#they also filmed him going to the bathroom not once but TWICE

[thebandtrashimp]

watching the urethra chronicles is always the funniest thing cuz at the beginning each of the guys has a section to introduce/talk about themselves. and mark and tom take the opportunity to brag about how COOL and AMAZING and SEXY they are and how all the women should sleep with them

and then travis comes on and he’s just like. uhh hi. i’m the drummer. I haven’t been here long so here’s a bunch of clips of me drumming that can speak for themselves. here are all my tattoos and my cool old cars and my funky little store in LA that sells funky little things. can I please be done now

[ilikecrocssuckit]

BG3 Headcanons No One Asked For (ilikecrocssuckit edition)

Inspired by the wonderful series by @grenanigans

This episode: Each companion at the movie theater!

Astarion

Gets Hot Tamales candy or other cinnamon one just because it allows him to feel some semblance of warmth.

Pretends to like horror movies. Actually finds them deeply troubling and triggering but he'll be twice-damned if he shows that.

Chronic hater of every movie ever.

Gale

Rather disgusted by theater concessions. Still buys the biggest popcorn because he knows it's how they make money.

Seeks out the artiest and most pretentious films possible. Donates to the Baldur's Gate film festival and submits to it every year specifically to support such films.

Meticulously crafts his Letterboxd reviews after every screening.

Karlach

Wants to get a shushy but they always melt too fast so she never bothers anymore. Settles for popcorn, nachos, and 3 hot dogs.

Genuinely loves horror movies and finds Ghostface, Art the Clown, and Michael Myers attractive. Mostly though, she just loves being at the movies.

Cheers and laughs and generally reacts enthusiastically when the movie calls for it. She always cleans up after herself if she spills though.

Lae'zel

Rarely eats at the theater until she learns that they make money off of concessions, then follows Gale's lead because she finds the fact that they don't make money doing the thing they're designed for reprehensible.

Mostly just fascinated by the fact that movies exist and people put effort into creating them. Deeply interested in the filmmaking process and specifically looks for Blu-Rays with extensive behind the scenes features when she likes the movie. Treasures her Lord of the Rings Extended Editions for this reason.

Obsessively watches those "Expert Breaks Down Scenes From Movies and TV" videos because she wants to know where her favorite things succeed and fail so she can write letters to those responsible in the crew.

Shadowheart

Loves the Good & Plentys or other licorice candies. Doesn't like popcorn. Gets an obnoxiously large drink though and almost always beelines for the bathroom after the movie's over or sometimes during. Relies on Lae'zel to fill her in afterwards because Lae'zel won't speak during the movie itself. This has caused her to be confused about major plot points on multiple occasions.

Loves the horror movies that even make Karlach squirm. The really extreme horror ones that get like a one or two night release or get shown at the grindhouse that Orin frequents. Also has a soft spot for family dramas and romantic comedies but she'll never suggest them as something to go see.

Genuinely fails to see the point of theaters in the age of streaming [Editor's note: Yes, I do hate this about her.] Still goes because it makes Lae'zel happy.

Wyll

Buys a big slushie and puts it in Karlach’s cup holder. Gets a modest popcorn for himself.

Doesn't particularly have a lot of preference for what they watch. Usually just lets it all soak in. Has a penchant for swashbuckler epics though, and secretly keeps his eye out for rereleases of some of the classics. Sad there are hardly any made anymore.

Has the theater membership so everyone else can get cheaper tickets. Is happy to help his friends be more social and get out of the house.

Bonus

Halsin

Has a kink about sex in the back of the theater. Rarely gets to indulge. Sometimes goes to whatever the biggest R-rated bomb of the weekend is with his date so he can do so.

Jaheira

Exclusively sees children's and family movies with her wards and Minsc. Too busy otherwise. Maintains an encyclopedic knowledge of them regardless.

Made the mistake of thinking animation=kid-friendly only once.

Minsc

Only goes when Boo is excited for a movie or when asked by one of Jaheira's wards.

Boo loves to watch space sci-fi to laugh at the inaccurate aliens. Still appreciates practical effects of them though. Minsc just enjoys explosions and cool spaceships.

Wishes someone would make a movie about him. He would absolutely be banned from the set for being too nitpicky.

[bunnypansy]

Whiskey, Neat

Rated E, for EVERYONE!

Boothill is the most annoying customer you have to deal with.

Featuring: Boothill and YOU!

Beware! This film contains: Probably OOC Boothill (made before his release), gender neutral reader, the reader doesn't like straight whiskey sorry guys, not quite frenemies to lovers....? more like two ppl annoying the fuck outta each other, Boothill threatens to kill you once or twice, but he also flirts, a touch of angst at the VERY end, mention of sexual harassment but it's just the reader calling Boothill a creep I repeat there is zero sexual harassment in this fic

Boothill is a thorn in your side. No, no; you find yourself thinking that comparison is too tame. To you, Boothill is a girdle made of barbed wire. You thought it impossible to hate a man at such a depth until you met the outlaw. He always smelled like hot pennies and diesel, never paid his tab, and harassed the rest of the bar staff to such a degree that none of them would serve him. Except you.

For the first few months of your “relationship”, you were only acquainted with Boothill from the countless times you had to drag him away from the bar top and throw him out the front door. Shortly after that, your boss said you should learn a thing or two about bartending for “no good reason”. You were starting to catch on. Soon enough your position as security faded away and was replaced with “the guy who dealt with Boothill”. You can't complain, the pay is better and you have the eternal gratitude of your coworkers.

In a matter of mere seconds, the front doors swing open, and three deafening gunshots shatter the eardrums of everyone in the bar.

“Alright, everyone out.” Just like that, you watch all the good tips run right out the door, along with the rest of the wait staff. Now left in an empty bar, Boothill throws his arms wide, gun still held tight in his metal fingers. “I'm back, baby! You miss me?”

The revolver takes a seat at the bar top before Boothill does, slammed down hard against the wood, its barrel pointed right at you. You're not worried, Boothill doesn't shoot on accident.

“Like a hole in the head.” You quit cleaning a glass and glance at the new bullet holes placed just above the door. “Or the ceiling… order your drink and get the fuck outta here already, Boots. You're killing business.”

“Keep mouthin’ off and I'll be killin’ more than business, sweetheart.” As if to prove his point, the freak of nature spits a few bullets onto the bar top and starts reloading his gun.

You can't help but roll your eyes at Boothill’s threats. The man offers to shoot you every other breath, but he'll never do it- if he was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. You're the only man still alive who talks to Boothill like that. Probably because you're the only man alive who’ll still serve him a drink. “You're not gonna kill me, Boots. Piss off any more bartenders and you're gonna have to get your fix from the hand sanitizer in public bathrooms.” 

A deep scowl takes over Boothill’s face. “You're just askin’ for me to hop this counter and kiss you right on that pretty mouth of yours.” He stops then, equal parts embarrassed and furious as a hand comes to grasp at his own throat, surely cursing his internal censor system.

“Wow, sexual harassment, that's a new low, even for a hunk of junk like you.” You snort and a short glass finds its way into your hands. You're already pulling the strongest whiskey you have from beneath the counter, knowing Boothill will ask for it any second.

As if intentionally subverting your expectations, the outlaw kicks his feet up on the bar with an amused chuckle and a smug smile that makes you want to punch his teeth right out of his face. 

“You just call me a hunk?” Six words in and you're already exasperated beyond belief. He's leaving crusty speckles on your clean bar. “Darlin’, if you wanted to take me out so bad, you coulda’ just asked.” 

You elbow Boothill right in the ankles; it brings a mild ache to your arm as bone meets unrelenting metal, but the pain is worth it to watch the self-satisfied prick lose his grin and nearly fall out of his chair. “I’d rather drink a pint of sand and chew the glass it came in, take your drink and get outta here.”

The glass slides across the bar just a touch too fast, the liquid fire inside threatening to slosh over the sides; if Boothill's hand hadn't shot out to catch the glass, it surely would've sailed right off the bar and shattered on the floor. 

“Come on now sweet thing, don't act like you hate me.” He recuperates much too fast, already leaning on his palm. There's a horrible, discordant shrieking emitted by the friction of metal against glass; Boothill running his fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Can't deny we’ve got some kinda chemistry.”

“Oh, it ain't acting, trust.” You snort at Boothill’s shot at… Well, you're not sure; could this be called flirting? If so, it's a laughable attempt. “We've got chemistry like bleach and ammonia.” 

You know he's got some smart-mouthed response when Boothill bares his pointed teeth in a massive grin. “Could say we'd be… breathtakin’?” 

It's horrible. That joke is worse than any sugar-coated insult Boothill could toss your way. One hand shoots out to grasp Boothill’s glass, the other going to grip his chin. 

“Agh- what the-” You don't give Boothill time to finish, wedging your fingers between his razor-sharp teeth to pry his mouth open and dump the glass of whiskey down his throat. He gargles once, coughs twice, and swats at your hands furiously. 

“You had your drink. Now run off, you robotic trash-eating vermin.” Fresh bruises are purpling on your wrists from Boothill’s strikes. It could still be worse. He could tell another joke.

Boothill is still sputtering like a drowned rat, grasping at his throat and swearing- or doing his best impression of it. “What in heaven’s holy gates, darling!?” He coughs again. “You tryna’ give me a heart attack you cute little minx?! Who just pours a drink down a man's throat?!”

“Someone who's trying to get the man to leave. You had your drink, now scram before I call animal control.” You reach to take away Boothill’s empty half-glass, only to get caught in the outlaw’s iron grip.

His spare hand slams down against the bar top, a cacophony of delicate tinkling ringing out as glassware rattles and bumps against itself. “Oh don't pull that cute crap with me, sweetheart! Pour me another one, so I can drink it nice and slow.” 

“You're a jackass, you know?” The words come out hissed between your teeth, roiling with barely concealed hatred, but you’re already moving to pour him another. Every time you encounter Boothill, you curse his stubbornness. 

“Watch your mouth.” His grip relaxes slightly, but he keeps his stern expression as he sits back down. “Whiskey, neat.”

You almost laugh, jerking your wrist out of his grasp- does Boothill seriously think you need a reminder? Though you’d much rather kick him to the curb with a few extra bullet holes in his ugly hat, you pour Boothill a second drink with an insulted scoff. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you fuckin’ drink.”

When Boothill takes the drink this time, he tilts the glass towards you in an encouraging motion. “Pour one for yourself, too.” The look you give him must be an incredulous one, because he scowls and waves a hand at you dismissively. “Aw, Pete's sake. Just do it!”

The sigh you heave is so heavy that Boothill briefly looks for an open window, thinking there’s a draft coming in. You drag your feet through pulling down a second glass, lamenting that now you have two dishes to do when the outlaw leaves. The pour you give yourself can be more accurately called a sip, barely coming to the width of your finger. When Boothill shoots an exasperated look your way, you already have a retort prepped for him.

“Not all of us can drink in the middle of the damn day, Boots.” You stare down at the drink, swirling it lightly with a disgusted grimace. “Besides, I’m no fan of straight whiskey. I’m more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy.”

The way Boothill smiles smugly makes you wanna punch dents into his metal chest. “Oh, bless your heart, that’s cute. Stuff’s too sweet for me, personally.” He lifts his glass to you, asking for a toast.

“Too sweet? Hell, Boots. Maybe hand sanitizer is a good match for you.” Reluctantly, you tilt your glass towards his, the rims letting out a high ringing as they meet.

