#some parts of the trailer looked good and other parts... yea h..

[gradelstuff]

TOMURAAADFGHJKK

#me.txt #bnha spoilers #i lov Shigaraki #omggggg #he's so pretty with his long hair 😭💝 #some parts of the trailer looked good and other parts... yea h..

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 3 (MBJ x Black Famous OC)

Warnings: angst, emotional distress (there will be more explicit warnings on the next chapter and beyond!)

A/N: I don't know what to say here except this is 4k words of our favs in a mopey sad phase lol

“Anything else for me, T?” Charlotte asked her agent as they sat in her office and reviewed her schedule for the upcoming months. Charlotte was finally back home in LA after filming Creed and a guest spot on a tv show, and was looking forward to a couple months of quiet before the Creed press tour. If she could push that off further, she would.  

Her nails tapped lightly on her phone as she texted her brothers, the siblings coordinating their surprise visit for their dad’s birthday later that week. 

“Just the MGM Productions Gala in two weeks,” Tamika answered as she scrolled through her calendar. 

Charlotte wrinkled her nose in confusion. “What’s that?” 

She waved her head. “Nothing big. Just a gala and party MGM throws for their Q3 and 4 movies. All the actors, producers, and writers are invited. They’ll premiere the trailer for Creed so you’ll walk the carpet with Michael, takes some pictures and likely go on stage when the trailer is shown. Seating chart has you and Michael next to each other. Nothing special but should be an easy and fun night.” 

Charlotte’s heart fell into her stomach as she heard his name, a nauseating feeling consuming her. The gala sounded like torture. How could she spend an entire evening glued to his side when he likely hated her? Would he even want to speak to her? she would not want to speak to her if she were him and now, he would have no choice.

However, she knew those concerns could not make their way to her agent. So instead, she simply nodded. However, she could not stop the quiet question that fell off her tongue, her own desires to know if Michael had raised an issue about the event were too powerful. 

“H-Has Michael heard about this?” She coughed lightly. “You know, reviewed the seating chart and everything?” 

Tamika nodded slowly, her eyes slowly but surely taking in the anxious and concerned look on the young woman’s face. 

“Yea… been emailing with his guy all morning. He said Mike ok’ed everything. Why? What’s wrong?” At Charlotte’s silence and anxious fidgeting, Tamika sat up in her chair, her arms folded against the cool glass of her desk. “Anything happen between you two that I should know about? Something that could bite us in the ass later.” 

Charlotte immediately shook her head. “No, no of course not. We’re good.” 

She knew that was not the truth. Radio silence for months hardly equated to good. She had considered reaching out to him, her regret urging her to open their text thread and type out a message only for her guilt to cause her to delete it once more. A vicious cycle she had been stuck on for weeks after the wrap party. At first, she felt his absence like a gaping wound that would not heal. It ached and throbbed so persistently she could not dare forget it. 

But in true Charlotte fashion, she threw herself into her work and her next project. It was just two months but the late nights and early mornings of tv consumed her life and energy, leaving little to no time to pine after Michael. And so eventually, that wound seemed to heal. Until today. Today, she felt as if she was bleeding out again with nothing around to stop it. 

Tamika rolled her eyes before turning back to her computer. Charlotte could tell she did not believe her. However, she appreciated that she did not push her for an answer.

“Ok well… whatever’s not going on between you two, fix it before October. You’re gonna be spending a lot of time with him to promote the film and films sell better when the cast actually likes each other. Got it?” 

“Understood.”

****

Rambunctious laughter filled Michael’s basement as he and his boys gathered for their monthly poker game. Even though he always lost money, it was one of his favorite nights. Just a night when he wasn’t famous or an actor, he was just a guy unwinding with liquor, weed, and good conversation.

“Nigga… you’d think you’d be better at this shit by now,” Steelo called across the table to Michael who merely shook his head. 

“I know, I know. I’m tryin’. Ain’t my night, I guess.” 

“Nah you ain’t doing shit. This the worst you’ve played and you the worst poker player a nigga has ever seen. It’s embarrassin’,” his trainer and friend, Calliet, told him. “Somethin’s got you preoccupied. Tell us so we can get on with the night.” 

