#I only say their location if they already finished filming there or if they are filming in a closed place where people can’t bother them by

[diapersguy]

Ever since I woke up wet a few nights ago, my partner has insisted on keeping me in diapers so as not to risk anymore accidents. Obviously I hated the idea but he explained that it was best for me and so I went with it.

At first the intention was for me to keep using the toilet when I needed to go but when I got to a crucial part in a video game where I couldn’t pause yet really needed to go and pee, he was just like “well don’t worry about it, you have a diaper on and it will hold it so just go in that, it’s what they are for.” Of course I was unsure and nervous but I really wanted to beat this bit of the game and so that’s what I did.

“Wow well done, I didn’t think you would actually do that, but wasn’t it better than dying in your game.” I looked at him and nodded.

Later that evening we had decided to watch a movie, but it was over 3 hours long. Before it started he had already told me that he didn’t want to be pausing the film constantly and if I needed to wet I should just do it in the diaper. I figured I had done it earlier so it couldn’t do any harm.

He came in with a 2l bottle of coke, which he said was just for me to keep my hydrated and I happily drank it during the movie until the bottle was empty.

After the film has finished I stood up and then it hit me how heavy and saggy the nappy felt. Knowing that I had wet it several times during the movie I started to blush and headed towards the door to change it.

“Where you going?” He asked. I explained that my diaper was really wet and I didn’t want it to leak so I was going to go and change. He pulled me close, yanked my shorts down and felt the diaper. “Wow that is wet, it’s a good job you had it on for the film or we would still be watching it tomorrow morning, let me help get you changed.” He took my hand and lead me upstairs. Once in the bedroom he looked at the diaper and noticed that my cock was hard. “Wow somebody seems to be enjoying this wet diaper.” I blushed and looked away from him, not saying a word. He started to rub the outside of my diaper and I shivered it felt so good.

I tried to take the diaper off so that he could get to my cock, but he stopped me. “Hmm I don’t think so. You clearly like the diaper so I want you to come in to it too.” He kept rubbing the outside of the diaper and I got more and more into it. It didn’t take long for me to shoot. He kissed my forehead as he said “good boy, now let’s get you changed.”

This continued for a few days with me no longer allowed to use the toilet to pee and anytime I wanted to make stickies I had to do it in the diaper. It got to the point where I didn’t even think about using the toilet for a pee and just went in the diaper whenever I needed too, the toilet was now for poo only.

A couple of weeks later, my partner had made some chocolate brownies and gave me a couple. They were delicious although did have a bit of a strange taste but were still more than good enough to eat.

I sat on the sofa watching cartoons, which had become a regular weekend thing now for some reason when my stomach started to cramp. I wriggled on the seat wanting to watch the cartoon but I knew that I was going to have to poop. I looked at my partner, who now insisted that I called him daddy whenever I needed to use to the toilet to poop and told him what was happening. He looked at me and simply said “okay” as he got off the sofa and headed to the hallway where the nearest toilet was located. I followed expecting him to take me in there, take the diaper down and sit me on the toilet but instead he went in there, shut the door and locked it behind him.

I knocked on the door and shouted at daddy that I really needed to go. That my tummy was hurting and that I really couldn’t hold it. He shouted through the door “it’s okay you’re wearing a diaper, it will hold it just let it go.”

I resisted a bit more but it was hopeless. I squatted down and started to feel the poop flowing out of me, my stomach still cramping. The diaper felt warm as the mess hit the seat and a tear escaped from me. At that point daddy opened the toilet down and held me as I continued to squat and pushed the last of the poop out.

He then sat me on the floor, leaving me to feel the poop spread out all over my bottom. He wrapped me in a hug “now let’s go and make some stickies in this diaper before we get you changed.” He said as he lifted me off the floor and took me up the stairs.

[chaosandstardust]

so there's a lot, A LOT, I could say about James Somerton's apology, such as his avoiding discussing things like misinformation and his misogyny, his insane justification for his plagiarism (as a person who makes history content I often copy-paste things over into a word doc because I get tired of switching between tabs, and I have NEVER mistaken something for mine because the FONT is often different but also, even if the font is the same, I know my own writing style well enough to know when something isn't mine), the mentioning of his poor family background ("my dad is illiterate because he had to drop out when he was 7...you know, which is usually around the time that kids have already been taught how to read, RIGHT! I'M GOING WITH THAT!"), etc, etc, etc.

The thing I do want to talk about is his "filmmaking dreams". Mostly because as another Canadian filmmaker, his excuses are bullshit. If James Somerton actually wanted to be a filmmaker, to just make movies, he already would've made at least several shorts. And yes, it is completely possible. It would be difficult, and they probably wouldn't have been masterpieces, but it is absolutely possible. If his support system was as good as he says it was in Nova Scotia, if he had as many other creative minds around him, he would've been out shooting stuff. Hell, I've spent the last few months mapping out a new script, that I'm literally starting to shoot NEXT WEEK. If he wanted to make something, HE WOULD.

And even so, his justifications for continuing to change projects are also batshit. Let's say that I write a script in November, and I want to shoot in June, which is apparently the situation that he found himself in. That is about 7 - 8 months. That is plenty, PLENTY, of time to finish a script, find a crew, nail down some locations, secure some more funding, and cast. Plenty. This idea that he had to change because his film required a summer element and he had to change because of the weather is crazy to me.

Not only that, but there are plenty of film support groups in Canada, focused on producing Canadian content. For example, there's Telefilm, which will give you money, even match your crowdfunding up to a certain number, as well as plenty of other groups. If he had actually wanted to make movies, he would've been asking them for money. You know, groups who will LEGALLY hold you accountable if a film isn't made.

All of this to say is that James Somerton doesn't want to make movies. I doubt he gets any actual joy out of the process of creation at all. He wants to be admired. He wants the glitz and glam of being a filmmaker without doing any of the hard work. He's a lazy creator at the end of the day, and he will find any justification, ANY, to not do the work, whether it's stealing from other creators to "raise their voice" or switching projects again and again and again in an attempt to justify keeping the money that his fans gave him.

#james somerton #hbomberguy #filmmaking #filmmaker #god this gets me so heated

[randomshyperson]

Beach Weekend - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A chaotic and disastrous weekend with your lovely family and group of friends has some issues: Steve Rogers should not be left to take care of the accommodation, everyone has lost their jobs and Wanda is a very jealous wife. || Based on a Brazilian movie.

Warnings: (+16) attempt at humor, chaotic domesticity, lots of cuteness and jokes, established relationship, mentions and innuendo of smut and mentions of homemade artificial insemination, explicit language (cursing) || Words: 6.004k

A/N: I was talking to abimess about the lack of Brazilian representation in basically everything, and she had the brilliant idea of a special collection with stories with a Brazilian Reader. However, none of us would have the time to do it, still, I plan to write some loose stories about it. This story for example is based on a very famous Brazilian comedy film, hope you all like it.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

--//--

Being an adult usually had only two meanings: Not having the time or not having money. And both could happen simultaneously.

Yet, with the mass resignation of the Bishop Security Company after the owner's exposure of felony evasion, you and your co-workers and closest friends, Maria Hill and Steve Rogers, decided that the insurance money would be a good opportunity to have decent summer vacation for once in your life.

Convincing your wife would be the tricky part.

"Absolutely not." Wanda spoke with an indignant expression as soon as you finished counting. "We need to save money, Y/N. You still haven't received any feedback on the resumes you sent out, and we're not going to waste our savings because Rogers wants to have beers on the beach." Wanda declared seriously, but at that moment, the twins were coming down the stairs, and Tommy let out an excited exclamation.

"Are we going to the beach?" 

"No, Tommy-"

But if there was one thing Wanda had a problem doing, it was saying no to her boys' puppy dog eyes - and coupled with your kisses - she rolled her eyes and eventually agreed.

So, you left New York in a pickup truck with your family headed for the seashore.

"Who took care of the lodging?" Wanda asked from the passenger seat - she looked, in your humble opinion, stunning in her sunglasses. 

You turned down the radio a little to answer her.

"Steve. He said something about an old friend who had a boat and a beach house." You answer and Wanda hums in agreement, half distracted with her cell phone. You look through the rearview mirror at the twins, also focused on electronic devices, and sigh. "You know, it would be nice if we tried to disconnect a little from the Internet this holiday, don't you guys think?"

No one even hears your question, and you roll your eyes before turning the radio back up.

You stayed on the road for almost three hours because of the traffic, but everyone was very pleased when the sea became visible. The joy lasted only for the next 20 minutes.

"Are you sure we are at the right address?" Wanda asked with a grimace as soon as you parked the car in front of an old gate, a considerable amount of moss covering the bricks, and grass growing everywhere.

You were equally confused, and got out of the car with some hesitation, looking around. It was a somewhat isolated area from the rest of the houses, but the yard led to the beach. From the beam of the gate you could see that there was also a swimming pool.

Taking your cell phone, you dialed Steve's number while your family waited in the car - Wanda leaned into the back seat to calm the twins who were already starting to get restless.

"Rogers, I think we missed the entrance or something. Are you here yet?"

"No, I'm about ten minutes away. Send me your location and I'll pick you up."

But apparently, you were in the right place. And when Steve Rogers parked his car next to yours, you were just as annoyed as Wanda.

"You said you were going to take care of the lodging!" You accused the blond who held up his hands in surrender. 

"Hey, I said I knew the owner, that's different!" He defended himself. "Sam said the place is nice, you haven't even been in and you're already making judgments." He argues. "And stop yelling at me in front of my fiancé, it's bad luck." He whispered the last part, taking advantage of Bucky getting out of the car, and you rolled your eyes impatiently.

The place was not nice. It was a surprise that it was actually standing. 

You only didn't choke Steve because Maria arrived on a motorcycle with her girlfriend and she looked like she was going to do it first.

"Rogers, I promised her an incredible weekend and you put us in this hole!" Maria grunts between teeth as the three of you are supposedly checking out the kitchen, your families waiting for you in the living room.

"Look, the value was really good! I had no idea the place was in this condition." Steve defends himself. "Sam told me it was his family's house, and that they haven't been here in a few years..."

"More like a few centuries." You retort rubbing your forehead. You can hear Wanda's voice asking the kids not to touch anything, acknowledging that pitch of anger, and you can already imagine the lecture. And honestly, she's right.

"I'll call Sam." Steve says, sounding like he's more about running away from the discussion than solving something.

To add to Wanda's irritation, you had also suggested that she invite Pietro and his family, figuring that your friend would have picked a really nice place. So when the twin arrived with Monica and little Luna, you knew that the thin ice had burst.

Pietro let out a laugh when he saw the state of the room.

"It looks like a hurricane came through in here." He commented dropping one of the suitcases on the floor, his wife holding her daughter as if afraid she would catch some disease from the floor. "Well, I'll take the larger room!"

Pietro's sentence caused a commotion. You shuddered at the look Wanda threw you before she ran to catch up with the boys who went to dispute the room with their uncle, and you sat down on the old couch with a grunt, a migraine forming.

"Sam said he'll be here in fifteen minutes." Steve informs you and Maria as he returns to the living room with a cell phone in hand.

Apparently, it was the housekeeper's fault. Sam was a nice guy, and really didn't know that the house wasn't being taken care of properly. It took him almost 30 minutes to arrive however because he brought several pieces of cleaning equipment to help improve the appearance of the house.

"Amazing, guys! I go to the beach with everyone who has nothing to do with the choice of lodging and the rest of you are left in charge of cleaning." Wanda declares to the room and no one has the courage to contradict her.

And so you spend the rest of your afternoon trying to get mold out of the inside of a pool.

"Natasha seems nice." Steve tells Maria a few hours into the cleanup when the three of you are taking old bottles out. 

"She's amazing." Your friend retorts with an excited sigh. "I was a little unsure about this open relationship thing, but we're doing fine."

"Wait, does that mean you two can sleep with other people?" Steve asks surprised, and Maria giggles, shaking her shoulders as the three of you make your way back inside, at least three rooms with plenty of cleaning to be done yet.

"If we are in agreement, yes." Answers the brunette. 

"Damn I could never do that." Steve comments and you hum in response.

"Just the thought of Wanda sleeping with someone else makes my skin itch." 

"I didn't know you were the jealous type, Y/N." Maria comments and you give a short laugh, your hands busy moving the pillows to dust them off.

"Have you seen my wife, Hill? No, wait, don't look at her like that." You joke making all three of you laugh. "I'm not really, just truly monogamous. Believe me, Wanda is jealous of this relationship."

Steve laughed in agreement. "Oh, I recall that. Before you joined the company, Maria, Y/N trained a new girl, I think her name was Carol or something. Wanda looked ready to rip someone's head off every time her name was mentioned."

"I thought it was cute." 

"It was scary." Steve contradicts making you laugh. 

You get back to cleaning the house between conversations about work and side scares, and as the place gets cleaner, the anger about the inconveniences eventually takes a back seat.

Wanda and the others don't return until late afternoon, the kids running in dirty with sand and making a huge mess in the shower.

You are testing the waters calmly, but realize that a day at the beach with the twins seems to have relaxed Wanda a bit. You try to improve things a bit by promptly offering to take care of the twins, cleaning up all the mess and making sure they were in their pajamas and ready for dinner without delay.

Wanda smiled at you in thanks before heading to the kitchen and that made you sigh with relief.

"She's mad." Tommy warns you as you dry his hair and you look at your son with a grimace.

"Are you sure?"

"She smashed the volleyball." It is Billy who answers, and you sigh with slight panic.

"Boys do you have any suggestions?" You ask them, going to dry the other's hair. 

"A new house." Tommy mutters taking an elbow from his brother.

"Foot massage, mommy. And you could buy some chocolates too." Billy suggests and you smile at them.

"You two are the best." You say kissing the head of each before letting them run into the kitchen.

—------—------

Everyone was tired from the trip and the beach, so plans for the barbecue and pool would be left for the next few days. The children were put in one room, and you, Wanda and Maria and Natasha in the other, while Steve and Bucky took the couches. The hammocks for Pietro and Monica.

"Did you girls get to know each other well?" Maria asked when the four of you were in the room. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for Wanda to finish drying her hair and get into bed, while Natasha was grabbing bath items to use after Maria who had just left the shower.

Wanda and Nat exchanged gentle smiles. "Yes, Natalia is a sweetheart." Your wife commented, causing Maria to smile. "She mentioned that you guys almost went to St.Petersburg, but ended up choosing the beach. I imagine the regret must be bitter." Wanda joked, and although Maria and Nat laughed, you knew it was a warning that she hadn't forgiven you yet.

"I don't know, Wanda, trading thick coats for the chance to see this goddess in a bikini seems like a good game." Natasha flirts with her girlfriend, stealing a kiss on the way to the bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, Maria grunts with excitement, ignoring the giggles from you and Wanda.

"God, that woman is going to kill me." Hill said. 

"Doesn't it make you want to keep her all to yourself?" You tease just to torment her, and Maria chuckles, raising her middle finger at you. Wanda watches the scene with confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asks, and Maria quickly tries to explain about them being in an open relationship. "Wow, that's... modern."

You give a short laugh, which Maria follows. "Come on Maximoff, you can say you think it's a crazy idea. Steve does."

But Wanda shrugs her shoulders, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "No, I think it's nice. If it works for you, and it's something you like, then I really don't see why it would be a problem. In fact, it sounds interesting, I imagine you guys must never get bored."

Maria laughs, commenting that boredom has never been a problem, but you frown in hesitation. 

"In fact, girls, I think Nat forgot her soap and I would never want her to have her bath marred by that little triviality..." Maria says a moment later, ignoring the rolling of your eyes to run to the bathroom and you turn your attention back to your wife lying on the bed beside you.

"Hey, pretty girl, since when do you think an open relationship is cool?" You ask, moving to the edge of the bed without delay, your hands finding Wanda's feet to place them in your lap. She gives a confused giggle.

"What, I'm not allowed to?" She retorts half sarcastically, the irritation over the events from earlier still fresh in her mind. 

You sigh. "You can think whatever you want, Wanda. I was just surprised. And that talk about being bored..." Your voice grew a little unsure, causing Wanda to frown in curiosity. "It wasn't about us was it?"

Wanda giggled incredulously. "By God, honey."

"What? It's an honest doubt." You defend yourself with flushed cheeks, and Wanda bites back a smile. She would like to be irritated with you for more than a few hours, but you make the job so difficult.

"Baby, we have sex almost every day."

"Yeah, but you could be getting tired..." You mutter upset, your fingers massaging Wanda's feet and she grunts softly.

"I promise I'm not." 

"So you wouldn't want to open our marriage?" 

"Babe, don't make me kick your pretty face." Wanda warns causing you to chuckle. She closes her eyes to enjoy the massage better and you smile affectionately as you watch the soft sighs that leave her lips in appreciation of the touch.

You lick your lips a minute later, stopping your movements to lean down and kiss her thighs, making Wanda open her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She asks almost tense, her gaze going to the closed door. You only press a hand to her stomach to get her to lie back down, and the other pulls the comforter over you.

"Making sure there's no boredom." You retort, fingers climbing up into her nightgown as your mouth kisses the inside of her thigh and up, making Wanda shudder softly.

"Baby, the girls could be back any moment..." She reminds you with the last remaining bit of sanity, but you only laugh softly against her skin.

"Adrenaline makes everything better, don't you think?" It is your last comment, and Wanda will not argue any further.

–//–

The second day is infinitely better than the first. Apparently, one orgasm is enough for Wanda to forgive you for a bad weekend, and when you join everyone on the beach, it's really fun.

The only inconvenience is Pietro mistaking sunscreen for suntan lotion and turning all the kids into shrimp, which stresses the mothers out to a considerable degree.

You end up going back early because of this, and you offer to go to the pharmacy to get some ointment for them, being joined by Natasha in the car as the woman also wanted to buy some items. 

You chat a bit on the way, she has a sarcastic humor but is pleasant company. She also flirts a lot with the natural way in which compliments escape her, and the interaction leaves you feeling a bit awkward. 

The problem is that for your wife, you arriving with easy smiles and a flushed face with a beautiful woman like Natasha is not exactly the best thing in the world. So her passive hostility from before returns and you have no idea why.

You focus on soothing the burns of the three naughty children on the couch for the moment though.

Wanda, on the other hand, is quite interested in finding out why you arrived laughing with Natasha, and once the redhead joins Steve and Bucky in preparing the barbecue, the shorter one is trying to sound as casual as possible.

"[...] your wife is really very nice, that's all." Natasha assures amiably, her hands busy grabbing a cold beer. "I told her about not knowing New York very well, and she told me that with the company's trainee program she ended up getting to know the city like the back of her hand and that if I were in Queens sometime, we could schedule a coffee. She is very helpful."

Wanda forces a smile. "Yes, very helpful. Lovely." She commented, the sarcasm being missed by Nat, who wasted no time in continuing the conversation.

You didn't understand any of the murderous looks you received from Wanda every time she took a sip of beer while talking to Nat, but honestly, you were afraid to ask.

The barbecue gets livelier as Pietro gets the radio and speakers working, and you proudly fill the pool that you have successfully cleaned.

While the kids are playing in the water, you approach Wanda from behind, hands on her waist, but when you go to kiss her, she turns her face away and you end up just brushing up against her cheek.

She takes a long swig of beer, prologuing the lack of explanation and causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

"What's wrong?" You ask in a whisper, holding her by the waist while the others are busy dancing and talking.

"Nothing." She retorts between teeth, returning the bottle to the counter in front of her, leaning her ass against you. 

"Wanda." You insist, appreciating the warmth, but worried about the way she is acting.

Your wife just turns her face to you, an innocent expression that doesn't match the way her eyes are shining. "It's nothing, honey, I just heard about you being the best tour guide in New York."

You frown in confusion. "What...?"

But Wanda slips your hands away as she spins her body around, hands finding the collar of your shirt. "So helpful with other people's girlfriends."

You sigh as you understand. "Wanda, I was just trying to be nice..." You try, but she leans her face against yours, brushing your lips together and making you lose your line of reasoning. Wanda kisses you softly and suddenly bites your mouth just on the limit so as not to hurt, the gentle pain being a clear reminder of her annoyance, and you grunt softly as she pulls away. " No need to be mean."