This time Boothill pulls an exasperated face, raising the glass to sit just in front of his lips. “Just drink already, I’m tryna’ be nice, and you’re out here ruinin’ it with your smart lil’ mouth.” 

After a second of hesitation, staring into the amber, you tip the glass back and let the drink slide down your throat. It burns, chemical and hot, like sandpaper tearing through your esophagus. It’s all you can do to not dry heave at the feeling, but you can’t stifle a coughing fit. “Fucking hell- how can you drink this shit?”

The drink came much easier to Boothill, nursing his whiskey as if he were only sipping on tap water. “Guess I just got a more refined palette, sweet thing. Thanks for sharin’ a drink with me anyway. You make a guy feel less lonely.”

For once, Boothill seems strangely earnest and you can’t help but be put off guard. You suppose, with such a polarizing personality and by the very nature of outrunning the law, Boothill must live quite the isolating life. Then again, if he wanted to be less alone, he could simply stop getting himself kicked out of bars. Still, you stumble over your words for a second, looking for a proper thing to say, and in the end only muttering out a sorry; “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Even to you, that doesn’t quite make you sound like yourself. Dishes, you have dishes to do, a distraction that can carry your mind away from Boothill’s odd shift in demeanor. You’re expecting a snide comment about how quiet you’re being, but when you look back at Boothill, he’s fixed his gaze on an empty wall; clearly, he’s far away from here. You’re trying not to think about it too hard- Boothill’s seemingly flirtatious remarks, asking you to drink -but in the empty bar, it’s silent, and it’s almost… nice.

I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS. I PROMISE. the Barbatos fic is coming out to be twice as long as just about anything else I've written so it's taking a long time. I saw Boothill things and was possessed by spirits to make this. Also. Yes inspired by the Hozier song

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

My dog | BandaSunato x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pet play - Shower sex - Dark!Banda - Red flag - NSFW - Beating and cuts from Banda - NON/CON - NON-CON TOUCHING -

This was beyond humillating, having to wear a collar and bark was bad enoguht.

"Bark twice for yes and one for no, but you know what happens if you bark once"

You had to endure it. It was more physcological than anything, being beated up till your skin broke and blood spilled out only for him to lick it... and also how he would inflict cuts to get himself off.

The sight of you, weak, bruised and bloodied aroused him, the many tapes he had filmed of you with him in the background getting off.

You were repulsed.

His torture never ended. His attacks never ended. He kept you in the dark, in a single room with the door locked. You did not know how many days it has been, how many days have passed since he took you from your home.

He would come with food from time to time, he mostly gave you water, something you mistook as him being human. But it was all a sick trick to get you full of need to pee, only for him to forcefully have his way with you. Your first time squirting was by his fingers, after a full day with no bathroom. The bed was a mess, and it was messed up how he cuddled you after it. Licking your tears, and "shh its all going to be fine".

You were not sure when, all the "puppy play" had started or how he got the idea. It was better not to know, you decided one night thinking on how sick he was.

Your collar had your name, and you even had a leash to match the color of it. During these times, Banda would force you to eat from the floor, he would pet your hair and talk to you like you were his dog.

"Im taking good care of you, right?"

"You love me, right? Im a good owner after all"

If you did not bark twice to these kind of comments the consecuences were severe. Sometimes it was beating, others times no food for days or water.

The sex or well abuse during this was...well strange. He would tell you to get in all fours, just like a good dog. He would enter you from behind with minum preparation, he loved to leave bruises inside of you.

But all of it ended in you needing a shower. Banda did not like them, something among the lines "water will wash all of me from you" and god, you did want that. Wanted nothing more than to wash away all of him from you.

"Alright, you smell, and i cant let you end sick, so its time for a shower, what does my little dog say?"

He was so condescending, he knew you had no option but to agree.

The bathroom was standar, nothing fancy. The products were simple, shampoo, acondicionator and soap. Nothing more.

For a moment the idea of that you would be able to shower alone crossed your mind, but it was descarted as you saw Banda getting out of his clothes then doing the same to you.

He forced you into the shower, turning the water on, it was cold, it made you scream in suprise and shock. Banda just laughted adjusting the temperature for him to get in with you.

He made you stand up, taking the shampoo first to wash your hair. His hands did massage you, it felt oddly good from him. He then moved his fingers down to your shoulders then started to push you down on your knees.

You knew what he wanted.

Opening your mouth your tongue down, he wasted no time in getting his dick inside. He groaned, the sensation of your mouth and troath was something he adored, even if the first times you would bite him.

He pushed your head, your face almost hitting his naked body, between how deep he was and the water falling on your face it was getting hard to breath.

But you endured it till he came with a groan pushing you away.

He then took the body soap making some foam then went to clean your body. It was an excuse to touch you.

He liked to take his time with your breasts and nippels, he would also push your purpel marks hard to see you cry.

Once he finished he took a towel and dried you. While he did so he decided to give you some news.

"I saw you on tv today, they said your family has stopped looking for you"

You froze, the space around you felt numb, you felt like you were under a deep pressure, your mind was going too quick you could not understand.

Then Banda's eyes were on you, there was no emotion on them, maybe a flick of joy because of your suffering.

"Dont be sad, now i can train you to be even better"

[lonelycowgirls]

Girl on Film

New Harry and Stella content! 🌟🎉 *the crowd goes mild*

I know it's been an AGE, but I've been working on this on and off for a while and I just wanted to get it out there, but it just wasn't happening...

But here it is – I hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing it, certainly made me feel some type of way 😏

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xo

~

“So, I had a patient come in today, who I haven’t seen since her six-week scan, and she said I look good because I’ve put on weight?” Stella said in a questioning tone, pulling her hair back with her fluffy hairband.

“Oh, right,” Harry nodded, turning the corners of his lips down in consideration, then returning to carefully shaving his chin. Stella frowned at him in the mirror and crossed her arms, after popping the cap back onto her micellar water.

“Well, have I?” This was dangerous territory, the way Harry responded now would determine how the rest of their evening would go – and he’d never mastered the right way to answer these types of questions, no matter how many ‘man-to-man’ chats he’d had with his dad and his friends.

“Have you what?” He said, words coming out strangely due to his stretched cheeks as he ran the razor blades carefully across his skin. He heard Stella scoff. Wrong answer.

“Put on weight, you dickhead. Are you even listening?” She resisted the urge to shove his side so as to not cause him to cut himself.

“Oh, right, I can’t say I’ve noticed, bub.” He mumbled nonchalantly as Stella’s chin pulled in with frustration.

“Well, that’s great, a woman who barely sees me notices more about me than my boyfriend who I live with.” Harry rolled his eyes as Stella marched out of their bathroom. He leaned against the double sink unit they shared and hung his head with a sigh, some remnants of white, frothy shaving cream still covering his chin.

This was typical Stella, she knew it as well. Knew that she could fly off the handle at the slightest thing – like she was made of gasoline and just a flicker of a match could cause an explosion. He’d put up with it for a long time, when a few of his friends and family members had told him to leave and find an easier life, he’d considered it for a week at most and then looked at her face again and couldn’t imagine being without her – temper and all.

Harry was a chilled out guy, he liked to think that they balanced each other out. He’d act as fresh water poured over Stella’s flame whenever she got too hot, and Lord did she know how to get him wound up when he needed it.

Yeah, they were a delicate balance, but didn't she ever piss him off as well sometimes.

Once he’d finished up and brushed his teeth, he shut the light off in their ensuite and slumped back into the bedroom with his tail between his legs. Eyeing Stella, she didn’t look up from her book from behind her glasses. She eyed his back when he turned.

Harry pulled the duvet back, sliding in beside her and shutting his lamp off. One arm resting on the pillow above his head, he shuffled to get comfortable and sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Was I too skinny before?” Stella asked after a few beats, taking a break from staring at the words on the page — having been on the same sentence for nearly 10 minutes.

“What?” Harry made a distressed face, running his palms across its planes – he was hoping he could just go to sleep and she’d forget about it by morning. “Babe, come on.” He said, rolling to his side to look at her.

“What? I’m being so serious,” she replied, shutting her book and chucking it on her bedside table. “I need to know if I’m living unhealthily.” She flopped her arms down by her sides, looking up to the ceiling.

“You know you’re not though, Stell.” Sure, Stella was on her feet for 15-hour shifts at least twice a week, skipped breakfast and only managed an average of five hours of sleep each night, but she tried to eat well and work out when she did get time. “What’s this really about? Why are you so upset by what this random woman said?”

“Do you really not see it? You never noticed?” Stella felt vulnerable, even after all this time with him, she felt uncomfortable looking him in the eye.

“I don’t want this to come across the wrong way…” Harry came up to lean on his arm, looking down at her and running a hand across her body over the top of the duvet. She chanced a look up at him, skepticism clear on her face. “I haven’t noticed, because I don’t think about it.” Stella opened her mouth to retaliate, almost sitting up but being pushed back down. “Listen,” He warned with a look. “I don’t think about it… because I’m thinking about how I can make you laugh next. I’m thinking about how much I’m looking forward to next sitting down in the evening and having a cuddle whilst watching Love Island or old Four In A Bed episodes, or some new drama you want to watch. I’m thinking about how gentle and loving you are with the cats. I’m thinking about how lucky I am to be able to come home to you, to your hugs and kisses. I’m thinking about how comfortable and cosy you make our home. I’m thinking about how you’re the best friend I’ve ever had… and the only partner I’ll ever want.”

Stella pursed her lips to keep a smile from bursting across her face, Harry moved to remove her glasses from her face, leaning in to kiss her, but she moved her lips away just before they connected. Harry smirked at her with a mock frown in his brow – now she wanted to play.

“You are such a sweet talker…” She said quietly, running her fingers back through his thick hair. “You should write songs.” Harry nodded with a dumb look on his face, like she’d just said she’d discovered that water is wet.

“That’s actually such a shout from you.” Harry nodded, dimple protruding from his smirk. He leaned in to rub his nose against hers, but she continued to dodge his puckering lips.

“You know what,” she said, pushing him back by his shoulder, his eyes growing darker and lulling now, routinely running from her eyes to her lips and back again. “I think it’s because you’re not on tour anymore.” She perched on one elbow to mirror him, creating a level playing field.

“What are you on about?” Harry laughed slightly, trying to pull her into him by her hip even when she pawed at his chest in protest.

“Think I’ve gotten too comfortable, when you’re not here I’m actually conscious of how I look.” She was being honest, he could tell by the lack of smirk next to his own. He shuffled forward, taking her further in his arms — with minimal protest this time.

“I don’t know how to respond to that.” Harry’s voice came out muffled as he buried his face in her neck. She chuckled, rolling her eyes and scratching his scalp through his hair.

“Suppose I should make a bit more effort around you, shouldn’t I, really?” She commented, “You are Harry Styles™ after all.” He brought his head out to look up at her with a deep frown, bordering on disgust.

“Nah, fuck that shit. Sloth about if you want to. Do you, sister.” She smiled softly at him. “Doesn’t make me wanna shag you any less.” She threw her head back in a lazy cackle, and he took that opportunity to press a few kisses to her throat.

“Is that all I am to you… a hole?” She shook her head at him and tried to move, only for him to pull her closer again – damn Brad for those inescapable arms.

“Now, now... you’ve got two other holes which I’m also very fond of.” He smoothed his hands down her sides. “Even if I only got to be in one for about two and a half seconds… and the other one only opens on my birthday.” He pinched at her waist and she gasped, slapping at his arm.