Michael scratched the back of his head. Was there anything he could say that did not make him look like a desperate love sick puppy to his boys? Because the only thing consuming his attention these days was one person he had not even spoken to or seen in months: Charlotte. He tried and tried to push her out of his mind by fucking his way through models and actresses, hoping someone would make him feel even an ounce of what he felt when he was by her side. But none of them held a torch to her. So he tried to avoid thinking about her at all costs, locking his emotions away in a cage for as long as possible. However, when he found out about their upcoming event, the bars on that cage had gotten more fragile with each passing day. 

“Anything to do with seeing Charlotte in a couple weeks?” His brother asked with a smirk on his face. 

Everyone around the table laughed at how Michael’s entire being shifted as soon as her name was mention. 

“Ahhh there we go. It’s a woman… it’s always a damn woman,” Calliet sighed deeply. “What happened?” 

Michael tossed his cards face down on the table, his hand rubbing his eye for a moment before he shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know? And that’s what’s tripping me up. One minute she seemed like she was all in a-and wanted to be with me. And the next, she pushed me away. Said she didn’t deserve me… whatever the hell that means.” Michael paused. “I dunno. It was fuckin’ weird. She seemed almost scared? Or like the idea of dating me had her in a panic.” 

He tried hard not to think about that night even though it often played in a loop in his head. It played so clearly in his mind like it was a movie. He could still see the tears in her eyes a-and the tension in her body, and hear the brokenness and panic in her voice. Despite his efforts to push it out of his mind, it persisted and he dissected and analyzed it ever since. 

Michael stood up and went to the bar in his basement, pouring himself another glass of scotch. He leaned over the back of his chair, watching the men continue to play. He knew there was no point in him continuing the game. That was just a recipe for him to make himself poorer while his friends got rich of his terrible poker game.

“Sounds like she’s playin’ you bro,” Michael’s brother chimed in. 

“Yep. And honestly, that shit sounds like too much baggage,” Steelo interjected. “You aint got time for that. She might be great but there’re plenty of women out here to fuck and date. No sense in being sad over one of ‘em.” 

The other men except for Calliet and Ryan chimed in with their agreement, though that did not surprise Michael. The rest of his friends were in the same place in life in terms of relationships: single and doing them. Their lives were all about the hustle, which meant love and relationships took a backseat. And he would admit, he was like them before he met Charlotte. However, she made him want more. And though there may be more fish in the sea, there was none like her. And he did not see a future as clearly with anyone else as he did with Charlotte. He knew that for certain. 

Calliet let out a low chuckle. “No wonder y’all niggas is single. “As the only married niggas here, you want our advice?” He gestured at he and Ryan. At Michael’s nods, he placed his cards down. “If you want her, you gotta fight for her. It seems to me like she’s scared - for whatever reason. Maybe you just be there for her and see if she comes around.” 

“You want him to wait around for some pussy?? Nahhhh,” his boy Tyrell threw his cards down in annoyance. “He can do better than that.” 

“Aye, watch yo fuckin’ mouth,” Michael’s tone cut the humorous vibe in the room immediately, his anger evident to everyone.  

Tyrell raising his hands in surrender as the other men snickered quietly. “My bad. No disrespect. I’m just sayin’ you got plenty of options, bro. She really worth chasin’ after?” 

“You told me day 1 she was your future wife, on screen and off. I got the texts to prove it,” Ryan waved his phone in his hand. “If you really believe that shit, then she’s someone worth chasin’. ’N I don’t know what’s holding her back but I watched y’all every day for months. She’s feelin’ you.” 

“Then why won’t she just say that shit?” Steelo argued. 

Michael just watched the men debate back and forth, his love life once again the subject of a riveting debate amongst his friends. He could not even get a word in.

“Who the fuck knows? But it doesn’t matter. She didn’t say that she doesn’t wanna fuck with you. She said she aint deserve you. That sounds like two very different things to me. Seems like somethin’ she’s gotta work through, not that she doesn’t want something with you. I ain’t sayin’ put your life on hold but you ain’t gotta close the door on it just yet if you ain’t ready. Just talk to her.” 

“I dunno,” Michael finally spoke up. “Hearing no once was more than enough for me. I never felt for a woman like I feel for her. And she just pushed me away.” 