She gives a naughty little laugh, licking her lips and attracting the immediate attention of your eyes. 

But your interaction is interrupted when Steve announces that the couple he befriended on the beach earlier was at the gate. Tony Stark, his wife Pepper, and their daughter Morgan had brought more food and drinks for the barbecue, and you whispered that you were going to be as friendly as ever just to tempt her.

The barbecue continues throughout the day. Everyone gets to know each other, and around three, you decide that you would also like to join the pool, and having gotten busy you were not yet in your swimsuit.

You went inside to change and found the bathroom empty. Since everyone was outside and you were only going to put your top on, you didn't lock the door. As soon as you took off your shirt, someone came in. 

Nat closed the door and turned around, surprised to find you without clothes.

"Oh, sorry, my bad." She apologized without any shame, just regret that she had intruded. The problem is that when she went to open the door, the old doorknob made a noise and fell to the floor. "That's not good."

You put on your T-shirt in record time, moving to the door as well.

"Shit." You grumbled, trying to push the door open but to no avail. You immeasurably started to knock, but the loud sound muffled it. "No, no, no."

Natasha gave a confused giggle at your reaction. "Look, that sucks, but I promise I'm not the worst company to be locked up with." She jokes, a little unsure, after all, she was the girlfriend of one of your close friends and just wanted to make a good impression.

You gesture to her quickly. "Oh, no, it's not you. I just need to get out of this bathroom before my wife dreams that I ended up in a small space with a beautiful woman."

"Well, thank you." She retorts and you grunt in embarrassment, but Nat seems to be finding the whole thing amusing. She leans on the wall next to the door, pulling out her cell phone and you sigh impatiently, trying to slam the door again.

Shortly after, you hear footsteps and knock harder.

"Hey, we're stuck!" You warn.

"Mom?" it's Tommy's confused voice, and you sigh in relief.

"Yes, honey, Aunt Nat and I got stuck in the bathroom, try calling Uncle Pietro without alerting anyone and-"

"MAMA! MOMMY GOT STUCK IN THE BATHROOM WITH AUNT NATASHA" Tommy shouts into the hallway with a mischievous laugh, and you feel your body freeze. Even Nat laughs softly at your reaction.

Wanda moves so fast out of her seat that the pillows hit the floor. She reaches the door in a rage and starts knocking hard.

"Y/N? OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

You shudder, taking a step away. "Wanda, honey, the lock broke..."

Another loud knock. You heard other footsteps, and the music slowed, so it wasn't hard to deduce that the whole group was in the hallway.

"What happened people?" Pietro asked confused.

"Pietro, Natasha, and I got stuck in here." You replied from the other side and wanted to dig yourself a hole for giggles.

"Everyone out now." Wanda speaking tapped her foot, and you heard footsteps and giggling children, signaling that the children all ran to the pool again. "Y/N, open this door right now!"

You sigh wearily, looking around. Natasha moves as well, grabs a toothbrush, and pats you on the shoulder to make room for her.

"Maybe if we shove this in here..." She comments but is interrupted by a loud exclamation and laughter from the other side.

"SHOVE IT IN? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Wanda questions explosively, and you grunt softly.

"Look, sestra, from the sounds of it it must be good stuff." Pietro sneers, and you hear a slapping noise and another chuckle. 

Natasha seems to be having a hard time holding back her laughter, offering you a frown by Wanda's reaction, but all you do is sigh and sit down on one of the little stools by the door.

"Wanda, relax, I'm sure it's fine in there." Steve tries to reassure her.

"Yes, I'll go look for a screwdriver." It is Bucky who speaks and you hear his footsteps getting away.

"Of course, it's fine, by the way, it's a great opportunity for a bonding hour." Pietro teases getting another chuckle, but you sink your face into your own hands, grumbling in frustration. "Wow, I think they've even started."

The snickering makes you blush with embarrassment, but soon you jump in fright because Wanda gives another loud knock on the door.

"Y/N, I swear to god if I hear any more strange sounds..." She warns between teeth, and you swallow dryly, not even daring to breathe too loudly. 

Natasha gives up trying to open it with her toothbrush, seeing that it wouldn't work and leans back on the wall.

"I don't know about you, Wanda, but sometimes silence can even be worse." Monica joins in the tormentors, and you hear Pietro laughing as well. "who knows what the mouth is doing other than talking"

"Y/N!” Wanda calls immediately with her voice trembling with rage. “Speak! Now!"

You roll your eyes and Natasha answers for you, "Guys, stay calm, everything is under control in here."

"Yes, Wanda, we're just waiting." You say.

"Yeah, Y/N, keep talking!" Your wife warns.

"What's the use of talking, we don't know where her hands are..." Pietro adds making Monica laugh. You place a hand over your face in disbelief.

Wanda's shaky voice calls out to you again. "What are you doing with your hands? Clap them!"

"My god, that's ridiculous." You mutter.

"Clap.Them." Wanda repeats between teeth, her voice laden with irritation, and you sigh impatiently before obeying. "That's it, keep going. I better know where your hands are!"

"Wanda, I won't be-"

"I swear to god Y/N-" She interrupts you and you don't have to command again before you clap your hands again. "That's it, good. Now speak, or sing."

Fuck this.

Pietro and Monica start laughing, and Natasha also gives up on holding in her giggles. Luckily, Bucky comes back with the screwdriver. 

About ten minutes later, the door opens, and you only have time to stare at Wanda in confusion before the woman leaves in a rage and dragging her feet away.

"If she kills me, I will haunt you both." You warn Pietro and Monica, who just laugh at your distress before you follow the same path as Wanda.

Although it is not really your fault, you feel very bad to find your wife on the verge of tears, with her arms crossed and sitting on the sand, a few meters away from the house.

You sigh softly, making noise with your steps to announce your arrival before sitting down beside her.

"Sorry." You murmur and Wanda shudders, keeping her gaze on the ocean. "I should have, um, locked the door before the doorknob broke."

"I'm not mad." She grumbles. "I know it wasn't your fault."

You look at her with concern. "Then...why are you crying?"

"I don't know." She answers with a soft sniffle, wiping her tears away quickly. "It's stupid."

You sigh, moving one of your fingers to give the strap of her shorts a gentle tug, "Come on, talk to me." You insist sweetly, and Wanda takes a deep breath, her gaze on her own feet.

"I just... it's stupid, but sometimes, I have these thoughts. About you, finding someone cooler or I don't know, hot. Someone who does things more fun than cleaning the carpet or preparing kids' breakfasts. Or I don't know, some of the incredibly interesting people you meet every day who actually go places instead of spending the day writing about it." Wanda blurts out, and you sigh deeply. 

She has never said these insecurities to you. Not since college at least. And because you were so sincerely in love with her, the possibility that Wanda might feel insecure never crossed your mind.

"Hey, come here." You call out to her, bringing your hands to her hips. "Where did that come from?" 

Wanda hides her face in your chest, her cheeks burning. "I don't know, it just did come." She mumbles against your skin. 

Before, when you were younger and more hesitant, you would often reassure her. But after marriage, god, after children, you just assumed Wanda knew she was the love of your life. But she apparently still let her insecurities get the best of her. And it was okay.

"Sometimes I think you'll meet a super literature genius and forget about me." You confess to her as you hold her, and Wanda gives a confused little laugh. 

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm." You mutter. "Remember when you won that writing contest last summer, and that handsome professor came over to ask for your number?"

"And I said I was married?" Wanda asks raising her gaze to you.

"Yep, that's the one." You say. "I was so insecure all night because all my head could think about was you moving on with someone far more intelligent and well resolved."

"That's ridiculous, I love you."

"I know, that's exactly my point." You retort with a chuckle that she accompanies. "Besides, that night you couldn't even wait for us to get out of the car so you obviously were crazy about me-"

Wanda smacks you in the ribs, laughing along with you. "Idiot." She says, sliding her arms around you.

"Sorry for making you clap your hands." She asks then, and you laugh softly. 

"It's okay, baby." You say. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"Can I get a kiss first?" She asks with a pout raising her eyes to you. 

"Hmm, as many as you want." You whisper back, leaning in to meet her mouth and feeling her smile against your lips. Wanda slides her tongue against yours slowly, and you move your hands down to squeeze her ass, pushing her against your hips and getting an affected sigh. "Just for the record, Maximoff. You are the hottest woman in the world." You compliment with your eyes ajar, smiling at the way that although she rolls her eyes, her cheeks turn pink.

–//–

The last day of the weekend had everything to be perfect, so it was the most disastrous of all.

Someone - you prefer not to accuse, although everyone knows who sleeps in the living room takes care of those things - forgot to close the windows, and the early morning rain got half the appliances on the countertop wet and damaged. Pietro was quite grumpy without his coffee.

The children have become even more energetic in the last day, and almost impossible to keep up with. You lost sight of Tommy for the fourth time and were trying to help Billy get his arm out of a jar when you heard the sound of something falling.

The whole house heard it, actually, and in record time, it was the whole group outside, where Tommy had just fallen off an old ladder trying to climb the fence.

"What are these kids taking?"  Steve asks half startled, but you are busy going to check on your son who has apparently twisted his wrist.

"Mommy's hurting." Tommy whimpers as you sigh nervously, grabbing his arm to check.

"It doesn't look broken dear. Come on let's put some ice on it." 

Aside from Tommy's injury, apparently, Wanda couldn't decide whether to stay on good or bad terms with you this weekend. As soon as she finished checking for the tenth time that her son wasn't forcing his injured hand, she sent you one of her angry glances on the way to the bathroom and you sighed in confusion, the sound attracting the attention of Monica, who was preparing lunch next to you.

"Everything okay there, Y/N?" She asked gently, and you forced a smile.

"Yeah, it's nothing." You mumble, but meet Monica's gaze and sigh. "It's just Wanda."

"Are you two going through a crisis?" she teases but you widen your eyes.

"What? Why, did she say something?"

Monica gives a confused giggle, "No, Y/N, I'm just teasing you." She assures you still smiling, and finishes throwing some of the vegetables into the pot. "Is this about the house? Cause it all turned out to be fun."

"God, I have no idea." You gasp softly in frustration. "She keeps having these mood swings, one minute we're in paradise and the next she looks ready to jump at my neck."

"Oh, but that makes sense for someone in her condition." Monica mutters and you frown in confusion. Seeing your face, the other woman hesitates.

"What condition?"

Monica gives a nervous little laugh, shaking her head. "I meant, I imagine she was nervous about the dismissal from the company and-" She starts to reel, but you cut her off:

"Monica, what condition?"

The woman sighs in defeat. "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know Wanda hadn't told you yet." She says twisting her fingers. "She found out she's pregnant."

You give a short laugh, thinking it's a joke. But Monica's face doesn't have a trace of humor in it. 

"B-but we haven't been trying for months and-" you stammer but shut up when you realize that the possibility is quite possible. Because you had tried, a lot, to increase the family a few months ago with the whole homemade insemination and donation sperm, until the layoffs at Bishop started happening and as the tests kept showing negative, you and Wanda left the idea for later. But, apparently, it had worked. 

"I'll get you some water." Monica says as she sees your pallor, but you turn around, shaking your head.

"No, I'm fine. I need to talk to my wife." That's what you say before you drop the food knife and leave the kitchen.

Wanda is packing the boys' bags in the last room when you run into her. Everything would be fine if she weren't sniffling softly.

You close the door gently, sighing so she won't be startled, and she quickly wipes her face.

"Hey, sweetheart." You greet her by moving closer and sitting down next to her on the bed, knee to knee. "Why are you crying?"

Wanda gives a tearful laugh. "I have no idea." She replies making you smile affectionately, one hand moving to intertwine with hers in her own lap, and Wanda smooths out one of Billy's t-shirts with the other. "I was just packing up the boys' things and it occurred to me how fast they grew up, and before I knew it, I was crying."

You hum in understanding, moving your face to kiss her on the cheek as Wanda closes her eyes for a minute, trying to control her own emotions. "I'm sorry." She murmurs, and you shake your head, playing with your fingers.

"Don't apologize." You whisper back. "I would never be angry with you for that. I would never be mad at you for anything."

She lets out a soft laugh, turning her face to you. "Not even for accidentally recording Bewitched over your The Office?"

"The keyword is accidentally." You retort good-naturedly, making her laugh as well. Wanda leans against you, and you drop her hand to slip an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Baby, is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Your question makes Wanda tense up, but your gentle caresses with your fingers along her arm make her sigh and relax eventually. It takes a few minutes, but she finally says:

"I found out last week." She confesses, and you sigh softly. "Who told you?"

"Monica."

"I'm going to kill her." You laugh, and so does Wanda, pulling away to look at you.  "I'm so sorry-

"Stop apologizing, Wanda." You interrupt her tenderly, rubbing your noses together affectionately for a moment. "We both wanted to and did it together."

"But that was before-"

"I know." You cut in with a soft chuckle, using your other hand to tuck loose strands of Wanda's hair behind her ear, meeting her worried emerald eyes. "We're going to be fine, darling. I know it's a scary time, but we'll manage. We always do."

Wanda sighs, looking at you for a second. "I love you."

She confesses, making you smile affectionately.

"And I love you." You assure, resting your forehead against hers. Wanda breaks the distance to give you a sweet kiss, smiling against your lips. When she pulls away, you exchange passionate glances. "How many weeks?"

Wanda gives a short laugh. "Almost four months, darling."

You gasp in surprise, pulling back. "No way!" You comment, moving your hands to her blouse, and lifting it up making Wanda laugh at your enthusiasm. You place your hands on her belly. "She's been hiding..."

"She?"

"Oh, yes, definitely a girl. I can feel it." You murmur, moving your hands to Wanda's hips, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of you adjusting to lay her down on the bed and be on top. "I wonder when we made her..."

Wanda bit back a chuckle, feeling you fit a leg between hers. "Well, four months ago, I was working from home every day."

"Hmm, so I guess it was right on your desk, sweetheart." You retort to her as you lower your lips to her neck, and Wanda gives a soft little laugh, remembering all too well how many times you almost broke her office desk. Your hands are coming down dangerously, but the sound of the children outside makes you sigh in frustration against her neck. Wanda feels hot and shares your dissatisfaction at having to stop. "We need a vacation for just the two of us, Wanda."

"I agree." She comments with a smile, kissing you more tenderly.

You knew things were going to be okay. You had Wanda. And it would only take a week for you to get a call from Eternals Inc, and another two for you to get back to work. And less than a month later, booking tickets for a cruise on your anniversary.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

[s1k0zu]

Hey guys,

I saw Dune II, twice, a while back, and I still can't get Austin's performance out of my head. He was amazing! 😍

I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately and a scene has been playing on repeat in my mind, so I decided to write it down.

I love all the Feyd fics but I find myself wanting more of Austin and less of Feyd (he's just a bit too intense). So I came up with the idea below.

Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to write about something else. 🫣

Fair warning ⚠️ I've never written any fiction before, so this will probably be a mess...

🔞 It's pure smut, so minors stay away!

Under his skin

You and Austin have been together since before his Elvis movie.

You'd met when you were teenagers and became fast friends, but until you had to spend two weeks locked together in his apartment in Australia, because of the pandemic, that was all you were - friends.

You'd visited him for the weekend and then the lockdown forced you to stay.

The tension between the two of you had started escalating gradually, until one night he couldn't resist kissing you. All it took was that one kiss and you were his forever.

Fast forward to now, years later, on the set of Dune in Budapest: you're working in the crew, and Austin is in the cast as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Paul's adversary.

It's early morning and it's already as hot as hell. Add to that the giant sound box you've been setting up, so Austin can film his fight scenes in it later, and you're close to fainting.

You've been on location for two weeks now and Austin has been away training. He's flown directly to set and you haven't had the chance to see him yet.

You're done setting up and they tell you he's in his trailer, getting ready, so you head there to wish him luck.

You open the door and cool air hits your face. Then you see him and you're sure the chill running down your body isn't from the AC.

You've seen him in full costume before, but only in photos. This hits differently.

There's something feral and imposing about him and it's doing things to you. It doesn't help that all he's got on is a loincloth.

His body is pure perfection and you know how hard he worked to get here.

"Hey, Earth to y/n. Are you ok?" Austin's voice comes through the fog.

"Yeah", you sigh, "It's just..."

"What?", he asks, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

"Let's just say if you weren't about to shoot, I'd be ruining your makeup right now", you say, raking your gaze over his gorgeous naked body.

"Fuck", he mutters and steps toward you, biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with want.

"Ah, ah", you stop him, placing a hand on his chest, "makeup."

"Damn you woman! How am I supposed to focus now?", he asks brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing next to nothing here," you tell him, "I'll make you a deal - you go slay them with your talent and we can come back here for the lunch break, to finish this."

"Deal", he says in your ear, melting you with his beautiful voice.

A crew member comes in to call him to set and breaks the tension before you two can go any further.

You watch him perform, always in awe of his ability to switch between himself and the character in seconds. You busy yourself with work and bringing him water bottles and towels between takes, and just like that the hours go by and it's time for lunch.

"I can't wait to take this thing off my head. I'm sweating like a pig," Austin says, taking a towel from your hands. He's been doing fighting scenes for the past hour and he's in full combat get up.

"I'll stick around to help with the set. Text me when you're done and we can take a shower," you lean up to give him a quick kiss but he grabs your waist to keep you there, turning it into a steamy makeout session.

"I've missed you so much," Austin breathes out, his forehead touching yours.

"I've missed you too," you say squeezing his hands.

You disengage and he heads to his trailer so the makeup team can remove his bold cap.

A while later you get a text from Austin:

R u coming? We had a deal remember?

You mutter an excuse and head towards his trailer, willing yourself not to run.

#

When you enter, you see him running a hand through his wet hair, the bald cap gone. He still hasn't removed his costume.

"Want some help with that my lord", you ask, starting to unzip the back of his wetsuit.

When he hears you call him that Austin feels a shiver run down his body. He turns and wraps his arms around you.

His eyes are dark with desire and you swear you can see Feyd lurking in the background, ready to pounce.

You grip his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and kiss him long and hard, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite his lip when he pulls away and the groan that escapes from his throat sets your whole body on fire.

You start undressing each other frantically as Austin pulls you into the shower.

You're both panting by the time he turns around to the water tap. You admire his naked body while he adjusts the temperature. He's a work of art - all lean muscle chiselled to perfection.

Your eyes travel down to his thighs and the sizeable erection he's got. His penis is perfect: a round red tip, its length marbled by veins. You can't wait to taste it and feel it inside you.

You can't believe he's yours.

"My eyes are up here, gorgeous", Austin's amused voice brings you out of your dazed wet dream.

"And what a sight they are," you smile up at him.

After seeing your lust-filled stare, Austin can't hold himself back any longer.

His hands come up to grab your face and he bends down to devour you. As the kiss deepens, Austin's hands travel down your body, lingering on your breasts. He breaks the kiss to bend down and lick your neck, slowly descending to your left nipple.

When he puts in his mouth you feel a jolt run over your whole body and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth.

When he hears you moan and feels your hands dig into his back Austin throws caution away and bites down on your nipple, his other hand sliding down to your clit.

"Fuck Austin", is all you can say, your mind going blank with pleasure. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you love this new, dangerous side he's showing you.

Austin groans in pleasure when he hears you moan his name, grabs your hips and lifts you, your back against the tiled wall.

When he breaks the kiss to look at you, you see the passion burning in his eyes, but there's something else there too - something feral. You realise he hasn't shaken Feyd off completely.

That sparks something in you, emboldens you.

"Have your way with me, my lord na-Baron. I'm all yours", you say, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling on it.

A quiet growl escapes Austin's lips and he bends down to crash his lips into yours, sliding into you in one swift move.

Hearing you say that, something in Austin snaps. He can't think anymore, all he knows is that he wants to be inside you, now.

You've been together for years and every time he enters you feels like the first time. It's like your bodies are pieces of the same puzzle. The feel of him inside you is divine.

Austin doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size, he can't even if he wanted to. He's possessed by the desire to be inside you, to own you. He picks up his pace, slamming into you, his teeth leaving red marks all over your neck. His left hand molded to your thigh, his right squeezing your breast.