“Got that right.” She said smugly, leaning forward to kiss him firmly on the lips.

“Mmm, now that you mention it,” He bit his lip, nose still grazing Stella’s. “Your arse has been looking a lot rounder... fuller.” He cupped it in his hands, so familiar with the way it felt.

“Stooooop.” She pushed at him, yet again, to no avail.

“Can barely fit it in my hands now.” He was exaggerating, easily grabbing a fistful.

“Harry.” She chastised, trying to roll away. He flipped the duvet off of the two of them, exposing her naked figure.

“Let’s take a closer look, eh?” He instead rolled her to her front, she cackled, accepting her fate and running a hand over her face. “Ah, yes, I believe the mandem would call this, a bunda.” He smoothed his hands up and down over the bare skin, she laughed louder at him pretending to inspect her.

“Stop it, you idiot.” Stella, covered her face in embarrassment as Harry manhandled her arse with his fingers, kneading the flesh like dough.

“No? A batty then.” He questioned, licking a stripe up a cheek and then digging his teeth in for a bite. Stella gasped, feeling a heat pool in her abdomen. She looked down at him then, arching her back to push her bum out to his face. “Oh, so now you like it?”

One thing about Harry; he could make Stella feel like a supermodel. She felt incredibly average in her everyday life, whether it was doing the weekly shop or working the wards. But she always felt undeniably sexy with him — even laid bare before his eyes. When he manhandled her like this, she felt the urge to set up a camera to push record, just so she could watch it back to see herself with him. See him work her up from an outside perspective.

She flipped her hair over to one side, biting down on her lip as he pressed open-mouth kisses all over her arse, feeling herself grow wetter and wetter. She turned her head to watch him again, loving the sight of her gorgeous man worshiping her. His eyes were closed, almost in a dreamlike state, as he pushed each kiss with a small groan and a wet smack.

Ghosting his lips up the crack of her bum, Harry spread her cheeks and spat in the gap, causing Stella to groan. 

“Mm, yes… get it wet, baby.” She sighed out, her voice taking on that velvet tone that had him driving his hips into the duvet. Unable to wait and knowing exactly what she wanted, Harry continued to massage her cheeks up and outwards while he went to town on her hole. He glanced up to watch her burying her face into the pillow, clutching it and groaning from her chest. Unlike when he went down on her up front, Stella could never look directly at him when he ate her arse. She loved it, but he knew she’d never straight up ask for it, so he’d have to take the lead to bring them into the position they were now in, so that she could enjoy herself without embarrassment.

Forcing her hips back into his face, Harry growled and brought his hand down with a smack, followed by a harsh grip, making her arch and throw her head back. Keeping his lips attached to her hole, he cupped under her hip bones and lifted until she was up on her knees, her sacred parts fully displayed out for him. Before he had a chance to get his own fingers on her, she was rubbing slow, deep circles into her clit, moaning from her throat, hair coating her face as she pressed into the pillow.

He smirked when their fingers brushed and moved back slightly to spit at her again, licking and smacking his lips against her puckering hole that was clenching in rhythm with her heavy breathing. Her fingers came to move in tandem over his on her clit, allowing her to guide her own pleasure.

“Fuuuuuck me, I’m gonna come, love your fucking mouth.” Curses tumbled from her lips but before she could reach the apex, she was flipped to her back. Harry grabbed her wrist as she bounced back on the mattress, hair a disarray and chest and face carrying a delicious flush, and placed it back on her pussy. She immediately began her furious ministrations again.

“Come, baby,” He ordered, lying on his stomach, face inches from where her fingers were flying, he spat on her once more to keep her going. “Let me see that pussy clench.” He held her legs open and she winced over the stretch pulling at her inner thighs. At last, silently screaming, Stella’s mouth went agape. Her chin dropping to her chest, eyebrows drawing in almost impossibly close and finally breaking eye contact as they rolled to the back of her head. “Yes, yes, yes.” He chanted, mesmerised.

Seconds of silence were finally met with a deep growl from her throat as her head fell back on her shoulders and she convulsed in ecstasy. Harry pulled her wrist away and attached his lips to her clit, sucking it like a sticky sweet. Every breath that escaped her lungs was paired with a small high-pitched moan, her nails digging into her boyfriend’s head while her hips rutted into his face.

Harry could tell she was coming down, after years of pleasuring her he knew her body almost as well as she did. He moved to press soft kisses across her labia, continuing up to her soft tummy, each full breast and up to her neck. Her ankles locked around his lower back as she draped her arms across his shoulders — feeling consumed and divinely pleasured. 

Harry rutted up into the backs of her thighs, “You’re such a little sex pot, aren’t you,” another rut, a moan from her, “could watch you play with yourself forever.” Another rut, “We should film ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah,” She sighed over a laugh, shaking her head. “Can’t imagine what could go wrong there.”

“No one will ever see, baby.” Harry whispered, darkly, running the tip of his nose up her cheek, pushing a kiss into her temple. “Wanna take you away with me, I’ve been in love too long… I’m too grown to be missing you… touching myself like a teenager over just the thought of you… your body… the way it feels… the way it responds to me… wanna have something to really remind me.”

It’s like he was drunk, all this mumbling, he was drunk on her. On them. It was all Stella could do but to lie back and take it, they didn’t even need to place him inside her, he just rutted until he slipped in, a soft gasp leaving her lips as he slid along her walls. 

She caressed the side of his face with the tips of her fingers, both of their bodies pressed together and rocking back and forth together. It was intense — Stella had never cried during sex before, but the feeling of burning behind her eyes suggested a first time for everything.

Harry’s pubic bone continued grazing her clit, so right that it was almost maddening. Stella couldn’t control her moaning, it was nearly too much. His strong hips sped up consistently until their breathing was mingling together in a tangle of hot air and she was clinging to him for dear life.

“Baby, baby, baby, fuck!” Stella squealed rhythmically as they rocked, “God, Harry.” She cried in disbelief and tried her hardest to keep her eyes on his, she couldn’t bare to miss a moment of the look on his face — just so enamoured, present and fucked out. They needed this so badly. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. “I love you…” Stella was feeling every emotion, Harry had done what only he could, he’d stripped her walls and made her submit. “I’m beyond in love with you, Harry.” She breathed out with a moan that had Harry tearing up, but also speeding up. “I’m part of you.”

“Fuck…” Harry cursed, holding his mouth over hers and panting over the excursion of his hips, his masculine instinct kicking in. He was fucking her like an animal fucks his mate – like it was the last thing he’d ever do. 

When he finally came, it was with a juvenile whine as she held his chin between her thumb and fingers and clenched down hard, and she was reminded of her gentle and sensitive lover. She brought him down to kiss her and his repetitive, high-pitched moans vibrated on her tongue. Rolling off of her, they both laid with their arms splayed out, Stella’s head still resting on Harry’s forearm. She stuck her tongue out at the icky feeling of his come dribbling out of her, but could barely feel her legs to move to the toilet.

“You get sooo emotional when we fuck nowadays.” Harry panted, energy spent, droplets of sweat running back into his hairline.

“Shut up, I can’t help it.” Stella weakly hit his rising chest with the back of her hand, making him laugh. “Your dick triggers me.”

“Nah, I love it. Never change.” She smiled at that, rolling slightly to throw a sticky leg over his hips.

“Oh, don’t worry, this temper and batty isn’t going anywhere, baby.”

~

Read more from the Been There All Along universe here!

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - ONE

Series

summary: Steve can't remember what happened lat night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all– even more so when you can't remember what you regret.

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 955

chapter warnings: vague memories, indications of trauma, bruises, insomnia, dissociation, derealization, non-sexual nud1ty, mention and description of vomiting, anxiety attack, crying

a/n: So... this happened. the original wip was a one-shot inspired by this year's Whumptober Prompt #17: COLLAR, "LEAVE ME ALONE!"; as well as Alt. Prompt #15: RELUCTANT WHUMPER. I was going to use an idea I've had for a long time, but then I wrote... and wrote... and wrote... and now we're here. I struggled deciding on an idea for this and am thinking about also writing a separate work with Bucky, but I might also maybe be planning one from the readers POV, and maybe kinda sorta joining the two together and seeing where it goes. we'll see! I hope you enjoy

The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always ♥

Saturday, currently.

The alarm clock on Steve Rogers’ bedside table blares louder than it usually does.

Steve is already awake, however. He’s been awake for hours, lying in bed, staring unblinking at the faded white ceiling of his frat house bedroom. His eyes are bloodshot, the corners crusted from one part insomnia and one part tears. His body aches. Every muscle, every bone, feels like he’s been beaten senseless.

He doesn’t remember when he stopped crying.

Finally, he blinks. Slowly, unevenly, inhaling deeply. He holds it for a moment, the pressure in his chest providing some semblance of feeling in the numbness throughout his body. An exhale forces its way out of his lungs once the pressure begins to burn. He wills his hand to move, dropping on top of the alarm clock and his room falls back into silence once more. His hand falls limp off the nightstand as he drags it back to his side.

In a blur of his very few– and very failed– attempts to sleep that night, Steve remembers the second time he woke with a shout halfway out his throat. The navy blue comforter had tangled up in his sprawled limbs, the sheets being an entirely different mess at the foot of the bed. He’d thrown all of the covers on his bed onto the floor around three in the morning, when he succumbed to the threat of nightmares and insomnia, forced to lie awake.  

His skin feels filthy, coated in scum and shame. Cold sweat beads on his forehead, neck, and back. His clothes– an old t-shirt he dug out of his closet and a reused pair of boxers– cling to him like a second, heavy skin. He needs to shed it, tear it off his body, claw it off until he hits bone. Everything feels suffocating as his tired brain swims with flashbacks to the night– the disaster– before. The shouts. The people. The sweat and tears. 

The sex.

The thought of the word itself– and all connotations now attached to it– is enough to send a lurch through Steve’s stomach. It comes to a rolling boil, ready to spill up and out his throat, a touch of acid burning the back of his tongue. He scrambles out of bed and sprints to the bathroom down the hall. The door flies open, lights flickering on as he slaps a free hand not covering his mouth at the light switch. He falls to his knees at the front of the toilet and heaves, instantly discarding the contents of his stomach into the bowl. He gags once, then twice, as tears stream down his face and neck. Strong hands grip the rim of the bowl like a vice, an anchor, to hold himself steady as he trembles. Curses echo off the porcelain and back up at him as he spits a final time, flushing and slumping against the cool acrylic of the bathtub. Part of him hopes he didn’t wake up the rest of the house, but another part hopes he did; he hopes that his retching reminds them, too, of what happened. 

Like they would fucking care.

Steve wipes his mouth. Clammy skin catches on his chapped lips. He groans, his heart racing, the room spinning, as he attempts to gather himself. The grimy feeling remains on his skin; his hands feel especially filthy. He inhales, shaky, and grabs onto the side of the tub. Despite his build– muscular and fit and usually capable– he struggles to stand from the floor. Once on stable feet, he shuffles to the bathroom door and pushes the button on the knob. The door locks with a soft click. He double checks by jiggling the handle. Nodding to himself, Steve turns to face the mirror, sliding off his damp t-shirt and boxers, dropping them to the floor. His hands morph into tight fists at his side, hard gaze remaining fixed on the nickel-plated faucet of the sink. Shame gnaws at him, at his insides, at his soul. 

He can’t even face his own fucking reflection. 