“Look. I ain’t saying chase the girl. But you don't gotta close the door on it either just because your pride is bruised,”  Calliet added on, he and Ryan offering the sage advice Michael truly needed to navigate this situation. “At the very least, next time you talk, time as passed, you could get some clarity on why she wasn’t ready and if the feelings were mutual. Get some closure. But who knows, it might be a yes. And if she was worth the risk then and those feelings haven’t changed, she should still be worth it now. Then at least, you’ll have a definitive answer and you can stop being this mopey-ass nigga who I can’t stand. Moping around the gym n shit.” 

Michael bowed his head and laughed with the rest of the group. They were not wrong; he had been “mopey” since returning to LA from Creed but it had gotten significantly worse since he found out he would be seeing Charlotte earlier than expected.  

“Aight aight. I’ll think about it."

“My man!” The boys seated around him clapped him on the back. 

“Hit me up tomorrow, fellas," Stello called out across the table. "I'm taking bets on whether this nigga actually tries again." At Michael's surprised expression, Stello merely laughed. "Sorry man, I've never known you to chase after a woman or even give them a second chance. Relationships are the one area you play it safe." 

His words stuck with him as he slid back into his seat to continue playing. His streak of terrible luck continued as he milled over what his friends said. Steelo was not wrong, there was a part of him that wanted to write Charlotte off for pushing him away. But something stopped him every time he tried. He could not tell who was right: his married friends who told him to not give up or his friends who had known him his entire life. But he knew he only had a week to figure out what path he wanted to take. One certainly saved him potential heartache but it could also rob him of a love that was one of a kind. The other was a risk but a life with Charlotte was a pay off he could not pass up without thought. As Steelo pointed out, Michael took a lot of risks… just not with his heart.

***

“You sure you’re good, squirt?” Her dad asked as they chatted at dinner.

Charlotte glanced up from her plate, her entire family eyeing her with concerned looks. 

“Of course, of course,” she assured everyone, immediately fixing her frown into a half-hearted smile. She hoped it was big enough to draw attention away from her and onto someone else. 

“You sure? You’ve just been quiet all weekend.” 

She rubbed her eyes, annoyance settling in her as her family questioned her words. She understood why. There was once upon a time where she told lie after lie after lie to hide how she was doing. And now, if she seemed even a bit off, they did not believe her assurances that all was well even when it was. She would not believe her if she was them either though. 

“Just tired, dad. Two back-to-back projects has just been more exhausting than I thought. That’s all.” 

“Yea pops, you know how Charlie gets when she’s in the zone. All quiet and moody with all that method shit.” 

The table erupted in laughter, Charlie reaching over and gently hit her brother, Jackson, across his arm. While there was a significant age gap between her, the youngest, and her two eldest siblings, she and Jackson were only a year apart and had grown up virtually glued to each other’s hip. 

“Jack! Language!” Their dad chastised him, though there was no real bite in his bark. 

“Thank you, dad!” Charlotte, forever a daddy’s girl, threw her brother a smirk. “And method, yes! Moody, never!”

At her side glances her entire family shared with each other, her jaw slightly fell open in shock. 

“Seriously??” 

“In your defense,” her eldest brother, CJ, interjected. “I think it’s more so the characters you choose. Loners… moody…or depressed. And that just ain’t you, not when you’re yourself at least.” 

Charlotte could not particularly disagree with her brother’s assessment. It was not every character she had played since she became a professional actress. But she could not deny there was a theme across many of them. She had been drawn to characters who were alone in the world in some way: whether literally alone and without family or alone to contend with pain and struggles no one else knew about or could help with. They were all internally tortured by something. And well, that was a feeling Charlotte knew all too well. 

“So what’s next, movie star?” CJ asked her. 

She shrugged. “Ummm got a gala next week a-and then I’ll be back in LA for a while. Then we’ll have the Creed press tour and that’ll take up most of the fall.” At the mention of the movie, her thoughts drifted back to him. Though it did not take much these days for her thoughts to land her on his doorstep again. All roads led back to Michael. “B-but that’s it. Enough about me. We are here to celebrate dad.” She squeezed his hand, grateful to push the attention away from her and back to their father’s birthday. 

She barely heard the rest of the conversation that carried her family through dinner, only joining in when spoken to or to laugh along with the rest of the group. Her moodiness, as of late, had little to do with her characters and a lot to do with her impending dread at laying eyes on a certain actor again. She knew she would have to eventually but she thought she had more time to avoid him and her feelings about how they ended. That wound was reopened and all of her regret, shame, and pain flowed from it like blood. 

