#you wouldn't even be able to tell they were related

[slowlystupendousdelusion]

Okay so in an attempt to focus on the positives, here are some bullet points of what I remember from the Greg Doran & David Tennant Shakespeare talk the other week.

Touchstone was DT's first Shakespeare part and As You Like It was the Shakespeare play he first remembers being interested in as there was a tour of it that went to his school.

A licence was needed to be able to use André Tchaikowsky's skull for Hamlet as he had died within the last 100 years old. DT dropped it during dress rehearsal the first time they used it and a bit broke off. Luckily they were able to fix it as it was a cheek(?) bit that had fallen out and could be put back in.

DT did a fair impression of both Sir Ian McKellen and (I think?) Al Pacino (I think this was in reference to 'Looking for Richard'??)

DT felt a lot of pressure in relation to Hamlet to the point that he was curled up in the foetal position before going on and had to be talked out of it by the speech assistant

They hold 'gyms' during the rehearsal period where they go through the play line by line to make sure everyone understands what they're saying. They might have discussions about it if there's not consensus.

GD thinks Love's Labour's Won (the lost play) is Much Ado About Nothing. DT countered this (to much laughter) with the plot of DW S3 Ep2. There was clearly a large Whovian contingent in attendance.

I've mentioned this elsewhere but they talked about other productions of Macbeth and GD mentioned one he'd seen with the following joke in the Porter scene: "Knock knock" "Who's there?" "Tom" "Tom who?" "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow" DT said he wouldn't tell Jatinder or he'd use it that evening

DT's least favourite Shakespeare is The Taming of the Shrew, I think GD demurred on this. Both said favourite is always the one you're currently working on. So Macbeth atm.

The talked about intervals and how Shakespeare didn't really have them - the crowd would be standing and some scenes were built in as a break. Some plays lose momentum if an interval is place in (Macbeth was cited). It can be a bit of a challenge choosing where to place one and they mentioned how in their Vers of Hamlet they put the interval mid-line to shake up expectations etc.

They talked a bit about iambic pentameter and how it's not as important as purists might have you believe. Shakespeare started having thoughts cross lines as he got older - perhaps to help the actors?

They talked about the challenges of such well-known plays and creating suspense etc. Some of the lines are problematic and how as a director, you're not an academic so if it doesn't work you can cut them!

DT mentioned Iago (among others) as a character he still wanted to play [🙏🙏🙏pls & ty]

One of the questions was about how his Shakespeare performances informed his part in Rivals. The response was that Jilly Cooper and Shakespeare actually have a lot in common in that they understand how humans act and wouldn't shy away from bawdiness etc.

They did mention Richard III a fair amount but the specifics aren't coming to mind

They talked about reviews and how you can dismiss the bad ones but if you do that then you can't really take only the good ones to heart. My friend noted that this topic was the only time GD looked slightly uncomfortable during the talk but I can't say I noticed that.

I didn't actually write notes at the time so I'm sure I missed a bunch, but my other take away from this was how charismatic and naturally funny DT came across.

[ninyard]

But I wonder that if something were to happen to kevin ( not death related ) what would others feel or act like for example him breaking his hand permanently, ending up in the hospital for not taking care of himself enough and etc i really need your thoughts

See I feel like there's two different answers there for two different situations; if Kevin broke his hand again, or even just hurt it again, maybe broke a finger, or broke his wrist, it'd be awful mentally and a looong physical recovery for him. Can you imagine it? Anyone close enough to him on the court hears the snap when he goes down, and then he doesn't get back up, and Andrew sees across the court that he's cradling his hand. Kevin looks up and Andrew sees this fear in his eyes that he's only seen on a handful of occasions. It's bad, its scary for Kevin, the medics come out and everyone is holding their breath, because they're looking at his hand, his left hand, and it looks bad. There's such a weight to him accidentally injuring his hand again because every twinge of pain and every strained muscle puts his one step closer to never being able to use it again, never being able to play again. Whether its true or not doesn't matter - Kevin feels a pain that's worse than his normal pain and he's practically planning his imminent and immediate retirement in his head already. So if he walks off the court, knowing it's broken? He'd be devastated. He would be truly crushed. It's like he's started those two years of recovery all over again, and it's triggering, and it's familiar pain that he never wanted to feel again.