Half-moons cut into each of his palms, fingernails digging into flesh; it's a sorry attempt at trying to ground himself. He chews at his lip and cheek, a copper taste coating his tongue when the tissue becomes raw. Eyes shut, face screwed tightly, he pivots his head up. He forces his eyes open, his gaze instantly met with a stranger.

He doesn’t recognize the man in the mirror. There are still-red, still-raw scratches panning across a hard chest and running down the abdomen. Bruises are strewn sporadically down arms and shoulders. The occasional bite mark becomes visible when the man moves his arms, rotating them, inspecting them in the mirror. Focus shifts to the groin. Claw marks, desperate and haphazard, litter thick thighs, the strands of raw red leading up to his dick. Flaccid. Still sensitive. The body mimicking Steve’s gestures doesn’t seem real. It isn’t him. This shitty replica, beaten and bruised– it isn’t him. 

Finally, his gaze shifts to the face.

Steve’s mouth dries up immediately, the lump in his throat growing bigger, thicker. Swallowing quickly becomes impossible. All blood drains from his face. His limbs lose feeling. He doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t remember– he cannot fucking remember.

Surrounding Steve’s right eye, swimming in sickly colors in the tender flesh of his cheek and temple, lies a blackened, bruised eye. Purples and blues and greens are painted around his swelling lid; the skin is still tender and throbbing. He brings his hand to his face and traces the wound delicately, as if he’ll further mar the skin on his own body. He flinches at the lightest touch against it. 

It hurts as he starts to cry.

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

He's Just Dieter

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 1, 624

Summary: you and Dieter go and see Barbie together!

Warnings: some swearing, boys being disrespectful, Dieter being adorable and chaotic

Check out masterlist here

“Come on Barbie, let’s go party. Ah, ah, ah yeah! Come on Barbie let’s go party. Ooh woah, ooh woah!”

“Someone’s excited.”

Dieter stopped himself mid dance to notice you. You and Dieter were going to see Barbie and were dressing up for it. Pink wasn’t really your colour, but you fell in love with the gingham dress you saw Margot Robbie wear in the trailer, so you had gotten yourself a yellow version. He took one look at you and lovingly wrapped himself around you.

“You’re so pretty!” he squeed as he proceeded to feather your neck with kisses. You stopped him as he reached your décolletage area.

“Dieter, we don’t want to be late.”

He grumbled begrudgingly. “When we get back?”

“When we get back.”

At first, like everyone, you scoffed at the idea of a live action Barbie film but once news came out about it, you became more interested. The fact that it was being written and directed by Great Gerwig brought you hope that the female characters would be treated with care and respect. You ignored the backlash mainly because they were from men who felt threatened by a film about a girl’s toy. The fact that Dieter had gotten himself a bright pink suit purely to go see Barbie proved he did not feel threatened at all. It was actually his idea to go and see it and he was more than excited.

“There’s so much pink!” he exclaimed as you arrived at the cinema, “It’s nice to see lots of men who are comfortable enough in their sexuality to wear pink.”

“You look good in pink.”

“I know I do.”

You did your obligatory pre-screening trip to the bathroom and when you got out you noticed a teenage boy lurking, probably waiting for his girlfriend. You felt his eyes leering at your chest and your skin prickled in disgust.

“Hey babe, wassup?” his barely broken voice made his try hard flirting attempt almost hilarious.

“I’m twice your age, and you’re definitely not my type.” You scurried off to find Dieter who was getting movie snacks and you headed to line up. There was a young couple in front of you who were bickering with each other and making no effort of the others around them.

“Why can’t we sneak in to watch Oppenheimer?” You noticed it was that boy who tried to hit on you from earlier. He was standing next to what you supposed was his girlfriend who had clearly dressed up to see Barbie.

“Because it’ll be obvious if we do. And Kelly and I want to watch this film.” She motioned to her sister who was also dressed up to see the film.

“It’s a stupid movie.”

“How do you know?” Dieter had to ask, “Have you seen the film?”

“No,” scoffed the boy, “But Barbie is a stupid slut who’s only here to teach girls about fashion.”

“Actually, Ruth Handler created Barbie because she noticed that girls were projecting their ideal selves when playing with dolls and wanted to create a more mature version to reflect that. She’s supposed to be a role model telling girls that they can be whoever they want to be.”

“Whatever,” he clearly did not hear anything Dieter just said. He was giving his girlfriend a look which he was giving you earlier. She and her sister were dressed as a ballerinas which you thought looked cute but now you feared for their safety. He snaked an arm around her and tried to kiss her, but she moved away saying no, but he persisted which just brought back dark memories from your past. He tried to kiss her again, and she was ready to turn away again, but at this point Dieter stepped in.

“Hey, she said no, and you should respect that.”

The teenager seemed almost insulted, “She’s dressed sexy so she’s clearly putting out.”

“Uh, she’s dressed that way because she wants to.”

“She’s my girlfriend so I can do what I want.”

“Being her boyfriend doesn’t give you permission to treat her like property. Now you are going to treat her like a lady and apologise.” You swear a dark shadow was forming over Dieter’s face, bringing with it lightning to strike this boy down.

“You know what? Fuck this, and fuck you Stacie.” He stormed off leaving the poor girl close to tears. Her little sister instantly hugged her and both of you gestured the same.

“Are you okay?”, she nodded, and Dieter gently placed his arms on her shoulders, “Seriously if he doesn’t respect you then he’s not worth it. You deserve someone who loves you for you and it may take some time to fine them, but they are worth it.”

“He’s right. If he doesn’t respect your choice in films, he’s not worth it,” you looked at Dieter, “Well my films are a bit too scary for him, but he likes that I like them.”

The little girl looked at you, “You love scary movies? And you’re so pretty!” then she finally noticed Dieter in all his pinkness “You’re so pink I love it!”

He crouched down to be level with her, “You’re so pink I love it!” the little girl giggled in response, “So which Barbie are you dressed as?”

“I’m Barbie in the Nutcracker and Stacie is a Snowflake!”

“You both look amazing! Did you get the costumes from a store?”

“No, our mum made them for us.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Does your mum love Barbie?” Both of them nodded.

Seeing Dieter basically go into protective dad mode was so sweet and endearing that suddenly the thought of him holding an imaginary daughter came into your head. You knew if you had a little girl that she would be loved and protected by this man. The thought became overwhelming, and you were feeling faint. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You have never wanted to have a baby before but now this sudden desire felt strange and foreign; you weren’t sure if it was nice but the thought of Dieter being a father made it feel safe and almost normal. You splashed some water on your face and it helped a little, so you made your way back to the cinema. Dieter sent a message that he was inside and had saved you a seat. Kelly, the little girl waved at you from the back of her seat and Dieter joined in the waving.

“Are you okay?” you nodded as you sat next to him. He pulled the armrest up and snuggled you close.

The movie was everything; beautiful, full of life and colour. You absolutely loved Barbieland and wished to live there. When lawyer Barbie did her little speech about having no difficulty holding both logic and emotion at the same time and it doesn’t diminish her powers but expands them you almost teared up because it felt so real to your spirit, and you wished people would see you that way. There was so much for everyone to relate to.

“Oh my god, I’m totally Allen!” you had to agree with your boyfriend.

The fight between the Kens was your absolute favourite. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so loud and free in public. The musical number in the middle of the fight just made sense and the song stayed in your head long after and you were sure Dieter was going to learn the entire dance number. And then finally, you were in tears at the end when Barbie wanted to be a real person.

“You’re crying,” Dieter said, “I’m guessing that means you liked it?”

“I don’t think I’ve related more to a non-horror film in my life.”

You had gathered in the cinema lobby, Stacie and Kelly were buzzing around you, sharing in the excitement of the film.

“Was that amazing or was that amazing?!”

“Amazing!” both of them squeed.

Kelly tugged on her sister’s skirt and motioned to the cardboard cutout displayed in the lobby.

“Can we get a picture with you?” she asked Dieter. He went through a series of silly poses with both girls and then made sure to get a few with you. You said your thanks and farewells and made your way to through the carpark.

“You know, if they were ever going to do a live action Powerpuff Girls film, that is how they should do it.”

“I’d love to be in that film.”

“You’d be amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” You felt his hands wandering and you gave him the look reminding him that you were in public.

“When we get home, remember?”

“I remember,” he kissed you, “But you’re keeping the dress on.”

“Well you’re keeping the suit on.”

“Can my pants come off?” you nodded.

*****

Barbara was glad her daughters had enjoyed the film but even more important, she was glad they got home safely.

“So did Chad tolerate the film?”

“He didn’t see it, he left, in fact we’re not together anymore. I’m worth more than that.”

Barbara gave a tutt of approval, glad that her daughter finally saw that she was worth more than that boy.

“There was a Ken there with his Barbie,” Kelly was bubbling.

“We met a nice couple is what she means,” Stacie confirmed.

“And she was pretty and likes scary films and he was really pink. They’re going to get married.”

“I don’t think they were engaged.”

“They’ll get married. I know it.”

Stacie got out her phone to show her mum the photos they took. Barbara took the phone and looked at the photos with a stunned look on her face.

“Wait, that’s Dieter Bravo!”

Stacie and Kelly looked at their mother in confusion.

“Who?”

Films referenced: Barbie (2023), Oppenheimer (2023)

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic

[ccscocoapuffs]

Johnathan Byers NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Johnathan is the absolute sweetest after sex. He runs a bath for you both and occasionally even lights candles for y'all in the bathroom.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jonathan loves his hands. He loves being able to feel you and hold your hand in his. Johnathan loves your eyes. He thinks you have the most stunning eyes he has ever seen. He begs you to let him take close up pictures of you just so he can see your eyes.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Johnathan likes to cum either on your back or inside. He doesn't really like things to be to messy but he does like the look of his cum on your skin occasionally.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Johnathan carries around dirty photos of you in his bag. They make him feel like your all his.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Very little. We all know the only girl he's been with is Nancy. HE has some experience there but he still could learn a thing or two.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Missionary is his favorite. He's pretty vanilla when it comes to positioning but occasionally, he likes doggystyle for a little something different.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's usually a little giggly afterwards but during the sex itself, he stays very intimate within the moment and tend to keep all attention on you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He shaves he likes to keep it tamed and cleaned up.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He loves to be intimate with you and keep it romantic and soft between you guys.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates often. He prefers to do it in his room while looking at all the pictures of and him together.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Wax very light bondage

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) His room he thinks its the best place for intimacy and privacy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) He loves his neck to be kissed and underneath his jawline. It's an instant turn on for him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anal....he's just not down for it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving to giving just because he doubts his skills at giving head in general. He's actually quite good at it but he doubts himself none the less.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes slow and soft.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Johnathan doesn't really like quickies. He prefers taking his time with you and having the full experience.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He is okay with slightly experiment with things like, blindfolds. However, he doesn't like being super risky with things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Johnathan can for about 2 rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Johnathan owns a small vibrator that he uses both on you and himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Johnathan doesn't tease a whole lot in general. However, when you two are in private he tends to tease with neck kisses and wandering hands.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Johnathan is a whimperer. He tends to whimper more high pitched than he moans at all.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He likes to film you two.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Johnathan is about 6 inches

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Kinda low oddly enough. He likes to have sex maybe once or twice a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Pretty quickly. Johnathan likes to cuddle up to you and let you play in his hair while he falls asleep.

