?" He pants, chin glistening obscenely from your wetness, coming up to kiss you deeply.

“Please.” You breathe, catching his mouth in another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He slips two fingers into your cunt with ease, scissoring rapidly.

“God, sweetheart, this pussy.” He groans, diving back in flickering his tongue against your clit.

“Think you can take another one of my fingers? Hmm? You take three fingers in your sweet little pussy and I'll make you cum? Give you another reward for being such a good little slut?” He asks, holding your free hand with his, anchoring you both.

"Please…" You hiccup weakly, you can hear how wet you are, feel it dripping down your slit to your ass, crying out as you feel the third finger enter your throbbing pussy, with an obscene squelch. Eddie stretches you wide, his fingers pressing insistently inside you seeking out the spot you could never reach yourself, his tongue focusing intensely on your clit. You prop yourself up on your elbows, the scene is utter debauchery, Eddie has a look of pure bliss on his face, like your pussy is the most delicious thing in the world.

Placing both hands on the back of his head, you ride his tongue and fingers with abandon, Eddie lets out a guttural groan, you can see by the way he’s pressing his hips to the floor, that he is chasing his own release in whatever form of friction he can find.

  The speed of his fingers increased, pumping you deeply, crooking them upwards and you feel your walls clamping hard, your orgasm shooting through you like lightning, violent to the point of pain.

"Fuck!" You yelp, thinking it was finished but Eddie only retracts his fingers to replace them with his tongue, licking as deeply as he can go, thoroughly fucking you with the wet muscle, lapping up your cream. 

"Ed's it's too much." You cry out, trying to push him away as you quickly become oversensitive, burning with continuous pleasure.

"I can't stop baby, you taste so good, gonna make me cum in my pants." He whines against your cunt, and you feel your pussy clench hard again around his exploring tongue at the thought.

"Eddie, come here, please." You beg, suddenly desperate to feel his heavy cock in your mouth, finally able to push him off, you sit up tugging frantically at his belt, Eddie catches on quickly leaning back on his calves trying to help you with shaky hands.

"Sweetheart, shit." He gasps as you pull his length free, the head swollen, bright red and leaking heavily with pre-cum. You waste no time taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping up the salty liquid, sucking him deep to the back of your throat, bobbing rhythmically. 

Eddie whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, if you had been standing it would have made your knees weak, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Baby, fuck, so good, oh my god. I'm gonna- fuck I'm gonna cum princess." He chokes out with something akin to a sob, making to pull you off, but you take him deeper, eyes watering as you gag; feeling several spurts of hot cum hit the back of your throat swallowing it all with a moan.

  Eddie pulls you off him with a wanton grunt, smashing your lips together in a messy kiss, tasting each other. You didn't realise how much you are trembling until you break apart for air, feeling dizzy as Eddie presses his forehead to yours, hands rubbing at your arms reassuringly.

"You ok sweetheart?" He asks quietly.

"I think so." You laugh shakily, trying to catch your breath. "You are really good at that." 

Eddie flushes a deeper shade of pink all the way up to his ears.

"Yeah ditto princess." He grins bashfully, both still kneeling, the surrounding air feeling oddly charged, you suppress a shiver suddenly aware of your lack of clothing from the waist down.

"Um Eddie, where are my clothes?" You ask awkwardly; feeling strangely exposed now the heat of the moment has faded.

"Oh, uh - here." He leans into the cab retrieving your panties and skirt.

You mutter a small "thanks" as he hands them to you, pulling your panties back up you register the time on your watch, 23:47 glaring up at you.

  "Shit!" You shriek loudly, forcing your skirt back up with renewed vigour, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"What? What is it?" Eddie yelps, yanking his boxers up, eyes darting about in panic clearly expecting to see something nasty like a cockroach.

"Oh my god Eddie, my curfew is at midnight. If I'm not home in exactly 13 minutes my Dad will kill me!" You cry clambering into the front of the van, he jumps up to follow you smacking the crown of his head on the roof.

"Ow! Fuck! JESUS! Why didn't you say you had a curfew?!" Eddie shouts frantically, his jeans still around his knees as he climbs into the cab, clumsily falling into the driver's seat. 

"I lost track of time, this wasn't exactly how I planned to spend the night!" You yell back.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'll get you there." He reassures you but doesn’t sound overly confident as he zips his fly.

  Fortunately Eddie knows roughly where you live, as your house backs onto the same street as his friend Gareth's.

"Eddie, my Dad can't kill me if I'm already dead." You remind him anxiously, jolting about in your seat, hands on the grab handle for support as he takes another corner at breakneck speed, your stomach lurching, the time now 23:53.

"Baby I said I'd get you there." Eddie responds through gritted teeth, almost mounting a curb. You were only one block away when you screamed. 

"Wait, stop!" 

Eddie slams the brakes hard, the van screeching to a halt, bracing your arms against the dashboard.

"What the hell?!" He yells

"You can't drop me off outside my house, my Dad will freak out if he thinks I've been with a boy all night instead of at the party with Robin." You explain, quickly checking yourself over in the rear-view mirror, desperate to make it look like you hadn't spent the entire evening having sex. 

  "You could have told me that before I shredded my tires." He hisses, looking furious, as you hop out.

You stand awkwardly on the sidewalk unsure what to say, Eddie also seemed to be on unfamiliar ground.

"Sooo, I guess I'll see you Monday at school?" You say.

"Uh yeah, see you at school."

You nod, starting to walk away, feeling weirdly deflated when Eddie speaks again.

"Or I could - uh give you a call tomorrow after work, see if you wanted to hang out or something?" He stammers, you can’t hide your grin as you slip hurriedly back into the van, you reach into his jacket pocket pulling out the pen from the diner, scribbling your number onto the palm of his hand.

  "What should I say if your Dad answers?" He asks warily.

"He won't, I've got a separate line." You say, clambering out again. "And besides we're just innocent study buddies Edward." You grin cheekily, striding away. 

"It's a sin to lie sweetheart." He calls after you, you flick your skirt up in response, flashing your ass.

"Going to hell anyway Munson." You shout back to the sound of his raucous laughter, hearing the van peel away.

  You reach your front door at 11:59, puffed out from jogging the last few steps, you had done way too much cardio this evening. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, you creep up the stairs, inches away from the sanctuary of your bedroom when your Dad's voice rings out from across the hall.

  "Cutting it a little fine there kiddo." 

  You winced hoping he would have been asleep but knowing no such luck. You poke your head into his room,  determined to keep as much of you hidden as possible knowing you'd had to have at least one hickey blooming on your neck.

He was sitting up in bed with a car magazine in hand and an impassive expression on his face.

"Hey Dad, sorry, I lost track of time." 

  "Was it a good party?" He asks, taking off his reading glasses.

  "It was ok." You reply non-committedly.

  "Just ok? Was Steve there?" He presses, a knowing look on his face.

  "Yeah, but I didn't really see much of him, he was with Nancy." You could tell he was confused at your calm demeanor, usually after a party you would either come home crying over Steve or mooning over Steve depending on the situation, you tried not to squirm under his searching gaze.

  "Ok Sprout, so long as you had a good time."  He says finally, flipping his magazine back open. "And remember to set your alarm, you've got work tomorrow."

"Will do, night Dad." 

Worried he might decide to call you back for more in depth questioning, you retreat to your room as quickly as possible, letting out a groan seeing the state you and Robin had left it in.

Showering in record time you slump out of the bathroom, shoving your rejected outfits off the bed and onto the floor, crawling under the covers head spinning with tiredness. Amusing yourself as you drift off that if someone had told you that morning, that you'd be ending the day with Eddie Munson's face in-between your thighs you would have laughed and then had them committed. 

[byrdstrolls]

Ethic

“Isn’t it weird tho. Like all reservations aside. All precognitions on tarot and it’s validity reserved. Just- in and of itself, don’t you think it’s weird that every reading I do about this I always get these exact cards in this exact order?” Nesseo exhales. 

You are blinking tiredly at your computer screen across the dining table. 

“I don’t know. Shit. I’d probably just say you’re not shuffling them correctly.” You huff, glancing back at your sibling. 

“I know I’m-” Nesseo snaps back, stopping abruptly, swallowing their frustration. “I’ve been” They say, coating the word with emphasis- “Shuffling. You know I didn’t believe in this shit to begin with either. I just. Can you admit that it’s weird?” 

“Okay” You say, pushing up your glasses. “It’s weird.” 

“Yeah” They reply. “It’s weird.” 

There is then a wanting pause, as if they needed more in the response than that, some expectation had gone unspoken. Nesseo stares at you for a long moment, before raising their eyebrows pointedly, a mimed and silent ‘and…?’ to add to their sentence. 

“Ness” You say, frustrated. “If you have a fucking, non tarot based complaint I’d love to hear it.” 

“What is the probability of this, even? If the universe wanted to beat us over the head with an omen-” 

“How many cards are in that deck?” You prompt. 

“Seventy eight.” They reply. 

You stuff some numbers into your computer’s calculator, just because you can.

“Then in a three card spread, if shuffled properly, there is a 1/474,552 possibility that you get those three cards in that order.” You say. 

“See! One in nearly five thousand, that's weird” They insist. 

“But. But Nesseo, it's not necessarily any more or less unlikely than any other fucking three card spread in existence. Which is also 1/474,552” You say, peering into your coffee, finding it empty.