All of the Foxes have been injured before, to some degree. But this is Kevin, this is Kevin's hand. I think the empathy from them all would be huge, for just how devastating an accidental injury would be for him. If he could never play again it's hard to tell - his life is over. He'd go into coaching, maybe, but he'd never be happy, at least for a long time. His purpose was never fulfilled. If he'll recover from it, it's minor, it's just a sprain or a couple of months recovery instead of years, they'd all still be very careful about how they approach it with him. They wouldn't baby him, or tiptoe around the fact that he's injured, but I think they'd all know just how sensitive he'd be about it. I think until he's a while into his recovery, and a physiotherapist can say confidently that he will play again, nobody really knows how to deal with it. He'd be back to his assistant coaching cunt Kevin that they knew for those first few months into him being in PSU, so they wouldn't feel bad for him for too long, but this injury is different. The weight behind it is different. I don't know!!

As for if he wasn't taking care of himself that's a totally different kettle of fish. I'm currently working on an ask about him and Allison + their respective issues with food, and I think like... worst case there is that Kevin falls too far into disordered eating habits that he ends up making himself really unwell. That'd be different to, say, him getting himself so anxious about XYZ that he stops being able to leave the dorm. Or becoming so depressed about Riko's death that he stops looking after himself entirely.

When it comes to physically, literally physically, I don't think Kevin would ever put anything above his own health (except for if he were struggling with an ED). By physically I don't mean like... is he keeping fit or is he maintaining his muscle? I mean that he's not ignoring a pain in his hand, or physical pain anywhere in his body. If he is in pain, or doesn't feel right anywhere on his body, i think he's getting it checked out. Unless it's in tandem with something like him being depressed + unable to go to the doctors, or so anxious that he can't, if he were mentally healthy, Kevin Day is simply not neglecting his health.

I feel like that doesn't make sense at all but essentially the only reason I could see him neglecting his health is if he were suffering mentally. And when you're talking about his mental health, it's just about who would notice and do something about it, who would notice and ignore it, and who wouldn't notice at all. Andrew is clocking it straight away, same as Aaron, Neil, Wymack, Abby and Bee. Allison might notice, and Renee might notice. Depending on how bad it is, maybe they'd all realise it before it gets so bad that he ends up hospitalised or something. And all of their reactions would be different, I think. Some of them wouldn't do anything other than ask Andrew or Neil if he's okay. Some of them would go to Bee or Abby to let them know. Some of them might approach him and ask if he's okay, and when he lies and says he's fine, some of them might not push it. But in general I think Kevin is an easy read. He's just maybe not so easy to approach or help when he's in those situations.

[alinedreams]

Uryu and Chad are gay married by the end of the manga. In this essay i will

[cathodic-clairvoyant]

There's a lot about discussion of hdwr that baffles me (not all discussion to be clear, because i do think there's a lot of good discussion about hdwr. But equally so are there the ones that make you wonder if you're reading the same story) and I think one that is especially annoying is the constant infantilization of miwa as this passive eternal victim. It drives me up a wall because this is quite literally an issue she's struggled with within the text of the story! She had an arc about how she dislikes how people treat her this way like towards the beginning of the story! And like even ignoring that, this story is about like nuanced and realistic portrayals of being in relationships and learning how to navigate them and so it's like what's the point if you're going to immediately reduce the characters to "the victim" and "the victimizers?" Is that even interesting? Is that a useful lens to look at interpersonal relationships?

[tkbrokkoli]

foaming from the mouth.

this nurse was like you're too late for your appointment we have already called in the next patient, meanwhile I was literally three fucking minutes (3!!!!) too late bc i struggled 5 min to lock up my stupid ass bike and also.

during previous appointments i had to wait a quarter of an hour to be called in despite being on time. like. they've made me wait on purpose before.

like. what. I'm too late? I'm too late? tell me about being too late. you tell me about it. you tell me about it alright

[natriae]

to say that Ushijima and your's relationship was a bit unconventional would be an understatement. In the beginning it was hard to even understand if the two of you were together. Everyone was unsure, you two, your friends, bystandards. No one was quite sure what was happening between you two.

Even now it hard to explain how you ended up with the gentle giant. "so when did you two start dating?" they question, leaving you and Wakatoshi dumbfounded by the question. Things have always been the same between you two since the day you met. As tendō put it, you and Wakatoshi have your own language. The two of you don't need to even speak to know what the other wants.

The easiest way to answer that question is when the two of you had your first kiss. To go by the first 'date' wouldn't be easy enough for you guys to pin point. The two of you were always hanging out alone but neither one was sure it was a 'date'. Ushijima was an awkward teenage boy and to say you were awkward too would be an understatement. You doubt the two of you would have even kissed if it wasn't for Tendō attempting at playing cupid.

When Tendō finally was able to get it to click in Wakatoshi's brain that his feelings were in fact more than just platonic it didn't take long for the kiss to happen. You didn't even know Wakatoshi had feelings for you like that.