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

AHHHH IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ELSE REALIZES MICHAEL IS SO MICH LIK JD FROM HEATHERSSS ESP THE MUSICAL VERSION ☝🏻 ALSO YOU WERE MEANT TO BE MINE WOULD DEF FIT YANDERE MICHAEL!! sorry i’m just kinda excited 😓💗

LISTEN I LOVE MICHAEL. HE REMINDS ME OF THIS KID I WENT TO HIGHSCHOOL WITH WHO ALSO REMINDED ME OF JD

Anyways, Meant to be Yours is my absolute favorite song from the musical, so I had so much fun writing this one. I don’t really know how to write yandere, so I did try my hardest, but don’t be disappointed if it’s not yandere enough 🤣

PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS STORY

FALSE SEWERSLIDE IS MENTIONED!! I DO NOT WRITE ACTUAL SEWERSLIDE. FOR THE SAKE OF THE FIC ONLY, IT’S PURELY BASED ON THE EVENTS THAT HAPPEN IN THE FILM AND THE MUSICAL. THIS FIC IS VERY HEAVILY TRIGGER WARNINGED! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TWICE!

Warnings: firearms, mentions of guns, an actual gun description once or twice, faking of sewerslide (yes, just like in the scene in both the movie and musical), extreme violence in the name of society, mention of bombs, mention of terrorist act

~~~~~~~~~~

It had finally come. The night of the pep rally was here and you were in your bedroom, getting ready to go spend time with Heidi after pushing her to the back burner. Your ex boyfriend took up all your time, but now that you’ve broke things off with that psycho, you wanted to work on repairing your friendship with the brunette. You had just walked out of your bathroom after taking a shower, wasting no time in getting dressed and sitting at your vanity to take care of your hair and face.

You had just began to comb through your hair when your brush slipped from your grasp, falling to the floor. Looking up, you groaned in frustration, your eyes flicking to your phone to check the time. You were already running behind, and it seemed like the universe just wanted to keep you from getting to the school gym on time. Bending down from your seat, you grabbed the handle of your brush, straightening your back as you looked back to the mirror of your vanity.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you noticed an all too familiar figure had appeared seemingly out of no where. You stood up quickly, turning to face the figure as if to shield your back from him. “Michael?!” you exclaimed, disbelief running through your system. The tall male smiled at you, striding to your shocked form. “It’s me, in the flesh. I know, shocking, right? I figured you needed a while to calm down from your episode the other day.” he stated, reaching his hand up to graze your cheek softly.

You flinched away, your eyebrows furrowing in anger. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, Michael! You’re insane.” you said coldly, glaring at the taller male. He just looked at you with an unimpressed look on his face. He sighed, looking to the side and around your room. He made his way over to your bed, perching himself of the side of it. “Insane? What do you call yourself then?” he questioned, turning his attention to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came out. In a way, what he was insinuation was right. He was twisting your words in the way he always did when he wanted to prove his was right. Instead, you chose to ignore his words, not wanting to play into his mind games.

“Michael, for the last time, get. Out. Of. My. Room. Get out of my fucking house, and get out of my life!” you snapped, never faltering in your stance. He looked at you, an unreadable look on his face. You could see his eyes were sizing you up, but you couldn’t discern the emotion rest of his face. He scoffed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. “I don’t think this whole spat we’re having right now is gonna end in the way either of us want it to. So why don’t we just forget about everything that’s happened and start over?” Michael announced, holding his hand out. “Greetings and salutations.” he finished, his signature smirk on his face.

You stared at him incredulously. “You’re a psychotic asshole,” were the only words that fell from your mouth. His face dropped for a moment, before he started laughing. “Come on, (Y/n)! Let’s go to that stupid rally and put everything behind us.” he coaxed, standing from your bed. It was in that moment that you finally noticed the gun in his hand, finger resting lazily on the trigger. With minimal thinking, you darted into your closet, shutting your door and making a makeshift lock. You pulled a pile of clothes over you, hiding in the safety of the dark room. His familiar foot steps sounded until they were just outside of the closed door. “All is forgiven, baby! Come on, get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight!”

You chucked me out like I was trash

For that you should be dead..

But!

But!

But!

Then it hit me like a flash

What if high school went away instead?

Those assholes are the key!

They're keeping you away from me!

They made you blind, messed up your mind

But I can set you free!

Your heart raced and your mind ran a mile a minute. Away from all of his delusions for a few days, you wracked your brain trying to decipher his words. Messed up your mind? The only one who’s messed up your mind was him. He was the one who ruined your mind. It was Michael and his actions that deluded your mind. You always thought clearly until he metaphorically got you in a chokehold over him. You stared intently out the door, like a prey waiting for the predator on the other side to break the door down.

You left me and I fell apart

I punched the wall and cried..

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside!

And so I built a bomb

Tonight our school is Vietnam!

Let's guarantee they'll never see their senior prom!

Your eyes widened. You felt like you were going to throw up at his haunting words. You slowly slid your hands down to feel your pockets, searching for your phone to call the cops, to call Heidi, to call your parents, to just let someone know what was going on. Your heart dropped as you remembered it was sitting on your vanity. Cursing yourself for not grabbing it, tears flowed endlessly down your cheeks. Your mind raced at the thought of all of the other innocent people who were in mortal danger just a few blocks away from your house. His shoes blocked the light coming in from the bottom of the closet, signaling he was still just waiting beyond the door, torturing you with his presence.

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

Don't give up on me now!

Finish what we've begun!

I was meant to be yours!

Michael was absolutely delusional. And so were you when you were with him. He filled your brain with so much senseless bullshit that you actually believed he was doing good for the world. Now that you dropped the honeymoon phase, you realized just how sick in the head he was. The times he broke into your room out of no where, the cruel jokes he would play on the popular kids, the way he would gaslight you into believing that nothing was wrong. And now he was attached to you, just like a parasite to an unsuspecting animal.

So when the high school gym goes BOOM with everyone inside..

Pkhw!

Pkhw!

Pkhw!

In the rubble of their tomb

We'll plant this note explaining why they died!

We, the students of Westerburg High

Will die

Our burnt bodies may finally get through

To you

Your society churns out slaves and blanks

No thanks

Signed the Students of Westerburg High

'Goodbye.'

He was planning on blowing up the whole school as an act of protest. To turn around and shove some senseless notion into the face of people who didn’t care while taking the lives of over 200 people. And he wanted you to be there with him, amongst the group of those who are about to meet their untimely demise.

We'll watch the smoke pour out the doors

Bring marshmallows

We'll make s'mores!

We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!

It was even worse than you thought. He wanted you to sit from afar and watch with him as the blaze engulfed the school and its surrounding area. And he wanted s’mores? You had to do something to get out of here and clear out the school before he got there. Anything to warn somebody out there that they were in danger. Racking your brain, you looked around your closet, looking for a weapon of some sort. Your eyes instead landed on a scarf, and you knew what you had to do to escape your psychotic ex-boyfriend.

On the other side of the door, Michael had his forehead pressed against your closet door. His heart was also thumping in his chest, but not out of fear. Oh no, he was angry. He was angry with the school, angry with society, angry with you. So incredibly mad that you just brushed him off after all he had done for you. He had murdered for you just to show how much you are worth to him. And now you’re taking it back and trying to throw him out. He wasn’t going to stop until you had come out of hiding and came to watch the show.

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

I can't take it alone!

Finish what we've begun!

YOU WERE MEANT TO BE MINE!

I AM ALL THAT YOU NEED!

YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART!

CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED!

Michael reached out, gripping the door knob of your closet. He jiggled the door handle, expecting it to open easily. There was no leeway, and his anger steadily rose at your prolonged refusal to his offer. He looked to his other hand, at the gun he had brought with him. An idea rose to his brain, and he pointed the muzzle at the handle. He was going to get in, one way or another, and he didn’t care if he had to break the damn door down himself. Remembering you were in there, he lowered it, coming to his senses. He really didn’t want to hurt you. He loved you far too much to cause you any harm. He resumed to knocking on the door, sweetly pleading for you to open it.

(Y/n), open the- open the door, please

(Y/n), open the door

(Y/n), can we not fight anymore, please

Can we not fight anymore

(Y/n), sure, you're scared

I've been there. I can set you free!

(Y/n), don't make me come in there!

His anger was rising as you kept your silence. If he could just see you, just talk to you long enough to get you back on good terms with him, that’s all he wanted. He’d leave this town if it would make you happy, but he wanted to know that you weren’t angry with him anymore. He just wanted a peace of mind, to show that no matter how you felt about him, he’d always love you. He raised his gun again, pointing it at the handle.

I'm gonna count to three!

One!

Two!

Fuck it!

Horror ran across his face at your lifeless body hanging from the ceiling. He walked to you, falling to his knees.

Oh my God... No! (Y/n)!

Please don't leave me alone

You were all I could trust

I can't do this alone

He stared up at you, even in death, your face looked so sweet, so soft. Tears rolled down his eyes as he looked he looked on. He stood up, reaching out and grabbing your hand. He pressed his lips against your hand, setting it by your side gently. He was gonna get revenge for this. On who, he didn’t care, but he wasn’t going to stop until he felt like your life was worth its waste.

STILL I WILL IF I MUST…

He left the same way he came in, through the window. Tonight was gonna be the night he would remember forever.

As soon as he had left, your bedroom door opened. Your mother had come in, carrying some of your favorite snacks. “(Y/n)! I brought you a snack!” she called out. Looking around, she noticed your empty bedroom. She didn’t think you had left, so she walked in a little further, looking around for you. She stepped just behind your closet door, which she noticed was open. Swinging the door the rest of the way, she called your name once again before letting out a loud shriek.

You snapped your head up, holding your arms out to your mom. “Mom, mom, mom, it’s okay, I’m okay!” you fussed, your mom staring at you in shock, one hand clutched over her chest, the other still balancing your snack. You untied a part of the scarf from your waist, dropping to your feet and rushing to your mom. “I was just practicing for the day I run away and join the circus. Speaking of running away, thanks for the snack, but I gotta run! Emergency at the gym, I’ll explain everything later!” you shouted, running past your still shocked mother and out of the house. You were determined to get to the school before Michael did so you can repay all the karma that you owe, and you weren’t scared if you had to go down with him.

[sunoooism]

📜ADMIT IT!— six.

❝just out here living vicariously through my novel!❞

mlist

I rushed this a bit sorry 💀💀, this update was delayed bcs I've been really busy with school and stuff. hopefully I'll be back to updating once or twice a week now!!

Day 2 of Yokohama

your second day in Yokohama was spent relaxing in the hotel, watching whatever shitty film or TV show was available. the best thing you could find at the moment was 'Kubo and the Two Strings' which you remembered Kuina recommending to you years ago. she kept pestering you about it until you got fed up and lied about watching it, saying 'oh, yeah! I loved it!' if there was any time to actually watch it, it would be now you supposed.

as Chishiya showered and carried on with his night routine you were sprawled out across your bed in an oversized sleep shirt and shorts you borrowed stole from Ann. the movie had been good so far but it made you wonder why all children in kids films always have such sad backstories.

by the time Shuntaro had emerged from the bathroom you had fallen asleep atop his pillow that you had also borrowed stolen. usually this would irritate the life out of him even if it was Kuina, but staring down at you and the little bit of drool smeared across your lip, he couldn't really find it in himself to be annoyed with you.

Day 3 of Yokohama

Chishiya had suggested a walk through the streets of Yokohama, and since you couldn't think of anything else to do instead you agreed. unfortunately you ended up on a busy pavement with people bumping into you two left and right. and even more unfortunate for you there were countless couples everywhere you looked. this left you only slightly upset and dejected by your love life, or more specially the lack-thereof.