“If Mondes came to you. With an obvious ill omen. Would you listen to him?” Ness accuses. 

“No.” You retort. “Because I make my decisions based on facts.” 

“Yeah right” They mutter to their cards as they shuffle. “You wouldn’t say it like that.” They whisper aside. 

You close your laptop lid. Some part of you is passingly aware of how tired you are, that you stayed up late last day looking twice over through the fleet files, that it’s the gentle toxic touch of a headache pounding near your sinuses you’re angry with, and not your younger sibling, but not aware enough to cut this conversation short when it was so unceremoniously handed off to you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say. “Do you have a fucking problem you’d like to speak a little louder on?” 

“I don’t know Hanagi.” Nesseo says. “Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am stupid.” 

“I didn’t say that-” You interject, but they continue as if they haven’t heard you. 

“The guy at my AA meetings was like, ‘Nesseo, you should get a hobby’ So I did. But now that I’m actually good at the tarot cards, everyone's like shut up Nesseo, get a reallll hobby, you’re so cringe with those things showing obvious signs of mental illness. You’re so annoying now we prefered you when you were-” 

“Don’t say that” You reply gently, sensing the end of the sentence. “I’m happy you’re having fun, Ness, really, but I'm not gonna suddenly integrate cards based decision making into my belief system because of it.” 

“Five times” They hiss. “Five times, I got this exact spread.”

“I’m glad you’re sober, and you’re finding fucking, new ways to spend your time, really. But I think you’re taking this a little too seriously.” 

“Yeah, one sweep sober. The six perigee chip, the sweep chip- they’re running out of awards to give me. I’d like to thank my lusus and the academy.” They mumble.

You sit still at the table, staring, as you often are, unsure of what to say, how to bridge the gap of the wealth that you do not and can not understand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You say quietly. “Everyones still really proud of you.” 

“‘Still’” They say, rolling closer to you. “Is that a threat?” They retort. 

“No!” You snap back. 

“I thought…” They trail off, their gaze trapped at a fixed point on the wall. 

“...What?” You prompt. 

“I thought if I was sober you guys would treat me different.” They say, so quietly you almost can’t hear. 

“Ness” You say softly. 

“This thing. It’ll fail” They say. 

“No Ness,” You stutter, your panic really starting to set in. “Your sobriety is not going to fail-” 

“Not my sobriety Hanagi! This!” They say, gesturing at your laptop. “This whole, stupid heist! It’s gonna go ass backwards in a way that fucks up our family even more. All I see. Every reading I do.” 

“We don’t know that-” You defend.

“Yes, we do.” They retort. “Hanagi” They say, voice layered and gruff in a manner not typical of the floaty, ethereal way Nesseo often spoke, They turn away. “I get that like, you weren’t there for the worst of it, okay? When me and Mondes were on the run. You were in space. But it was bad. It was bad bad. I couldn’t tell days apart.” They say, the voice they’re muttering in wavering.  

“I still don’t remember a lot of it. And if you wrap up our family in something that puts me in that position again. I will never forgive you. You can’t dive headfirst into shit that’s gonna make us wanted by the government again and then act like you give a shit about my SOBRIETY.” They snap. 

You shrink under their gaze. 

“I- okay, Ness, you know, if you wanted fucking out you could have just said so. We can find someplace for you.” 

“I don’t want out, I want everyone out, Hanagi. NONE of you should be doing this. Not Mondes, who is trying so hard to act like he doesn’t care about reliving all his shit from his childhood. Not Bee, who is trying to build a life on foundations so fragile they threaten to shatter at any moment. And not YOU, who-” 

“Who what?” You snap. 

They stare at you, a gaze unforgiving in its totality and singularity of emotion. “Who works too much. And needs to give yourself time to process what happened with Dulkyu” They say. 

You are so blindsighted by this you nearly physically stumble. 

“It’s been nearly two sweeps” You mutter, since you and the other eldest Cheong cut ties. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve stopped to breathe since” Nesseo dares. And you don’t answer. Because you can’t. Maybe it's not the cards Nesseo is good at. Maybe its people they can pick up and read through, a quick and complete vision all consuming in its scrutiny. 

“Through everything- Daseos, the prison break, Bee- I have been on your side.” Ness pleads. “I backed you even when you were wrong. Just this once, I’m saying don’t do it. Hanagi. Please.” 

“You didn’t see what I saw” You snap back. “In those fucking files. I have a duty to the world as a doctor.” The words feel weak and paper thin in the face of Nesseo’s plea, but you believe them with your whole heart. You took an oath to heal, and you can’t pass the horror’s you’ve seen by. It's easier to stay up late, chipping away at hacking and planning and busywork on your computer than to lay in bed staring at the unforgiving darkness of the ceiling as images from Faeria’s Longse’s medical files play on loop just behind your eyes. 

“Fine” They spit out, “Fine!” They say, preparing to bargain. “If you have to do it, fine. But leave Bee and Mondes out of it. They’re not ready for this.”

“Bee and Mondes” You say slowly. “Are grown adults. Who made their own decisions, based on the same information I had. This” You say, “is not about us, Nesseo” You continue gesturing. “It’s about saving countless lives.”

“Well it's us,” They insist, pointing at the cards on the table. “That are gonna get fucked over.” 

You stare down at the spread they keep trying to explain to you, at Nesseo’s vandalized tarot cards that it’s still so hard to take seriously. 

In one motion, you sweep them off the table. 

“Futures not here yet” You declare, storming off. 

.

.

.

.

.

Several hours later, you are sitting at the kitchen table, arms wrapped around your head. When Mondes comes in from his afternoon class, he does so nearly silently. You only notice the slight melodic jingle as he hangs up his keys, the quiet setting down of his bag on the table. He heads straight for the kitchen, probably hungry from a long day of classes. You are certain he notices your distraught demeanor, but he does not comment on it. Instead saying simply and effectively-

“Hi.”

“Hi” You groan, hearing him open up the fridge behind you. Finally, you pull your face out of your arms, squinting in the afternoon light. You had taken off your glasses, it had been more comfortable moping without them, and everything is blurry. 

“I think I was a total bitch to Nesseo this morning” You say. 

“Yeah” Mondes says, washing some vegetables in the sink. “I heard.” 

“Add it to the list of my-” You were going to say crimes, but you feel a sudden wave of shame overtake you, drowning the word. “Are you also mad at me” 

“No.” He says. “But it sure took you a while to ask me that.” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” You say, your fingers finally finding their way to your glasses, which you put on your face.

“That you never ask me that.” He says. 

“Elaborate.” You request. 

Mondes is silent for a long moment, the only sound in the kitchen the quiet thuds of his knife against the cutting board. 

“I miss you, Hanagi,” He says. 

You swivel your chair around to stare at him, processing his statement. 

“You don’t get to fucking- say that!” You stumble, frustrated. “You don’t get to give me the cold shoulder for perigees and then be like ‘I miss you’”

“Well I can,” He says. “And I did. And it’s true.” 

“Fuck you” You retort. There is a silence, as he continues chopping, the two of you both daring each other to be the first to apologize, and your ego crumbles first.

“I’m sorry.” You say. “I put you in a difficult situation. With Bee.” 

“I don’t even give a fuck anymore” He says. “But why. Did we not just, have this conversation sooner, instead of you just, assuming I was still mad, avoiding the subject, for perigees.” 

“I don’t know, you’d just be like, ‘why the fuck did we bring back Bee’ and I wouldn’t know what to say, like what the fuck could I do, kill her again?” You defend. 

“Why didn’t we talk about it,” He pleads. “instead of you having that conversation in your own head and deciding it finished.” He says, turning around, setting down the knife. “I don’t know. I feel like, you act like I’m a lot more angry and demanding of a person, than I actually am.” He accuses. “Talking about shit doesn’t have to be a huge fight. I know that's what you’re used to, " he says. “Everyone in this family comes into any kind of emotional talk with their hackles already raised. I’ve seen it. And I think I understand why. With the whole. Having a sister who was a telepath and a control freak and a manipulator. But it's just exhausting. When anytime things get serious, everyone is already on the defensive the moment a conversation even starts. You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Hanagi.” 

Why pay for a therapist? When everyone around you seems so sure, they know everything that's going on with you already, your thinkpan monologues, instinctively, but you don't say the words out loud, because you’d just be fulfilling his prophecy. 

“I’m sorry” You say. “I’m working on it” 

“I know,” He says, turning back to his cutting board, firing up the stove. “I’m not mad about Bee anymore. I get it more.” 

“Get what?” You ask, you back straightening. 

“That she really was. You know. Sick.” He says. “And I guess she’s tolerable enough now. So I’m over it.” He says, dumping his peppers and onions into the frying pan. 

“Tolerable enough. High praise.” You joke. 

“Don’t tell her I said that” he jokes back. “I like to keep her on her toes.” 

“My lips are sealed.” You say, staring at him, unable to believe that’s it, the problem you had agonized over for months could be so easily tossed aside by him. A knot inside your ribcage you thought would never come loose slips apart so gently and smoothly it almost gives you whiplash, and you feel a little lightheaded. Disoriented, like walking out of a movie theater into the evening light. 

“Yeah I” You say, your voice wavering in the evening light. “I really fucking missed you, too” You admit. 