You've never seen him like this, so forceful and primal, and you realise you love it. As the pain shoots through the pleasure you find yourself coming, trying not to scream. You mould your lips to Austin's to stifle your moans and that just spurs him on.

After a while, Austin comes to his senses and realises he's too rough, he's hurting you. Just as he slows down his pace, releasing you from his grip, he hears you say:

"No, don't hold back. I want you to lose control. Ravage me."

He looks into your eyes and sees only carnal desire and love there. He can't believe you're his.

The little control he'd managed to take back shatters. Austin slips out of you so he can turn you around, your back towards him, and slams back into you.

One of his hands travels to your neck and squeezes, the other goes to your nipple.

This angle helps him sink even deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much and you feel another orgasm coming. Sex with Austin is always great but this is different. He's lost all control and given in to his desire, and you love it.

Austin feels your walls clenching around him and he knows you're close. He moves his hand to your clit, running his fingers in agonisingly slow circles, and right before you both come he inserts two fingers in.

The feeling of his fingers and his penis inside you is too much and you trip over the edge. You claw at his neck and bury your fingers into his hair as he swallows your moans with a kiss when you both come.

You've never seen this side of him before. He's always so protective of you, so gentle. You realise he's been holding himself back, afraid to hurt you.

Your legs are shaking and you're holding onto the tile wall while Austin stops the water. He swaddles you in a huge fluffy towel, picks you up and carries you to the bed.

He lies next to you on his side facing you.

"I'm sorry", he says, giving you a sad puppy look and caressing your face.

"For what? Giving me multiple orgasms?"

"No..." he laughs and then falls silent.

"I hurt you. I don't know what came over me."

"Not what, who. You've still got some of Feyd lurking in the background," you say a soft smile playing on your lips.

"That's not an excuse y/n. I should've stopped..." he trails off, looking remorseful.

"I don't know if you noticed Butler but I liked it. A lot", you lift his head so he can look at you.

"I'm not made of china you know. Promise me you'll stop holding back on me. This was fucking amazing."

"Yeah it was, wasn't it? Okay, but on one condition: you promise to tell me if I cross the line."

"Deal," you say and mould your lips over his.

#austin butler #fiction #feyd x you #austin x reader #smut #austin butler smut #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #first time writer #fanfic

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Reader

Part One | Part Three

With your Captain at the brink of death and little supplies left to keep you covered, the two of you do what little you can to hold out and distract yourselves until help arrives.

TW//: Blood, Mentions of Death

Angst, Drama, Romance, Action, Suspense, Tense, Near Death Experiences, Confessions of Love, Light Fluff, Confessions, Light Bickering, canon inaccuracies probably, but hopefully not, slight character study, medical inaccuracies, I'm no nurse, I'm a film major :(, a mopey rollercoaster, but the ending is worth it hopefully

Word Count: 4.2k

Took me a few days to ponder what I wanted to do with this (I'm so indecisive), but at last, I finished. I wanted it to be sad, I'm not sure if I succeeded, but I promise it's not pointlessly sad (probably isn't even sad). Also, let me know if I should follow this up with a Part 3 (which would be the final part of this, might do it any way but if this was actually garbage I will keep it pushin'). Regardless, I had fun typing this, I felt rusty typing something actually angsty. I hope you enjoy! ( ㄕཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)

taglist: @tapioca-marzipan @spooky-pomegranate

Thank you again, I hope it was worth the wait (T^T)>

Stay awake. You tell yourself again and again -- stay awake. Don't succumb to the fatigue, ignore the pain in your arm, and keep your foot on the gas. It's either that or you lose Price right here and now.

You look over at your Captain after five more minutes had passed, with nothing but the rocky road and its hills ahead of you to keep you company. Price kept his pistol in hand and his tired blue eyes on the perimeter outside the convoy. He didn't have much to say anymore; it was taking all his energy just not to bleed to death.

His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath he forcibly conjured out of himself. By now his blood stained his seat, growing larger with each hill you've passed. Your Captain would be an angel already had you not found more supplies in the vehicle to temporarily patch him up with. Though he seemed adamant about staying alive, nonetheless.

The night sky darkens, and the road ahead demonstrates its need to be endless. Price had told you before that he had no intention of bleeding to death. You desperately want to believe him.

Clouds roll over the moon, which for a while had shared its glow alongside the headlights of your recently stolen convoy. Its absence only makes you feel more boxed in, placed behind the wheel with your dying Captain. The outskirts of Urzikstan appear an even less welcoming place than before. With its encompassing darkness, your fears of what lie in them only grew, the longer you drove and yet to encounter your destination.

The hills now tower around your vehicle like walls, painted pitch black, becoming mountainous the further out you drive. Had you not seen the fallback zone around the corner, you would have thought yourself lost.

You park the convoy a short ways to the rear of the location: a small, rundown house long abandoned since all the fighting in the area re-escalated. The house was on the outskirts of some empty town not too far away that both AQ, the Russians, and the locals avoided, seeing as the next nearest town was where you just left, and anywhere beyond this point was under AQ and Russian control. It should be a safe place to lie low until your exit is available again.

Price made sure there were a few safe areas to fall back to, in case things went wrong during the mission. Which they most certainly did. You wouldn't even have needed to be here in the first place, had everything not continued to go wrong after acquiring the vehicle. Your bad luck has hopefully since ceased.

However, the night hadn't been over yet. That much had been proven true only a half hour ago.

In a matter of minutes after making your vehicular getaway, AQ had caught up to you, all in convoys, and armed to the teeth. Had Nikolai not been around the corner with his helicopter, you and Price would have surely been run off the road at some point, being as injured as you both are and with hardly any ammo left to spare.

You could only see in your rearview mirror the destruction Nikolai created behind you, the sky having lit up with the flames of your unwanted pursuers. It had almost been perfect, until shrapnel and gunfire damaged Nikolai's helicopter too much during that last-second rescue, forcing him to retreat.

You could still picture watching him fly away, seeing that shadowy monstrosity fly off into the sky, until the hills had swallowed it whole. Watching your only exit out of here fly off into the distance absolutely gutted you. The small sliver of hope you hadn't yet lost had all but gone away with him. Yet you knew it was the safest thing to do. Your LZ had been compromised, and it wouldn't have done any good if you all piled on just to get blasted out of the sky moments later.

So instead, a change of plans was made. Nikolai, being the resourceful individual he was, had other means of escape worked out. He just needed to get there first.

Knowing this, your new objective had been clear and simple for you both: Stay alive.

You park the convoy and shut the vehicle off, watching the headlights die and a chilling silence fall in the air. All you can really do is take a moment and breathe.

Your right arm -- still very much broken and in pain -- rested limply in your lap, begging for a sling. A throbbing headache has not left you since taking that RPG blast only an hour or so ago. With having to wait to be saved now, time felt as though an hourglass had just been rested on its side.

You peek back through your window, seeing the empty hills behind you. No one's been in pursuit since Nikolai's interference earlier. Hopefully, their absence meant you'd finally lost them. You felt you had run all out of hope tonight, yet it's all that felt real and obtainable anymore.

"It seems quiet enough," you start to unbuckle your seat belt. "It's probably safe to head inside now."

You wait for your Captain's reply, only to be met with silence.

"Price?"

You look over to find the Captain lying slumped against his seat, his eyes closed and as still as a statue. The sight makes your blood run cold and your heart quake with fear.

"...Price," you reach over and rest a hand on his shoulder, beginning to shake him. Praying that he'll wake up. "Price, stay with me, Captain. Come on, wake up."

You shake and shake him, but the man doesn't budge from his sudden unconsciousness, his body only moving along to the hold you had over his shoulder. At each little shove you make of him, your eyes further lock on the still features of his face, desperation filling you.

You've tried so hard to keep your composure tonight, if not for yourself then for him. You had wanted to return the favor for all the times he's helped you from the brink of death before. The many times Price has been your last glimmer of hope when you feared none was there to have. You wanted to be that for him now. To show him he needn't shoulder such things alone. He couldn't die now.

"Price, please-"

The Captain starts to cough himself out of whatever slumber he'd found himself in, his face grimacing with pain as he hugged his wounded side. "I'm good..." he claims. "...'ave we made it?"

You look at Price, frustrated at his cavalier attitude, despite having been so used to it before. Frankly, your emotions could not handle it at the moment, given the fact that only a second ago you could have sworn he'd just died.

"It's getting worse," you state.

"I'll be fine," he protests.

"Price," he can hear in your tone you're trying to be real with him now. "Just because you wanna act like it's nothing, doesn't mean that it is-"

"Last I checked, we've little time for us to fuck about right now, lieutenant."

"You just passed out."

Price opened his mouth, prepared to argue more, but pauses when he realizes that he can't really argue at all. He had passed out, and he wasn't so prideful to claim that it wouldn't happen again either. So he instead settles down, allowing you to take the reigns and go back to focusing on the important matters.

"...I know," he says. "I'm sorry... Are you holding up alright?"

"I'm doing better than you."

Then that's what matters most, Price had thought. "I don't doubt it," he says. "And here I was hopin' I'd go out in a more dignified fashion than this-"

"Stop it," you take his hand again, shutting down whatever pity talk he was beginning to spew. Not wanting it to worry you that he's gotten to this point. "Look, we're at the safehouse now. That should make not bleeding to death a hell of a lot easier."

"Or at least more comfortable," Price quips. Though your humorless expression only makes him digress. "There should be more supplies inside."

"Let's just get inside before you pass out again."

It's a struggle to get him inside, and twice as much a struggle to patch his wound up. Price had the place generously stocked with a resupply of weapons, ammo, and medkits, though it wouldn't be enough to change the current dilemma that your Captain was in.

Once your arm had been slung (DIY style), you immediately tended to Price. However, having to help stitch with your non-dominate hand was an absolute nightmare, as much as your Captain tried to take over for himself. His hands had grown too shaky to hold the needle, it would slip from his grasp every so often, and you hadn't wanted to see him grow more frustrated with the task.

Of course, watching you struggle to stitch only upset him more. You were mostly silent, though Price would see your throat move hesitantly, swallowing heavily at every sudden urge that came to you that wanted to cry. You hadn't wanted to in front of your Captain, you didn't want him to worry about you.

You wouldn't let any amount of hindrances stop you, you closed the wound, redressed it, and checked on it a second time before Price finally had to tell you it would hold. Though closed or not, it mattered little. He'd lost so much blood at this point that it was a miracle he wasn't dead already.

But miracles only last for so long.

In and out of consciousness, Price thought a lot about how silly it would be if he bled to death right now. In such a helpless state, forced to rely on his subordinate to keep him alive. Someone who had felt more than a subordinate, now more than ever. You've seen him blown out of the sky, near beaten to death, stabbed, shot, and then some.

Twenty years of all the shit he's been through in the force, and a gut wound from shrapnel is what takes him out. He almost found it funny.

Price has told himself his whole life he'd be ready when the time comes. He accepts death every day he wakes in the morning and steps out the door. It didn't mean he'd lay down and die, however, ironic now. One way or another, the man just always knew that when he went out it would be fighting. Because he's fought his whole life, it's all he knows how to do.

All he could ever ask for is to die doing what he loves, and this had been that. However, now that this love has brought him here beside you, giving him the fate he's all but manifested for himself, over years of growing pessimism and a longing to be dignified, suddenly, he finds it funny how life can be. Now all of a sudden he doesn't feel so ready to go. He thought he'd be more prepared.

And it's what's killing him most of all. This helplessness death has now brought him.

Had Price not gone ahead and made sure Nikolai stashed medical supplies in the safehouse in advance, he's certain he would be dead right now. Though as it's been said before, the night's not over yet.

"Lieutenant..." Price calls to you faintly.

You look over at the Captain, seeing him still seated beside you, his back resting against the living room wall. Though he still looked pale, cold sweat dotting his skin, and with labored breaths, at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. You did what you could with what was available, however, you were no field medic.

"What's up?" you reply, though your attention stays out the window, towards the dark perimeter outside the safehouse. By now these hills would haunt your dreams.

You remain posted by one of the front windows, your pistol clutched in your feeble hand. Since redressing Price's wound (and your own), you've been on watch; despite numerous failed (and delirious) attempts by your Captain to take watch himself. He was as adamant to see you in better health as you were to him.

As far as you're concerned, you're the one who's in the best shape here, broken arm or not. Beyond the exhaustion, you still had all of yourself with you. That alone made you obligated to be the one that gets you both out of this mess.

However, this is the clearest the man's ever felt, and something else had been on Price's mind. A thought which crossed him, after some realization came, somewhere between silences.

Price asks you faintly "...Will you talk to me?"

You look at your Captain now, perturbed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothin' beyond the obvious, love," Price shakes his head, before bringing a weak hand up to clear his hoarse throat. "Just tryin' not to livin' the night up by passin' out and fallin' into a coma," he admits.

Fair enough.

"OK..." You turn back to the perimeter, running a million possible icebreakers that you could say right now. It's hard to settle for just one. "Where are we going out to eat after this?"

Price chuckles to himself. "Somewhere with good steak and Guinness would suit me," he jokes.

"Can it be somewhere fancy?" you ask. "I'd love to dress up."

"Mm," Price hums.

You've dressed up a few times before whenever the team went out and there was time. He's always liked how you always kept up appearances, and that it wasn't for any other reason than the fact that you just enjoyed doing so. Evidently, Price has had passing memories of a few choice outfits you've worn, many he wished to see again.

"You've any outfits in mind?" He asks you, wanting you to paint a picture for him. Give him something nice to think about.

You think to yourself for a moment, your ponderous hum filling the silence. "A dress," you state, thinking out loud and conjuring it as you speak, as Price hums with affirmation to each suggestion. "I'm thinking something skin tight... low cut with strings and spaghetti straps. Oh! And with one of those little leg slit things too! And heels."

"That's quite a detailed description," Price teases.

You've had a lot of time to think about it, though you'd never admit that. "Does it sound nice though?"

Had you two been having this conversation elsewhere, Price's mind would have undoubtedly gone somewhere vulgar, only picturing how that dress might look bunched up at your ankles or pushed up in a messy bundle around your waist. He's sure that was your intent when describing it as well.

However, with his mind repeatedly giving way to the black throughout this conversation now, his body gone from numb to feeling light as a feather, all he could picture of you in that dress was the smile you'd have for him instead, with a cluster full of joy shining in your eyes. How happy you would be just to be beside him, just as you are now. In these brief moments where your mind has been taken away from reality.

Does it sound nice, you ask him. You could narrate his dying breath, and the man would have thought it a beautiful thing, having been your words he last could hear before the world finally takes him.

"It sounds lovely," he says.

You swallow, your brave front cracking ever so slightly at his honesty. For some reason, it felt as though gravity just came back to you. You hadn't noticed its absence until now.

"Which is exactly why we're gonna get out of here," you reassure yourself. "So I can model it for you in person, yeah?"

"Exactly why..."

It had been nice talking about something else. Seeing you smiling again had warmed the grown man's heart as greatly as any time before. Price had been itching to see it one more time.

No doubt, he hadn't forgotten about his promise to take you out to dinner once you've both returned. Thinking about it now, at the brink of death without you even knowing... it's a sweet thought, nonetheless.

"I've no idea why you even bother with me..." he says suddenly, his mind fading so much he can hardly hear the words which leave him when they do. However, it had been a growing thought all night.

He's never understood your fondness for him. Price knew he could be hot shit, and he's earned respect from countless of his peers and subordinates alike, but it wasn't because he had been special, he always thought. He saw himself as no different than anyone else on his team choosing to do the same mission.

And surely he was a sorry excuse of a man for putting you through such a thing as this, tonight.

However, the scoff you let out after he says this would suggest you beg to differ.

"Are you kidding?" You say, keeping your gaze out the window, though even from there, Price could see the sudden pride fire up in your eyes. "You're like the greatest guy I know, Captain."

Price chuckles. "...I appreciate that"

"I mean it too," you continue. "We wouldn't be 141 without you. You're smart, you're resourceful, you're kind, but you get shit done too. Not to mention you're a total hunk. You're literally the entire package."

Yeah, you thought, Price is the whole package. There wasn't a man around that you trusted more than your Captain, nor was there anyone you ever wanted respect and companionship from more than his.

You still remember the first time you ever met Price. Laswell practically had to fight the man just to let you onto the team, having doubted your capabilities at the time. And in turn, you were doubtful of him as well.

You'd heard the stories of him back even during your SAS days, talking to the man in short, and tuning him out whenever he grew too overbearing during training. You wanted to say you weren't impressed with him, but even then you could see he wasn't just all talk. So the respect had been begrudgingly earned, to start with.

It wasn't until after a few high-tense missions with him that you finally started to get along. You both may bicker and avoid one another on base, but on the field you two worked together like fire and lightning, perfectly complimenting each other.

Price always was fair and reasonable, giving no doubt to his abilities as a leader. His confidence always felt reassuring in the most stressful of operations. While he could be a hard-ass, he was equally proud and gave praise whenever credit was due. Eventually, you started to crave it.

Price always liked how you listened to him, trusting his judgment and taking his advice. He's seen you grow and learn, watching you bleed for your comrades and step into the fire ready, just as he does, and that alone had been respectable to him. You had been so happy to have it too.

The hostility simmered into being cordial, before becoming neutral, and then casual. Your talks warmed, as did your times together. After a while, Price had been as synonymous to you as home ever could be. With all you two have been through, and all the times he's helped you since knowing him, you owe it to him to be his support this time.

"Whenever I'm around you I..." You speak again, but pause shortly, trying to think of the right words to say. "I feel safe," you say. "Like everything's going to be OK, and that soon it'll all be over. Because you're here. I mean, when you pulled me out from that rubble and I saw that you were OK, I just..."

It had felt wrong to ever even have had any doubts then. Because of course Price had been fine, it was Price. That's just who he was.

"I don't think I've ever met a man I've felt so safe around before in my entire life," you say. "Even now-"

You look over, only to be greeted by your Captain lying slouched against the wall, his eyes closed and completely still. Irresponsive. Your smile drops, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

"Captain?"

No response.

You immediately rush to his side and check for a pulse on his neck, your heart shattering when you couldn't find it.

"Price?" Your voice is practically at a whisper now, unable to use your vocal cords to full use, from fear of your voice breaking apart altogether. You place your hand on the side of his face, his skin so cold it makes you shiver, feeling your lip start to quiver and your vision blur with hot tears.

Even now, a small part of you was simply waiting to see him open his eyes again. Expecting him to shrug this off like he does with everything else so easily.

The whole time you sat kneeled in front of your Captain, you kept questioning how you could have let this happen, scolding yourself for this catastrophe. So many emotions flooded within you at one moment, you almost felt unable to process. You wanted to throw up, it was so much. It instead halts you there like a statue, your face frozen blank.

Your grievances are interrupted upon hearing a vehicle approaching outside. Suddenly, you really take in the fact that you're by yourself now. Your heart races, your hands starting to shake and your breathing growing quick. You were on your own.

You press your back against the wall, keeping your pistol close to you. You watch the headlights from outside pool through the window, illuminating the living room and remaining there.

The comms were beside Price; Nikolai would surely notify you if it was him outside. AQ couldn't have found you so soon, could they have?

With a broken arm and your own intuition left, you close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall, repeating to yourself at a whisper, "Please be Nik. Please be Nik. Please be Nik..."

Your comms buzz. "Price, Price, come in," Nikolai radios in. "Help has arrived!"

You let out a broken exhale. For the first time all night, you actually felt some real relief. Though, it was quickly drowned out once you looked back over towards your Captain, still lying there. Only a few minutes shy of being able to know you both would have been rescued tonight.

You reach around Price to grab the comms and radio back in to Nikolai. "Give me a minute, Nik."

You set the comms down, kneeling back in front of your Captain, tears burning in your eyes, your chest on fire.

Seeing him like this had felt so surreal. So unfitting. So unfair.

"Oh John…" You bring your hand down to Price's, holding tightly as his large fingers sat limp in your grasp. Cold and bloodied. You couldn't bring yourself to part from him now. "…I'm so sorry."

Price's hand suddenly twitches in your palm, making you gasp rather meekly. You watch him slowly pry his heavy eyelids open, and he reciprocates the hold you have over his hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Letting you know he was alive.