Day 4 of Yokohama

Day 5 of Yokohama

your day was spent with another outing into town accompanied by Chishiya, and along the way desperate texts to your multiple friends asking for advice on what to do about your Chishiya Shuntaro issue.

you had just finished harassing Kyuma for advice when the man on your right pulled you into a movie theater. apparently his favourite film was playing. who knew he was into thrillers?

well to be completely honest you didn't know if it was a thriller, as cliché as it sounds you were too busy admiring Chishiya to pay attention and or care. to say you thought of him as ugly would be a lie, and while you had never thought too hard on the subject you were now questioning whether or not he had always been this enticing.

you had no doubt he knew you were staring, if he didn't you would be astonished to no end, but what confused you was the fact that he wasn't calling you out for it. usually if something like this happened he would mercilessly taunt and tease whoever he caught. but he seemed to be content, pleased, even with this outcome. you could see the small smirk itching to pass over his features.

your big question was, why?

Day 6 of Yokohama

day six in the city was spent exploring small, aesthetically pleasing shops. so far you had gotten a couple books, a new sage green scarf and snacks for you and Chishiya to share while you were out.

your final destination was Yokohama park. you had once told your friend group you adored a view of flowers and trees to pass the day. that was years ago though, apparently Chishiya had remembered. so you both sat on a wall watching people pass by and cracking jokes, by your opinions it might have been the best day there.

Last day of Yokohama

although Chishiya had been strangely tolerable this past week, in no way were you complaining. but you knew he would probably revert back to normal when you were around your other friends again and for some reason that didn't bother you. you had gotten used to his snarky remarks after a while and it felt strange now that he was softer.

for your last day in Yokohama you had agreed to go to a restaurant for dinner, it wasn't too fancy but at the same time wasn't completely horrible either. It had good reviews so you both thought, why not right?

you were both sat in a booth tucked in at the very back of the room. the tables surrounding you mainly consisted of young couples having a romantic night out, a lady squealed as her partner brought out a bouquet and leapt up to smother him in affection. was the world just out to make fun of your non existent love life this week?

"I've enjoyed our time together, Y/n. I hope we can plan things like this more often, it's quieter without Arisu complaining all the time" his statement caught you off guard, and with your new found feelings for the man it made your stomach flutter a bit at the thought of spending more time with him. "I liked this week too. thank you for sacrificing your back account to make me happy this week, I really appreciate it.

next time it's my turn"

Next - Previous

©sunoooism

tags: @captivq @happyjuhyun @yvrikoo @mxbrahms @huachengsbestie01 @rainqissedd @brdpch @ehddsnys @kokxm1 @naegisimp @luvvsnae @bowscale @hy0ukka @trinmadol @saiewithakatana @bre99 @kazuhacumslut @fiqire @mazeinthemoon

[tomcat-radio]

Some disjointed thoughts on the bathroom scene/needle in the hay scene from The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

ok first up, major tw for suicide/suicide attempt, and spoiler for The Royal Tenenbaums (do I need to spoiler warning for a movie from 20+ years ago, I don't know). If you haven't seen the Royal Tenenbaums go watch it and come back to this, hell, watch it twice if you want.

I geniunely believe the bathroom scene from The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most interesting and important scenes in Wes Anderson's entire portfolio. It might seem insigificant if you watch his movies from oldest to newest, but if you go backwards you might notice some stuff. A lot of the darker moments of his films are still coated in a layer of whimsy and a lot of his typical aestheticism, especially in his newer stuff. Not that that's a criticism at all. But when you look at the bathroom scene it has this unique rawness to it that I've never really seen anywhere else in all his movies. It feels like all of the layers that his characters tend to sheild their emotions with have suddenly and viscerally been ripped away. And the visuals of this scene contribute to it too, it's two things not often seen in Wes Anderson movies: very saturated and somewhat dark/has dimmer lighting. The bathroom feels so out of place in a way that really makes you sit up and go "oh shit, something's happening", the music too, not only does the song choice never fail to make me sob, but the way it stays quiet as Richie stares into the camera and cuts his hair off, and at the final moment of tentsion as his life flashes infront of his eyes the background music slowly grows louder, climaxing as he bleeds onto the tiles before finally stopping abruptly.

The scene itself is truly one of the best scenes Wes Anderson has under his belt too, despite bringing me closer to tears every single time I happen to watch it. Something that'll always stick in my mind is the exact moment Richie Tenenbaum takes off his glasses, the first time in almost the whole film where we properly see his eyes. Richie is a character that has been hiding, both literally seperating himself on humanity by living on a boat for the last four years before the beginning of the film, but also mentally. He's clearly bottling up all his emotions and problems throughout the film (symbolised by the sunglasses, long hair, beard, even margot's line "stand up straight, let me get a look at you") until he cracks under the weight of them and we get, well, the bathroom scene. Seeing his eyes not only, as the saying goes, gives us a window into his soul, but also truly communicates the amount of pain he's in. Pain that's beyond margot, beyond Royal's betrayal of him, and deep within himself.

Richie never finishes shaving, and in my opinion it's a nod to the fact that he himself as a person is unfinished, unresolved, incomplete. Even his plans lay incomplete with the death that would have met him if he wasn't found by Dudley. His only line in the scene is simply "I'm going to kill myself tomorrow" unfinished because well, he tries to that day. Richie to me is one of the most interesting characters in the movie, if not the most. I didn't think that on my first watch-through, but as I watched the movie again and again it quickly became my opinion. He's someone who unlike Chas and Margot is holding onto an idealised version of his childhood, still mentally stuck there and unwilling to believe Royal as a bad person because of the blurred vision of him that he saw as a kid. His concept of human connection is as equally broken as Margots but instead of filling the empty abyss left by it with unpassionate affairs such as her, he cuts himself off from society, and once he's ripped away from and pulled back into the very family he always thought of as a perfect world he breaks just a little more.

I find his relationship with Margot very interesting too, as I don't belive it's simply a case of "these two flawed people are doing something socially unacceptable because they're flawed". Infact, from Richie's point of view I don't even believe it's romantic. Margot and Richie clearly became codependent on eachother from a very young age due to the childhood they were put through by Royal and to a lesser extent Etheline, and as they grew into emotionally broken people with twisted ideas of love and connection they mistook their relationship for romantic love instead of a platonic relationshop, because that's the only way they know to express a close platonic relationship. Being reuinited with Margot is the only thing keeping Richie together throughout the film and when he learns of all her infidelity he unravels immediately something that was hinted at, began to slip through when Richie puts his hand through the bird cage after Raleigh shares with him his suspicions of margot cheating, he's lost his last coping mechanism in other words.

And so we return again to the bathroom scene, hopefully this helped whoever may be reading it appreciate such a tragic scene a little more, or maybe it just made it sadder, I'm not sure. Stay safe out there and remember that help is always available and things will get better.

[diematrosen]

Barbenheimer: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Moviegoing Again

When I first heard that Greta Gerwig's Barbie and Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer were being released on the same day - July 21, 2023 - I didn't think much of it. After all, wildly disparate movies have been released on the same date before, and in an era before MCU/Disney dominated theaters, cineplexes had a variety of films that catered to many different audiences. The smash superhero sequel The Dark Knight and the ABBA-inspired musical comedy Mamma Mia! were both released on July 18, 2008, but social media was much less of a thing back then. (I've never seen Mamma Mia!, but my Dad and I did see TDK opening weekend.) Honestly? Initially, I didn't think people were really going to see both films on the same day, I thought people were joking. Boy was I wrong.

On their own, both films would have been hits with built-in audiences (love him or hate him, Nolan sure has dedicated fans). But by July 2023, the hype around the Barbenheimer phenomenon had gone nuclear. There were memes, T-shirts, and people bought tickets to see both movies in theaters on the same day, or at least the same weekend. The two have little in common, besides being high-profile studio films starring non-American actors as very American subjects, but that didn't matter.

On opening weekend, my friend and I saw a 70mm print of Oppenheimer on Saturday and a sold-out screening of Barbie on Sunday at the Village East theater in Manhattan, with a day break in-between. We had initially only planned to see the former, but even I was swept up by Barbie mania (I also enjoyed Gerwig's two previous films). There was an energy at the movie theater that I had not felt in a very long time outside of repertory cinema - people were genuinely excited to be there. When I was in line for the bathroom, a woman in front of me joked that you could tell who was there to see which movie. Lots of people in pink, Barbies and Kens abound, and even a few men (and one woman) dressed like J. Robert Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb. I did not dress up and I don't care much for the color pink, but it was still fun! It was a record-breaking box office weekend for both films - one a fantasy comedy about the world's most famous doll, the other a 3-hour doomy historical drama showing in premium large formats including IMAX. After a decade and a half of Marvel fare dominating theaters, this was a game-changer. Were superhero movies in their early '90s hair metal era?

I worked at a few movie theaters in suburban New Jersey in the 2000s, and this felt like a return to an era when word of mouth reigned supreme and people got dressed up for midnight screenings (people did this at a screening for one of the Harry Potter films, no lie). The hype also reminded me a bit of Titanic, which dominated the box office in 1997-98 when I was in 8th grade and everyone talked about it (weirdly enough, I did not see it until it was in a second run theater for some reason). But three years after the beginning of the pandemic, I was ready to go back to the movies - one of my favorite pastimes. I had seen a few films in theaters since 2022, once I was fully vaccinated and boosted, but this felt like a new beginning.

I enjoyed both movies and have now seen them twice (including an IMAX 70mm screening of Oppenheimer - if you have the opportunity to see it in this format, do it!). Barbie is charming and fun, with eye-popping production design and costumes and nods to directors like Jacques Demy. Margot Robbie (bringing humanity to a plastic doll) and Ryan Gosling are fantastic, and the film is a genuine crowd-pleaser. Oppenheimer is an intense, well-crafted drama with a few jaw-dropping sequences and a great, controlled performance by Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer and a stacked cast. The editing by Jennifer Lame is phenomenal, and this might be the best work of Nolan's career. To date, Barbie has crossed the billion dollar mark worldwide, and Oppenheimer has made over $500 million globally - a huge deal for an R-rated talky period piece. Is this the beginning of better, more diverse movies in multiplexes across the world? Or just a weird fluke? Possibly the latter, but we'll see.

That said, the films aren't for everyone. I know people who have seen Barbie but have no interest in Oppenheimer, and that's okay! And if you don't care about either, I would recommend the documentary The Day After Trinity followed by Todd Haynes' Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story as an alternative, at-home Barbenheimer. It's just nice to see people excited about going to the movies again.

[queenshelby]

Oppenheimer (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Fluff, COVID (that will be relevant later on)

Words: 2,050

You jumped out of your bed and had a look what your sister was on about. The previous night, Cillian had cancelled your run for the morning and you were naïve enough to think that you could sleep in for once. But, apparently not.

Your sister had a phobia of spiders and you knew that you had to get rid of whatever was lurking in the shower to prevent her from waking up the entire house.

Sharing a room with one of your sisters for four months was something you didn’t enjoy but, considering that you needed to work, you didn’t mind so much as you were rarely at home.

That was, at least, until you were woken up the way you were.