The moment is almost subtle enough to miss, but you swear his shoulders ease a little too at this declaration. 

“Ness will come around” He says, turning down the burner. 

“You think?” You reply, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Yeah,” He says. “Besides, there aren’t really bad tarot cards.”

“How do you mean?” You ask.

“I’m not, an expert…” He trails off. “But from what little I know about divination, it’s not supposed to be… literal. Death doesn’t just mean someone will die. It means change. It can mean the death of a concept, the passing of time, all kinds of shit.” 

“Could be Faeria dying” You offer. 

“Yeah.” 

“It comforts me” You say. “That you’re not worried. Knowing you’re also like…fucking,  superstitious.” 

“Oh I’m worried.” He says. “It’s just kind of old hat, for me, to be honest. I get ill omens wherever I go and whatever I do. If I died everytime I got a death omen I’d be the worlds most fucked up zombie. Might as well relax and not base every decision I make on that fear.” He rambles. 

“Wh- this happens to you that often?” You say, curious about how casually Mondes refers to such a thing. 

“Sometimes” He says, suddenly mildly abrasive, the word feels like a door stopper putting an end to the middle of the conversation. “You want sauteed veggies?” He asks.

.

.

.

.

.

It can be so comforting how much weight she’s gained, because in moments like these, when the lights are dim and she’s sitting on the bed you share, leafing through papers with a paused quizzical expression, like she’s caught in the tail end of a thought, things look so much like the two of you are back in space again you stiffen. But then you pause, blinking, half awake, only for your breath to ease as you trace the rounder shapes of her cheeks, the comfortable pajama’s she wears, patterned over with isopods, the long cold cup of tea she’s forgotten on the nightstand, pleasures and decadences you would have killed for on that tiny ship. She is the same troll, from the way she dog ears her papers to how she color codes her highlighting, how she sits cross legged and the handwriting in her notes, but in no way is she recognizable as that skeleton that used to haunt you. You sigh, setting down your bag. She gathers up some of her papers, making room for you to sit. 

“Okay” She says. “I also have a weird pitch.” 

“Cryogenics wasn’t weird.” You retort. “It made perfect sense.” 

“Getting Abby,” She says slowly. “And freezing them, so they can’t die in the process of the complex surgery we’ll need to give them to disengage and replace their complicated prosthetics- Arguably weird.” She justifies. 

“It’s the only sensible way to do it” You reply, looking through some of the papers she has about. 

“I know… it’s probably the only way to do it. I just.” She sighs. “It’s weird. To make that decision for Abidel without them knowing. I can’t imagine them saying no. But it feels gross. Not being able to tell them til the literal moment we’re there.” 

“Any communication could put us in jeopardy.” You reply. “But yeah, it sucks and feels like shit.” You concede, sighing. “Like congratulations! You’re free! Now you get to go cryosleep in a lead box until we’re absolutely fucking sure we’ve gotten every single fleet bit out of your body. Not winning any ethics awards for that one. But go on. What’s the new weird pitch?” 

Bee bites her lip, leafing through her papers. 

“Oh, now you’re shy?” You tease, peering over her shoulder. 

“It’s got poetic irony” She says of her plan, before she explains it. 

“I kind of don’t give a shit about poetic irony” You say. “In my heist.” 

“Hear me out-” She begins. “We poison Abidel’s blood.” 

You stare at her. 

“Listen! Not in a way that hurts or kills them. I just. Okay. With The Intoxicant, right? She’s an obsessed megalomaniac. She’s put sweeps of time and fleet funding into this. We free Abby- the only source for the chemical she needs for her pssionic cocaine- she’ll never stop looking for them. Unless. UNLESS.” She pauses to breathe. “Abidel’s blood is unusable. And The Intoxicant, wouldn’t you know it, has a ton of scientific research into how to make people more poisonous.” 

“...I see” You say. “The poetic irony.” 

“Right?”

“I don’t know Bee, it sounds dangerous. And kind of insane.” 

“We ask! We can ask. We can offer, right? If they say no they say no.” She says. 

“I just.” You say, putting your head in your hands. “Fucking, shit, dude. We shouldn’t have to do this shit.” 

“If we can make Abidel useless to Longse” She says. “Then they don’t have to spend the rest of their free life looking over their shoulder.” She says, and then deflates a little, looking back to her paper. “But you know. It’s a weird pitch. We don’t have too. Just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. You said we want backups for our backups for our backups. This is backups upon backups.” 

“It's just kind of deranged” You retort. “Kind of Twitch Demork brained idea. Out of left field, ridiculous, morally questionable, self sacrificing” You rant, standing up and walking back and forth. 

“Yeah, kind of like, unceremonious and unexpected. Like, I don’t know.” She rambles, sarcastically. “Blowing up a prison to lock the security inside it.” 

“Fuck you” You say to the wall. “Fuck you,” you repeat, turning around and walking back over. “Show me what study you’re reading.” You say, snatching the paper from her hands.

[tieronecrush]

HELLO CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE ILY <3

obviously I am sending you a smut prompt 🛍️ this one makes my brain go fuzzy

“can you look at me? please?”

and I would love that with literally any Pedro boy you like but I'm feeling either Dieter (bc this man is observed constantly but rarely ever seen I think) or Frankie (bc he do be beggin)

TYSM HANNY BANANNY ILY TOO BESTIE

the idea of dieter asking to be seen just overcame me when i sat down to write this so it is him <3

dieter bravo x f!reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI - no other warnings on my drabbles

After midnight on this random Saturday night, or technically Sunday morning, you find yourself in the bed of your latest match off of your new dating app — Dieter.

Academy Award-Winning actor Dieter fucking Bravo.

To be fair, you hadn’t seen the film he won for, Hunger Strike, and only saw stuff about his featured role in Cliff Beasts 6 and the documentary that was made out of the behind-the-scenes shitshow that was creating that movie.

To you, it had been a fluke that you’d been accepted onto Raya, the app you’d matched with him through. You garnered a generous amount of Instagram followers for posting your art, and have ended up having an extremely successful career selling your originals and prints. During a wine night with your friends, you’d been drunkenly convinced to apply for an invitation onto the app — one of your friends had been accepted a few months before and had been basically a reference for you. It was all very official, and it had gotten you some pretty good matches: actors, YouTubers, photographers, agents, and more.

This was new for you though — it was normally one dinner or drinks, or heading straight to the hookup. You’d done minimal chatting before all of these meetups, but things were different with Dieter. He’d messaged you first, and you’ve been talking for at least two weeks and FaceTiming while he’s been finishing up filming in Canada.

He was actually kind of…sweet.

There was no pressure in your conversations, and no awkward silences when you FaceTimed. His messages made you laugh, made you smile, even gave you butterflies when he complimented your work or called you “a spectacularly arresting genius.”

And after all of those days and nights spent getting to know each other and exchanging spiraling ideas from your chaotic minds, you have ended up here in his California king with the softest linen sheets you’ve ever felt — currently straddling him after he made you come with his fingers and his mouth.

He fills you up completely when you’re fully seated on his hips, soft whimpers echoing through his massive primary bedroom. His fingertips are gripping tight to your hips, surely leaving bruises under their wake when he moves them to your thighs to give you full mobility of your hips.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re a fucking vision over me right now.”

He sits up, one arm wrapping around your back as a moan of your name leaves his lips at the feeling of you finally starting to ride him, lifting and grinding your hips around his cock. His mouth latches onto one of your breasts, kissing the velvety skin and sucking at your nipple. The pleasure stutters your movements, a gasp projecting from your lungs when Dieter fucks up into you, his slapdash pace shaking your thighs as his hit against you.

“Oh my god, Dieter…” Your breathy call to him is punctuated with a high-pitched whine, your head rolling back and eyes screwed shut. All you can manage to reciprocate is circling your hips while his cock drives hard against your walls, the tip of him nailing that spongy spot in you with every thrust. A vice grip is taut through your forearms and hands, digging your nails into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“Can you look at me? Please?” The sincerity in his tone snaps your head forward and your eyes blink open, finding him less than a foot away from you. Steamy air spills from both of your ajar mouths, the tenderness — no, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The intensity of his stare glues yours to his, the only exchanges besides flashes of pleasure in irises being sultry exhales that you both swallow from the other.

“Tell me how it feels for you, babygirl. Wanna hear your voice, please.”

You struggle at first to find any words for this moment, finally clearing all the jumbled thoughts about him to give you something to say.

“I feel so…connected to you. Hasn’t ever felt like this before. Like, a whole ‘nother level…”

“I feel it too, babygirl. Can’t even describe it, really. You fit me like a puzzle piece — your sweet pussy, your curves against me, even your fucking wildly brilliant brain. Could do this all day and night with you, baby, if it always feels like this.”

“Fuck, Dieter, ‘m close, I-I—”

“Let go, beautiful girl, come for me. Wanna feel you all over me, squeezing me.”

It’s a fall from grace — if you could call what you were doing graceful. Blinding hot pleasure radiates all over your skin, vibrating at every point he is connected to you. His name falls from your lips over and over, even a soft thank you thrown in the midst of your visions of heaven. Dieter was guiding you through the winding orgasm, his own hips continuing to hit up against your thighs before they stutter, his warm release coating your walls and extending your euphoria while you watch him come undone under you.