It was midfall in Wakatoshi's single room dorm when your relationship changed. Society's voices were hard to ignore at this age and all you could focus on was how you were the odd one out. Never been in a relationship— not even a situationship— never kissed anyone, no talking stage. It was hard to relate to those around you, but you always had Wakatoshi there. He made you feel a lot less alone, yet your brain is far to powerful and things got awkward.

You couldn't help but let the devil on your shoulder convince you that there was so much Wakatoshi wasn't telling you. This is the farthest the two of you have been and seeing him not even once a week was unusual. He's quiet. He's always been quiet, but it feels as though that secret langage is fading away. You can't read him like you use too.

The college athlete was changing before your eyes like something clicked while you were away. Almost like he's now too aware of himself. Like he's noticing that his body is to large and confined in his space, but your heart hammered in your chest for you to calm down. He's still Wakatoshi.

He still invited you over and remembered you. He's still the Wakatoshi you've known, yet when he sits down beside you on his bed your stomach begins doing flips. You're nervous. He's never made you nervous.

The large man stares at the tv before him before taking a deep breath. "y/n," his deep voice breaths out quietly. His thick brows draw together as he looks at you. Seeming racking his brain for the right words at this moment. You watch as his chest rises in one long inhale before his adam's apple bobs with a swallow.

You can't read him.

'Ushijima' wants to exit your mouth, but you don't let it. To stunned by his eyes. You lips move with the purpose to open, but never part. You fall slight closer when he finally scooches nearer. His body weight pressing further into the mattress than yours. His olive eyes flicker towards your lips before he takes one final deep breath and moves in. His eyes shut and his long eyelashes flutter before his lips meet yours. It's soft. Gentle. As if he's to scared to hurt you, but when his hand moves to the back of your head you know that he’s just as nervous as you are. He's never done this before. He's still your Wakatoshi, he's just entering a new chapter.

[cherrygirlfriend]

in whose sheets

pairing: rafe cameron x exgf!reader

genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!! rafe is a munch (oral f receiving)

synopsis: you go see your ex-boyfriend after he calls you to come over

word count: 0.7k

a/n: a short little blurb inspired by bad idea, right? by olivia rodrigo because i relate to that song so fucking hard!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

He was so bad for you.

That was the reason you'd broken up in the first place. He was possessive, he had punched a hole into your wall more times than you could count, always making sure to pay to have it fixed, making sure to comfort you whenever you'd get scared by his temper; he'd never raise his hand at you, but everyone that knew you, knew that he was bad for you. It all ended at a party when some guy started hitting on you in front of Rafe and he lost it, the tall blonde beating the guy to a bloody pulp right in front of you, his knuckles bruised and bloodied. The next morning, you'd broken up with him.

So, when he called you two weeks after the breakup, you were expecting it to be nothing more than a random drunk call that had become a habit for him. And even though you had told all your friends that you wouldn't answer if he called, you found yourself in a quiet corner at the party you were in with your friends.

"Baby, please... need you to come over..." He was practically begging you.

"Rafe-"

"Don't 'Rafe' me, baby..." He said with a sigh, clearly drunk or high off his ass. "Need you to come over, come on..."

"I'm not coming over, Rafe."

"Please... can't even touch myself without picturing it was your hand... I need to taste you again, baby, you know no one can make you feel the way I do." You could hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side, and he let out a quiet groan. "No one can make you come the way I do..."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as your mind was filled with images of being in Rafe's bed, the blonde pleasing you until you were so overstimulated you were telling him it was too much, yet he wouldn't stop, wanting you to be nothing but a whimpering mess in his arms. You tried to steady your breathing, but you couldn't deny that the idea of him doing to you was making you wet.

"Rafe-"

"You know you want to."

And that's how you had ended up in your ex-boyfriend's bed, while your friends were blowing up your phone, asking you where you were, Rafe's head in between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you still while your bad was arching off his bed in pleasure.

He was always so good at convincing you to do whatever he wanted.

You knew that it was a bad idea, that you shouldn't be here, but you really couldn't bring yourself to care, the way two of his fingers were pumping in and out of you while his lips were covered in your wetness, sucking your sensitive swollen clit into his mouth greedily, close to bringing you to your second orgasm, knowing that it wouldn't be your last.

"Fuck, Rafe..."

"You're mine." He said in a muffled voice before pulling away from you slightly, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of his lips on your clit, meanwhile his long fingers continued their work on you, the blonde looking up at you, the desperation in your eyes only making him harder. "No matter what you do, you'll always be mine... No one is ever gonna be able to make you feel as good as I do."