"… I'm right here," Price breathes out. "I'm here…"

Your gasp is broken with both relief and joy, a smile growing on your face and tears streaming down your cheeks. He was alive after all. Of course he was. This is your Captain. This is who John is; forever the class act.

A ping of frustration then hits you, bringing you to shove your Captain suddenly.

"Easy now," he says sarcastically.

"Don’t ever do that again!" you yell at him. "You scared me half to death, you asshole!"

Price raises an eyebrow at your outburst. He then sighs to himself, looking ahead of himself. Content.

"Ah, well…" He retakes your hand again, holding it in his lap for a spell, letting his thumb caress your skin, as he thinks slowly to himself. His breath is as broken as his hand feels in yours, with so much on his mind still left to say. He wouldn't miss these chances no longer. "I love you too."

You open your mouth to speak but then pause. Did he just say that to you? He loves you. Your heart jumped for joy. You didn't lose him after all.

You no longer cared if you looked weak, or unprofessional, or even too emotional, the tears come out and everything you'd been keeping bottled releases into broken sobs, and it feels so good to let them out. You lean into your Captain, burying your head into his chest to cry, which springs a pained "oof" from him in return.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you sit up and wipe the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry... I really thought I lost you."

"I'm not goin' nowhere," he says. "We've still got that dinner later."

A big, giddy smile paints your face, and then, with a lifetime of moments worth of waiting and build-up to help guide you, you lean forward and let your lips come to Price's. Just in case. You didn't want to take any more chances.

You kiss Price softly, tasting the blood on his tongue and feeling the sting of his beard against your face. He could have been covered in mud for all you cared. You pull your lips away quickly, not having wanted to take up too much time. However, Price chases your lips as you part, finding your mouth again and kissing you back just as longingly. He finally lets himself celebrate the end of this night and the start of tomorrow.

( ´•̥̥̥o•̥̥̥`)♡(˘̩̩̩̩̩̩ ⌂ ˘̩̩̩̩̩̩) part three

#call of duty #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #captain john price #captain price #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #Spotify

[hopelesswritergall]

I went full Picsart on this!

Requested by no one other than my imagination and inspired by @valeskafics and @sapphire-writes . Just their entire blogs, go read it!

Thank you @annikin-im-panicin for helping me out with some of them!

Warnings: Alcohol, throwing up. Let me know if I missed any.

Taglist: None, Lmk if you want to be added!

Yes you are a silly drunk and yes I used silly nicknames.

Is it implied that you are sorta fwb with almost everyone? Yes yes it is.

Reblogs,Comments and follows are greatly appreaciated. Let me know what you thought about it!

Modern!Aegon

If this bitch ain’t the one who got you drunk then he sure is the one who gets to have fun!

He got a call from you which was just gibberish, the only thing he could pick up was drunk, pick me up and party. His face: 🤨. TF is he supposed to do with party?! But luckily for him he made you install friend locator. Hah suck it Y/N it is useful and it was worth spending money on for the premium version! He will so rub it in your face later on.

So let’s say he does find you at 3 am absolutely hammered. Like you just went into a liquor store and bought it all. That’s how Aegon described it but we can’t really trust this little shit.

First of all he safely parked the car before walking towards you, and him being the little annoying cunt he is started filming it all. He got all your weird drunk confessions that should have stayed in the dark. “Aegon your uncle Daemon is like hot. So are your mom and aunt. Why is everyone so handsome!” You clutched onto him as if your life depended on it. “Whoa Princess, I know I’m super attractive and all that but no need to rip out my hair.”

The walk to his car should have been really short but…. no. You being supported by him decided to try to go pet a cat walking down the street. The cat did not like you and it did not end well. “Why does everyone hate me!?” Cue your crying and Aegon just desperately trying to stifle his laugh.

An extra stop at the pharmacy to get some band aids for you. You insisted on the Disney ones, cause they looked cool. At this point he was just straight up laughing at you.

His apartment was closer than yours and with your state you just needed a fucking shower and sleep. So he just took you to his apartment, and looking back he was really glad helaena lived down the street.

He carried you inside as your legs gave up and called Helaena to help you get ready. Normally the boy wouldn’t mind but even Aegon knows that a drunk person should be treated with care and not getting fucked by him in the shower. Which you totally didn’t do once or twice……..

When you were all cleaned up Helaena took her leave and you guys were alone again. “Alright Princess, you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he couldn’t finish his sentence before you already started to huff. “What’s the matter?” “Don’t want to sleep alone Aeggy.” you said. “Want me to stay with you?” Aegon asked. He didn’t mind, of course he didn’t! He just wanted you to feel comfortable. “Mhm.” Cue the quick nodding from you.

So he held you in his arms till you woke up. Then he just laughed at you but did give you painkillers. Cause he ain’t that much of a bitch.

Modern!Aemond

He is the friend who said: “Do you need me to pick you up after the party is over?” And dumbass you said: “No don’t worry I won’t get that drunk.” You did you did get that drunk

But Aemond half believing you was in his comfortable clothes at his home 30 minutes away from you watching Gilmore Girls. (He just looks like he would enjoy it).

When suddenly his phone rang. “Hello with Aemond.” As soon as he said that fucking crying could be heard from the other line. “Aem I’m lost.” He could barely make out the words you said. “Y/N, baby where are you?” Frantically searching his car keys while also talking to you led to multiple things ending up on the floor. Nothing shattered but still a bloody mess. What he does for you is insane.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be crying…” Okay she had a fair point. “Alright miss im so smart. Where was the party? At who’s place?” “At Starks place. You know the one dude.” “Yes . I’m familiar with him. I’ll come and search for you. Just try to find a recognisable place. Like a 7/11 or something like that? Aight love? Can you do that for me?” Aemond knew he shouldn’t be driving and talking on the phone but you were a different story’s. He loved you and he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone, drunk and most possibly scared.

“I SEE A LIGHT! OMG ITS A CASINO.” Your shouting almost made him go deaf. Aemond blinked a few times before calmly replying. “Thanks love I think I know where you are.” Followed by a quick sigh of him getting the ear damage. “I’m going to bet my money.” You said and Aemond could just hear your smile through the phone. “No no missy, you are staying at the front of the building alright?” “Yes sir!”

Once he finally found you he noticed you were wearing one shoe. He made the connection that you had been killing you ankles walking on one heel this entire time. “You couldn’t take off the other heel?” He asked you with a small chuckle at your drunk antics. “Uhm no. I had to be fashionable.”

“Come on love. Your carriage awaits” he opened the door for you and smiles as you giggled at his choice of words.

The ride home was calm and nothing but silence. That was a lie!

You spent the entire ride telling him about everything you thought you saw. "Bettany kisses Jason,even though she was with James." You whispered, almost scared or being heard.

"OH no!" Aemond feigned surprise and put his hand dramatically to his head.

When you did finally come home he was sure to bath you very very gently. Not touching you in any way. (He is very polite and a gentleman)

You have had slept together on multiple occasions before. Maybe fucking maybe not. Who knows......

So it wasn't a problem for him to just put on his pyjama and get into bed next to you just holding you till you slept.

He was sure to remind you to listen to him more often

Modern!Daemon

Some background info. This can be interpreted as dilf daemon cause it is mentioned that Jace is his stepson.

So his stepson Jacaerys asked to throw a party in the mansion this Friday evening. Who was Daemon to refuse? Especially after he mentioned he would be inviting his childhood friend Y/N.

Oh if only Jace knew what is going on between his step-dad and best friend . Well maybe better if he didn't. ;)

So he quickly accepted the proposal but on one condition! Daemon was allowed to stay in the mansion at all times

He didn't really attend the party until he spotted you entering, an suddenly he was seemingly everywhere where you were.

It became kind of difficult to pretend nothing was going on between you and Jace's stepfather, but thank the gods for Alcohol!!

Jace would be drunk and had caught you guys making out, but instead of reacting right there and then he just left. Weird..

But somewhat later when you made yourself presentable again. he approached you. You were completely prepared for him to shout at you. Instead he goes like: "Bro, I think im hallucinating. I just saw you and Daemon's hallucination make out."

"Yeah, weird......"

You could've left like any sane person would do, but luckily for us you aren't. You went straight to the alcohol, doing shots and sipping combinations i would not recommend.

Daemon had been in the shadows after getting caught. Like Rhaenyra knows about it, hell Daemon knows about Harwin. But they were like, we love each other but also others.

Jace however wasn't aware yet.

So when he saw you drinking that awfully mixed abomination. Like he didn't stop you, but he also didn't cheer it on.

The party went on for a while and after about an hour (don't factcheck me on this one) the drink really hit you like a train.

My god, you were challenging everyone to literally everything. You had lost your coat and were just walking around with a tank top and shorts in the evening while its Winter!!

So Daemom came to the rescue. Grabbing your coat and pulling you away from the mass, he checked if you had any injuries.

"I'm taking you home, you cant go home yourself in this state."

"State? We're not in the United States?" "Oh dear."

He informed a half passed out Jace that he was taking you home and Daemon thinks he half got the message

While driving you home you were like Grogu in that one scene. Touch everything!!

"No love, you just locked the doors. No thats the radio. What do you mean with: Why do i not have a turbo?"

Daemon could feel grey hairs coming.

Once at your flat he used the emergency key and led you inside.

"Wow, who lives here?" Daemon thought you were kidding when you said that.

"Stay put! I do not want you moving off this couch, im going to grab you some stuff so do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be"

You saluted him. "YES SIR YES."

He knew where you kept your tea, heating pad and Ibuprofen.

He ended spending the night there to watch over you. Mama bear Daemon at its finest.

Modern!Jace

Daemon is a caring type after things go south, Jace is a Mom friend all the time.

When you told Jace about the party he gave the usual lecture. “Call me when you arrive and leave. Don’t forget to drink water and don’t die.”

Normally Jace would’ve joined you but he unfortunately had to do a project with Cregan.

So off you went, feeling amazing and fabulous in your new outfit.

It wasn’t that far away from your guy’s apartment, you have been sharing it since a year now.

So you went walking, that would’ve been a big problem later. Especially for Jace.

When you arrived everything was fine, nice music, good vibes and good drinks.

After getting a few light drinks you started to up the game. Doing a few shots. As you took a whiskey shot you could feel it burning.

Listen normally you would be responsible and stop drinking all these stuff at the same time, but yeah……. Not this time.

Mix after mix after different drinks.

As expected you ran to the toilet and there it came. The aftermath of your actions. Well not even the aftermath just consequences

Aegon being a slightly good friend called Jace. Did it come out coherent? NO. But it’s the thought that matters.💕

“Y/N? Oh wait Aegon. Why are you calling from Y/N’s phone. Did she die?!” Jace was already putting on his shoes while talking on the phone.

“Threwssdd upps”

How the fuck was Jace suppose to decipher that gibberish?

“Are you at the main dorm?” “Yes.”

“Alright I’m coming, just don’t let die”

Our homeboy Jace was speed walking until he heard the music

As he entered the house he could see you, with Aegon. He was trying his best to hold your hair out of your way. He did a decent job at it.

“Thanks Aegon, I’ll handle her further.”

“Alright pretty lady, let’s get your hair out of your face first.” Jace pulled out his emergency hair tie he always had on him and tied your hair in a ponytail.

He hoisted you up and let you lean on him while walking. This time he decided that the walk through the park would be better since it had more lights so you could see where you were going.

You immediately got interested by the violets that were growing there. “Oh my god! So pretty they also smell,” And you threw up again. “Nice.” You finished your sentence.

“Let’s just get you home safely and get you to get it all out of your system love.”

After what felt like the longest fucking walk in history you finally made it home. Jace dropped you off at the bathroom, so he could grab some supplies.

He grabbed water, water and more water. :D

#hotd headcanon #modern hotd #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon #hotd #hotd fic #hotd x reader #hotd headcanons #Jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #Aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aemond x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #aegon targaryen x reader #modern!aegon targaryen #modern!aemond #modern!daemon #modern!jace

[olivia091108]

For the film

Summary:y/n and Johnny are doing a film together and are fake dating to promote the film

Word count:1.6k

Pairing:Johnny Knoxville x reader

Getting a call from the director is never good so I walk into his office to see what’s wrong. When I see that Johnny is there I’m not as worried it’s probably something about a script change. I take a seat next to Johnny and ask what’s going on

The movies coming out in 4 months and we’re trying to find a way to promote it.

“Cant you just put out billboards like everyone else?” Johnny asks

“That’s what everyone does I want to do something exciting so me and the team came up with you two pretend to date”

“What?! What do you mean”

“Just going out on dates and being seen together then the paparazzi will put out the pictures and in interviews you can say how you fell in love and once the films out your done easy”

“No one’s gonna believe that”

“Your actors just act. Speaking of we’ve wrapped for the day since we’re trying to find locations”

Me and Johnny leave his office and it’s a bit awkward to be honest because I know that we kiss for the movie but this is different it’s actually real

“Wanna come round mine and we can figure this out” Johnny’s voice snaps me out my thoughts and I nod

“I’ll be round in an hour”

“Alright see you then”

Johnny’s house was really nice it was the right size for him and inside is decorated and it’s quite clean for Johnny. He just finished getting us a takeaway from burger king and he comes back in holding two beers and hands one to me.

“Ok so i was thinking if were going to be doing interviews they will obviously ask how it happened so we should figure that out any ideas.”

“We has mind blowing sec and you couldn’t get enough of me” he says it so seriously i could barley tell if he was joking.

“No how about we were flirting on set a lot i like you you like me and we kiss and then go out on a date.”

“Boring we should go out to a club or bar and then we come outside kiss make sure paparazzi get the shot then you come back to mine.”

“What so its like a one night stand then we fall in love. I don’t think so that would only be talked about for 3 weeks tops.”

After 10 minutes the food got here and we still hadn’t decided on anything and with a couple of empty beers next to me i was getting a but tipsy

“Ok ok ok how about we get seen together doing normal co star things but it gets more girlfriend boyfriendy until like a month and a half before the films released where we confess to dating”

“Thats actually a pretty good idea fir someone whos drunk” taking extreme offence to that i start denying profusely.

“Your too drunk to drive stay here tonight”

“Thanks johnny”

“its fine doll”and he shows me to the guest bedroom and i get straight into bed with my clothes on and fall asleep straight away.

When we get to set i have a hangover its not too bad but it will be a long day. I go to the makeup department and then go to wardrobe and get into costume.

After filming a few scenes me and johnny are just hanging out by my trailer sitting on the steps to it when i see Claire trying to hide behind one of the other trailers

“You ok claire?”

“Oh yeah im great you too just keep doing that ill just be back here”shes obviously hiding something

“Claire what are you doing?”

“I got sent here to take photos of you two”

“You could have just said” i chuckle at her and turn to johnny and put hi hand on my thigh and just tell him to keel talking while i smile.we hear a few clicks of claires camrea

“You got it?”johnny asks. “Yeah thanks guys”

It was like that the rest of the week and by Friday we were front page

Johnny Knoxville and co-star y/n y/l/n are seen canoodling on set of new movie

The following week me and Johnny are seen going to eatchothers apartments and seen with eatchothers friends. It’s honestly quite funny because me and and Johnny already do this stuff.

After a month of that sort of things happening we are actually going to Hawaii to film the rest of the movie. It was about 5:45 am when i got to the airport and i was dressed in practically pjs but as soon as i got there my eyes got blinded by paparazzi and Johnny came over to me and held my hand to get me inside.

It didn’t stop there though on the plane even our director was taking photos and telling us how to pose saying things like “put your arm round her johnny” “y/n lean on him” “now pretend to fall asleep on eatchother”

Once we got to Hawaii I immediately wanted to look around ad spend time in the beach but first I had to work. We were shooting a. Scene where the whole cast was going on a tour in the rainforest but Johnnys character gets us lost from the group

It was great there were so many animals and this one monkey kept clinging onto me and during on of the takes he jumps down onto me and starts wrapping itself round me and I wanted to keep it ad once we had finished filming i didnt want to say goodbye

By the time we got back to the hotel the sun was about to set so I wanted to head to the beach and watch the sunset and go for a swim.

The sunset was beautiful and the water wasn’t too cold and I began to float on my back and swim to the bottom picking up one of those shells that you can hear the beach in

Once i resurface I see Johnny watching me and I swim over and get out the water heading over to him.

“Look what I found isnt it gorgeous”i proudly show off the shell but as the wind picks up I shiver and Johnny pulls me into his chest not even caring that I’m drenched. I look up at him and he smiles before looking back at the sunset and I wrap mr arms round his waist and lean in even more to try and warm myself up and we watch the sunset.

“I was thinking we’ve finished the film and soon we will have to show everyone that we’re dating so we should kiss” I tell him

“Now?”

“Why not it’s not like we haven’t before and anyway I see Claire hiding over there.”

I wrap my arms round his neck and lean up to kiss him slow at first and I feel his hands glide down my back to grab at my ass wich makes me smile against the kiss.

My feelings for Johnny changed after that its like every time I saw him i didn’t want to pretend ro date him I wanted to actually date him so now in every situation I foul I would convince him that we need to kiss or ho on a fare fir the paparazzi.

Me and Johnny have a collection of magazines. Every time we were published we would buy the magazine and go round one of our houses and laugh about the things they would say.

“Omg that photo is awful why would they choose that” I would complain

“You look gorgeous doll”I immediately felt butterfly’s swarm my stomach

“Your ass looks better than mine in those jeans” i point at him on the front cover

“Your tits look great” I grab the magazine and stare at the photo of us on the beach. “Omg they look huge”

But now every tine a magazine would say stuff about the two of us I wanted it to be real like him for real taking me to dinner and fur real spending the night at eatchothers houses not just as friends and fir real him kissing me.

Tonight is the premier of our movie and by next week we will break up but im just going to enjoy it while it lasts. Im wearing a black dress with a snake going down my spine and deep cut to show off my cleavage.

While in the taxi I want to confess my feelings to him before we break up so now’s the time

“Johnny I have something I have to say. I like you like more than s friend I have for a while now and I know that we were only pretending to promote the movie but the pat 4 months have been the best of my life snd I know that you probably dont care bu-

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss and it gets cut off as the driver announces that we are here.

I walk onto the red carpet Johnny with his arm round my waist and we pose together and do some interviews before he kisses me and ive never seen more flashes in my life and I know this will make front page.