She knew she needed to let him go. She had given up her shot and she would need to find a way to live with that. But knowing she needed to move on and actually doing it was harder than it seemed.

However, it was her dad’s birthday and she knew her family worried about her too much so she tried to force herself to display the cheerful and upbeat disposition she knew her family was looking for. However, at the end of dinner, when she and her siblings and their spouses retreated to the basement, her facade started to fall.

“Open the windows, CJ,” Charlotte called over to him as he pulled a joint out of his bag and she grabbed liquor from their dad’s bar. “Dad’s gonna kill us if he smells weed.” 

“Us maybe,” Jackson mused. “But not his baby girl. He probably thinks you’ve never done drugs. His perfect little Charlie.” 

“Don’t be jealous,” she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. 

“She drew the genetic lottery… Youngest daughter? Best position to be in in the family. You got all us, except Tiffany,” he referenced the eldest Bennet sibling who could not attend their dad’s birthday weekend, “wrapped around your finger since birth.”  

She laughed and flopped onto the couch next to her best friend from college and sister in law, Lauren.  “What can I say,” she took the joint from her brother. “A gift and a curse.” 

Charlotte fell silent as she let the two couples guided the conversation. She rarely engaged, only laughing when necessary or moving to ensure the blunt made its rounds throughout the group. CJ and his husband, Allen, were both attorneys, which meant they tended to stir up lively debate amongst the group. Charlotte rarely engaged in their debates unless the topic was interesting. But Jackson and his wife, Lauren, while not attorneys, loved to go back and forth with them. 

So, she just let them fall into their usual banter while she tried to stop herself from falling into a sea of thoughts about Michael. All she could think about was what she was going to say and do when she saw him again. Should she apologize? Pretend like nothing happened and act like old friends? Take her cues from him? She had no idea. All of them sounded like equally terrible ideas and none of them were actually what she wanted to do, which was admit she fucked up and that she loved him. But that seemed like a terrible idea in its own twisted sort of way.

“Charlie!” Lauren shook her knee lightly to get her attention. Charlotte broke out of her quiet trance to turn to Jackson who had clearly been talking to her. 

“Now don’t hate me, C,” he started to say, causing Charlotte to immediately groan. She sat up a little straighter, her mind already ready to be annoyed with her older, meddling brother. 

“Oh no, what did you do??” 

“I may or may not have given your number to a guy at the office. AND,” he raised his voice to drown out Charlotte’s immediate protests, “Before you say no, it is one date, C. He is really cute, he’s a sports agent, really well established in the industry, and he’s sweet. Don’t fight me on this.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, frustration at her sibling’ meddling already boiling over. She immediately turned to Lauren, who raised her hands in surrender. “Did you know about this??” 

“I told him you weren’t gonna go for it.” 

“And yet… here he is… still presenting it.” She scoffed. “You need to listen to your wife more, big head. I don’t need a fucking matchmaker, Jay. I’m good and happy being single.”

She prayed her tone sounded decisive and sure; however, she knew it betrayed her by the skeptical looks on her family’s faces. She desperately wanted it to be true, desperately desired to be satisfied with the waves of loneliness she felt. She used to consider loneliness to be like an oasis. She felt protected and safe in its waters. It’s waves crashed but she welcomed it because loneliness was the only sure sign that no one was around to hurt her again. 

However, now, she felt as if she was drowning in it. Drowning in the frigid, dark waters, desperate for a lifeline and helping hand, someone to pull her out and hold her close. She tried to pull herself out of it, to find her way back to the oasis again, but each wave just pushed her right back down. And she knew one path to escape the waves altogether, but she could not force herself to do it. She was still not sure she was ready. 

“Well now we’re fuckin’ lyin’,” CJ muttered, causing Allen to gently hit him on the shoulder and tell him to hush. “What? She is lyin’.” 

“Alright, alright,” Lauren interrupted. “I think your brothers… and I, are just worried about you. It’s been two years. It’s great to be single and happy if you truly are. But I’ve known you for a minute, Charlotte. I don’t think you are. You don’t want to be alone forever, do you? What happens when the next guy shows interest? Are you just gonna push him and anyone else away forever? You fought like hell to leave so you could be happy. Pushing people and love away isn’t gonna make you happy.” 