Chests rise and fall at an exponentially slower rate while you both float down, coming back into your bodies and locking into that same intense eye contact from before. It’s a silent transfer of energy until Dieter breaks the quiet first, his palms skating up your thighs with a trail of goosebumps.

“Is it too soon to ask to see you again?”

[brostateexam]

With her performance as the well-meaning-but-delusional heiress Tanya on The White Lotus, the world is singing, in gorgeous four-part harmony, Coolidge’s long-overdue praise. In September, she won her first-ever Emmy for the role; it was also her first time being nominated. This month, Coolidge won her first Golden Globe as well as her first Critics’ Choice Award. (It was only her second time being nominated for both the awards; all nominations were for her role as Tanya.) She’ll probably — hopefully — win her first Screen Actors Guild Award later next month, and if the Academy knows what’s good for them, they’ll find a loophole and somehow give her an Oscar too. “I just want to say to all the people out there, for anyone that’s sort of given up hope, I hope this gives you inspiration. It’s not over until it’s over,” Coolidge said in her Critics’ Choice Award acceptance speech for Best Supporting Actress in a Drama. “It’s not over till you’re dead.”

Coolidge’s speeches, interviews, eight-second videos, etc., are a wealth of one-liners. While accepting her Emmy for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama, she blamed a lavender bath for making her rush through her speech (“I’m full!”) before doing a little dance to the play-off music. At the Golden Globes, she thanked Mike White, the creator of The White Lotus, saying, “You sort of changed my life in a million different ways. My neighbors are speaking to me. Things like that.” Unfortunately, I cannot find an acceptance speech for her 2005 Teen Choice Award for Best “Movie Sleazebag” for her role as stepmother Fiona Montgomery in A Cinderella Story. In its place, I give you the intro Coolidge once said she would use if she was on the Real Housewives: “If any of you girls say anything cunt-y to me, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

[easypeasylindyvesey]

APRIL 2027- PART 16

He extends his arm with the speech in his hand. “Here,” he says, waving it obnoxiously.

I playfully roll my eyes and get up from the bed, walking over to him and snatching it out of his hand. I open up the top drawer of my nightstand and shove it in there, shutting it closed and sitting back down, looking at him as he starts to open his container. “So? How bad is it, Mr. Harvard?”

He scoffs, reaching into the bag and emerging with a fork. He stabs it into a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. “It’s not bad at all,” he says while chewing.

“You’re lying.”

He swallows before experimenting with the pappardelle. “No, Abby, I’m not,” he says sternly. “I think it’s very heartfelt. I can tell you’ve always had those feelings about him, and you just want others to know about it, too. You’re able to connect the experiences with emotions. Not everyone has that strength. I don’t think you did a good job, yeah, no. I think you excelled. If I were your professor, fuck a number grade. I’m giving you 100 gold stars. Seriously. I really think you should speak. Even if you cut the speech in half, you don’t want to be left wondering how it could’ve turned out if you had decided to do that one thing that scared you.”

You don’t want to be left wondering how it could’ve turned out if you had decided to do that one thing that scared you. Wow.

I rest my chin in my right hand, looking at him with slouched eyes. “All right, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Hey, by no means am I trying to pressure you. I’m just letting you know that you only get one chance to speak on behalf of Ryan, and if you’re presented with the chance, I think you should take it. You’ve always been a go-getter. I would hate to see you lose that spark over something like this.”

“No, no, you’re right,” I retort. “I’ll just go first and get it over with, otherwise we’ll be there all day. How long even is a funeral?”

“It’s only about an hour, maybe longer depending on how many people speak,” Jimmy answers. “But yeah, if you wanna go first, then I think that’d be best. Set the tone.”

“For what, exactly?” I question. “It’s not like I’m winning the Academy Award for best funeral speech. Everyone’s just gonna say the same shit. They’re practically recycling what the previous person said, but instead, they’re gonna make it all about themselves.”

Jimmy sighs. “I can assure you they won’t. We’ll just have to wait and see, okay?”

“Guess so,” I mutter, moving my focus back to dinner. The sun’s already gone down, the only light in the room illuminating from the lamp on both our nightstands and the streetlight. We watch TV, mostly in silence, but I can’t help but sense tension in the air. I just feel he’s already over this. Over me.

We speak briefly about the food and who’s planning on driving tomorrow. I agreed to do it because I feel that I should give him a break. I have to remind myself that I’m not the only one that needs it. We throw the plastic containers into the trash and take turns brushing our teeth. I reach over to the other nightstand and grab the remote to turn off the TV. The lamps remain on, both of us crawling into bed, not even daring to jeopardize the stillness. I reach for my phone and set an alarm for 9:00am before flipping it over before turning off the light as I sink into the mattress with the thick duvet swallowing me whole.

I hear Jimmy turn his lamp off and shift around before stilling on the right side of his bed. He releases a quick yawn before I hear a thud, assuming that’s his head hitting the pillow. “Good night,” he vocalizes into the dark room. Oh, dear God, that’s scary.

“Night,” I mumble. Before I can even begin to drift off, I realize that my glasses are still on my face. I remove them and fling them on the nightstand. They fall off the edge, but I really don’t care. As long as they don’t break, I’m fine. I stare at the empty half of my bed. I have to remember that he’s literally here, in the same room, breathing the same air, awaiting the same daunting challenge in the coming hours. Don’t worry, I’m not going to wake him up. The pretty little prince needs his sleep, too. If he doesn’t snore, then I won’t have any more of a reason to kill him.

[husbandhoshi]

bff to lovers with seokmin where you purposely grind back into his crotch to make him hard while your spooning during movie night leading to making out on his lap while giving him a hand job

can i be 🫂 anon pls hehe

tags: friends to lovers, mutual masturbation (kind of), cock worship (kind of), dry humping (kind of), wonwoo being a nerd, there is no spooning (sorry), porn mention

wc: 2k

[part 1.5] [part 2]

it's almost funny.

you wish it were funny—in fact, you'd give anything to be laughing right now.

instead, you contend with the incredibly awkward silence, punctuated by the sound of you rifling around in the popcorn bowl and seokmin's nervous, quiet laughter.

"did wonwoo say this movie had a sex scene?" you ask, lightly nudging seokmin in the ribs in futile hopes of lightening the atmosphere. the light of the screen makes his eyes glow; you're able to admire him even as you both try to emotionally recover from seeing not only full frontal nudity but also what could generously be labeled as the most artsy, beautifully lit porn you have ever seen.

right next to your best friend.

and normally, it would be funny. if you were with chan or soonyoung or minghao or literally anyone else, you know you would be laughing. instead, you're shifting around on the couch, shorts feeling a little too short, panties a little too damp, and eyes wandering a little too close to the drawstrings of seokmin's grey sweatpants.

"n-no, he didn't," seokmin laughs. "leave it up to wonwoo to watch arthouse porn with an hour long introduction." and then he pouts so you laugh, because you always laugh when he pouts, except for some reason you're feeling embarrassingly horny and the hug of seokmin's shirt to his broad chest isn't really helping your situation. when did he get so buff again?

on the couch, you're pressed together, shoulders flush and legs tangled together. it was so comfortable until it wasn't, and now your body feels all too hot, and you wonder if he can feel it radiating off of you.

"well, seokmin, it won an academy award, okay?" you tease, rolling your eyes playfully. you bump your foot against his sock-clad one.

he returns your smile, his goofy and charming. "i dunno, i think he picked the wrong crowd to recommend movies to." and seokmin's right, the both of you watch zootopia every month and enjoy cinema in the form of cat videos and vine compilations.

you notice his cheeks are flushed, but you can't tell if it's the over-saturated light of the movie (which neither of you are paying attention to, even though the sex scene is long over) or if he's feeling as warm and sticky as you. perhaps it's the awkwardness that's permeated the space between the two of you, tender like a bruise.

"i-i'm going to refill the popcorn," you say.

maybe a cold drink of water will make you feel more normal.

"oh, i'll pause it for you." ever sweet seokmin, who thinks you're still watching the movie, begins reaching for the remote.

you attempt to disentangle yourself from his limbs, but the combination of both of you trying to move results in a disastrous tumble back onto the couch, where your hand ends up brushing up against seokmin's crotch.

not only his crotch, but directly over the hardness under the cotton, and you can positively feel all the blood rushing away from your brain, where you need it most.

and then, as if to seal your fate, seokmin wrenches his eyes shut and utters the most guttural fuck you have ever heard. you think your pussy actually starts aching with how turned on you are.

"s-sorry! oh my god," seokmin stammers, chest heaving with another shaky breath. but his hips cant up to meet your hand so desperately, like he's been wanting this to happen the whole time.

seokmin, your best friend in the whole wide world, seokmin who had taught you to ride a bike, who asked you to prom when your crush didn't, who texts you good night and knows all your darkest secrets (well, almost all of them).

seokmin, who you've had a crush on for god knows how long, is hot and hard under your hands and wrapped around your finger.

"i—i can help," you finally say. you lift your hand from his lap, the realization of what's happening finally sinking in. "only...only if you want."

and, unlike anything you've ever pictured in your wildest dreams, seokmin wraps his hand (much larger than yours) around your wrist and drags your palm down on his hardness once again.