Stepping into the bathroom with half open eyes, you quickly removed the creepy crawler before walking into the kitchen and making yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father had already been up, exercising and making himself breakfast and you knew that, since this was the last day before filming officially commenced, he was nervous.

There had already been a delay of three days due to COVID and your father was getting rather frustrated with the studio about all the additional obligations that were imposed upon him and the crew.

It was a nightmare to navigate through this end tail of the pandemic but everyone on set was on board with the changes and procedures which was all that mattered.

COVID tests had to be taken twice per week by all members of the cast and crew and anyone who tested positive had to go into isolation along with people who the COVID marshal considered close contacts.

Close contacts were usually only people who, in the case of filming, were working on rather intimate scenes together or were spending an excessive amount of time together.

It all made sense but it was also rather frustrating as now not only the assistant director but also one of the make-up artists were out of action.

‘It will be fine dad’ you told him as you observed the look on your father’s face while he scrolled through his emails.

‘Yes, it will be fine. But it’s still a giant pain in the arse no one fucking needs’ he growled just as your mother barged through the door.

‘Jesus Chris, watch your language!’ she spat before getting ready for the day.

‘Do you want to come shopping with me Y/N?’ she asked but you had planned to relax before things were getting too busy again tomorrow and, going shopping, wasn’t usually something you found relaxing.

‘No thanks Ma. I think I will stay here, read a book and go for a swim in the pool’ you told her and so you did.

You stripped off your clothes after having brushed your teeth and then changed into your black and somewhat basic but revealing bikini.

You loved the water and, after taking a dive into the pool, you began to swim your laps for the day.

Focusing on your strokes, you suddenly heard a familiar voice, greeting you from the side of the pool.

‘Hey’ Cillian said, standing next to your father who was evidentially waiting for you.

‘Hey’ you responded before swimming over towards the edge of the pool where Cillian and your father were standing.

‘What’s up?’ you then asked as they had both been looking at you.

‘We need your help, please. Your mother has put part three of the script somewhere. I can’t find it. Do you know where it is? We are changing the filming schedule because of Lucas’s absence’ your father explained and you quickly nodded before using the muscles in your arms to lift yourself out of the pool.

You got out over the edge where Cillian and your father were standing and stood up, leaving a wet puddle behind.

Then, you walked over towards one of the armchairs next to the pool and quickly dried yourself off with a towel.

As you did, you felt Cillian’s eyes on you. He was starring at you and it felt almost like he couldn’t help himself. What was he starring at, you wondered? Your ass? Your legs? Probably your ass. It must have been your ass.  

Either way you didn’t mind and Cillian followed you into the house like a shy little schoolboy while your father took an incoming call on his mobile phone.

‘New lines to rehearse, hmm?’ you asked as you walked towards your mother’s office with Cillian in tow.

He didn’t respond and then you turned around.

‘Cillian?’ you chuckled. He was clearly daydreaming and you had probably just interrupted his wild running thoughts.

‘Uhm, yeah…what?’ he then stammered all of a sudden. Clearly, he was still not with you when he responded and, as you stood in front of him, you could tell that he was trying very hard not to stare at your breasts.

‘Never mind’ you giggled before picking up the script from your mother’s desk and handing it to him with a smile. You didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought and, for all you knew, he may have been daydreaming about you.

‘Let me know if you need help with it. There is an experiment on page ten or so which I am happy to explain to you and, then, on page 38, there is some more scientific stuff you might need a hand with’ you pointed out and, for some reason, Cillian’s eyes were still fixating on one spot of your body, which was a spot he shouldn’t be looking at in the way he did.

‘Could you show him the experiment today? Because, according to the studio, we are shooting this scene tomorrow’ your father said, interrupting you and Cillian after he got off the phone with his boss and Cillian, once again, snapped out of his daydream.

‘Yeah sure. What time Cillian?’ you asked, hoping that he was listening to you this time around rather than just starring at your breasts.

‘I will need a few hours to study my lines. Maybe at 5 o’clock at the lab on set? Does that work for you?’ he asked and, of course, you agreed.

***

Later that day, at five o’clock, you met Cillian at the lab which was a prob on set that had been specifically designed for two scenes.

The prob was set up like a real laboratory but without actual chemicals being used, making it a bit more challenging for you to ensure that the experiments that were to be filmed were going to look realistic.

As usual, you began your rehearsal by Cillian reading out his lines and acting his part. Again, he had his lines down packed but what he struggled with was how to hold the veils in order to get the chemical reaction that was required. Just like in real laboratories, they had to be closed and shaken in a certain way and this is why you were there, to show him. You needed to make sure that, what he was doing, looked right and authentic and Cillian required just that little bit of help to get it right.

‘Here, let me show you’ you told him after he a had a few goes and, after he nodded, you stepped up behind him and placed one of your hands onto his, moving the test tube.

‘There is a specific way to shake the test tube in order to get the reaction and required effect for the scene because we aren’t using real chemicals here’ you explained as you moved his hand from side to side gently.

His hand was so warm and soft that you didn’t want to let go of it but you knew that, eventually, you had to.

Breathing in his scent was almost too much for you to bear and, as you touched his hand gently, you could even see some goose bumps form on his skin.

You were so close to him, your arm pressed against his, his hairs tingling against your skin and, with that, you eventually lost your train of thought.

‘Y/N? What’s next?’ Cillian chuckled before placing the test tube on to the small wooden stand and turning around slightly to face you.

‘I don’t know’ you merely managed to stammer out as your hand slowly moved away from his.

‘You don’t know?’ Cillian asked quietly, seeing how nervous you had become all of a sudden.

‘I lost my thought’ you then admitted, earning you a smile.

‘It’s alright, I just forget my lines too, so…uhm…let’s start again?’ Cillian then began to say and, in that moment of honesty, his deep blue eyes locked with yours and you inhaled sharply.

‘Or not?’ he then stammered when you did not respond. There was so much sexual tension between you and when Cillian ran one of his hands over your cheek gently, you knew that you had to let go off it.

You gathered all of your courage and leaned forwards slightly and, just as you did, he did the same.

Without further thought, your lips finally met in a tentative kiss but the kiss didn’t remain tentative for long.

You parted your lips after only a second or two, allowing Cillian to invade your mouth with his tongue and so he did.

His lips were soft and warm and his tongue was skilled, swirling around yours gently as he cupped your face with both of his hands. His kiss and touch sent a quiver down your spine, with rainfall of endorphins & adrenaline all inside your mind. Pure bliss. Pure heaven.

This is what you had been fantasising about and now it was finally happening.

The firecracker of that kiss continued with Cillian cutely biting your lips, with each gentle bite giving explosions of pleasure to you.

Cillian’s warm and sweet saliva was like nectar, which lathered and drenched your lips, which were now red as a cherry because of all the sensitive touches.

Your tensed back was eventually being touched by Cillian’s fingers, as he swayed his hands all over your back and you loved every sensation he gave you.

It was the slowest that you had ever experienced time passing and your mind was playing songs for you. God, he was a good kisser you thought. His lips were incredible and, as you continued to kiss passionately and hungrily, Cillian was treated to nail scratches on his neck by your nails as you pulled him even closer and, after you were both breathing in each other's aromas through your intimate kiss, the kiss was eventually broken by the both of you for a big gasp of air.

You both had to breathe to calm your racing hearts and red flushed faces. The longest, deepest stare was then followed, as two souls went into an oblivious attachment.

But, despite the mutual attraction, neither of you had any words for each other about what had just happen.

‘Uhm…Cillian’ was all you were able to say after several moments of silence but, by this point, Cillian’s demur had changed. He no longer smiled but, instead, looked rather concerned.

‘Fuck, I am sorry, but I can’t do this Y/N. This was wrong…it’s a mistake…’ Cillian blurted out all of a sudden as if panic had set into his mind.

‘I am confused Cillian. So, you didn’t really want to kiss me?’ you asked somewhat annoyed and saddened.

‘I wanted to kiss you. In fact, I have wanted to kiss you like this for fucking days. But, I shouldn’t have. You are Chris’s daughter and I am almost twice your age. We should forget about this, alright?’ Cillian suggested running his thumb over your cheek again.

‘So, you want us to pretend that this kiss never happened?’ you asked while pushing his hand away from your face.

‘Yes’ was all he said in response, earning him a sigh of frustration.

‘Okay, sure…fine’ you then said before stepping away from him.

‘Let’s finish this scene, shall we?’ you then suggested and, when Cillian nodded and went on with his rehearsal, you knew that this was it. It was a mistake.

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[handsomelyhiddleston]

Sticky Notes - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

It all started on the set of Ragnarok. They hadn’t even started filming yet. Table reads, choreography, costume fittings, set development…The cast, crew, and even Taika started finding little notes.

Some were specifically to certain people…

“Your laugh is contagious. Thank you for making this set so down to earth and inviting.” You slipped that into Taika’s (the director’s) fanny pack when he left it on his director’s chair.

“I know how hard you’ve been working on your fight choreography, and I just wanted to let you know you absolutely killed it today!” You left that stuck to Tessa’s (Valkyrie’s) water bottle.  

Some you posted for everyone, like “I know that you all put such amazing effort and time into bringing this movie to life and I just want you all to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed.” That note was posted above a table full of ‘easy to grab’ snacks you laid out such as protein bars, fruit snacks, pretzels, and dried fruit.

This continued well into filming. Everyone had tried to figure out who was leaving these little daily encouragements. It got to the point that Taika started calling you Casper, as in “Casper the Friendly Ghost.” Every day at the start of filming he would say. “Come on guys. Let’s make Casper proud.”

Everyone had a theory. Most thought that it was actually Taika just trying to keep morale up. Taika accused Tom but took it back after some comment about the notes not sounding very British.

Your job on set was to cast extras. While you were present daily, you honestly only had to meet with Taika once or twice a day to make sure the next day’s cast extras were ready. You two fell into an easy rhythm working together and he started asking for your opinion on some other aspects of the set. One late afternoon, after an incredibly chaotic day of filming, Taika decided that he was going to scrap the entire scene and start it over.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to you, Tom, and Chris. “Today can suck it. I’ve just watched the dailies, and something just isn’t right about that scene. Meet at mine in 30 so we can get ahead of it.” A few seconds later he added, “And for the love of God, someone bring some tequila.”

You laughed at his text, jogging to the trailer you shared with the other casting director. You changed into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt and grabbed your keys and wallet. You jumped in your car so you could make a quick trip to the Starbucks down the street since it appeared it was going to be a long night.

“One Venti iced coffee with milk and 1 sugar, one Grande Americano hot with cream and 2 sugars, one Venti hot latte with vanilla, and one Venti hot water with two earl gray tea bags and four sugars on the side. Can I also get one of the small kid’s milk boxes?” You heard the barista repeat your order back and pulled forward and paid.

When you got to Taika’s trailer, Tom and Chris were already there.

“Oh, bless you” Taika thanked you, taking the Latte from you.

“You’re the best” Chris said, taking the lid off of the Americano so it would cool off a bit.  

“Tom, I grabbed you tea.” You handed him the hot water and two tea bags, setting the sugars and milk next to him so he could make it to his liking.

“You’re too kind” Tom graciously took the hot water from you, noting that you grabbed his favorite kind of tea.

In Taika’s trailer there was a table with a bench on each side. Chris and Tom were sat on one side, leaving a space for you to sit next to Taika.

“Anyone grab the tequila?” you laughed, dropping your keys and wallet on Taika’s counter and sitting at the table with your iced coffee.

Taika grabbed the bottle and sat it down in front of you. “You’re already two swigs behind, love.”

“Bullshit” you laughed. “Prove it. Where are the shot glasses?”