I feel like its rushed but it literally took me 4 hours so I hope you like it

-liv

#liv’s writing #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader

[seiberries]

Hello! Can I ask you for Rin, Reo, Nagi and Chigiri headcanons? How they'd react if they find out that their s/o is an amazing dancer (maybe something like k-pop girls group cover dance or something like this)? Thank you so much!

thanks for the request!! i like dancing, so this was fun to write! <3

blue lock boys: kpop cover dancer s/o hcs

includes: chigiri hyoma, itoshi rin, mikage reo, nagi seishiro warnings: mild swearing!

chigiri hyoma

finds out as you film a cover in front of him, he smiles the whole time. you really were so amazing; he basically falls in love all over again.

the boy’s heart warmed, loving that you were enjoying yourself.

were you really his? it becomes one of the rare moments where chigiri is rendered speechless- no playful banter or snarky comments.

after the song finishes, the air is loud with claps from your boyfriend; his eyes showed all that he felt.

wants to learn from you, honestly. dancing requires a lot of focus and precision with how different body parts coordinate, so he asks about how you change your legs to go from once dance move to another.

there are concepts from dancing that he starts to utilize on the field.

while memorizing steps isn’t for him, he really enjoys doing just dance. it’s a competition that way, winner gets a wish from the loser.

oh, it’s so on.

itoshi rin

he’s really impressed, though he won’t express it out loud.

and that is because, rin... can’t really dance.

his body programmed itself to know football and football only, so he finds dancing very impressive.

the striker somehow finds you even more alluring than you already are, a silent pride fills his chest.

he catches himself humming the songs you dance to, they’re in a private playlist of his. it’s hidden, and he has to be alone to listen to it.

imagine the shit the other blue lock boys would give him for listening to TWICE, his image would be ruined. (in his opinion, he’d rather not hear shidou yap about it.)

you know about it though, it’s incredibly cute. his airpods disconnected, you heard cupid by FIFTY FIFTY play from his phone as he showered.

when he came out, a knowing look glossed your face- rin could practically hear your thoughts.

you yapping about it was okay, he’d much rather you than the antennae freak. (rin would probably return the broken nose to his teammate if it were the case.)

has multiple anonymous accounts to like your videos, and you have no idea about it. if anyone ever leaves a bad comment, rin is on their ass in dms.

the things he says to them would make even sae shiver.

mikage reo

reo insists to fund your covers, immediately.

the outfits you wear are suddenly the same as what the idols are styled with. the locations where you film at are reserved entirely for you, no distractions. even the filming process, which originally just consisted of you recording and editing- now involved a team of professionals.

he loves spoiling you.

i imagine that he likes to dance with you too, he’s very willing to learn choreography. multiple videos are uploaded with both of you dancing.

totally a natural too, his moves are fluid. dancing becomes a shared pastime for you two, he documents all of it to brag about how wonderful his s/o is.

his favorite concepts are refreshing ones, he listens to new jeans frequently. (hype boy and omg are his top songs!)

tell him your favorite group, he’ll have a private meet and greet arranged by the time their next comeback happens.

with a text from reo telling you to go downstairs, you’ll just be surprised to find your ult group sitting at your dining table.

nagi seishiro

the boy doesn’t understand how you can memorize so many movements, and then execute them after. it looks like so much work. (it is!)

when nagi watches you dance, he really watches. it’s like he takes note of every action you put out, his attention solely on you.

would ask a lot of questions, he’s interested in anything you’re interested in. he likes how you get excited over it.

genius-y as ever, he memorizes some of the choreos you learn in his head. he wouldn’t be opposed to doing some of the lower difficulty ones, it gets him many kisses as a reward.

your affection is more than enough of an incentive for him to get moving. but he’s exhausted after, so you better recognize his efforts!

cuddles are in session immediately after, he used up so much energy. (it was a thirty second tiktok.)

his teammates are in shock that you got him to move for something other than basic needs and football.

how do you do it?

the answer is simple- nagi seishiro loves you enough to “bust a move”, or two.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #chigiri hyoma #chigiri hyoma x reader #hyoma chigiri #hyoma chigiri x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #mikage reo #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi #seishiro nagi x reader

[zehiiro]

My thoughts on the 'The Book of Carol' NYCC Press Conference

I really enjoyed the press conference; they spoke more about season 2 than what was covered during the live audience panel.

There were some clarifications and interesting comments made, and I just want to mention some of them here, specifically the ones about Daryl/Carol and Norman/Melissa.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Firstly, I loved the initial comment by Norman, confirming what a lot of us have all been thinking, which was that:

"She [Carol] feels something's wrong. They have that kind of bond, where there's a lot of unspoken things that are said... the bonds that we made in the flagship show are still very strong. She [Carol] can take care of herself, of course... but the bond just keeps getting stronger and stronger. He [Daryl] wants to go home but can't leave it like this. He's just not that guy."

-------------------------------------------------------------

The timeline of Melissa's involvement with the show:

When asked to clarify the timeline of when Melissa got on board/back on board with the show, Norman answered,

"She was on board since before the first script came out, and you know media says this and social media says that, and I literally told the truth; she's been here since day one."

I felt really bad here at how much hate he has been getting from some people, just because of this misunderstanding. I could hear the hurt in his voice when he said he was telling the truth.

Gimple then added that they just wanted to hide her so the audience would experience the surprise of her return in the finale and how they were shocked by how many people showed up at La Defense and spotted Melissa filming after they worked so hard to try and hide her presence in France.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Norman and Melissa's scenes that have already been shot for S2:

Norman confirmed that Melissa only filmed a little bit without him and that they have since filmed a bunch together in multiple locations, but not in exact chronological order, which I'm so happy about because now that we know that they have finished filming 3 episodes of the show, and have 3 to go, this could imply that we'll be getting the Caryl reunion very early in the season.

I was a little sad when Zabel talked about Melissa's first day on set:

"She was very excited to come back to play the character again, but... everyone around her was different like there was nobody there that she knew (except for Greg and Zabel)."

I really hope this means that they took extra good care of her and made sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed.

Norman confirmed he wasn't there for her first day, but I can understand that, especially if (I suspect) they made a choice to not see each other on set before filming Carol and Daryl's reunion scene so that it's as authentic as possible.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Norman and Melissa's agency as executive producers:

They confirmed that both Norman and Melissa are involved in their characters' storytelling and that there's a lot of collaboration between Norman & Melissa and also between them and the writers. I was so happy to hear Zabel say:

"We'd be fools not to rely on actors who know these characters as well as they do... it's kind of a gift because they know so much about who they are already; you wanna build on that, you don't want to get stuck and stagnated on that."

That's all we've been asking for, let Norman and Melissa lead!

No one knows Carol and Daryl as well as they do. They lived inside their minds for 12+ years; they brought them to life and made them the characters/duo that we love so much, and only they truly understand what Carol and Daryl mean to each other, what they want, and what they need.

I was particularly happy to hear Zabel say that he sat down with Melissa from very early on and asked her about where she thinks Carol needs to go next and what are the things that are unresolved with her. All I need from the season 2 writing is to show that her voice was heard and that her ideas were considered and properly implemented into Season 2.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Overall, this all sounds really promising to me, although I'd still like to hear some of these things from Melissa rather than everyone speaking on her behalf.

I'd love to know what you guys think about all this, and I've linked the full press conference below for your own reference.

[full press conference] - audio only

#daryl dixon #carol peletier #caryl #norman reedus #melissa mcbride #the book of carol #the walking dead #twd spoilers #caryl positivity #the walking dead daryl dixon #CarylArchives

[oftenwantedafton]

The Perfect Girl - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Finale

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - restraints, captivity, blood and violence, sexual content

Also available on AO3

There’s a large turnout for the candlelight vigil.

Former classmates. Members of the community. Your mother. Employees at the mall. William Afton remains at the edges of the crowd. Stares into the flame until his vision goes blurry. Thinks about you tucked away in his pizzeria. All his. Only his. His own.

Your car was finally discovered earlier that day, outside of town where he’d abandoned it. Wiped clean. No evidence he’d ever been inside of it. Purse found inside, apparently intact, no contents missing. Driver’s license. Social security card. Health insurance card. Credit card. Car insurance and registration. Makeup. Cash. There’s a film crew present doing a brief recap of the story of your disappearance. Interviewing your mother. Several others. They don’t ask the one person who knows what really happened.

He has to be extra cautious when returning to see you. There are so many people around. He actually leaves and comes back. Still waits to make sure he’s not being watched or followed. Slipping back through the mall entrance that’s been long forgotten. Winding through liminal spaces. Back inside the restaurant. Now back inside the room with you.

***

It’s late when your captor returns.

You’d fallen asleep on the couch, barely making it through the opening credits of the movie you’d put on. The cell phone is hidden behind the refrigerator, tucked on the floor just within reach but securely out of sight. You can tell William’s been outdoors; can feel the cooler autumn air still clinging to his body. You sit up, making room for him.

He still sits close. One arm curling around you. Possessive. His fingers are cool against the bare skin of your shoulder.

“How was the vigil? Did it just end now?” You glance at the clock. Nearly 3am.

“No. I left for a bit. To make sure…” You nod your understanding. No chance he was followed, then. Your location still a secret.

“Is my mom alright?”

“She’s being brave for the cameras. Behind the scenes, too. Optimistic you’ll be found.”

“Cameras?”

“The local news station was here. Doing a little blurb to refresh people’s memories. Hoping someone might suddenly remember a detail that had gotten overlooked previously. There aren’t any, of course.”

Afton sounds so confident. “You’re cold,” you say, the fingers absently stroking your bare shoulder making you shiver.

“So warm me up.”

You lean to kiss him. Even his lips are cool. He’d been outside a while. Maybe not so confident, then. Hesitating. Your tongue spears his mouth. Warm inside. Your fingers on his cheek. Rough stubble. Settling into that mess of hair. You’re already throbbing. Straddle his lap, the links of the chain clinking with the movement. Your hands now fiddling with the fly of his pants. He moans into your mouth and you answer in kind. His cock released, hot against your skin. “Please fuck me, William.” You beg against his ear. Lav at his neck. There are pajama shorts and panties to contend with. The shackle. He’s too impatient. You hear the snick of the pocket knife on his keyring opening. Tearing through the thin material barricading you from him. Clumsy sawing drags of the blade, not his usual artful handling. Desperate to get at you. The elastic waistbands give him the most difficulty. He curses when he knicks his thumb in the process. Shifts slightly to line you up with his erection. You sheathe him slowly. Hands resting on his shoulders trembling. Bloodied thumb pressed against your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter closed. Let it slip past your lips. Sucking. You finish your descent. He’s fully inside of you.

You bend to kiss him again. The taste of his blood still lingering. His tongue greedy for it. You raise and lower yourself. Grinding down. Bouncing. Fast and then slow. One hand cupping your ass cheek. “William…” You say his name over and over. What will your reward be this time? What do you dare ask for? Fresh air. A chance to use the phone. Just a quick call to emergency services. Let them trace it.

Is that really the only reason you’re doing this?

The pendant of the gifted necklace lying against the base of your throat. Your hand wrapped around his. You’ve no idea how it’s gotten there. He’s meeting your hips now. Moving faster. His eyes locked with yours. “Do it.”

You frown. Your pelvis hesitates mid motion. Does he want…?

“Do it,” he says again. He hasn’t stopped pummeling you.

He’s asked for this before. Your fingers tighten. You feel the movement of his Adam’s apple. The forced swallow against the pressure you’re exerting. The thin hiss of air exchange through the compressed passage. Your body dropping down onto his. Struggling for air yourself. Your arm shaking with tension.

Your fingers relax. Your face drops into the crook of his neck. A heavy rasp of air. He’s stopped moving. You’re still impaled. “I can't do it, I can’t hurt you.”

“Why not?”

“Because. I’m not violent,” you murmur, your face lifting so you can see his features.

He tucks a swathe of your hair behind one ear. “You are when you let yourself be. That’s the only difference between us. Restraint. Inhibition. I know you so well. Better than you know yourself…” His mouth on yours. “There’s another reason you won’t hurt me, isn’t there?” He kisses your neck and you shudder. “Isn’t there?” Firmer now. He expects an answer.

You nod.

“Say it.”

“William…”

“Why are you so afraid?”

“Because I’ve given you everything else. I’ll have nothing left if I…”

“You’ll have me. You have me. A decade ago I would never have forgiven…What have you done to me, to make me feel…” You kiss the rest of the words away. Grinding against him again. “Come to bed with me and let me fuck you properly.”

You climb off his lap. The sudden absence of his cock buried inside you already leaving you aching. Clothes discarded along the short path to the bed. You’re pressed down beneath him on top of the comforter. Back inside of you. As if you’d never been parted. A hand knotting in your hair. His mouth on your throat. Your fingers on his scars. Hot breath huffed against your skin. Little pleading noises escaping you. Half formed words. Nails digging into flesh. Knees pressing into ribs. A shake of muscles. You can’t withstand the battering any longer. Melting against him. His shuddering breath. Body dropping down, his weight on you. Making it hard to breathe. That molten flow deep in your core. The taut frame nearly suffocating you relaxing, stilling, depressing the mattress beside you instead.

Facing each other. Still on top of the covers. Respirations normal. The little firing of nerves less frequent, less intense. “What do you want?” His voice quiet.

“You.”

It’s only half a lie.

***

The roof of the mall the next evening. The first fresh air you’ve inhaled in months.

William keeps you tucked inside the shadowed stairwell. Still cautious. Bound to his wrist. You can see the stars. The autumn air is welcome. You've been gifted some new clothing. Weather appropriate for the coming months, although the pizzeria interior is always climate controlled. Maybe this wouldn’t be your only trip outside. If you were good. If you could convince him…

The phone is in your pants pocket. Turned on. Ready to use. If the battery lasted. If you had a signal. And then what? You’d have to toss it and hope it wouldn’t break. It would be better if you could somehow convince him to sever the ziptie. But why would he? Especially after what had happened last time. The agony of the indecision tortures you. Did you want to be restrained even more? Go back to having him not look at you, not speak to you? Not touch you…

In the end the mobile device goes unused. You can’t risk it.

You’re brought back to your confinement. Afton doesn’t stay. You don’t ask. You hide the phone in the same place as before, checking the battery life first. A warning to charge the device. The screen goes dark.

***

William finishes his security guard shift and lingers in his customary hiding spots until he’s certain the coast is clear before he returns to his restaurant.

Eases down into the swivel chair before the monitors on the security office. His eyes immediately focus on the displays for your room. You’re reading. Or at least you appear to be. He doesn’t see you turn a page. Notices the glint of your silver necklace. The wicked silver wink of the butcher knife on the desk in front of him. He reaches for it, rocking back in his chair. Point pressing against the new scab on his thumb. Not hard enough to puncture, just testing the sharpness. He already knows the blade is ready, freshly prepared after his most recent kills. Knows all about the secret you have stashed away. He’s the one that had placed it on the bathroom sink, after all. Another test. Another slim opportunity you’d wasted.

He wonders about that. Why you hadn’t at least made the attempt. Fearing his ire, perhaps. Of course he would’ve had to punish you.

But you were so good at finding the mercy in him.

The security guard realizes he’s bleeding again. He’s pushed too deeply. Or the knife is sharper than he’d thought. A little of both, perhaps. He rises to his feet. Rolls the handle of the blade in his palm. Leaves the room and enters yours.

***

You look up from the page you’d been stuck on, the same paragraph read repeatedly without comprehension. The door remains open behind William.

You notice the knife immediately and shrink back a little against the cushions of the couch. See the blood dripping from his other hand.

“William, what happened?”

He realizes where you’re staring and shrugs, unconcerned. “Cut myself.”

“You’re not going to put something on that?” You’re thinking about grabbing some napkins from the kitchen cupboard, already moving off the couch. He watches you, making no move to take the paper offering. “William…”

“I’ve been thinking about the other night. When you said you could never hurt me. You could, though, couldn’t you? If the circumstances demanded it. If it was your only chance of escape.” He sets the knife on the counter. “If I gave you one fair chance. Would you take it? Would you abandon me?”

“William, I don’t—”

“—Why didn’t you use the phone last night?”

You suck in a deep breath. Christ, he knew. He always does. When will you learn? Your heart races. “The battery was practically dead, I didn’t think it would even work.”

“You brought it with you, though, didn’t you? Intending to use it.”

It was useless to lie. “Yes.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I just told you…”

He lifts the knife again and the argument dies in your throat. “You still don’t understand. After everything I’ve tried. It doesn’t matter how many rewards or punishments I mete.” The older man advances towards you. There’s nothing but the kitchen counter and cabinets at your back. He reaches for your chin, lifting it firmly. “I’m going to unlock your restraint.” Kneeling now. Your entire body is shaking. You don’t know what’s happening. You don’t think you’ve ever been this afraid.

The metal band releases. He tosses it aside, standing once more. Blood still leaks from his wound, pattering to the floor. “Take this.” He uncurls your fingers from their white knuckled grip on the edge of the counter. Presses the handle into them. “You only get one chance at this. Make it count. Your best bet is here,” he taps the side of his neck. “Quick thrust to sever carotid and jugular. A little slower for the axillary here,” he lifts his arm, gesturing to the hollow beneath. “Right side here for the liver is another good choice. But you should go for the throat. A quick end if your aim is true.”

“I’m not…I’m not doing that. Any of that.” There are tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Why not?”

“You know why not. I told you I’m not like you.”

“Not like me? Not crazy like me, you mean?” A bitter smile. The backs of his fingers drag through the salted tracks staining your face. “Don’t waste this opportunity. There won’t be another, I promise you.” His thumb dragging across your bottom lip. The bloodied one. A final mark upon you.

Your grip on the knife tightens. You hesitate. You can’t do it. Impossible. He has you trapped here in more ways than one. He knows it. Not just the restraints. Not just the threats. There was more preventing you from leaving. His influence over you too strong. Breaking you down steadily over the months. You hadn’t even been consciously aware of it before now. Every uttered consent. Every desire. You were his.

Your last chance to flee. A window of opportunity shutting. Hurting him wouldn’t be enough. Running would never put enough distance between you. There was no escape. He had to be the one to let you go. And he never would. Not unless you forced him to. An idea comes to you. The place where you could bury the blade that would do the most damage. Not inside of him. Inside of you. That which he treasures the most. The most damage you could inflict.

“Close your eyes.” You don’t want him to see what you’re attempting, trying to prevent you from doing this.

He nods in understanding, obeying. Those long dark lashes laid over smudged skin. So calm and accepting. You reverse the blade. Position it on the left side of your abdomen. You’ve no idea how lethal the placement is, just paying attention to Afton’s impromptu anatomy lesson and steering clear of any of those dangerous zones.

Now. Do it now. Don’t think. Just do it.

You grit your teeth. Shove the knife inside of you.

The pain. Unlike any other. A gasp. William’s eyes fly open. Frowning, not realizing what is happening. You collapse and he goes down with you, preventing your head from striking the concrete. You can feel the blood soaking through your shirt. His face above your wavering vision. The realization. You’d beaten him at his own game. You’d won.

***

You awaken to the bright lights inside of a hospital room.

So. Your gamble had paid off. You’d managed not to inflict any lethal damage. You’d finally escaped Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

William had brought you here. Surrendering. Letting you go.

He could come for you again, you suppose, the temporary relief smothered with this realization. But for now, you were free. You were safe.

Your wound really fucking hurts.

You find the call button to summon a nurse. Other staff follow. You’re told you’ve been out for nearly a week. Left outside the ER. Injured but no weapon found. A call that is traced to a very confused looking homeowner nearby. You know William won’t have left prints. Surgery. Sutured back together. Your mother is called. The police don’t allow much time before you’re questioned. And this is where you find yourself lying about your captivity. Stating you were driven somewhere. Far away, in the van a long time. Blindfolded. The sound of water. A young man’s voice. The lies spill from your lips easily. The authorities seem convinced. Your mother is anxious for you to be discharged.

You wonder if she’ll ever let you out of her sight again.

***

You’ve only missed one semester of college.

They allow you to begin in January. Your classes are shuffled around to accommodate you. Courses for first years will now be handled during your second year instead. You’re something of a celebrity. Constantly pestered with questions. The occasional journalist seeking a story. Your account never wavers and interest fades with time, like the healing laceration on your stomach.

You find yourself looking over your shoulder frequently. Imagining footsteps that aren’t there. You leave class one evening and fumble with your car key, struggling to fit it inside the lock. That nagging feeling that you’re being watched persisting. The hairs on the back of your neck lifting. The parking lot is emptying. There are a row of trees beside the building. The feeling intensifies. You cease your struggles and let the keyring dangle from your fingers. Tuck your backpack over your shoulder and step onto the mulch bordering the curb. Weaving between hedges. Nearly to the trees now. Cloaked in shadows.

You know the sound of William’s breathing as well as your own. Drawn towards him like a magnet, you find him. He’s dressed to match the night. Dark shirt, dark jacket and pants. The only lightness that pale skin of his. Visible in the brief moment the moon peeks from behind the clouds before becoming shadowed once again.

You shift the weight of your book bag. Finally ease it off of your shoulder, letting it drop to the carpet of pine needles and leaves.

“Why didn’t you tell the police about me?”

A valid query. Why hadn’t you? Why were you keeping the pizzeria and its murderous owner a secret? Preventing justice for all of its victims, yourself included?

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“Are you going to take me back?”

“Do you want to be taken back?”

“No,” you say softly.

A grunt. “You could have died. Stupid, what you did.”

“I was dying already, William. Just at a slower pace. I couldn’t stay there any longer.”

“Do you ever think about me?”

You swallow thickly. “All the time.”

“Is any of it fond? Or is it all bitter, tainted…You’ve no idea the emptiness you’ve left behind. The sheer ache…”

You move forward, wrapping your arms around him. Surprising you both. His arms finally settling around you, the stiff awkwardness melting.

“It wasn’t stupid, what you did. It was brilliant. Something I hadn’t anticipated.” There’s a note of pride in his voice.