"yes, yes p-please—" and when you press down just the slightest, his eyes flutter shut. his thighs are spread wide open and his mouth hangs open in a silent moan.

you've never wanted to ravish anyone this bad in your life before.

god, he must be big, you think, and just to test your hypothesis, your pretty fingers search for the shape of his length through the layers of fabric.

"fuck," seokmin whines. "just take it all off." and you, horny and scatter-brained, fumble with the waistband long enough for him to come to. "is this ok? are you ok with this? you're my best friend and—" he sucks in a deep breath as you yank his sweats down to his knees. "—and i don't wanna, wanna ruin our friendship."

"you idiot." the pet name, usually familiar, makes seokmin keen, hips searching for your hand again. "i've always liked you." then a tug of his boxers to reveal his cock, hard and heavy.

you almost moan aloud when your hand wraps around it, fuck, he is big, and you so badly want to to lick off the pearl of precum at the tip. he whimpers at the mere contact, overwhelmed by your sudden confession and the way your thumb is now stroking the underside of his cock.

"a-always?" seokmin groans loudly when your hand dips down to the base of his dick and you trace a prominent vein with a careful fingertip. "f-fuck, how—how're you so good at this?"

"seokmin, it's always been you." you swipe a thumb over his swollen head, then bring the digit to your lips. seokmin's eyes widen as your lips close around your finger—god, you have no idea how many times he's dreamed of this day—and then wrench shut once again when you pump his thick length once more. "not mingyu from bio—" you twist your wrist for some added friction, and seokmin moans so loud, so prettily. "not seungkwan the barista—" a thumb over the head to spread the rest of the precum over his heated skin. "just you."

seokmin takes yet another shaky breath and places a gentle hand over your wrist, shuddering when you tighten your grip on his cock slightly. "n-not even vernon?"

you shake your head and you don't even need to move your hand at all for seokmin to whine airily again, needy hips stuttering into your fist.

"fuck, f-fuck," he groans. "should've said something earlier. years ago."

you start stroking him again, petting that spot on the ridge of his cockhead that makes him throw his head back and moan.

"a-always," he breathes. "always thought you liked someone else." you trail your fingertips up his length just to see him shudder in pleasure again.

it fills you with a certain possessiveness, the knowledge that you know his heart, all his ins and outs, and now he's letting you map his body out, every inch, with your hands. you push up the hem of his sweatshirt to skim your fingers over his hard abs, watching his now neglected cock twitch at the mere contact.

"no time better than the present," you reply coyly. "now lemme make you feel good."

you kiss his belly button, and he cracks a teary-eyed, tender smile.

"can i touch you?" he asks, but it comes out like a beg. you're about to shush him and give him the best orgasm of his life when he puts his own hand, warm and desperate, on your inner thigh. "please?"

it's daring and reminds you of how much he wants you. you recall the time he zipped up your prom dress, fingers unsteady, or the times you've showered at his place and forgotten a towel, resulting in seokmin running in, white towel wrapped around one hand and the other poorly shielding his curious, wandering eyes. the reverent breath he always takes when you ask him to hold down your shirt so you can take off your hoodie.

"f-fuck," you stammer. "yeah, yeah, go ahead."

your hand, stroking his dick, falters when his fingers prod at your cunt through your shorts, and an unexplainable feeling floods through your body as you realize you've soaked all the way through your panties, leaving a wet spot on your shorts.

"this," seokmin pants, "this wet for me?" he roughly presses against your pussy lips, searching for your clit. "fuck, fuck—" he positively whines when your hips kick up, and you realize your panties are definitely swimming in your arousal.

you can tell seokmin's close by the way he's now fucking into your fist and blindly rubbing the wet spot over your shorts, not lucid enough to think to pull them down. but it doesn't even matter, you're spreading your legs like some whore and slowly grinding against his thick fingers. you know his eyes are burning holes into you, memorizing how your lips part in a moan, how light, gaspy you become when he hits your clit just right.

even over the fabric, it feels so good, so much better than your own hand when you were thinking about seokmin.

"r-remind me to eat you out," seokmin moans. "god, i wanna make you cum so many times. a-already look so good fucked out like this."

your eyes almost roll to the back of your head when he says that. when the fuck did he get such a filthy mouth, but you realize you're not much better given the way he's falling apart so easily in your hand.

"next week?"

"h-how's tomorrow? when soonyoung's gonna be at his girlfriend's place," you ask, and you look over at him to see his head thrown back, wet lips in an "o".

"yeah, fuck. please."

he's so close to his high; you've already discovered he loves when you jack him off at the base and when you twist your wrist just like that. you wonder how he'd feel in your guts, in your mouth. what he'll look like under you.

but you settle for the euphoria you're feeling now. with the eager presses of his palm to your cunt, you're not far off either.

"nngh, seokmin, i—i'm close." you gasp, arching your back against the couch cushions. you place your free hand over his to guide it over where your clit would be; another rut of his palm to your cunt, and you're there, hole fluttering around nothing as you feel all the warmth soak through your underwear.

you wouldn't normally cum so fast or so loudly, but seokmin fucking your hand and whining your name certainly wasn't part of the plan, and it just takes a couple of wanton moans on your part to push seokmin over the edge too, fat cock bucking into your hand like he's never been touched before.

"god, oh fuck," he hiccups as you help him ride out his orgasm, cum sputtering onto his pretty abs. another day, you tell yourself, instead cleaning him up with some napkins from the takeout you got earlier. "you're incredible. fuck. i think i love you."

you kiss his nose, capturing his cheeks between your fingers to bring his face, still flushed, to yours. "i think i love you too," you say, and he smiles. it's ecstatic, beautiful, as you kiss his nose again.

"what the fuck are we gonna tell wonwoo about the movie?" seokmin groans, finally noticing the credits rolling in the background. "and when's soonyoung coming back?"

"please shut up and let me kiss you."

and he gladly does, and you kiss and kiss and kiss because you're best friends and you're in love and nothing, nothing else has ever felt so, so right.

[junikicker]

She's Kina Hot Though - Jessica Chastain x fem!reader

She's Kinda Hot Though - Jessica Chastain x fem!reader

pairing: Jessica Chastain x fem!reader

warnings: light smut

summary: read to find out

word count: 1.1k

Day one on set was a bliss. You were happy to finally do a movie with your long-time friend Diane Kruger and you had all day to catch up since there weren’t many scenes filmed. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable when you were young.

You knew all the people you were working with. Well knew would be too much. You knew their work. But you knew that you were working with the elite of Hollywood: Academy Award winners Penélope Cruz, Jessica Chastain, and Lupita Nyong’o and screen legends including Sebastian Stan and Fan Bingbing. You felt a little small compared to them if you were frank.

You had been in the business for about one and a half decades but you were nothing close to being as famous as them.

Once you were done on set, you decided to get dinner as a group, so here you were, seven Hollywood actors having dinner at a Chinese Takeout place in L.A., laughing and telling stories about yourselves.

After some time you found yourself gazing at the ginger seated next to you. You noticed her right away when you first met her at a screen test for the movie but hadn’t seen her since, she crossed your mind every now and then since that day.

She was mesmerizing. Her eyes, her hair, her nose. She was perfect from head to toe. Her laughs were sweet and adorable and the way she scrunched her nose while laughing was everything for you. You had known her for what one day? Two if you count the screen test?

She laughed again and this time she made contact with your thigh for a spit second and your breath hitched. Diane gently nudged you from the other side and gave you a knowing smirk. Even after all these years she still knew exactly how to read you.

The next day on set, Diane teased you whenever she could. “Da hat aber jemand nen Crush,” (Seems like someone’s got a crush) she sang as you picked her up to head to set together that morning. “Halt doch die Klappe.” (Shut up.) You immediately replied. “Auf keinen Fall. Das ist einfach zu gut.” (Ain’t happening. It’s just too good.) she replied, an amused smile on her face, at which you hit her arm, shutting her up effectively. “Sie ist aber schon heiß” (She’s kinda hot though) You admit and Diane gives you a content smirk.

Over the next few weeks, you and Jessica had gotten closer, having lunch together regularly and practicing your lines with each other. She gave you a ton of advice and you were very grateful for that.

This evening, you were at your place, practicing lines. You had heated up some leftover food and finished the night with a glass of wine and the movie in the living room. The two of you shared a blanket, you were a little tense because you were so close to her physically but she didn’t seem to have noticed.

At some point, she shifted her position and moved even closer to you. You didn’t know what came over you but you decided to at least try something and you carefully put your arm around the ginger’s shoulder.

You could smell her flowery perfume and feel her hair tickling your arm. If you weren’t alive right now, you would have thought you were in heaven.

You suddenly couldn’t focus on the movie anymore, your attention on her and only her. You took in each and every one of her movements as you watched her eyes follow the scene on the flatscreen.

“Staring is rude, you know.” She said and you had blushed, having thought she didn’t notice you staring. “I’m not staring, love, I’m admiring.” You flirted back and she chuckled cutely.

And then it felt like slow motion and timelapse at once. You leaned in, she did the same, your lips met and it felt like a firework going off. She gently cupped your cheek with her delicate fingers and pulled you closer. You gently swept your tongue across her bottom lip, asking for entrance and within a second your tongue was invading her mouth as she began to tug at your hair.

Your hands slipped under her black shirt and she gasped as your hands made contact with her porcelain skin. You gently caressed the skin of her stomach with your hands as you moved your mouth from her lips to her neck. She tilted her head in response, giving you more access. You left a mark barely below her ear and you knew you were going to get shit for it later but you couldn’t care less.