“I said swigs, not shots” Taika smirked. “We don’t have shot glasses.”

“Look at how much is missing from that bottle. I just bought it.” Hemsworth backed Taika up.

You looked at Tom, knowing he would be honest with you.

“Hey, you trust Tom more than me?” Taika pretended to be offended.

“Tom always looks out for everybody. I don’t think he’d let me get two shots drunker than you fools.” You teased Taika, poking his side and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Watch” Taika said, putting his arm around your shoulders and looking towards Tom. “How many swigs did we all take?”

Tom laughed, “I’m sorry darling, but he’s telling you the truth.”  

“Fine, fine.” You opened the bottle and took three swigs, handing it to Taika. “Catch up, then.”

Tom started thinking about the compliment you had given him as he took his third swig of Tequila. He felt flattered that you felt that way, but it also reminded him of one of the notes he had found stuck to his trailer door.

“Okay, we need to re-block this whole scene. It just did not translate from script to screen…” The four of you worked on a few line changes and mapped out a better way to execute the scene for over two hours.

There was a bit of dialogue that Taika felt was getting lost that he really just didn’t want to let go of. “We may just have to mess with this tomorrow while we’re filming.”

“Or you could have Loki say it instead of Thor.” You suggested.

“Could do.” You could tell that Taika was thinking it over.

“Here you have Thor immediately going into another hard-hitting line” you explained. “If that line comes from Loki, it makes it less likely to get lost.”

“I think that will fix this problem too” Chris started underlining other parts of the dialogue.

“What do you think?” Taika looked at Tom.

“I mean, I personally think Loki has already evolved enough at that point in the script that it suits him quite nicely.” Tom explained in a way only Tom can explain.

“I agree” you said. “You guys make Loki grow quite a bit in this film and as usual, Tom is hitting it out of the park. I’m 100% confident he will have conveyed that message to the audience by this point.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Again, Tom was flattered. However, he was growing more and more suspicious that you were Casper.

“Always” you replied, smiling at Tom as you finished your coffee.

“Let me type this up and we can table read it.” Taika grabbed the papers and went to the other side of the trailer where his computer was set up.

“While you do that, I’m going to steal your restroom for a moment.” Chris stood, throwing his empty coffee cup away and closing the bathroom door. Chris joined Taika a moment later.

“Y/n?” Tom said, kind of quietly.

“What’s up?” Your elbows were resting on the table with your chin sat on your hands.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom didn’t want to bring it up in front of anyone. He didn’t want the notes to stop, but he had to know.

Tom looked a bit serious, but you didn’t know why. “Of course.”

“Are you…” He stopped, reaching his hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. “Is this you?”

Your eyes went wide as Tom pulled a small stack of pink sticky notes out of his wallet, laying them down next to each other. There must have been 10 of them in total. You were touched that he actually kept them. Sometimes you felt silly leaving them for people not knowing if they appreciated them. You tried to play it off, laughing. “I thought those were from Taika?”

He pointed at one of them, reading it quietly. “I tried the tea you always drink. I don’t think it could ever replace my love of coffee, but I wanted you to know it pairs well with a good book.” He pointed to another note. “I know you paid for everyone to Uber home after our last night out. I just wanted to tell you I appreciate you. Thank you for always looking out for us.” You could feel his eyes on you as he moved his hand to a third note. “I envy your ability to capture a room. You’ve got an amazing knack for making those watching you feel whatever emotion you’re trying to convey.” When Tom’s hand moved to the fourth note, you heard Taika’s printer turn on.

“Put them away” you said, trying to stack them quickly. Chris started walking towards you and you grabbed the small stack you had gathered and put them in your pocket.

Tom put the rest back in his wallet. “What do you think?” he asked Taika about the changes he had made.

“I think tomorrow is going to be a lot fuckin’ better.” He passed the printed copies around after joining the two of you back at the table.

Tom’s line went over great, and the dialogue flowed much more smoothly. All of the other changes made the scene feel more natural. When Taika called it a night, Chris laid down on the couch refusing to go back to his own trailer.

“Can I walk you to yours?” Tom asked as you stepped out of Taika’s trailer.

The two of you walked back to your trailer in comfortable silence, tired and a little drunk. When you got to the door, you turned around and pulled the pink notes out of your pocket.

“Please don’t tell anyone?” You placed the notes in Tom’s hand.

“I didn’t plan on it” he replied, tucking them neatly back into his wallet.

“I feel silly now that someone knows it was me. Why did you keep them?” You had to ask. You assumed, at most, that people read them, smiled, and threw them away.

“Hmm…” Tom laughed humorlessly, his eyes focused on his wallet. “I think you’re doing a lot more than you realize when you leave your ‘silly’ little notes.”

His response caught you off guard. He almost sounded…sad? Serious?

“Y/n, I’ve had to work with actors and crew that have made filming a project miserable. Whether they were rude or critical or just an absolute diva, there is always someone to bring the room down.” He put his wallet away and looked you in the eyes. “I wish you knew how many of us have kept these notes. Taika has them in the glovebox of his car. The catwalk above the set is covered in notes you’ve left the crew. They’re stuck all over the mirrors in the make-up trailer so that the cast sees them first thing in the morning.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

Tom put his hands on each of your arms as if to ensure you were paying attention. “An encouraging word or a genuine compliment can change someone’s entire day, y/n. You have no way of knowing what life has dealt any of these people. They could be depressed or stressed out or wishing they hadn’t woken up that morning…and all of a sudden they receive a tiny bit of kindness from someone and it makes it that much easier to get through another day. Maybe even with a smile on their face.”

Tom wore a soft smile and even though you felt a bit overwhelmed, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you for telling me that.” You moved towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Please don’t forget it.” Tom pulled back a bit and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope you get a good night’s sleep.”

“You, too.” You watched Tom walk away before slipping into your shared trailer.

Over the next few weeks, Tom had left you multiple green sticky notes with compliments written on them.

“You looked stunning yesterday”

“Thank you for still being a good listener when I go on rants about things you couldn’t care less about”

“Taika was bragging about you to someone on the phone. I just wanted you to know. I know sometimes you hesitate to suggest your ideas, but you shouldn’t.”

“I appreciate how much time you spend making this a better set to work on.”

“You are an incredible friend.”

You’d find at least one note a day and for every note he left you, you’d leave one for him. The two of you got quite a bit closer after he found out about your secret. You’d spend breaks on set together and often times wound up back in Taika’s trailer with him and Chris. You cuddled and flirted and shared more than a few loving glances, but you never went any further. It felt like it was turning into something more, but Tom was such a gentleman you couldn’t tell.

The note you found this morning, however, completely caught you off guard. The filming was almost done and everyone’s time on set was almost over. You had just sat down next to the director’s chair and opened your laptop. There, stuck to the screen, was a green sticky note. “Darling, would you please be mine?”

You looked up at Tom on stage only to find him already looking at you. He lifted his brow and tilted his head, waiting for your response. You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded ‘yes’.

Taika looked between you, noticing the interaction and intentionally teasing you. “Oi, what’s this then?”

Tom turned, trying to hide his grin by talking to Chris. You closed your laptop to hide the sticky note.

“Nah, I saw you two. Don’t pretend like I’m crazy.” Taika was still looking back and forth between you and Tom.

“Maybe you’re still drunk from last night” you teased, putting your laptop in its bag so you could retrieve the note later.

“Oh, sure.” He dropped it, knowing he’d bring it up tonight when you all gathered in his trailer.

The rest of the filming flew by crazy fast. You and Tom had decided that you would go stay with him in New York until the press junkets and interviews started. When the premier rolled around, you two were already publicly dating so you got to escort him down the red carpet. It had been just over a year since the two of you had started dating.

As the credits for the film started rolling, you felt like you were walking down memory lane. So many people go into making movies of this scale and watching all of the names roll by, one by one, really puts that into perspective. You’d met almost all of these people and worked closely with quite a few of them. As the credits came to an end, you saw that Taika had added an extra credit.

The last few “SPECIAL THANKS” credits were in order as listed…

“The filmmakers acknowledge the assistance of the New Zealand Government’s Screen Production Grant”

“The filmmakers would like to acknowledge the Yugambeh and Bundjalung Peoples of Australia”

“The director would like to thank ‘Casper’, Ragnarok’s own personal friendly ghost”

It had been a year since you’d written one of those notes and it caught you off guard. Tom put his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I told you.”

You and Tom mingled amongst your friends at the after party. Taika was flying. He was so happy with how it turned out and grateful for such a positive response. Everyone in the cast was telling stories from filming and catching up with their friends. By the time you two got back to your hotel room, you were blissfully tipsy and exhausted. You slipped out of your dress and threw on a baggy t-shirt before washing your face and getting ready for bed. When you left the bathroom, you saw Tom sitting on the edge of the bed in his pajamas with a soft, warm smile gracing his beautiful face. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was a mess and he could not have been more attractive if he tried.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling you to stand between his legs.

“Pretty good. How about yourself?” you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“I think there’s only one thing that could make me happier in this moment.” He answered.

You thought he was being a bit cheeky, so you replied with, “oh, yeah? I wonder what that could be.”

Tom reached behind him on the bed and pulled out a small box with a worn, green sticky note on top of it. He didn’t say anything, letting you read it. It was the same note he had left stuck to your laptop screen. “Darling, would you please be mine?” Only now the word “forever” was written at the bottom.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

[dollyrose00]

How they would react to hair day.

——————————————————

Mikey

◦ Setting up a precaution by having darken keep Mikey out of the house while you attempt to work on your hair.

◦ This set up fails when darken call you about how Mikey has escaped meaning he is finding his way back home. Y/n has JUST finished untangling the hair. Y/n only has half an hour top to wash it out before he arrives.

◦ Mikey comes back with bags filled with different hair products and food. He smiles as he hands over the bags hoping this “peace” offering will allow him into the bathroom to help.

◦ He ends up making the wash day last an extra 4 hours but you end up twisting your hair and watching a marvel film with him.

Darken

◦ Would walk around the apartment asking if y/n need anything. Bringing y/n tea and cleaning up when y/n leaves to wash hair.

◦ Don’t be surprised when he remembers to restock the hair products a few days before wash day.

◦ Would attempt to help braid the hair but after a while just suggest to shave your head.

◦ “Come on babe why don’t you twin with me”

◦ Once you are satisfied he would cook some food and cuddle with you the rest of the day

Kazutora

◦ NO fucking way are you doing this at home. Last time y/n tried this Kazutora decided to hide all the products. This almost resulted in a fight and that isn’t worth having again

◦ Changing the days on when to wash your hair is the only best option to keep him away.

◦ Also frequently going to different location is the only possible way to keep him from making a mess.

◦ This doesn’t last long since he is clingy and would rather swallow his pride if that means spending time with you

Chifuyu

◦ Would attempt to look up videos on how to help

◦ Would pass the products over when they are needed

◦ As he is watching y/n he tells her stories and make sure the music is upbeat to help motivate y/n on finishing.

◦ After a few months of watching he would help with untangling and twist

◦ It gets to a point y/n feel all the love and papering from him.

Kokonoi Hajime

◦ Doesn’t even think twice about paying for someone to help you

◦ Doesn’t listen to y/n protesting about the price of having someone help with their hair.

◦ “ You think I don’t have enough money to cover this?”

◦ Y/n enjoy having a personal hairstylist on call and never having to worry about doing their hair.

◦ Koko stay in the room to chat with you and frequently check if y/n is feeling okay