"Rafe..."

"Say it. Tell me you're mine, and I'll continue."

"I'm yours..." You whined in a hoarse voice, so desperate to have his

His lips continued their previous ministrations, causing lewd moans to escape your lips as you looked down at him, your hands buried in his hair, pulling him closer and closer to your clit, the blonde picking up his pace, desperate to see you come for him.

And as you came undone on his tongue, arching into his mouth and letting out profanities and loud moans of his name, he slowed down his pace, letting you ride out your orgasm as he pulled his digits out of you, bringing them to his glistening lips and licking every drop of you, the sight more captivating than any painting that you'd ever seen.

"So, you ready for more?"

When he looked up at you with that familiar smirk, you knew that as soon as your friends found out whose bed you had spent the night in, they'd all be so disappointed in you, and you'd probably end up hating yourself as soon as you gpt home, but you simply couldn't bring yourself to care, nodding, silently to tell him to go on.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[sttm99]

Part 2 here!

'Fuck.'

It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.

He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.

You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.

And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.

Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.

"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.

Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."

You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.

"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."

You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."

You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.

"So why didn't you?"

You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....

"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"

"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.

You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."

There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.

"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."

You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"

Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"

You began sitting up. "Don't I?"

"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."

"Yeah because he's always texting me."

"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.

You paused, sitting up and pondering it.

Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"

You scowled at him.

"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."

You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."

"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."

You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."

"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.

"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.

Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.

"I can give you pointers if you want."

Silence.

"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.

He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."

You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."

"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."

He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.

"Wanna find out?"

And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.

"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."

His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.

His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.

It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.

-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.

"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.

"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-

"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"

His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.

It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.

He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.

He brought his head forward to peek over at you.

"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"

You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.

He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.

It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.

Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.

It's stupid. He knows it is.

You don't even like him that way.

Part 2 has been posted here!

[kryptznnn]

♛- Could've fooled me

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

➸ INTERESTS; -timeskip/pro-hero!katsuki bakugo x f!reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - Little drabble/blurb about Bakugo, and how much he claims to hate you. Considering you as someone who's nothing, but an obstacle for him, but like all obstacles you constantly get in his way, and he loves it.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.1k, mentions of hatred/dislike, indecisiveness, romantic and sexual tension, smut, p in v, oral sex f!recieving, masturbation m!engaging, kissing, orgasms (both f and m engaging), mentions of arguing, hating/disliking to liking/loving relations.

➸a.i; - omg new blurb everyone wake up eek, working on 3 masterlists rn so sad eugh, but i hope u guys enjoy.

༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚.

Katsuki hates how much you tail or tag around him, no matter how many times he's told you to leave him alone you just keep coming back.

Katsuki also hates the amount of attention you attract whenever you're out, whether a small story the girls are bringing up about random people approaching you, or even if he's stuck in a situation with you himself. He knew better than to bring it up to your attention through an argument though, you can't help who you attract. He just considers you lucky that he's always there at the right times.

He despises how kind you are, it almost seems as if you do it to mock him. You're not nice, but kind, kind to random people you've met, people you've had issues with and even him. It bothers him more like anything before, maybe it's because he believes he's the only person that should be getting that attention.

He isn't fond of how much you two share in common aside from your opposite attitudes. It's almost as if you two were meant to clash with one another. Arguments would always disperse between the two of you, and honestly, it fired him up in a way even he wouldn't expect.

He hates how he's back at his place now, his sweatpants pulled down to his thighs as his wifebeater was now rolled up over his belly button. His breath hitched as he was 'relieving himself of his anger' from your argument prior. He wasn't sure if he was going crazy or was just too caught up in the moment, but when he pictured you on your knees with your mouth wide open it sent him straight to climax, huffing and grunting softly to himself.

Don't get Katsuki started on the entire phrase others repeat to him. 'Opposites attract', he finds it a bunch of bullshit, he hates how often he hears it. Even if whatever he felt for you was what everyone else thought there's no way it was reciprocated. From all of his messes he had to clean up (like last night's mess) there was no way he'd take the risk.

He hates how he wasn't able to realize it sooner, your small remarks and subtle comments were pointers. You did reciprocate whatever he was feeling towards you, and he knew that by how much you were babbling underneath him while he fucked you.

Katsuki loves how you feel around his cock, it's like you're trying to suck him in any deeper from the inside. There wasn't any deeper, his breath was ragged as you were a moaning mess by how his tip kissed your cervix with every thrust.