Jessica tugged at your grey crew-neck and you pulled away for a split second, taking it off along with the tee you were wearing underneath, revealing a red lace bra. You weren’t intentionally wearing it, it was just the one you had picked for the day.

You sat on Jessica’s lap, her hands were now on your hips, as your hands found their way into her hair, smashing your lips to hers again. This feeling was heavenly.

The ginger’s delicate fingers were now gently caressing the skin barely underneath your bra and you gasped at the contact, allowing the other woman to slip her tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss when her hands finally found your breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze.

Oh, how many times you had imagined this moment and here you were all at her mercy, trembling at her touch. You tugged at her sweater and it come off just as easy as yours had just moments ago. Jessica was wearing only a bra underneath her sweater and you both moaned at the skin-on-skin contact that you got as the sweater left the picture.

This was such an incredibly passionate and intimate moment. You both took the time to explore each other, careful to be moving too fast and scaring the other. There were hot gasps and moans echoing through the walls as she lowered herself between your legs and sent you into a state of pure ecstasy while your hand was in her hair, holding her as close as anyway possible before the two of you switched places and you made her feel insane pleasure.

“Damn, Y/l/n. Damn.” Jessica breathed out as you fell down next to her on the sofa. After that, the two of you started giggling.

[liberalsarecool]

Final word on Smith/Rock

From Kareem Abdul-Jabbar:

When Will Smith stormed onto the Oscar stage to strike Chris Rock for making a joke about his wife’s short hair, he did a lot more damage than just to Rock’s face. With a single petulant blow, he advocated violence, diminished women, insulted the entertainment industry, and perpetuated stereotypes about the Black community.

That’s a lot to unpack. Let’s start with the facts: Rock made a reference to Smith’s wife, Jada Pinkett Smith, as looking like Demi Moore in GI Jane, in which Moore had shaved her head. Jada Pinkett Smith suffers from alopecia, which causes hair loss. Ok, I can see where the Smiths might not have found that joke funny. But Hollywood awards shows are traditionally a venue where much worse things have been said about celebrities as a means of downplaying the fact that it’s basically a gathering of multimillionaires giving each other awards to boost business so they can make even more money.

The Smiths could have reacted by politely laughing along with the joke or by glowering angrily at Rock. Instead, Smith felt the need to get up in front of his industry peers and millions of people around the world, hit another man, then return to his seat to bellow: “Keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth.” Twice.

Some have romanticized Smith’s actions as that of a loving husband defending his wife. Comedian Tiffany Haddish, who starred in the movie Girls Trip with Pinkett Smith, praised Smith’s actions: “[F]or me, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen because it made me believe that there are still men out there that love and care about their women, their wives.”

Actually, it was the opposite. Smith’s slap was also a slap to women. If Rock had physically attacked Pinkett Smith, Smith’s intervention would have been welcome. Or if he’d remained in his seat and yelled his post-slap threat, that would have been unnecessary, but understandable. But by hitting Rock, he announced that his wife was incapable of defending herself—against words. From everything I’d seen of Pinkett Smith over the years, she’s a very capable, tough, smart woman who can single-handedly take on a lame joke at the Academy Awards show.

This patronizing, paternal attitude infantilizes women and reduces them to helpless damsels needing a Big Strong Man to defend their honor least they swoon from the vapors. If he was really doing it for his wife, and not his own need to prove himself, he might have thought about the negative attention this brought on them, much harsher than the benign joke. That would have been truly defending and respecting her. This “women need men to defend them” is the same justification currently being proclaimed by conservatives passing laws to restrict abortion and the LGBTQ+ community.

Worse than the slap was Smith’s tearful, self-serving acceptance speech in which he rambled on about all the women in the movie King Richard that he’s protected. Those who protect don’t brag about it in front of 15 million people. They just do it and shut up. You don’t do it as a movie promotion claiming how you’re like the character you just won an award portraying. But, of course, the speech was about justifying his violence. Apparently, so many people need Smith’s protection that occasionally it gets too much and someone needs to be smacked.

What is the legacy of Smith’s violence? He’s brought back the Toxic Bro ideal of embracing Kobra Kai teachings of “might makes right” and “talk is for losers.” Let’s not forget that this macho John Wayne philosophy was expressed in two movies in which Wayne spanked grown women to teach them a lesson. Young boys��especially Black boys—watching their movie idol not just hit another man over a joke, but then justify it as him being a superhero-like protector, are now much more prone to follow in his childish footsteps. Perhaps the saddest confirmation of this is the tweet from Smith’s child Jaden: “And That’s How We Do It.”

The Black community also takes a direct hit from Smith. One of the main talking points from those supporting the systemic racism in America is characterizing Blacks as more prone to violence and less able to control their emotions. Smith just gave comfort to the enemy by providing them with the perfect optics they were dreaming of. Many will be reinvigorated to continue their campaign to marginalize African Americans and others through voter suppression campaign.

As for the damage to show business, Smith’s violence is an implied threat to all comedians who now have to worry that an edgy or insulting joke might be met with violence. Good thing Don Rickles, Bill Burr, or Ricky Gervais weren’t there. As comedian Kathy Griffin tweeted: “Now we all have to worry about who wants to be the next Will Smith in comedy clubs and theaters.”

The one bright note is that Chris Rock, clearly stunned, managed to handle the moment with grace and maturity. If only Smith’s acceptance speech had shown similar grace and maturity—and included, instead of self-aggrandizing excuses, a heartfelt apology to Rock.

💯

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

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

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

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

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[mrs-march-ahs]

how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them? 

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

--

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

 Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and  talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?”, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise  @amourtentiaa  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @tatesimper  @thxc0untessesgl0ve  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan  @kitwalkerangel  @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt  @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid  @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[let-me-write-shit]

Could u do one w famous!reader (singer and actress) and she’s Brazilian and they met at late late show or idk some other talk show?? Thank u love ur writing

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, @lebortoletto, and sorry it took so long! Hope you like it!! 

Word Count: 4,746

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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The Late Late Show

Y/N always loved coming on James Corden’s ‘The Late Late Show’. His team was always super organized and kind, and James sometimes treated his guests with a meal at a restaurant after the taping since it was usually filmed during dinnertime, and they always had a lot of fun on-set. James was one of the few television hosts whom Y/N would consider a friend.

Of course, being an actress provided Y/N an opportunity to meet and make friends with hundreds of other celebrities, and she considered herself to be amongst nearly all groups of celebrity friendships, but there were some more notable people which she hadn’t had the pleasure to meet, yet. One being Harry Styles.

She’d wanted to meet him since the days of One Direction, but their paths somehow never crossed, which was odd considering nearly all of her friends were mutuals with him. They followed each other on Instagram and Twitter, and would occasionally like the other’s pictures or tweets, but that was about as far as it went. She didn’t have the courage to message him. But that ended today. Both of them would be appearing on his show together.

She and her team arrived early, being escorted to a private room. Most of her team went to the main backstage room while Y/N got her hair and makeup done in her private room. There was still some time left to spare by the time they were finished, and Y/N, along with her PR person, decided to greet everyone backstage and have a quick snack before she changed clothes. She bumped into Reggie and a few other members of James’ team on the way back, smiling and chatting with them while they walked down the hall. As soon as she entered the room, she heard her name called out.

“Y/N! Hello!”

Y/N turned her head in the direction of the voice and smiled when she saw James Corden in the middle of a conversation with Harry Styles and someone else she hadn’t recognized, presumably on his team. She made her way over, noticing Harry holding a small, half-eaten sandwich, and trying to keep her composure.

“Hello, so good to see you again,” Y/N grinned, taking Jame’s hand and pecking him on each cheek before turning to Harry, heart pounding, “Hi, how are you? I’m Y/N.”

“Good, thanks, I’m Harry,” his voice was deep and muffled, trying to introduce himself with a mouth full of sandwich. He leaned in for a one-arm hug and pecked either side of her face. Once they pulled apart he had dramatically swallowed his food and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry,” he chuckled, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“We were just talking about you,” James interrupted.

Your expression changed to one of surprise before Harry chimed in, holding a finger up and nodding, “Yeah, I’m a big fan. Salacity was incredible.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Y/N blushed, looking between the two of them, “Well, I’m obviously a fan, too. Who isn’t?”

“Obviously, you mean me,” James joked, flicking his imaginary hair back.

The two laughed while Y/N nodded, “Obviously.”

Y/N continued on, asking James about his family, and attempted to remain calm while Harry’s overwhelming presence barely a foot beside her lingered. She could feel the warmth radiate from his side, fighting the urge not to look over at him every five seconds, though she couldn’t help but feel his eyes occasionally glance her way.

Since James was so close with both Harry and Y/N, it seemed to be easy to hold a conversation. But when James was ushered away by the crew to start prep and begin filming for his show, it left Harry and Y/N an opportunity to talk. They still had a bit before they would be called out.

“So, I heard you’ll be in the new Marvel film,” Harry turned to her.

Y/N’s mouth fell open, smirking unsurely. That news hasn’t been released yet, and as far as she was aware, not even her biggest fans knew about it. “How did you hear that?”

He grinned, looking down and then back up at her, “Uh, Alexa may have mentioned it.”