“Please don’t hurt anyone else. Promise me you won’t. I’ll never tell anyone about what happened, just…”

A heavy sigh. “There are conditions for everything, aren’t there?” He combs his fingers through your hair. “A price to be paid for the things we desire.” Pushing gently against your face tucked against his chest. Lifting it. His lips finding yours. So warm contrasting with that winter air around you. Your hands linking behind his neck. Pulling him tighter. That familiar heat stirring your insides. The kiss becoming wetter, more frantic. Gasping breaths when you finally part.

“What do you want?” He’s trembling in your arms.

“You.”

It’s the truth.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader

[twilightmalachite]

Kanata Shinkai - Winter Seabed

Author: Suika

Characters: Kanata, Rei, Wataru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"It’ll be Christmas soon. See? There’s lights put up all around the city."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Saison Avenue

Kanata: (Whew, it’s “night” already…)

(I didn’t expect the photoshoot to go on for that long.)

(Uu… Once “winter” came, it became cold all at once.)

(And “winter” makes my skin so “dry”…)

(Chiaki told me to avoid “bathing” so that I don’t catch a “cold”.)

(But if I can’t “bathe”, then I’ll dry up for sure, you know?)

(I thought if there was a lot of snow collected, maybe I could “dive” in, but…)

(There doesn’t seem to be enough accumulated. What a pity.)

(…Then I guess I’ll just have to hurry back to the “Starmony Dorms” to take a “bath” there. Otherwise it’ll become unbearable.)

(I sure don’t do “well” in the “winter”…)

(…!! My feet are slipping, I can’t keep balance…)

Rei: Whoops! Got you just in time.

Kanata: Rei…? What are you doing here?

Rei: I thought you were approaching danger, Shinkai-kun, so I rushed over. I’m glad I made it in time.

Kanata: …Fufu, you sound like you’re a hero, Rei.

But, you shouldn’t lie, you know.

Rei: …Kukuku, the heroes here are you and the others, Shinkai-kun.

Why, it’s only just a coincidence I am here too. I had just finished filming and was on my way back.

That’s when I recognized someone familiar from behind, and was just about to call out to you.

Kanata: You’re also on your way back from work, huh, Rei?

Anyways, thank you for saving me. I probably would have fallen down if you hadn’t.

Rei: Mhm. I’m glad you’re not hurt, Shinkai-kun.

So you too are on your way back from work, huh? Good job on all your work so late.

Kanata: Yes. I feel I’ve been somewhat busy as of late. I didn’t expect “work” to go on until so late.

Rei: Hm. …Perhaps it’s because the year’s end is approaching. It’s about time for the home stretch.

It’ll be Christmas soon. See? There’s lights put up all around the city.

And once Christmas ends, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s will be upon us. A busy time of the year for us all. It truly is December. ♪

Kanata: You seem to be rather “chipper”, Rei. Is it because it is nighttime?

Rei: Of course, that is one of the reasons, but… Another reason is that I was able to run into you on the way back, Shinkai-kun.

It’s far more enjoyable to go back with a partner than alone.

Kanata: ……

Rei: Oh, right. Have you eaten yet, Shinkai-kun?

Shall we take the opportunity to go out for dinner before heading back?

Kanata: Hmm… Sorry to turn down your “offer”, but I’d like to turn in.

I am actually hungry, but I’d like to head back and take a “bath” as soon as possible.

Rei: Hm, gotcha. Let’s hurry back then, shall we?

Wataru: Oya, oya oya oya?

Kanata: That voice is…

Wataru: That’s right, it’s your Hibiki Wataru…☆

To think I would see two two in a place like this…It’s as if it was fate!

Rei: It is quite rare, isn't it? For the three of us to just meet by chance like this…

Are you returning from work as well, Hibiki-kun?

Wataru: Nay, I am on the way home from rehearsal with my theater company.

We were enthusiastically rehearsing ‘til late today as the performance date is nearing.

But perhaps that was guidance by the goddess of love, do you think so?

Wataru: Look at this. ☆ Behold! I’m so overjoyed to see you both that doves are coming out! ♪

Rei: Fufu. I understand how you feel, but there is still a lot of traffic at this hour. Make your magic tricks too flashy and you’ll stand out.

Kanata: I do love talking to you two. But could we do it while walking?

We will freeze if we talk to each other somewhere like this forever and ever.

Rei: Ohh, sorry about that, Shinkai-kun.

Wataru: Hmmm…

Kanata: Wataru? Is there a problem?

Wataru: Not at all! You are right, Kanata. My apologies for my actions!

…By the way, Kanata. Didn’t you say you were hungry earlier?

Kanata: Yes? I did, but…

Wataru: So you did! Now then, Kanata, please put your hands out!

Kanata: …Like this?

Wataru: Yes, perfect!

Aaand now, please do not take your eyes off them… One, Two, Amazing…☆

Kanata: …This is, taiyaki?[1]

Wataru: Yes, a gift to show my appreciation for the fate that brought us together tonight!

Rei: Your magic tricks are spectacular as ever, Hibiki-kun.

This is a cold dessert taiyaki too, not a hot one like most.

Shinkai-kun can eat it without worry, as he doesn’t like hot food.

Kanata: Can I really have it?

Wataru: Yes, do go ahead! Please, enjoy it to your heart's content! ♪

Kanata: I will do exactly that, then. *chomp chomp*…

Ufufu♪ The sweet “red bean paste” is being spread throughout my tired body~.

It’s very delicious. Thank you, Wataru.

Wataru: Fufufu♪ You finally laughed.

Kanata: ……?

Wataru: Now then, let us happily return to Starmony Dorms. Shall we all hold hands so we do not fall?

Rei: That’s right. While I’m not worried about myself, I am a tad worried about Shinkai-kun.

Kanata: Mmu, I was careless earlier. I won’t fall again.

Wataru: Do rest assured. If you are about to fall, I will be there without fail to catch you! ☆

Kanata: I told you, I won’t fall.

Rei: …Still, it is quite strange, isn’t it?

To think that even after graduating from Yumenosaki Academy, the three of us would still be heading to the same place together.

Wataru: Isn’t that right. While we were students, we would all go to Yumenosaki Academy in this very manner…

Back then, I wouldn’t have ever thought we’d be living under the same roof!

Life is full of twists and turns, isn’t it? What a wonderful thing it is! Amazing!

Rei: Life, huh… A lot has happened this year, looking back.

Kanata: But Rei, the year has not yet ended, has it?

Wataru: You’re exactly right, Kanata! There is still Christmas left!

Look, the shop over there appears to have a Christmas tree on display!

Kanata: You’re right. It’s sparkling and beautiful~.

Rei: Right… Beautiful is beautiful, but I do wish they’d refrain from decorating with holly.[2]

Kanata: (Strange. It’s as if the “town” began to shine once I ran into Rei and Wataru.)

(…I still don't do “well” in the “winter” as ever, but I feel it’s not so bad to see the “winter scenery” with someone else, either.)

Wataru: Is there something wrong, Kanata?

Kanata: …Ufufu, nothing at all~.

(quietly) Anyone would feel despondent if they were out alone in the dark “sea”.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A Japanese fish-shaped pastry, often sold as street food. It’s typically filled with red bean baste, but can also be filled with custard, chocolate, and more. You can see it in Kanata’s bloomed here.

Holly is considered a holy plant that can be used to harm vampires.

#kanata shinkai #idol #translation #rei sakuma #wataru hibiki

[kpopfanfictrash]

Not Another Holiday Romance (Teaser)

Posting Date: Saturday, December 24th at 6:00 PM EST

Part of: the Snow Falls Collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster

Genre: Director!Y/N, Town Historian!Namjoon, One Night Stand!AU

Author's Note: This story will be told in alternating viewpoints between Y/N and Namjoon.

Synopsis: You, a perpetually alone (and utterly cynical) movie director, are sent to the town of Snow Falls, Middle-of-Nowhere for your latest film assignment. Stuck in holiday hell until the new year, you’re determined to get in and get out with minimal damage to your Grinch reputation. That is, until a ridiculously gorgeous (and young?!) town historian is assigned to help with your film. Suddenly, you find yourself the heroine of one of those corny romances you direct – and are discovering they might not be so corny after all.

Estimated WC (Total): 30K

Rating: 18+

Preview WC: 2,021

“But I don’t care what they think,” insists Matt, stepping closer. “I’ve spent my entire life hearing about what I should and shouldn’t do and right now, I don’t care about any of it. I care about you. On Easter,” he adds, blonde hair shining underneath the bright lights.

Bunny – because yes, the character’s real name is Bunny – smiles up at Matt, blinking away tears. Except – hang on. No. Bunny is actually crying, which isn’t in the script.

Exhaling loudly, you push yourself to stand. “CUT!” you call, ignoring the groans from the crew. “Amber, the script says, ‘eyes glistening,’ not full-on waterfalls. Matt’s telling you he wants you, not going off to war. Let’s do it again!”

Dropping her dewy expression, Amber Carmichael (the actress cast as Bunny) turns, squinting against the lights. “You sure?” she calls, raising a hand to her brow. “I thought it added something to the moment! You know, like catharsis.”

“The only thing it added,” grumbles Matt – both the name of the actor and character, “was confusion.”

Ignoring him, Amber flips long, dark hair over one shoulder. “Alright,” she says, unconcerned. “Let’s go again!”

Trying not to sigh, you sit down in your chair. Hiding laughter, your assistant director, Abby, ducks behind her green binder.

“This is gold,” she murmurs as the crew resets. “If this movie weren’t already terrible, Amber’s acting would get it there.”

“And why does that make you cheerful?” you ask. “I’m the director and you’re the assistant director. Our names are tied to this.”

Shrugging, Abby flips a few pages. “Hey, I enjoy my job. We’re making content for people who just want to relax after dinner. An important job which keeps 74.6% of bored housewives from killing their husbands. It’s true – look it up.”

You, of course, do not bother to look it up because Abby is known for making up statistics to suit her purpose. Most are rooted in a semblance of truth though, and you know that people watch Mallhark – your employer – for a reason. Basic escapism if nothing else.

You just aren’t sure an Easter romcom was what they had in mind.

Matt and Amber are currently acting before a greenscreen, the rolling green hills to be added in later. Abby might see this as glass half-full but from where you’re sitting, things look pretty dismal. The main character of your movie is named Bunny, for crying out loud.

Once upon a time, when you were first promoted to director and tasked by Mallhark to make the holidays magical, you took great pride in your work. You stayed up until morning making edits, pouring over screen tests, and searching for locations but lately, you can barely drag yourself to set. Lately, everything has felt stale, and you aren’t sure how to recapture the magic for yourself, let alone someone else.

Pulling your lower lip between teeth, you shove this aside to concentrate on the moment. Magic or not, you need to finish this film today. Your flight out of here is tonight and Mallhark doesn’t take kindly to schedule delays.

“All set?” you yell, waiting for the crew to respond. Once they do, you nod. “Okay. Three… two… one…” You signal to start, settling back in your seat.

Brian, your main camera operator, zooms in to frame the shot. A second operator, Siying, works a hand-held for close-ups. Everyone on set feeds off one another – one of the few things you still appreciate about movie making. Even the cheesiest, cheapest films necessitate a tremendous crew.

Amber and Matt start their scene from the top, with Amber perched on a rock to stare at the (fake) sunset.

“BUNNY!”

Matt runs into frame, startling Bunny into falling sideways, nearly into his lap. The two confess, laying their insecurities out between them. Like a grocery list, Bunny rattles off her fear of commitment, of abandonment and Matt wholeheartedly accepts her as her leading man.

Watching this, you feel a slight twinge in your chest. It’d be nice if real life could be that simple. In your experience though, men tend to run the moment flaws are unearthed.

“I care about you. On Easter,” Matt blurts, ending his monologue.

Bunny stares up at him, starry-eyed. You have to hand it to Matt – as a Mallhark veteran, he really knows his stuff. Cheating his angles, he gives the camera crew the shot they need while continuing to gaze into Bunny’s eyes.

Amber isn’t quite as good, staring back with her lips parted. Maybe it wouldn’t seem so provocative if she hadn’t just come from amateur porn. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but the angles and facial expressions are wildly different here on Mallhark.

Abby must be thinking the same since you catch her scribbling a note in her binder. Possibly edit out porn sigh during ending?

“Oh, Matt,” Bunny says. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Bunny.” Matt gathers her to him, and you close your eyes to brace yourself for the next bit of dialogue. “I’m hop-lessly in love with you.”

The two of them laugh, only sounding slightly strained, which is the best you can hope for. Matt presses his lips to Bunny’s, and you wait an appropriate time before you yell cut.

“That’s it!” you call, standing from your chair. “Thanks, folks!”

Amber and Matt break apart, the crew loudly applauding the successful take. Sagging in your seat, you hear Abby close her binder with a snap.

“So,” she declares. “That was fun.”

Rather than respond, you lower your head and start to rub your temples.

Abby makes a tsking noise. “You’re becoming cynical, Y/N. How can you not love this channel? Come on, think about it – the meet cutes! The banter! The romance! The bunnies!”

“I’m allergic to rabbits,” you mutter.

“Huh.” Abby tilts her head. “Well, bad luck getting assigned to the Easter movie, then.”

“And besides,” you exhale, looking up. “Let’s call a spade a spade, Abby. We’re not solving world hunger. These movies are thinly veiled Christian propaganda that’s being spoon-fed to the viewer. I’m surprised we don’t do blatant product placement, too. Really lean into the consumerist angle.”

“Damn.” Abby snorts. “Who spit in your peppermint mocha this morning?”

“And that’s another thing,” you gripe, jiggling your empty cup. “This mocha was terrible! I should be at least able to taste coffee, right?”

“Depends. Most people who order peppermint mochas just want the chocolate.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry,” you sigh, knowing you’re being unfair. “I’m just in a crappy mood today.”

“You’ve been in a crappy mood for a week,” Abby says, standing from her chair. Stretching both arms overhead, she leans side to side. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but as your best friend I feel obligated to let you know.”

Stomach sinking, you follow her lead and stand. Abby is right. You’ve been generally terrible to be around, and it isn’t her fault. Trailing her throughout the set, you wave goodbye to the crew on your way to the door.

Normally, you’d stay and help clean, but time is of the essence if you want to make your flight. Mallhark, in true capitalist fashion, has scheduled your films back-to-back. You’re even missing the wrap party, which tends to be a trainwreck but in the fun kind of way.

“I know,” you sigh, pushing open a door. “The worst part is I don’t have any right to be a grump. I mean, I have a good job. I’m directing, which is what I want to do. I have a nice place to live. I have food on the table, I have friends –”

“Friend,” Abby corrects, then waves a hand. “Continue.”

Your glare at her is half hearted because once again, she’s correct. “Anyways,” you say, pushing through a second set of doors. “I have everything I need, so I don’t know why I’m in such a funk.”

“Hm,” Abby says in a tone which says incoming monologue.

Stopping at your trailer, you turn around to face her. “Come on,” you say, gesturing with one hand. “Out with it.”

Abby innocently blinks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Tell me the thing you want to say.”

“It’s just.” She shrugs. “It’s basic science.”

You stare at her for a moment. “Okay, I’ll bite. How is this science?”

“95% of people aren’t happy with what they have.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.” Abby nods, dark hair flying. “Okay, so I may have made up that number, but it sounds right, doesn’t it? What I mean is – it’s all Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Sure, all your physical and safety needs are met but what about the rest? Are you satisfied and proud of your work? Does having only one friend” – Abby gives you a long look – “fulfill your quota on love and belonging?”

Whatever retort you had dies in your throat, unable to suitably respond. Abby has a point. True, you have it better than some, but it doesn’t mean things in your life are that great. Especially given the email you received last week.

Exhaling slowly, you stare at a point above Abby’s head. “I got the casting list for our next movie,” you mutter.

“O-kay.” She frowns. “Not sure how this ties into our conversation, but okay.”

Dropping your gaze, you look at her. “Nico was cast as the male lead.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Fuck.”

“Uh-huh.”

Abby falls silent, clearly struggling to come up with a positive response. You should tell her there isn’t one – you’ve been sitting with this for over a week and have nothing.

Nico Taylor, aka The Ex. Also known as Mallhark’s leading man/heartthrob from many a 00’s movie. He had a brief action career before stepping from the spotlight to ‘sort things out,’ or attend serious therapy to undo the effects of childhood stardom. Now, he’s reemerged on the Mallhark scene.

You met him last fall, had a whirlwind romance where you experienced love for the first time and then, come January 1st, you found yourself dumped. It was brutal, fast, and made all the worse by the fact that you both work for Mallhark.

Thus far, you’ve been able to avoid working with Nico, but it seems your good luck has run out. Typically, directors are involved with casting decisions. Your next film though, is a Christmas movie being shot on location. That means permits, logistics and specific timelines. Because of this, your film schedule changed abruptly and overlapped with your current film. Casting was delegated and now, look where you are.

On the one hand, it’s a sign of Mallhark’s faith in the script to assign such a big star. On the other hand, you’ll be trapped in a remote location with your ex-boyfriend for a month.

Abby slowly shakes her head, her mouth a round o. “Well.” She pauses. “Shit, Y/N. I don’t even know what to say. Let’s go and get drunk at the airport?”

You can’t help but laugh; it’s such an Abby response but for once, you agree. “I mean, yeah. Let’s do it,” you say, pulling open your door. “I’ll grab my bags and meet you out front? We can call an Uber.”

Abby nods, waving goodbye as she heads for her trailer. You’re halfway inside before realizing something and poking your head back out.

“Abby?” you call.

She stops, jogging in place as she turns around. “Yeah?”

“Where are we headed?”

A delighted grin spreads across Abby’s face, which should be your first warning. Stomach sinking, you deduce it’s somewhere suitably cheesy.

“Snow Falls,” she says, clapping both hands together. “Isn’t that adorable? Sounds like something out of a Christmas story!”

“Dear god,” you groan, pulling your head back inside. “I’m going to need more than the in-flight wine to get me through this.”

Zipping up your bag, you place this on the ground and look around your trailer. No personal effects, which is just how you like it. Fewer things to pack means fewer things to repack when the stint inevitably ends.

Five weeks, you remind yourself. Only five weeks until you can repack again.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2022. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Teaser #2: definitive ranking of sluttiest male sweaters

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts fic #bts au #namjoon fic #namjoon au #bts writing #namjoon writing

[tierneysodegaard2]

Florist - Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: None

Summary: After Daniel hits Lando with a space hopper he decides to apologise with flowers but doesn’t expect to be so captivated by the person helping.

—

Opening your own florist was something you never thought you’d be able to achieve yet here you stood, thanks to the family business. The shop was located in England, not too far from Silverstone. Every time F1 came along, you always saw an influx of fans coming to look inside, especially as you always made bouquets themed around the teams and always made the logos out of flowers. When opening your shop, you never expected to get an actual driver to walk in, especially not Daniel Ricciardo. 

The small bell hanging above the door chimed loudly, letting you know that someone had entered the shop. You glanced over at the time, furrowing your brows a little. When the race weekend was taking place you would rarely get customers, it was the middle of the day and the events would still be taking place and no one would dare make the journey from any nearby towns due to the traffic. 

Curiosity took over as you lifted your gaze from the bouquet you were preparing for an order when you met a pair of deep chestnut eyes. The man smiled as he caught your gaze, walking towards your counter, a slight spring in his step. 

“Can I help you?” A smile presented itself on your face as you spoke to him. 

“Hi yeah umm, have you got any flowers that say ‘I’m sorry I hit you with a space hopper, I regret what I did, can you forgive me, Lando?’.” He finished with a bright smile. “Or is that too specific?”

A light laugh escaped your lips. “Nothing is too specific for me.” You returned his smile before setting the flowers you were working on. “So what do you have in mind? You can either have a bouquet of all the same flowers or we could make a bouquet with multiple different flowers, you can have just one singular flower or -”

“Could I get one like this?” He pointed to a display you’d set out that morning. The display was a large bouquet, one you’d see a wealthy man give to the love of his life in films or on social media. 

“Sure, do you have any specific flowers or colour scheme in mind?” 

“Are there any flowers specific for space hopper apologies?” His smile stood proudly on his face as he spoke.