"Katsuki please, I- ah, I can't" you cry. Oh, he loves how much you try to fight him over it, it's practically making him harder than he was. He could tell you were close; no one just denies their pleasure if an orgasm isn't close.

He's quick to lift up one of your legs, pressing down on the back of your thigh as he pistols himself within you now, your cries getting louder as your clawing at his shoulders and back now. He hates how easily whipped you are for him, one minute you invite him into your place and the next your spread out on your couch.

He hates that you attempt to cover your mouth while he's drilling you so quickly, you're sure that the condom he has on will either snap or come off. He's quick to grab your hands and hold them over your head with his much larger one.

He doesn't like how good you feel now, because now he's getting vocal. He hates being vocal more than anything, and with the other girls he's fucked it hadn't been a problem until right now with you. The way you were biting and clawing at him made something in the pit of his stomach flutter, maybe it was something he ate.

He loves how you kiss him when you come undone, biting his lip softly as you whine and twitch through your orgasm. His thrusts becoming sloppy after your orgasm. You now applied pressure and spoke him through his own orgasm, and even clamped down on him, and it wasn't helping.

He likes the fact that he's doing this to you, that this moment is being shared between the two of you. At first when you two started you admitted out of shame this was your first time, he only looked at you in awe, to him this was an honor.

He hated how much you squirmed and moved around when he ate you out when you started. His tongue never leaving your clit as he dug his fingers deep into you, one by one. He wanted to keep you still, he didn't like how you pushed and turned, but it was all worth it when he made you cum, the first time out of many for the night.

"Ha, are you close? Your- mmm, you're going faster" you moan into him, as he buries his head within your neck and nods slightly. He isn't a man of many words, the two of you knew this already, but for you he wanted to. Maybe the thought was stupid or funny to ridicule him for, but he wishes for this moment to never end, and he hates that.

Katsuki was just on the edge, no words were shared between you two, more importantly him, as he climaxed. His grunts and breathing were as heavy as ever as he cradled into your shoulder, you only rubbed his back and moaned along with him, easing him through it. He hated how you babied him, even though you were younger than him.

Maybe he hated the fact that he secretly loved what you were doing, you weren't able to see it, but after the high faded he smiled. Katsuki smiled at the fact of how happy he was to share such a moment like this with you, but yet again it was going to take a lot to even get a confession from him.

As of now, not even Katsuki Bakugo himself could tell you whether or not he still hated you. Hating someone for who they are and hating someone for what they do are two different things, but maybe it wasn't even you. Katsuki hates how he feels for you because it drives him off in such an animalistic way, he just can't ever get enough of you.

And he loves it.

༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚.

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[wizardpink]

@iamanoccasionaldoodler

Okay so,

There seems to be this negative reaction to the finale from a lot of Devil's Minion fans and I don't understand it for a lot of reasons, but one of them is ... I don't get why people are upset that, when read at it's worst, Armand and Daniel are seemingly not on good terms after Daniel is turned. I keep seeing this belief that Armand "abandoned" him, which I think is fully pulled from y'alls collective ass, and a disappointment that Daniel would call Armand a "fucking asshole."

But the thing about Armand/Daniel everyone seems to be forgetting is that even in the source material, they first had to tear each other down to their bare bones before they could see each other well enough to love one another -- REALLY love one another. Because Armand is a russian nesting doll of lies, masks, and emotional walls, and with Daniel, idek if I can explain it properly, but I think its some combination of Armand needing to break him a bit to get him on his level of broken freakitude, and also Armand not being able to relate to the 20th Century Human period and needing to drill down into Daniel's core, straight down into the monkey brain that every homo sapien has shared for eons, before he can find something he understands.

If we were to ever get a proper Devil's Minion storyline on this show (and we will), they've laid the perfect groundwork by having Daniel EVISCERATE Armand right to his face, slicing his Gorgon's knot of lies and schemes in half and leaving it lay on that table. And Armand's face! HIS FACE! He can't believe it! Seventy-seven years with Louis who never could unravel all the strings, or simply didn't care to even bother. And THIS guy who seemingly hates him found Armand fascinating enough to try. AND succeed!

And why wouldn't he? Daniel may not have remembered until they were nearing the end of the interview, but Armand SHOWED Daniel what was beneath the mask years ago, the very first time they met. The jealous, insecure, desperate creature that was hiding under there, that IS Armand to Daniel.

I'm getting off track here, but what I'm trying to say is that as much as Armand turning Daniel in the books is SUCH a flawless scene, ultimately, if you believe in the infinite and eternal nature of their love story, it doesn't matter whether Armand turned Daniel before they fell for each other, afterward, during a break-up or at the climax of their most romantic streak. Like Lestat said, "We'll be together ten thousand nights, a hundred thousand. What we're doing is hard."