Charlotte scoffed at herself, a wave of bitterness hitting her. She hated how Lauren was always right, a habit that incensed her since college. She was not wrong. That was all Charlotte knew how to do, push men who wanted her away, even when she wanted them back. 

“It’s all I know how to do,” she muttered, unable to hide that bitterness and anger at herself in her voice. 

She glanced up at the ceiling as she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. 

“Fuck!” She cried out. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered. She pressed her hands into her eyes to stop the tears from falling. Her family knew she hated to cry in front of people, hated when they saw her cry.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jackson moved from his perch across the room to sit on the other side of his sister, his arm wrapping tightly around her. “My bad, C. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want you to be happy.” 

“No, no. It’s not you o-or the date. I j-just hate this! Hate that I found someone amazing and I’m so fucked up, all I can do is push him away. And I t-thought it was for the right reasons but fuck, I am just miserable without him,” she cried out, finally voicing the feelings that plagued her for months. She had not meant to share that with her family or anyone. But in this heightened emotional state, she could not hold it in any longer. 

“Wait, you met someone??” Lauren’s eyes grew wide, an air of excitement settling over her. “Who was he??”

Charlotte’s eyes fell down to her cup. She was not ready to have this conversation. She had never told her friends or family about the feelings between she and Michael, or that she rejected him. She knew none of them would understand. She knew they would merely hear that she turned down THE Michael B. Jordan and think she was a lunatic. But she also knew she would not get an ounce of peace if she did not tell them now. The cat was most certainly out of the bag. 

“Michael…” 

“Wait - Michael B Jordan?? Wallace from the Wire??” 

“Your co-star, THE Michael B Jordan??” 

“Oh shit, y’all hooked up??” 

Charlotte let out a disgruntled groan as the room erupted in shock, exactly what she was trying to avoid.

“No, no. We didn’t hook up. But we got close during filming, spent a lot of time together. We kissed a-and at our wrap party, he told me he loved me. And I… fuck, it was like Shaun was right there, like I could still feel him and h-hear his voice reminding me that no one could ever love me.” Her head fell into her hands. “And I… couldn’t take it. So I pushed him away.” She wiped a stray tear from her face. “I dunno. Guess somethings never change. I’ll always be that girl he said I was.” 

“You always underestimating yourself, Charlotte.” Jackson shook his head. “You are a far cry from the woman who moved into my spot two years ago. That woman could barely fuckin’ look me or - shit - anyone in the eye. You didn’t get out of bed, you barely ate… for months, you were a shell of the woman we knew. And then you put in the work, you found you again. You’re healing and yea that shit takes time. But it’s progress. The Charlotte who was with Shaun and this Charlotte today are two different people. You gotta start celebrating every step forward.”  

“He’s right. And maybe this is the next step in your process. Finally taking a step back into the dating pool. You know the signs, you know what to look for now. You just have to trust your gut,” Allen offered her with an encouraging smile. 

“It’s not that easy, y’all. He… broke me,” her voice fell to a soft whisper. “And I just barely put the pieces back together. And Bakari is… perfect,” the word came out in a strangled sigh. “B-But if he… if he breaks me, I… just don’t think my heart can handle it again.” 

“Do you honestly believe Michael is like him?” 

She immediately shook her head. She would not claim to know Michael that well. But he was nothing like that Shaun, that much she knew. 

“I think he is the furthest thing from Shaun ever honestly. I just don’t think he’d ever do the things Shaun did.” And she truly believed that. Over a year in therapy taught her every sign she missed and when she meticulously examined her interactions with Michael, she did not see a single one with him. 

“OK then. He might hurt you, that’s true. He might break your heart. But that’s fucking life… that’s love. But if your gut is saying he isn’t Shaun then, at least, you can take the plunge knowing he won’t hurt you like that. He won’t break you.” 

“You gotta stop letting him win, Charlie.”

She shook her head. “He already won, Lo. Game’s been over. Probably what keeps him warm at night. Where ever he is, he knows he got what he wanted all the same.” 