“Not that I know of.” You moved around the counter so you could scour your shop for the flowers you had in mind. You picked up a single pink carnation, holding it out to him. “Pink carnations are often used to apologise to a close friend.” Daniel took the flower into his hand, his fingers grazing yours as he held the stem before lifting it to smell the flower. Your heart jumped when your skin touched his. No one could deny that Daniel was an attractive man, his dark curls fell just above his eye as he continued to run his hands through his hair, the action itself only making him more attractive. 

“They’re beautiful.” Daniel twirled the flower around as his eyes flickered at you. 

“You could partner them with…” You stepped away, missing the scent of his cologne as you walked through your shop. “These.” You handed him a white flower, your hands touching once again, this time at the contact Daniel looked straight at you, rather than studying the flower. “It’s called Lily of the Valley, arguably the most popular flower when it comes to apologises. You could just have those two and then an orange flower in the middle to represent McLaren, or the space hopper if you want to look at it from that point of view.”

Daniel let out a light laugh at your words. “Would you be able to do that for me?” His eyes met yours. 

“Of course, I could.” You grabbed the flowers you needed before turning on your heel and walking to the counter which doubled as your workstation. “When do you need them by?”

“When can they be done by?”

“Whenever you need them by.” You smirked, already getting to work on them. 

“When’s the earliest you can do it by?”

“Give me time and they’ll be done within the hour.” Your smirk was glued on your face as you started to work whilst Daniel pondered around the shop. 

“Is it yours?” He suddenly asked. 

“Hmm?”

“The shop?”

“Oh yes well, it’s my nan's shop well… used to be.”

“Was she a florist too?”

“She was.” You smiled warmly at Daniel. 

“So it’s a family thing then?” 

“Pretty much, can’t say the same for you though.”

“The Ricciardos are adventurous but I can’t say we’ve all ran to Formula 1.”

“Probably for the best.” You kept your gaze on him. “It’s not exactly the safest sport.”

“But the adrenaline makes up for it.” Daniel had moved to lean against the counter so he could watch you work. His eyes fluttered between your face and your hands working away on the flowers. 

“Each to their own.” You smiled back at him. 

“So did your nan have the idea for F1-themed flowers?” 

“My Grandad actually.” The fond memory swarmed your mind, something Daniel picked up on. “He always used to go to Silverstone, every single year.”

“Have you ever been?” 

“No, I was always too young and then we lost my Grandad, no one has gone since, too busy running the shop.” 

Daniel’s expression dropped at your words. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You don’t need to apologise, he’d be in his element if he saw you here now.” You smiled warmly at him. 

“I’m sure he’d be happier seeing how well you’ve handled this place, must be a lot, surely?”

“It is but I’ve grown up here so I’m used to it by now.” 

“Do you run it on your own, or have help from your boyfriend… or a girlfriend!” He said the last part rather quickly, his expression a worried one that he may have offended you but the small laugh you let out wiped his worry away. 

“No I don’t have a partner, I run it by myself, sometimes I’ll get help from a friend but mostly it’s just me.”

“No wonder why you’ve never been to Silverstone, you’re always here.” 

“It was my dream to take over the shop so I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smiled at him, adding the last flower which happened to be an orange rose in the middle. You’d wrapped the flowers in orange paper, drawing the McLaren logo on the front before handing it to Daniel. 

“Could I also get something else, if it’s not too much to ask?”

“Sure.”

“A McLaren bouquet? If it’ll take too long you don’t have to worry -”

“You can take the one off the display if you’d like.” You moved around the counter and over to the shop window, taking the bouquet in your hands before handing it back to him for him to study. 

“Thank you.” He looked down and smiled before paying. “I never got your name…”

“y/n.” You smiled, handing him the flowers he’d now set down on the counter. 

“Daniel.” He returned the smile. “Although it seemed as if you already knew that.”

“I did indeed, good luck this weekend. Silverstone is special so I’m sure you’ll do well.” 

“Thank you.” Daniel backed off from the counter. “Maybe one day you’ll be there to watch me.” He winked as he opened your shop door. 

“Maybe one day Ricciardo.” 

—

The next day you watched Daniel give Lando the flowers, the gesture making the brit go bright red as it was broadcasted on national television after their practice. Your smile was as wide as Daniels as you watched the encounter. Daniel ran his hand back through his hair, much like he had done when he was with you. The gesture alone makes your heart run as you watched the interview concluded. 

You expected the weekend to be rather dull, the only excitement coming from the race that was set to take place but it seemed the world had other plans. As you came down the stairs to open your shop for the day you were greeted with a large white envelope. 

Your name was neatly written on the front. The envelope was slightly weighted, evidently, something was inside. Tearing open the letter a paddock pass fell out into your hands along with a note. 

If Silverstone is as special as you make it out to be then I’d like you to at least experience it for yourself. 

- Daniel 

A large grin broke across your face as you held the pass in your hands. As quickly as you could you darted back upstairs to the flat that stood above the shop to get ready. Hopefully, if you had timed everything right you should have been able to make it to the race just before the second practice started, hopefully, you could catch Daniel and thank him for everything.

Thankfully luck was on your side today. Approaching the entrance you scanned your pass and went to enter when the security stopped you. “Where’s your luggage?”

“I’m sorry?” You arched your brow at his words. 

“Mr Ricciardo said you were to be staying with him and we’d take your things to the Silverstone Hotel.”  

“Oh…” Daniel had failed to mention that. “Umm well I’ll be going back to mine tonight and I’ll be joining him on the weekend.” 

“No worries, just thought I’d ask.” He smiled, letting you through. You gave him a quick smile before heading off to find Daniel. The Australian wasn’t hard to find, anyone could hear his laugh from a mile away. He was still in his race suit, his curls sticking to his forehead as he glistened with sweat mixed with light spots of rain which had started to fall. 

Daniel’s eyes fell from the engineer's gaze and fell onto you if it was even possible the smile once on his lips grew even wider. “y/n!” He moved towards you, his large arms engulfed you, pulling you into his chest in a tight hug. Your arms wrapped around him, smiling as your head fell against his chest. “I’m glad you could make it.” He pulled back, looking down at you. “Did you just get here?”

“Yes.” You smiled back. “I came as soon as I got the letter.”

“Good-”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

“What’s all this about me staying with you?”

“Shit, God I hope that isn’t weird… look I have a room that overlooks the track and I know I should have asked before I even mentioned it to security but if you want to stay there you can or even have a few drinks up there with me -”

“I’ll stay with you as long as you drive me home to get my stuff.” You smirked up at the man who was now getting rather flustered. 

“Happily.” He let out a breath of relief. “So you’ll stay tonight? And through the weekend?”

“Only because it’s Silverstone.”

“Is that you telling me you wouldn’t stay with me anywhere else?”

“Maybe Australia…”

“What about Austria?”

“Let’s see how special Silverstone can be first.” 

It was no lie that the pair of you had chemistry, anyone could see it. 

Silverstone really was special.

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo blurb #f1 imagine #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut

[good-beanswrites]

Some questions about LCSYS?

What do they do about hair growth? I'd think hair extensions, but Amane's bangs are really short in her MVs and go past her face in T2, so it seems like it'd be too noticeable?. And Kazui is clean-shaven at the beginning of Cat. Did he record that part shortly after Es went to sleep?

And what about self duplicates? I suppose most of them can get away with camera tricks, but Yuno gets up close and personal with her selves. Amane also has a ton of them that stand close together and move very distinctly.

Ooh, these are really interesting to think about, thank you! >:0 It made me finally look up the length of the canon hiatus (Mar 16 to Aug 3), exactly 20 weeks. The internet says shooting a music video usually only takes like three days to film and a few weeks of editing -- so I think it's doable to plan and film them simultaneously in that time.

I pictured they’d plan the videos immediately upon finishing the trial, to keep the feeling of immersion and all related emotions fresh, but also give them plenty of time to do some more challenging things. This may mean planning trips to certain locations, inviting/persuading certain people to come film, or dealing with hair growth. Kazui does his clean-shaven filming first (since Hinako was already there in Half, it was easy to plan for her to return quickly. Jackalope may have had that worked out before the trial even ended.) Amane is a bit trickier, but I wonder if the bangs themselves are additions 🤔 She wears additional short hair for the video and lets her hair keep growing underneath. She'll be able to grow just over two inches in those 20 weeks. (The thing is, comparing the art, I don’t know if that could’ve happened canonically in that time frame anyways 😅 So I’m allowed to stretch it a bit in the au…)

Now, I was originally thinking they only used camera tricks for any duplicate appearances. Haruka gets a younger stunt double. Fuuta, Shidou, and Mikoto can get by filming the scenes twice in different positions. Yuno has to do a bit with a physical double (seen from behind or used minor effects to make them identical). But now that I think more about it, there was a behind-the-scenes video I saw about the Matrix clones -- despite the mask thing being kinda creepy, I think it’d be incredibly sweet to have that many children on the set. They don’t have to do the full mask process, maybe they all wear wigs/makeup that make them match well enough to show up in the background. Either way, Amane goes from one of the loneliest T1 videos to having a hundred little girls stand around her, march with her, and fight for her <3 If the planning stage of Purge March wasn’t already making her second guess her upbringing, having a literal army of girls just like her hanging out for a few days definitely does.

And woo stay tuned for the Deep Cover section coming soon! 🐺

#milgram #thank you so much!! these were real fun to work out #i forgot kazui also changed his hair a bit #im just going to say that amanes hair had grown out by the end of t1 that we didnt get to see - making it possible to grow that long in tim #im hesitant to include that about purge march since i wanted to keep the prison isolation as real as possible.... #......but also??? how can i pass that up??? #its what she deserves!! and what an incredible scene it would be!!! ahh!! #harukas worst nightmare tho... 💀💀💀 #i have the base of deep cover down but its very 'they would not fucking say that' right now 😅 so itll be ready soon #amane momose #kazui mukuhara #lights camera sing your sins

[whats-k-popping]

Not Valid

Summary: Just pulling the phone closer to him hurts his muscles. And the bright light of the screen has him seeing stars. A new headache pulses behind his eyes. But all he has to do is pull up Mingi’s contact and press the phone button. He can manage for that long. 

Pairing: Minsang - Platonic intentions but open interpretation.

Words: 3236

Warnings: Illness || Fever || Angst || Non-graphic Nightmares || Mingi Hiatus era

Inspiration: Loosely inspired by canon Minsang phone number incident. Modified events to fit into this story.

“He’s finally asleep,” Seonghwa sighs, shoulders slumped as though they may fall right out of their sockets. He exits the bedroom corridor, joining the members waiting in the living room. 

Hongjoong hangs up the phone as he emerges from the kitchen entrance, sitting around the other 6 members. “Managers said anything above 38.5 is excused from schedules. Anything over 40 and it’s a trip to the hospital.” 

“He’s still just over the 39 mark. His fever hasn’t gone lower than 38.8 all night,” Seonghwa admits, throwing himself on the couch despite the fact that it’s already occupied by the three youngest. He had volunteered to stay up with Yeosang through the night. He’s exhausted and not the least bit excited for their daily schedule, but he’s already resolved to nap on the drive to their filming location. 

Hongjoong’s already texting the manager and alerting them of Yeosang’s most recent temperature. He’s also asking (demanding) that his schedule be cleared for at least two days. Seonghwa makes himself comfortable on Wooyoung’s lap, “Even if he wasn’t excused, there’s no way he could make it through the day. He can’t even sit up on his own.” Silence falls on the room, the other occupants looking between the two eldest, unasked questions like elephants in the room. Hesitation on the tip of their tongues.

Hongjoong feels the tension like cement blocks on his shoulders. It’s his job to anticipate these things. Though no one had expected their resident Doberman (read: Maltese) to get sick, especially as quickly as he did. Regardless, his job is to make sure the members are taken care of. And their physical condition comes first. “Mingi, what’s your schedule look like?” 

“Just vocal recording.” the fellow rapper replies. Since he’s returned from hiatus, upper management has decided to ease him back into the idol lifestyle so as not to overwhelm him. He’s only had one or two simple schedules a day for two weeks now. And while he’s grateful for the accommodation, he can’t help but feel he’s not really pulling his weight for the group. But he’s talked about these feelings with his members and they’ve all reminded him that it’s best to go at this pace to avoid a relapse. And silver linings, he’s available when the members need help.

“Sangie should be fine on his own for an hour or so. Honestly, he’ll probably stay asleep most of the day since he didn’t get much last night.” Seonghwa supplies. 

Mingi realizes quickly where the conversation is headed. “I’ll look after him once I’m done with recording,” he volunteers, like it’s not already the decided answer to unasked questions. 

Wooyoung wraps his arms around Mingi’s broad shoulders, hugging him tightly, “Take care of my best friend, Minnie.” 

Mingi pats Wooyoung’s back with a wide smile. “And here I thought I was your best friend,” He says sarcastically. 

San scoffs and mutters “Get in line” to which Wooyoung’s jaw drops to the floor and the rest of the room bursts into laughter. Mingi has to admit, it’s good to be back. 

Hongjoong takes one more trip down the bedroom corridor to check on Yeosang before their managers arrive. The leader smooths out the younger’s hair and sets a few things within reach should Yeosang wake up urgently. He then joins the other members as the vans pull up in front of their dorm. Mingi gets into one van while the other six pile into the other. 

As expected, Mingi finishes his schedule quickly and he’s back to the dorm an hour later. The first thing he does after kicking off his shoes is make sure that Yeosang’s still alive. He peeks his head inside and finds the older vocalist curled up under the covers. Exactly how Hongjoong said he left him. He looks peaceful, contrary to how he’d seen Yeosang staggering through the dorm last night. After the night he knows Yeosang had, he doesn’t want to disturb him. So he softly closes the door and notifies the group chat that he’s back and Yeosang is officially in his “very capable hands.” It wouldn’t be the member’s LINE group chat if Wooyoung doesn’t make a dirty joke out of it. 

He goes back to the living room and connects his switch to the TV. There’s a game he’s been meaning to play. And usually he feels guilty playing during the day. But he figures there’s nothing else he should be doing as long as Yeosang sleeps. He’s not due for another dose of medicine yet, and Yunho prepared food to heat up if Yeosang wakes up hungry. So he leans against the back of the couch, an excited smile on his face as he boots up the game. He even remembers to turn the volume down so he could hear Yeosang call for him. 

Yeosang tosses and turns in the throes of yet another vivid fever dream. He always gets them when he’s feverish. When he was younger, they used to be filled with truly terrifying things, like clowns and cartoon monsters. And that one about bees that unsettles him to this day. But recently they are always the same plot. Now they always involve the members. Sometimes, the members are mad at him. Sometimes, he leaves the members. Sometimes there’s a tragic accident. No matter the preface, the ending always remains the same. Yeosang always ends up alone. 

This one ends with a devastating plane crash and the sight of his member’s mangled bodies. It’s the visual of San’s severed head that shocks him to consciousness. The first thing he notices is his heart beating against the wall of his chest. With enough force, it might bust through his rib cage. He tries to take a deep breath, but quickly realizes that no matter how hard he tries, the air won’t come through. His breaths are short and ragged. Then he feels cold tracks running along his cheeks. Tears. 

He reaches for where he usually keeps a water bottle next to the bed. Or, rather, he tries to. The simple action of extending his arm hurts. Every joint aches, sending signals of pain to his clouded mind. Just taking his hand from the warm encasing of the covers sends a sharp chill all the way to his spine. And suddenly his whole body feels 20 degrees below freezing. He’s still crying. 

It takes more energy than it should for Yeosang to grab the water bottle, only to find it empty. Feeling the air light bottle shatters his heart. He’s already crying, and he won’t stop anytime soon. He feels betrayed for a moment, astounded that someone would drink his water. He doesn’t remember drinking it. But he doesn’t remember much of the last 12 hours, actually. Glimpses of the last 12 hours flash through his mind. There’s only bits and pieces of members’ faces after deciding that Jongho’s lap would be a good place to rest. He should apologize to their maknae.

Rather than launch a full scale investigation on the case of the missing water, he focuses on where he’s going to find more. He’s losing water faster than he can replenish. With the sweat and the tears, he’ll risk dehydration soon. And even his fevered foggy mind knows that is something he would like to avoid. He can hear Seonghwa’s soft voice in his head: “You need to drink, Sangie. We can’t have you getting dehydrated.” So that’s where his water had gone. 

The dryness in his mouth battles the nausea swirling in his stomach. He’s somewhere between thirsty and nauseous. He needs to be hydrated, in case that swirling does result in vomiting. Has he done that yet? He can’t even remember. But the kitchen is so far away. He doesn’t think he could make it to the bedroom door. The kitchen may as well be on another continent. His lips start quivering, mustering up the reserves of his strength to venture into their suddenly too big dorm. How foolish he’s been to complain about the size of their dorm before. 

When he sits up, he spots a note on the side table. There’s a chart logging the medications he’s taking and when he needs his next dose. This had been Jongho’s diligent work after he accidentally over-medicated San when he was sick. Since then, the med table has been an absolute must in the ATEEZ dorm. They don’t need any more scares like that. Aside the medication chart, there’s a sticky note written in Hongjoong’s scratchy handwriting. He wipes the tears from his eyes so he can read it: 

I got you two days off. We’ll see how you’re feeling after that. Mingi is going to be at the dorm with you. Let him know if you need anything. Feel better. -Hyung. 

A wave of relief washes over Yeosang’s weakened body. He smiles for the first time since he’d woken up, thrilled to find he’s not alone in the dorm. Not only will Mingi be able to help him, but he doesn’t like to be alone when he’s feeling so poorly. Not that he’s ever told anyone. He knows sometimes it’s unavoidable. 

Relaxing back into the bed, Yeosang reaches for his phone to call Mingi. Just pulling the phone closer to him hurts his muscles. And the bright light of the screen has him seeing stars. A new headache pulses behind his eyes. But all he has to do is pull up Mingi’s contact and press the phone button. He can manage for that long. 

“The number you have dialed is not valid.” 

That’s not possible. He tries again. 

“The number you have dialed is not valid.” 

The relieved smile falls, and Yeosang’s eyes fill with tears again. Maybe one more time. 

“The number you have dialed is not valid.” 

And when he hears that dreaded message a third time, the tears spill again. Did Mingi block his number? Or did he turn off his phone? But Mingi’s supposed to be taking care of him. He hasn’t seen Mingi all night, if the fleeting flashbacks are anything to go by. Doesn’t Mingi care about him? Shouldn’t Mingi check in on him? He weeps at the cyclone of thoughts swirling through his clouded mind. 

He’s never craved attention so desperately. All he wants is touch. Nothing too extreme. Delicate fingers running through his hair. Maybe a steady palm on his shoulder or cool knuckles against his forehead. He just doesn’t want to be alone. In all of his nightmares, he ends up alone. But those are just nightmares. He never thought they would translate to his reality. Hopelessly, he clutches the phone close to his chest and weeps. Maybe Mingi will hear him? Maybe Mingi won’t care. 

Mingi has cleared through eight levels already. He’s hyperfocused on each mission, the game much more captivating than even the trailers made it seem. He’s so engrossed in the game, he’d nearly forgotten about Yeosang. That is, until his phone rings and he catches sight of Wooyoung’s silly selca on the screen. He instantly pauses the game and picks up the phone. 

“Song Mingi! Where are our updates!” Wooyoung screams. Based on the voice’s distance from the receiver, he assumes Wooyoung is not alone. The others are probably crowding the phone. 

Mingi startles at the question. How long has it been since he last checked on Yeosang? He’s been back for nearly three hours. He bites his lower lip. “There’s nothing to report, Woo.” He hesitates, “Sangie’s been asleep the whole time.” 

“Did his fever break yet?” 

“He didn’t even wake up for his medicine?” 

“You should wake him up. He needs to eat.” 

Mingi’s heart sinks. The members all trusted him to take care of Yeosang. He wants to contribute to the team. And he doesn’t even do that well. His mentality shifts to formulate an excuse. In his defense, he's used to having the place to himself these days. And Yeosang's been so quiet, he'd forgotten he was there. Mingi just hopes the quiet isn't a bad thing. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi states ambiguously, “I’m going to check on him now. I’ll update the group chat.” He hangs up the call before anyone can voice their disappointment.