So maybe Armand turned Daniel shortly after Daniel stripped him bare in front of Louis, and Louis was so disgusted by what he saw, he threw him into a stone wall. Daniel could have run, too. For some reason, he didnt. Armand could have killed him in an instant, sitting at that table or after Louis left. He didn't. Armand made a conscious decision to tie himself to this man who just exposed him for ETERNITY. Because as horrific an experience as it was, as devastating and life-altering, he was seen.

"It is difficult to explain how his words disarmed me, how efficiently succinct and impenetrable his argument was. All my conceptions, even my guilt and my wish to die, seemed utterly unimportant, and I completely forgot myself and the barbaric scene that surrounded me. For the first time in my life, I was seen."

Louis said those words about Lestat as he described being made a vampire, when he kissed Lestat on the altar.

That feeling, of someone cutting to the core of you and telling you exactly what you are as no one else has ever been able to understand, made Louis accept the Dark Gift from Lestat.

And it made Armand give that Gift to Daniel.

[tarysande]

There are a couple more Garrus-Vakarian-related hills I'm willing to die on.

Maybe this particular bit of fanon has faded over the years, but there used to be a lot of insistence that Garrus is young and somehow inexperienced when he meets Shepard. Canon doesn't really support this. Turians start their mandatory service at 15. Garrus has at least a decade of experience. Even if he's 2-4 of years younger than Shepard (according to Patrick Weekes), he's got at least as much field experience as she does by dint of the difference in turian and human "enlistment" ages.

Garrus is really damn good at his job at C-Sec. You don't give the Case of Investigating the Rogue Spectre to a greenhorn. You give it to your best, most tenacious agent. Pallin may not always approve of Garrus's actions, but that doesn't actually stop him from putting Garrus on the tough case. Also, we don't know much about how C-Sec works but we do know a bit about how the turian hierarchy works, and we know C-Sec was essentially a turian initiative. That means it's a meritocracy where failure reflects on the superior, not the one who failed. So, in roughly a decade (Shepard's 29 in ME1; I always think of Garrus as about 27), Garrus has not only done shipboard military service, but he's also risen to be one of C-Sec's top investigators; Pallin wouldn't risk having Garrus's "failure" reflect poorly on HIM otherwise. I'd say that actually makes Garrus as remarkable in civilian law enforcement terms as Shepard is considered to be within the ranks of the Alliance military.

Of course Garrus was scouted by the Spectre program. And honestly, if his dad hadn't stepped in, I think Garrus would have become a Spectre, no problem. Especially for a turian, he's cut from precisely the cloth the Spectres would be looking for: extremely skilled, extremely capable, and--most importantly--he's a turian not just able but willing to work outside the chains of command that turians are taught from birth to revere and be loyal to above all else. This is the reason Pallin is leery about Spectres: he's a good turian. Good turians follow straight lines; they don't carve out their own paths.

Garrus's dad's not dumb, and he's not cruel, and he, too, rose to the top of the C-Sec hierarchy. He took one look at his kid, I think, and said, "I love my child, but I'd say it's a 50-50 chance he ends up a shooting-first-asking-questions-later Spectre like Saren Arterius, and I don't want to see that happen." Yeah, he uses his parental influence to try and jam square-peg-Garrus into round-hole-C-Sec and Garrus resents him for it, but there's no way he did it just to stop his son from getting his way or because he doesn't like Spectres. I expect Vakarian Sr. had to clean up more post-Spectre-interference messes than we can possibly imagine. But we also know he and Alec Ryder were pals later.

So the importance of what Garrus learns from a Paragon Spectre Shepard is this: You can't just do what you want and claim the ends always justify the means. That's what Saren does. Over and over again. Garrus's code and his idealism and his sense of justice and his ability to work alone should make him a great Spectre, actually, but he needs Paragon Spectre Shepard's actions to show him the lesson he tells her he's learned during ME1: "If the people I'm sworn to protect can't trust me... well, then I don't deserve to be the one protecting them." (And the seed of Archangel was planted.) I think for the first time he realizes that even though he believes his sense of justice to be correct, it doesn't matter for shit if he can't show others why that's so. And that's where the trust comes in. (Also, ow, the extra level of importance this gives their exchange where she tells him she trusts him and he tells her she's about the only friend he has left is... a lot. Cool, cool. I'm totally fine. Nothing to see here.)