“Alexa Chung,” Y/N repeated, rolling her eyes with a smirk. Alexa Chung was a supermodel and one of Y/N’s closest friends. She shook her head, muttering, “I knew she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Yeah, I mean the contract is still under negotiation, but it’s looking good.”

Harry smiled, “Congratulations. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Can’t wait to see it in theatres.”

“Thank you,” Y/N nodded.

Soon they were joined with more people from the crew of The Late Late Show, as well as more people from their own team as they were told the order of operations and how things were going to run tonight. James had a few segments he had to do on his own before interviewing the two of them, then on to a game, and a small break before Harry would perform.

They listened, intently, a handful of m&m’s in her hands. She noticed Harry shifting in her peripheral and when she turned to see what he was doing, he was already looking at her, pointing at her hands and mouthing, ‘throw me one’. Y/N giggled, picking up a red chocolate candy and scanning the circle of people to make sure no one was staring at her before quickly flicking it across the circle. Harry jerked to the left, trying to catch it in his mouth, but it just bounced off of his chin and to the floor. Only one girl seemed to notice and chuckled.

Harry turned to her, mouth ajar and brows scrunched up, pretending to be indignant and mouthing, “What was that?”

“Another,” Y/N mouthed, grabbing a blue one, this time. Once again, she scanned the circle and chucked the m&m higher.

This time, Harry hardly had to move. He opened his mouth and caught it, smiling and chewing on the candy. “Nice throw,” he nodded, approvingly.

After the meeting, Y/N’s Publicist urged her back towards her private room so she could get changed. She slipped into a sexy red pantsuit that plunged down her neckline and flared at the wrists and ankles, pairing it with a pair of matching red high-heels. Again, she made her way backstage where Harry was, talking to some more people, and when they both saw each other they froze, eyes widened for a moment before their smiles turned into laughter.

He made his way over, now wearing a white button-up underneath his red suit and matching red pressed pants and red shoes. “You copied me!”

Y/N shook her head playfully, joking, “We should swap our suits mid-show and see if anyone notices.”

Harry laughed, “Yes! I can wear yours for the performance!”

The two were greeted by another crew member and led to the side of the stage where they had to remain silent. They looked at each other and back to their crew, silently shimmying and to the sound of James’ voice before their names were called and an eruption of screams and claps echoed through the air from the live studio audience.

Harry let Y/N walk out first and followed her towards the stage as they smiled and waved to the crowd before stepping up on the platform to greet James with a friendly hug and peck on the cheek, sitting side-by-side on the couch.

When the cheers died down, James turned to the two with a grin and said, “It’s great to have both of you back on the show. What is this?” he motioned towards their outfits, laughing, “You’re wearing the same outfit! Did you plan this?”

They both laughed and Harry joked, “Yeah, I rang her and asked what she was wearing and went out and bought the same exact thing.”

“I wanted to give you a heads up so you could match us, too, but Harry told me not to because you would outshine us,” Y/N played along, making James belly-laugh along with the audience.

“I was this close to being upset with you both for not including me,” James laughed, settling down, “You two have never actually met before, have you?”

“No,” they both shook their heads, looking at each other for a second with a smile, “First time.”

“That’s surprising because you both seem to have a lot of the same friends.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, we seem to run in the same circles, but never at the same time.”

“I think he was just avoiding me, really,” Y/N nodded, making the boys laugh.

Harry chuckled, “yeah, I see her at a party and I duck behind the trash cans,” he did his best impersonation.

James laughed, turning towards Y/N, “You must have been partying a lot this past weekend after your big win.” Y/N smiled widely while the audience, along with Harry, clapped loudly. Cheers, again, echoing from the crowd. James continued, “You’re new movie, Salacity, was nominated for a bunch of awards, but you made history as the first Brazilian to win an Academy Award for Best Actress. What was that like?”

Cheers erupted again and Y/N bit her lip, nodding and looking up at everyone. This never got old. “Thank you,” Y/N grinned, turning back towards James, “Honestly, I think I blacked out when they called my name.” Everyone laughed as she continued, “It was so surreal. I’ve always dreamt of winning an Academy Award but never thought in a million years that I would be the first Brazilian to win. I’m incredibly proud and grateful and just so honored to even be in the same room as all of those talented people. I’m very lucky.”

“Well you deserved every bit of it,” James nodded, earning a voice of agreement along with more cheers from the audience, “Salacity was also nominated for Best Original Song, which was written and sung by you, is that right?”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, Harry’s not the only talented musician here.”

Both of them laughed as jokingly threw his hands up, stood, and pretended to walk off set. When he plopped back on the couch he said, “First you steal my outfit, then you steal my job?”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll let you open for my next tour,” she joked back.

She felt silly for being so nervous when she woke up this morning. Truth is, this is one of the easiest interviews she’s done. Normally she struggled for the right words to say or with getting a feel on whether she needed to be more professional or if she could let her silly flag fly. Because she knew James so well and got along with Harry so quickly, it made things a lot easier.

They discussed Harry’s career for a bit before circling back to Y/N as James said, “Now, we had your counterpart, KJ Appa, on our show last week. Such a nice guy, by the way.”

“So sweet,” Y/N nodded in agreement as James continued.

“And he had nothing but good things to say about you. He even said that you were one of the best on-screen kisses he’s had” James admitted, making the audience awe as Y/N blushed and smiled. James carried on, “But he did mention a particularly….awkward moment between the two of you on set. Care to elaborate?”

When Y/N’s eyes widened and shifted in her seat in embarrassment, James laughed. She looked at Harry beside her to see him curious and she began to explain, “Well, as you know, Salacity is a very, uhm, how do you put it?”

“Erotic?” James offered, laughing again.

Y/N nodded, chuckling, “Yes, there’s a lot of sex scenes. So, anyway one the very first sex scene we filmed, I’m in this sexy, lacey black lingerie, basically strapped onto this harness contraption in the air and KJ’s character has to come in from behind me, but the harness that was holding my arms snapped, tore off my bra, and I was dangling by my legs upside down with hundreds of crew members watching. And KJ, the sweet guy he is, sees that my bra came off and panicked, and he jumped in, practically hugging me as I was hanging upside down to cover me. But he didn’t realize that the only thing he was wearing was this sock that covered his dick because we were just about to film this sex scene, and it was all up in my face.”

Everyone burst into laughter as Y/N explained, “That poor guy was just trying to help, but they got me down pretty quickly. But it definitely lessened the tension for the rest of filming. We got closer after that.”

“Can’t get much closer than that, can you?” Harry joked, making her laugh, as well.

When that portion of the interview had finished, cameras cut and their team had rushed over to do a few quick makeup and hair touch-ups, laughing and joking with each other about how well it was going so far. They were then directed towards a different area of the stage, sat around a table with rancid smells lingering around.

“Have you ever done this before?” Harry asked her as they were getting re-wired and James was getting prepped.

Y/N shook her head, pushing her hair behind her back and screwing up her face, “No, and I might vomit just looking at all this stuff.”

Harry nodded, “I’ve got an extra toothbrush you can have afterward.”

James came back and they were given two minutes to get situated before the cameras focused in on them. Reggie and the band played the theme song of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts, while Y/N rang her fingers and Harry looked between her and James. Cheers and claps sounded and James smiled teasingly at the two.

“You both look thrilled to be doing this,” he said, sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah, can’t wait,” Harry retorted.

Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head, “I must have been out of my mind when I agreed to this.”

They laughed as James directed their attention to the table, spinning it, “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here. We’ve got 1,000-year-old egg, Fish eye and bird saliva, cow tongue, salmon smoothie, cow blood and pork tongue jelly, bull penis, hot dog water, which is the absolute rankest thing I’ve ever had, and giant water scorpion.”

“Why?” Y/N groaned, sitting back in her chair in disgust.

Harry chuckled and James laughed as he explained, “So here’s how this game works. We are gonna ask each other questions, okay. The questions are written here and we have not seen them. We have a choice. We can either answer these questions truthfully, or, we have to eat the food that the other person chooses. Okay?” Harry and Y/N nodded in understanding. “Alright, ladies first. Y/N, you are going to choose a food for Harry that he has to eat, should he not answer the question.”

She glanced and spun the tabletop in search of food, bending down and taking a whiff of something awful, she gagged, making them laugh, turning the tabletop until something was placed in front of him, “I’ll go with the fish eye and bird saliva.”

“That’s the one I was least looking forward to,” Harry groaned.

“Were you looking forward to any of them?” James shot back, laughing. “Alright, Y/N, what is your question for Harry.”

Y/N turned her card over in her hands and scanned it before chuckling, blushing, and looking up at him, “Harry, backstage you mentioned you were a big fan of my new movie. How much of it had to do with my sex scene, and what did you think about it?”

“Which one?” he joked, smiling, making everyone in the audience gasp and giggle.

Harry blushed, straightening out his suit, a lopsided, shy smile still stretched on his face, “Uh...I mean, even without the sex scenes it’s a brilliant movie. But, uh, yeah. They were very….Oh god,” he slapped a hand on his forehead, looking down and making the audience laugh. Y/N shook her head in amusement as he attempted to regain composure, “Yeah, they were very realistic.”

“How many times did you rewind those scenes?” James teased.