When he approaches the bedroom corridor, he hears the sobbing. The sound gets louder as he rushes to Yeosang’s room. He throws the door open and finds Yeosang curled into a fetal position. 

His eyes have dried up from dehydration, no more tears left to shed. But his voice still breaks with hiccuping whimpers and sobs. Mingi rushes to the bedside, falling to his knees to get as close to Yeosang without climbing into the bed with him. 

"Sang-ah. Hey, are you okay?" He asks stupidly, already knowing the answer is a blaring no. "Are you still feeling sick" like the bright red feverish flush doesn't give it away. 

Yeosang just curls tighter into himself, shaking his head. He convinces himself that there is no way Mingi is here with him now. Mingi doesn’t care about him. He must be having another fever dream. This Mingi will leave him eventually. And he’ll be alone again. 

Mingi brushes his fingers underneath Yeosang’s sweaty fringe. Yeosang almost leans into the touch, but succumbing to the comfort would just be an evil trick. “You’re burning up!” Mingi exclaims, “Bre-Breathe with me, hyung, we-we need you to calm d-down.” 

This nightmare Mingi even stutters like the real one. And now there’s a hand on his chest, and a face close to his telling him to breathe in. And hold. And breathe out. Because he’s so close, and so warm, Yeosang does. Until he his breaths even out and he can no longer hear the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. All he hears now are comforting nothings whispered in Mingi’s deep, soothing voice. And he starts to believe Mingi is more than an evil figment of his imagination. His touch is genuine. His presence is comforting. His concern is written on his features. 

Nightmares make him cry. The nightmares never cry themselves. 

“You scared me,” Mingi confesses. He presses his forehead against Yeosang’s burning skin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you. What got you so upset?”

Yeosang sorts through his mind, trying to remember why he was so worked up in the first place. But he can’t focus on anything but the spots where Mingi’s skin is on him. It’s a welcome presence, a comfortable tingling reminding him that he’s not alone. Not in his room, and not in the world. He just makes a noncommittal sound, holding his arms out to initiate more contact. 

Mingi notices Yeosang’s phone clenched tightly in his grip as he goes to hug the older. He tries to pry the phone away from Yeosang, “Silly hyung, you shouldn’t be using your phone when you’re sick.” he jokes, “You should have been resting.” 

When Mingi pulls the phone away, the memory floods him again. He had tried to call Mingi. The number you have dialed is invalid. He remembers. Mingi doesn’t care about you. He reaches for the phone again, “You didn’t answer me.” He rasps, his mouth dry and voice hoarse from disuse.

“What was that?” Mingi hadn’t heard. 

“I-I tried to call you.” Yeosang shows Mingi the phone screen, shows him the three attempted outbound calls, “I needed you.”

Mingi pulls out his own phone. He checks his call records. He has exactly zero missed calls from Yeosang. But when he looks back to Yeosang's phone, he immediately recognizes the issue. He pulls Yeosang into a tighter hug, "Oh, hyung." He sighs, "that is my old number. I had it changed while I was on leave." 

Yeosang sniffles, suddenly feeling shy. And ashamed. His fault. He should have known better. Mingi would never shut him out. He's one of Mingi's top 5 favorite hyungs. "Oh." It's a small sentiment, but it clears up everything. If it comes up again, he'll blame it on the fever. 

Mingi snatches the phone from Yeosang yet again, and this time the older relinquishes it without complaint. "Here hyung," Mingi taps at the screen, "I deleted my old number and added the new one. So it will go through the next time you call." 

Yeosang nods, a lingering pout on his lips. He's grateful for Mingi's updated number. But he doesn't really want a reason to use it. 

"Not that you'll be calling me anytime soon. Because I'm not going to leave your side until you're feeling better." The taller man climbs into the bed. Yeosang smiles, quickly wrapping himself around Mingi like he's a body pillow. "Seonghwa may try to kick me out, but he can fight me. I think I can take him." Mingi smiles, running fingers through the older's dark hair. 

Yeosang just hums in reply, quickly falling asleep to the rapper's gentle scratching. "But don't tell him I said that." Mingi's laugh is music to his ears. "Hey, are you falling asleep?" And just like that, the soothing petting stops. Much to Yeosang's dissatisfaction. "No, you can't yet. I have to give you your medicine. And food. And you still have a fever. I haven't even taken care of you yet." 

"Not hungry," Yeosang replies, muffled against Mingi's shoulder. 

"Not negotiable. The others might actually kill me if I don't pamper you like the prince you are." Now it's Yeosang's turn to laugh. But it quickly digresses into coughing. And that reminds him, he's awfully thirsty. 

"Water." The vocalist raspy once he's finished coughing, "Thirsty." 

Mingi eyes the empty water bottle on the floor. He picks the bottle up with his left hand, and scoops Yeosang up into his right side. "Don't wanna move." Yeosang whines. 

"You're not moving. I'm carrying you." Mingi rebuts. 

"Still moving." He mumbles against Mingi's neck. Despite his protest, he quickly latches on, tired arms slung around Mingi's shoulders. "Where are you taking me?" 

"The kitchen," Mingi replies like it's obvious. "You said you wanted water." 

"I want you to bring me water." 

"No. I just promised that I wouldn't leave your side. Not even for a second." Mingi's wide hand runs along his back. 

Yeosang doesn’t have the energy to argue. So he succumbs and lets Mingi carry him to the kitchen. He gulps down the water while seated on Mingi's lap. He even eats a few pieces of fruit before he all but orders Mingi to take him back to bed. Mingi takes his temperature and records it on the log. He's still teetering at the 39 mark. Yeosang takes the meds he offered then resumes cuddling with the younger rapper. Mingi makes sure he sends a photo to the group chat. 

He's nearly asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of Mingi's chest, when his eyes shoot open and he reaches for his phone. 

"Sangie, what's wrong?" Mingi asks, but Yeosang doesn't reply. He keeps tapping at the screen. The room is silent for a few seconds until Mingi's ringtone echoes through the room. Mingi picks up his phone and shows Yeosang the Hehetmon drawing on the screen. 

Yeosang ends the call, wide smile on his face as he sets the phone back and nuzzles himself into Mingi's chest again. "Just making sure." 

Mingi smirks, presses a kiss to the crown of Yeosang's head. "Sweet dreams, hyung." 

And they are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I've had this idea in my mind for a really long time. Mingi and Yeosang are my Ateez biases. I personally found the phone number incident really charming, especially the way they handled it. Also, no disrespect toward Mingi's hiatus. I have the most respect for him prioritizing himself and his health.

I feel like my writing has gone to shit. I'll keep working on it. Send me prompts to help me?

As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

#ateez #ateez sickfic #ateez fever #sick!Yeosang #caretaker!Mingi #ateez canonverse #minsang #tw fever #aki sickfic #aki writes #tw nightmare

[popentertainment-interviews]

JA Bayona and Enzo Vogrincic

Society of the Snow is One of the Most Harrowing films of All Time – and Chilling As Well by Brad Balfour

It’s an understatement to say that I’ve seen lots of films with varying degrees of frightening circumstances informing them. But Society of The Snow was one of the most harrowing – well deserving of award nominations, including the Oscar for Best International Feature. Though the film is fiction, it’s based on a true story and is done in such a way that you feel yourself actually experiencing the cold, anguish and pain as the story reveals itself.

In 1972, a Uruguayan rugby team chartered a flight to Chile, which catastrophically crashed on a glacier in the heart of the Andes. Of the 45 passengers on board, 29 survived the initial crash, although more would die from injury, disease, and an avalanche over the following weeks. Trapped in one of the most inaccessible and hostile environments on the planet, the survivors were forced to resort to survival cannibalism of those who had already died in order to stay alive. However, rather than turn against each other, the survivors drew upon the cooperative teamwork they learned through rugby, along with their spiritual faith, in order to escape the mountains. Only 16 of the 40 passengers ultimately survived.

Director JA Bayona discovered Pablo Vierci's 2009 account of the crash, La sociedad de la nieve, while conducting research for his 2012 film The Impossible. He bought the rights for the book when he finished filming that movie. Bayona recorded more than 100 hours of interviews with all of the living survivors. The cast is composed of Uruguayan and Argentine actors, most of whom are newcomers. The actors had contact with the survivors and the families of the victims.

Society of the Snow was the closing film at the 80th Venice International Film Festival, in an Out of Competition slot. It played in theaters in Uruguay, Spain and a limited run in the United States in December 2023, before streaming on Netflix in January 2024. Society of the Snow received positive reviews and won 12 awards including Best Picture and Best Director at the 38th Goya Awards and was nominated for Best International Feature Film, representing Spain, along with Best Makeup and Hairstyling at the 96th Academy Awards.

This Q&A with writer-director Bayona and star Enzo Vogrincic took place in front of an audience a few weeks before Oscar Night.

Society of the Snow was shot in sequence, which is so rare now. Also shooting on location with all the challenges. How important was it to you to have an Uruguayan voice to this film, this passion in your life for the last decade?

JA Bayona: This story is not only well-known in the Spanish-speaking world, but also [throughout] the whole world. There are many documentaries about it. There were two movies already done (ed note: Survive! in 1976 and Alive in 1993), so we had to do this one right. We spent the time, and we wanted to shoot in Spanish. There was no way to shoot this film in another language than Spanish with a Uruguayan accent, since it was based on a book by a Uruguayan author with a Uruguayan voice and a Uruguayan actor. It took us 10 years to find the financing, find a place where we were allowed to show up and believe in the film, and believe in the level of ambition we were looking for, again in Spanish. Once we knew the film was going to be done – actually before then – we did auditions for nine months, looking for the actors. I saw 2,000 self-made tapes, and from those, I started to choose faces and meet actors online, because it was during the pandemic. We finally got our cast. That was at the end of 2020. We did two months of rehearsals – which is a luxury – maybe seven weeks. Then, all the cast met the real people they were portraying or the families of the dead. Then we spent a very long shoot, 140 days, which was extraordinary. We created such a beautiful family. Everything that’s in front of the camera was real. The friendship, the love, the sense of camaraderie, and we were there with our cameras. We captured that. 

Who was your continuity director? You've been recognized for makeup and hair. This was another-level continuity.

JA Bayona: I gave the actors a lot of space and freedom to improvise, because they were so well prepared. They spent two months in rehearsals, met the survivors, and read the book. They had all the information, and then they worked in similar conditions, with a context that was constantly stimulating the performance. There was a lot of space to improvise. We shot 600 hours of material. The heroes of this film are the editors because they had to deal with that. There were a lot of continuity issues that we had to deal with in the editorial.

Enzo, when it comes to rehabilitation in the hospital, the showers, the emaciated bodies – and being a 2024 film realist – it wasn’t body doubles. Your body weight went from 159 to 103 during the shooting of this film. That was real. How important was it for you, for the living and the dead, to honor your character?

Enzo Vogrincic: While we were making the film, as actors, we always thought we owed the people that survived and those that died, to tell their story as realistically as possible. Therefore, when we were filming things such as hunger or cold, we were barely able to move. It was a way of replicating what they had gone through, beyond our acting, because we knew that we had a responsibility to the people and to the characters. This was not a typical shoot whatsoever. It was part of the story, so fundamentally, we were willing to do whatever it took to get that realism in. After putting in 12 hours of filming and besides, we were eating very little, we found that we could set up a gym afterwards. At night, those of us who were not filming, we were training and continuing to lose weight.

How important was it to you that this project be delivered in a Uruguayan voice?

Enzo Vogrincic: This is something that was fundamental to us because this story has been told before, but not with our voice. I thought that was the key thing to do because – though some theories say we are human regardless of where we took place – but these were the stories lived and survived by actual Uruguayans. We thought that to be able to tell it in the original language, it was important for us to understand the tales of the survivors so we could tell the story better. There were terms, feelings, and all those things which mattered, because it hadn’t been done that way before.

There were scenes that involved faith, the notion of a higher power, permission from God. On the other hand, what kind of God would allow this? Those scenes were directed with great care. Tell us how you approached that?

JA Bayona: I always try to be as close as possible to the characters, to the reality, in order to be able to capture them with a sense of authenticity, a sense of place, of being there. These guys were, most of them, very religious. There was a lot of religious iconography. I like to think the film tries to be more spiritual than religious. I see these people like orphans, abandoned in a place where life is not possible, and they need to reinvent life. They need to, somehow, reconsider what is important and what is not, as human beings.

By doing so, the movie becomes a mirror of ourselves. They had to start everything from scratch. They were abandoned by the authorities, they were abandoned by their families, so they had to. For them, it was a journey of self-discovery. It was also a way of understanding that God was everywhere, in order to survive. There was not a religious institution in the middle.

When we mention cannibalism, when we talk about it, that's a word they don't like to use. I think this film makes a big change; in that it's not about taking. It's about giving, about giving yourself to others and suffering the same pain that they are suffering. By doing that, feeling empathy …understanding that you and the other person in front of you are really the same. It's like when Gustavo Zerbino told Roberto Canessa, "You have the strongest legs, you need to walk for us." [And he did just that, walking out from the crash down the mountain towards civilization until they were found, which saved everyone who remained.] 

There's an immediate realization that you and the other ones are the same. We are all the same. To me, that feels sacred, spiritual and transcendent. To understand that we are all part of the same thing. That resonates in the world we live in right now, especially with young people. We are surrounded by so much conflict, and finally having this story that tells you that we are all part of the same thing, that we are all aboard the same plane. We need to come together to find a solution. We had such an important message. That was our fuel. 

With today's GPS, the flight would have landed at its destination safely, one would hope. You had to get the technical details right. The formal report said it was pilot error. That's clear from your work. How challenging was that, starting with your visit to the crash site? 

JA Bayona: We had to give the context to make others understand what they went through, and by doing so, what they did. We put so much effort into all the details, like talking about the type of plane. We went to the Uruguayan Army. We had a very honest conversation with them. They accepted that it was human error. But it was actually a combination of human error with some kind of an early model of GPS that failed that day. They basically had to do this turn there because that kind of plane was not able to fly at 40,000 feet. So they had to go through a lower pass. They had to do this kind of U-turn. It takes 20 minutes to get from one side to the other. They turned to the right only when they were six minutes into it. That's why it's considered to be a human error because there was no way that the pilot didn't know that. The pilot had done that journey many times. But we really don't know what happened in that cockpit. I decided to leave the camera outside of the cockpit out of respect for the pilots. We knew that there was a machine that failed there. But anyway, we decided out of respect not to get into that space, so we stayed with the other characters.

Will your life ever be quite the same after the experience of filming this movie?

Enzo Vogrincic: In life, everything you do changes you. You're never the same after an experience this informative. Of course, I’ve changed. I am different. I like to take every opportunity to continue changing myself. The biggest changes were on a professional level and in terms of how much I learned. I had to go in depth into my character and we spent one to three years with those people talking about life, death, friendship, love, family and making friends. I've made 25 new friends and therefore I like to think that I did change.

Talk about your immersion in your new extended family. The family of the living and the family of the dead.

JA Bayona: I sent an email to the survivors in 2011 and in that first email, I already sent a line about Roberto Canessa that said, “Talking to the dead, accepting peace, gives us the chance to live other lives we didn't have the chance to live.” I was very struck by that conversation between the living and the dead and that sense of depth towards the dead. The more I was in contact with the survivors and the more we talked, the more I realized that they needed the film to be completed and released even more than I did.

My big question was what was left to say after so many documentaries, books, and movies. Now I realize, after seeing the film with them, that it was not about telling something that wasn't being told yet. It was more about giving them the chance to say thank you to people who’d been so important. I see how it was like a poetic thing, the fact that people who didn't make it, they gave everything they had for these people to be alive. Now they are using their testimony to bring these people back, to keep them alive again on the screen. By doing so, I realized that they were comfortable with the story. So it was more about giving these folks a chance to say “thank you” to those who had helped while capturing the mood, feelings and context of what they had gone through so that people seeing the movie would understand what had happened. 

In the hands of another director, the debate over sheer survival might not have been handled as beautifully as it was with you. There's a line in the script where Enzo’s character says, “What was once unthinkable became routine." As the black & white photos are being taken, there's a shot showing a human rib cage in the background, almost cavalierly, but it mostly was kept out of the photos. The pictures, of course, are still with us today. They're on the web for people to see. You've managed to take on such a life-and-death topic and deal with it matter-of-factly but with great respect and discretion.

JA Bayona: I'm so glad that you asked about that “unthinkable” line because that's life. That's life. First, you do what you think is impossible, then you get used to it, and then there's a moment that you don't pay attention to it. Our ordinary lives are about that. These people remind us how important every single detail is in our lives. It doesn't matter if your skin is black or white or if we’re American or Spanish. We each have our chance to live life. But when you meet these guys, you meet people who’ve been given an extra chance. That makes a big difference. Their story helps us realize that sometimes we complain and don’t appreciate what we have, the fact that we do have lives to live.

How cold did it get? At what altitude did most of the filming take place?

Enzo Vogrincic: Well, I have to admit, it was hard to tell this story. You feel you have to go through the pain yourself, in order to tell it well. The shooting was hard, obviously, because you have to connect the pain with your own body. We had to lose weight and experience the cold. You have to do it until your body becomes part of that character’s story. There were experiences that allowed us to feel the pain. We were able to work less on certain things and still retain the emotional tone of the story. The emotions didn’t take over necessarily when your body had to suffer. There were other important components, too, in addition to the pain and the suffering. You were able to see that you had a duty to carry out which took you beyond the pain, because you had a story to tell in a competent way. 

JA Bayona: Let me add one story. Enzo did such an extraordinary job. He was so committed to the performance of Numa that when we finished the shoot we had to go back to the Andes because the first time we went, there had been very little snow because of global climate change. We went for one year. Once we finished the shoot, we went back to shoot again in the background. Secretly he was in Uruguay, and I called Enzo and said, “What are you doing next Wednesday?” He said, “Nothing.” I said, “I want to take you to the actual place where the plane crashed. I don't have permission from the other producers, but I think I can manage to bring you there. How much is the ticket?” He said, "$400.” I said, “Well, we can pay $400. I can talk with the insurance company and the professional drivers.”

I secretly took Enzo finally with the blessings from the other producers just because he did so much. We had this shoot then we had the person in Germany that was to do this film. I really wanted Enzo to be there and be able to shoot some shots that were very helpful for the film. You can treat the audience by putting in a couple of shots of Enzo there and there. At the same time, Enzo had a closure to that journey. He was able to do these shots but was also able to stand in front of the great theater. I don't know what you said there, what you did there, but you had your moment there. To me that was very important. When you do a film, the whole atmosphere affects the final result. I pay attention to these kinds of details. Also, I wanted him to be there and have that closure.

Having just shared this in a theater, I know that’s what movies are designed for, communal viewing experience. But when someone watches your movie on a streaming device. How does it affect you? And to be honest, can you interpret it for any language that it needs to be interpreted for?  

JA Bayona: Can we take the Netflix people out of the room for a second? No, listen, we spent 10 years trying to make the financing for this film. We tried to do this film by conventional windows to the cinemas. Apparently, there is no market for Spanish films that are over $10 or $15 million in budget. We couldn't do this film with that budget. We spent 10 years and when we were about to give up, Netflix showed up and put in the money and gave us the freedom. They made the film possible.

At the same time, I come from Spain. To me, it's more difficult to handle the market in the US than in Spain. I'm quite popular there. We released the film on December 22nd. It was a limited release, 100 cinemas. Normally one of my films would be in 500 cinemas. We released the film in 100 cinemas. I decided to go with the film. Every week, I went to a different city and showed the film. The film is still in the cinemas, in the same number of cinemas. We've done 100 million admissions. The film actually is doing better since it's on Netflix. I'm very happy that Netflix made the film possible and made it accessible to the whole planet. We had 100 million people watching the film in the first 10 days. So it’s not true. There is a market for Spanish films. But I'm glad that the movie is still in theaters for people who want to see it there.

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: March 6, 2024.

Photos © 2024 Brad Balfour. All rights reserved.

#JA Bayona #Enzo Vogrincic #2024 #Interviews #Season of the Snow #Brad Balfour #Youtube