When Shepard asks him what happened on Omega, he replies, "My feelings got in the way of my better judgement." Something tells me that this never happens to "good" turians, which just makes the line so much more devastating. And although the lesson some might take away from this is "feelings bad; no feelings ever," the "grey" that Garrus has to learn to deal with is precisely the grey of recognizing feelings, validating them even, but not acting on them until they've been examined. (Which is why my Shepard stands between him and Sidonis; she doesn't give a shit about Sidonis. But Garrus has refused to process his own feelings of failure and self-loathing, so they have to take the therapy session to the Citadel and deal with it there.)

Ahh yes. The mountain range of character analysis.

[hello-eden]

Plain Sight part 4

@sir-ghost-the-green @blankliferain @catthestampede @elliesalien @wanderwithwings @bianca-hooks123

P1 p2 p3

Tim has a kid

He has a kid

Tim was sitting on the couch trying to process every thing that Jason just said. There is a kid one room over that he had a hand in creating. A little girl named Elle that he had no idea about.

Tim can tell that Jason's expecting him to tell him that she's part of some sort of genetic experiment or a one-night stand but honestly the second he heard that she was four he knew exactly who the mom was. She was made from stupid teen love and the feeling of being on top of the world.

Tim remembers Danny quite well. 

He had no idea that they were involved in any of this and honestly Tim's a little scared that it's their fault. He knows that Danny had a mad scientist parents but Danny was never into that sort of thing. Tim remembers the scars that Danny had said were from malfunctioning weapons and hates himself a little bit for the fact that he left him alone.

The news that Danny's related to Damien is entirely another thing. Danny might not just be his fault and he should probably stop throwing himself into self-deprecation. Tim knows Danny had no idea. Danny was adopted; he told himself.

“ Are you okay there, replacement?”  Jason asks in a softer tone that he usually uses. probably being able to tell that Tim's on the edge of a breakdown.

“You just told me that I have a kid, we have no idea where the mom is and that we have no idea what could be after them.” Tim takes a few deep breaths knowing it isn't Jason's fault.

“you got any idea who the mom might be or is this a Superboy situation”

“this is more of a Damien situation”

“oh was not expecting that out of you” Jason seemed to pause for a moment clearly not expecting that answer.

 “yeah”  Tim really didn't know what to say. this had not been how he expected the night to go. “I didn't expect it either”

“You know who Dahlia is or at least whoever the hell her name is because I can tell from her file that's definitely not their real name.” Jason said, obviously trying to change the subject from feelings to something with an actual answer.

“ Danny”  Tim takes a deep breath before saying the rest having not heard their name even out of their own mouth in years.”Danny Fenton” 

 “this a nightlife situation?” Tim can tell Jason is trying to be nice about everything's going on but the bat need to know everything is certainly strong and all of them.

 “no”  Tim remembers meeting Danny with a weird amount of clarity that he probably shouldn't. “Actually surprisingly enough, I met a cute boy at a Wayne Enterprises sponsored party and got his number.”

 “you didn't stay in touch?” Jason said obviously thinking there was more to the story. He would be correct. 

“ I certainly stayed in touch for the next year until Bruce was gone and a relationship was not something I was able to do.” the answer would get out eventually especially if they did the math. Danny and Tim did not part on the best terms but Tim likes to think if they met again there wouldn't be too much bad blood.

“ oh that would certainly be a reason“

They sit there in silence for a while before Jason speaks up again.

“you going to meet her” Jason gets up from his chair and makes a move to pick up their cups. 

“What”

“you going to stay till you wake up or am I going to have to schedule a meeting in your CEO schedule” Jason said, trying to make it clear he was ok with ether option.

 “no” Tim thinks for a moment. On one hand being able to plan it out would be great, on the other he can't bring himself to move. “I'm going to stay here”

“then that settles it” Jason makes a move towards the kitchen with both their cups in hand. “want more tea?”

 “you sound like Alfred,” Tim says, giggling a little bit thinking about how absurd the situation is.

 “Well, I certainly didn't learn hospitality from the old man.”

  “sure I'll take more tea” 

[blondwhxrewrites]

Okay so Mattheo x fem reader, but Theo is readers brother and they have to hide their relationship because bro code. They almost get caught multiple times and sneak around, broom closets for small kisses between classes, sneaking in dorm rooms, that kinda vibe

Reader can be adopted or biologically related to Theo, it's up to you to decide which <3 also as for dorms..don't think about it. Sometimes I have them be just separate dorms or shared dorms and it always changes so shhhhh it's magic..