“No, no, no, that wasn’t the question. It’s my turn now,” Harry waved his finger, making everyone laugh again as the band played and Harry spun the table. “James, I’m going to give you….well, I know how much you love hot dogs, so I’m gonna give you the hot dog water.”

“You dick,” James groaned, taking a sniff and gagging, “That really, truly is the worst thing we’ve ever had on this show. Alright, then, what’s my question?”

Harry picked up the card and grinned, “James, you have had a lot of big-name celebrities on your show. Who was the biggest disappointment?”

The crowd ooed as James’ face fell, shaking his head and looking back at the producers, “Who wrote these?”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy, answer it,” Y/N joked, making everyone laugh.

James shook his head, “I can’t. I can’t,” and he picked up the shot glass and tipped it into his mouth.

Everyone gasped and he immediately reached for the bucket and spit it all out, “That is horrible!” he exclaimed, rinsing his mouth out with water, “Why do we still have that? Alright, Y/N, I am going to pick for you….” he spun the table around before grinning and halting a pink, meaty cube in front of her, “Cow blood and pork tongue jelly.”

Y/N winced, poking at the large cube and gasping, “Oh my god, why is it so hard?”

“That’s what she said,” Harry chimed, making everyone laugh.

“We all know how you feel about my movie, Harry,” shot back, making everyone burst into laughter and Harry blush.

Harry hit his face for a second before James continued, snorting, and looking up at Y/N, “Y/N, you’ve been rumored to have very famous exes. Between Timothee Chalamet, Robert Pattinson, and Taylor Zakhar Perez, rank them from best to worst in bed,” Y/N’s mouth fell as the audience gasped and laughed.

“Pattinson’s gotta be the best, hasn’t he?” Harry assumed, making Y/N hide her face.

“Now, this is not to say that any of them are bad. Maybe they're in the top three,” James suggested, “But of the top three, who is the worst,” he laughed.

Y/N uncovered her face and looked between the two men, reaching for her fork and knife.

“Oh god,” Harry winced, as James shouted, “No! No!”

She dug her fork in and sliced a corner off, “I never kiss and tell,” placing her knife down and taking a deep breath before hurriedly putting it in her mouth. The texture was what she imagined dog food tasted like, and she gagged, grabbing her tin can and spitting it in before swishing her water around in her mouth and spitting that out, as well.

“That was disgusting,” Y/N blotted her mouth with the towel.

“I can’t believe you’ve done that,” James shook his head.

“And I’m not doing it again,” she took another sip of her drink, “Is it my turn now?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you go ahead and choose something for Harry to eat if he doesn’t answer the question.”

She spun until she landed on the 1,000 year old egg. James announced what it was as Harry nodded and said, “Alright”. Y/N picked her card, turned it around, and said, “Oh, no.”

“Oh, God, what is it?” Harry sat up straighter.

“Harry,” Y/N started, “You and Niall are the only remaining members of One Direction who are not parents. Rank the members of One Direction from worst to best parents.”

Without hesitation, Harry stabbed his fork into the egg and shoved it in his mouth. Everyone gasped and Y/N pulled away, covering her face with the card and using it as a sort-of shield. He made a show out of slowly chewing it, holding back a gag. He used his water to swallow it down and stuck his tongue out to show that he had finished it.

“No way,” Y/N shook her head, nose scrunched.

“You are insane,” James shook his head.

“Tastes exactly the way you think,” Harry took another sip of water. “Right, James. I’m going to choose for you…...the water scorpion.”

“The giant water scorpion. For reference, this is what he’s chosen for me,” James picked up the stiff, hard, black bug and showed the camera. “Go on, what’s your question.”

Harry cleared his throat, picked up a card, and chuckled, “James, I’ve been on your show for years, and even taken over for you twice. Who is your favorite member of One Direction.”

A smile slowly spread on James' face and he shook his head, staring off at the audience as they screamed and laughed. “I can’t choose that,” James breathed, turning to face him.

“Well, you have to, or else you’ll be eating a giant water scorpion.”

“Oh, come on, we all know it’s not Harry,” Y/N joked, earning an amused glare from Harry.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, “I happen to know, for a fact, that it is me. Go on, James. Tell ‘em.”

“You think it’s you, do ya?” James questioned, looking between them before finally picking up the water scorpion, “You keep thinking that,” he joked before taking a bite of its head and chewing. He laughed mid-chew, spit it out in his bucket, and took another sip of water.

“How dare you,” Harry joked, indignantly.

James laughed, turning the table, “Y/N, It’s my turn to ask you a question. But first, I’m going to give you the salmon smoothie.”

“Ugh,” Y/N sniffed it’s pungent aroma, sitting away from the glass of pink, chunky fish.

She looked up at James as he scanned the card and laughed, “Y/N, you were nominated for a lot of awards this year. Who has won against you that didn’t deserve to?”

“Oh noooo,” Y/N trailed, throwing her head back, causing James and Harry to laugh.

“No, come on, we were all shocked on at least one of those categories,” James offered. Y/N shook her head, taking hold of the glass.

“Chug, chug, chug!” Harry chanted, compelling the audience to join in.

“Fuck off,” Y/N mouthed to Harry, making him laugh as she took a swig of the monstrous drink.

The second it hit her tongue, she heaved, quickly grabbing the tin and spitting the contents in as James called the end of the game. She took several sips of water, gulping it down to alleviate the lingering taste in her mouth. They called for a wrap, and Harry immediately dug out a packet of gum from his pocket, offering one to each of them while more crew rushed up to them.

Y/N thanked him, shoving the wrapper in her suit pocket, and after they were briefed from the crew, they had about fifteen minutes to spare while they set up for Harry’s performance. People from each of their teams tried to talk to them, but Y/N had something else in mind.

“Follow me,” she told him, grabbing his arm and jogging through the halls backstage. He chuckled, confused, but intrigued, following closely behind her until they reached the door of her dressing room. “Give me your suit jacket.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised and mouth formed an ‘O’, realizing what she was doing. With a grin, he unbuttoned his suit and shrugged it off, carefully handing it over to her. She shot him a smile, which made him grow steadily more keen, watching as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, disappearing. He waited, leaning against the wall for what seemed like a little longer than necessary for switching jackets. When she emerged wearing his jacket, his smile widened.

“Looks better on you,” he smirked.

She smiled, passing him the clump of red fabric that was her top, “Let’s see if we can say the same about you.”

He slipped his arms through the sleeves of her jacket, and although there was plenty of room in the arms because of the flare, the chest and waist were a bit tight. He made sure not to tie the sash too tightly and straightened it out, “How do I look?”

She giggled, flattening the collar of the jacket and joking, “Beautiful.”

They made their way back towards the main area of the backstage, surrounded by their teams and crew, laughing about the jacket change and prepping Harry some more as he rummaged through a small travel-sized toiletry bag for the disposable toothbrushes and toothpaste, and the two of them brushed their teeth.

Eventually, Harry was ushered to another stage where he and a band were situated. Lights dimmed and shone strategically on him as he was announced and began to play. Y/N, never having been to a Harry Styles concert, and a fan of his music, watched from the side of the stage, arms crossed and leaning against a large black case of some sort. He looked over at her a couple of times, trying to hide a coy smile, he danced around the stage and used the sash on her jacket like a rope, swinging it around.

When he finally finished, she, along with the studio audience, clapped and cheered for him. He thanked them, clasping his hands and bowing a few times, humbly repeating, “Thank you,” while James announced it was a wrap. Y/N joined Harry on the stage where the two of them, along with James, greeted people in the audience, signing pictures, papers, and phone cases, just chatting with the fans and taking selfies with them.

James, Harry, Y/N, and their publicists spent about an hour and a half to two hours after the taping to sit down at a nearby restaurant for a bite to eat. They were seated at a private table, enjoying some more banter and fun. She had a feeling that Harry was flirting with her, or maybe she was just hoping he was. He started it off by sneakily stealing bits of fries off of her plate throughout the meal as he sat across from her, and she would reciprocate by ‘accidentally’ stepping on his toes under the table.

“Hope I didn’t scuff those Gucci loafers,” she winked, smirking.

As much as she didn’t want the night to end, there weren't many excuses she could make to prolong the conversation, and everyone else was very clearly tired aside from the two of them. Y/N stayed towards the back of the group as they made their way back outside, and Harry slowed his pace and hung back until he was walking side-by-side with Y/N.

“I guess I should give this back to you,” he slipped the jacket off of him as they exited through the back, letting the cool LA air swirl on their faces.

Everyone was giving hugs and saying their goodbyes. Y/N looked down at her jacket in his hand and she leaned in to kiss either side of his face, lingering a little longer than normal. When she pulled away she shook her head and lightly pushed the jacket back towards him, “No. Keep it. An excuse to see you again.” And as she began walking backward to join her group, she called out, “check the pockets.”

His toothy smile turned into a furrowed eyebrow. Confused, he dug his hand in either pocket of the jacket until he pulled out what looked to be the gum wrapper. But, upon closer inspection, he noticed a series of numbers written in black ink. Her phone number. He looked up just in time to see Y/N opening a car door.

“Call me!” she shouted, smirking, before getting in and closing the door.

Harry’s smile grew even more, clutching the red jacket tighter and slinging it over his shoulder, making sure to carefully store the gum wrapper in his wallet and watching as her car drove off down the street and out of view.

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