In his defense, he tried hard to quell his ever-growing desire for you, his best friend's sister. In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea. He should've stopped himself the moment he offered to take you back to your dorm after that party, because next thing he knew, he had you pressed under him with his cock stuffed inside you. Theo would kill him if he discovered that he was the one who had stolen your virginity and destroyed your innocence. What's worse was that he hadn't even been drunk, and neither were you. It was a completely sober decision on both fronts.

Yeah, he was screwed, especially when he woke up the next day and realized just how completely in love with you he was. If he had any self-preservation, he would've immediately left and forgotten that whole night. But he didn't, so when you confessed your long-standing crush on him, he did what any sane man would do. He asked you to be his secret girlfriend until he could figure out a way to tell Theo that wouldn't result in his immediate death. It was still a work in progress. 

Now his once boring days are filled with passing kisses in empty hallways, fleeting stares, and the imminent threat of Theodore Nott. The closet sex was amazing, though. So was the way of being able to hold you against his chest and run his hands across your body. He'd never be able to get over your beauty. He swore that your eyes held the stars. He'd never be able to fully comprehend that you were his—fully his.

Honestly, he was fully prepared to die if it meant being able to spend those fleeting moments with you, even if they were just that—fleeting.

[murdrdocs]

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

[aluraveil]

sunday and ayato are both very alike in certain ways.

they both have sweet younger sisters that they care a lot about, are the heads to their respective families, have a lot of influence and power, hell they both even have blue hair for fucks sake.

but when it comes to their darling, they are both alike and different in terms of how life would be like with them. for instance they're both alike in how they would want you to be well acquainted with their sisters.

ayato loves his younger sister ayaka very much and wants to protect her from the corrupt and shady side of inazuman politics. ayato has and always will be a family man and his family comes first before everything else. not to mention, ayato needs a heir to continue the kamisato bloodline.

sunday loves his younger sister robin a lot. sunday was very close with his sister during their childhood days and he would even listen to robin's mini concert with him as the audience and a couple of other stuffed animals. sunday loves his sister, but he also both loved and cared for the people of penacony. sunday cared for them so much to the point where he didn't care if he suffered, but if everyone else could live in paradise in a sweet dream for the rest of their life, then it would make his suffering worth it.

they're also alike in how their darling wouldn't be able to escape them at all. ayato is known as someone who works behind the scenes and he has somebody else do the dirty work himself. ayato is a master strategist and he has the shuumatsuban on his side. the shuumatsuban mainly deals with espionage, gathering evidence against corrupt officials of inazuma, and they're loyal as hell meaning that they report whatever they find to ayato. the shuumatsuban is willing to give up their life if it means protecting their lord ayato against an assasination attempt. ayato will also have the shuumatsuban on your back secretly watching you in the shadows as you go about your day inside the kamisato estate when ayato is forced to be pulled away from you due to his never-ending pile of paperwork and meetings inside his office.

escape certainly isnt possible with ayato that's also how sunday can relate as well. sunday was someone who secretly conspired with the order behind everyone's backs not to mention he also managed to hide it until the very end. if that doesn't prove that sunday is a master conspirator then i dont know what will. sunday was also shown to have many different birds lying around penacony as a way for him to spy on certain people and things. with no doubt, those birds will be watching you like a hawk perched on top of a tree branch making sure to make eye contact with you- almost like a warning telling you not to get any funny ideas since the bird is around.

though they're alike in many parts, they're also different as well. for instance, they both handle escape attempts very differently.

ayato finds it so cute and adorable whenever you try to escape. the moment that you're forced onto ayato's feet on your knees when the shuumatsuban drag you back is quite amusing to him because of the sour look on your face. in fact, ayato even encourages it. ayato's a sly bastard who knows just what to do and say to get you all riled up and the worst part of it is that he does it on fucking purpose. ayato openly mocks your escape attempts because of how desperate you were and he just sits back and enjoys the show whenever you try to reason or argue with him.

sunday also finds escape attempts funny but after a certain point, they're not so hilarious. sunday finds it frustrating with how frequent your escape attempts become and at first he humored you but now he's just straight up dissapointed. sunday believed that if he allowed you to try and escape, you'd realize how futile they were and just how powerless you were compared to the head of the oak family. after a while, sunday just opts to cuffing your wrist to his own that way you can be with him at all times and that way you can stop making his birds work overtime.

but to pair both ayato and sunday together with a darling would be a recipe for disaster. to pit two yanderes who have a lot of money and influence together would make them an unstoppable duo. having them both share a darling would just mess with their head due to ayato's mind games and sunday's annoying proximity with you due to the cuff binding your wrists together.

lets just hope you would never get stuck in this situation between this deadly duo of yanderes.