“No.” Lauren answered defiantly, refusing to listen to her best friend’s defeatist attitude. “If the game was over, you’d be dead. That’s the endgame for him.” The tension in the room thickened as Lauren spoke, the words were harsh but Charlotte knew they were true. “And you aren’t. You’re here and you’re fucking killing it. Every day, you win by just living your life, being you and loving. Everything he took from you or said you couldn’t have and didn’t deserve? Those are his words, his lies. And every time you believe him over the people who actually love you,” she gestured to their little circle. “And what you know to be true about yourself, you give him power and he keeps taking pieces of you. Keep doing that and you’ll never be happy and you’ll never be free. Then he will win.” 

She glanced at Jackson who merely shrugged. “You and I both know she’s always right.” 

Charlotte let out a pitiful laugh. “I know and I fuckin’ hate it.” She sighed deeply. “I just… even if I deserved him, it’s too late. I have to see him next week a-and h-he probably never wants to talk to me again.” 

“That asshole stole so many good things from you, Charlie. And if there is anyone in this damn family who deserves a good thing, it’s you. If Michael is really what you want, then don’t let him take that too. When you see him next week, shoot your shot. See what happens.” 

“And if that nigga ain’t interested anymore… fuck him,” CJ called from across the room, everyone rolling their eyes at his bluntness but nodding in agreement.

“And you move on.” Lauren added more tactfully. She rubbed Charlotte’s knee gently. “But stop torturing yourself and all of us and just try, sis. Please.” 

Charlotte tearfully laughed, wiping her eyes. 

“I really hate you guys,” she whispered, tearfully laughing as she wiped her eyes. 

“We know.” 

Charlotte’s head gently fell onto her brother’s shoulder as he placed a quick kiss on the top of her head before transitioning the conversation to a lighter topic. She sighed to herself. 

Shoot your shot.

Sounded easy enough. But where Michael was concerned, Charlotte had only played the coward, too scared to face her true feelings and his. This would require her to play a role she had not in a long time, one that she feared she had forgotten entirely: someone who was fearless. While she did not know if she had it in her, her family did. And their faith and confidence in her was enough to overcome her self-doubt. When she saw Michael next weekend, she was going to choose happiness. She was going to choose him. 

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @lynaye1993 @destinio1 @cawi00

Read Part 4

A/N: Ok sorry for no scenes with Els/Bakari together this chapter but for my own sanity, I had to break it up into two chapters lol we will get our Els/Bakari reunion in chapter 4. We got a little bit more of Charlotte's backstory and got to meet her family who will be around… what do we think? How is "shooting her shot" gonna go? Is Michael gonna be receptive or are his feelings still too hurt from rejection? And do you think she actually follows through this time?

#black writers #black panther #mbjedit #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan smut #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan #Michael b Jordan x oc #creed iii #adonis creed #creed 3

[spacedlexi]

Hello! I like your TWDG art and I'm curious if the Final Season was your first exposure to TWDG series? What do you think of the series overall, if you've played them? Any favourite characters outside of S4? I personally stopped playing the games after S2 left me severely disappointed, I think S1 will always be the best of them.

oooo cool questions. and thank you!!

my first exposure to twdg was actually when the demo dropped for the first season!! yea ive secretly been here the Whole Time lmao i didnt play it myself tho i watched my friend play. it was the first time i had been exposed to the telltale choice game kind of format and i didnt really know how to feel about it so i didnt pick it up for myself i just watched others play. it took me a while to catch up and i didnt finish the first season until after s2 ended

the end of season one, like with most people, left me like.....really super heart broken and emotional like man i was Empty inside ahah that ending still and always will get me just Right in the fuckin heart meat. so, feeling as empty as i did and wanting to know where clems story went i jumped Right into season 2 ............ and that left me even More fuckin empty and sad than season 1 lmao fuckin season 2 is probably The most depressing season imo i didnt think i could feel worse than the end of s1 but s2 took it as a challenge

i Hated s2 and was really suffering through it but when kenny showed up i was like OH THANK GOD a familiar face (even tho he really tested my patience in S1) because i capital H Hated the new cast. sarah was fine and luke was Generally ok for the most part but the adults pissed me the Fuck off and still do for how they treated clem (an 11 year old!!) like a whole ass adult and personal therapist. but then kenny got Real scary after the whole sarita thing and jane was pissin me off for not only constantly pushing kenny (a man who was desperately holding onto a very thin thread) but for trying to convince clem that she didnt need anyone and that she’d be better off on her own (AN 11 YEAR OLD!! in the zombie apocalypse!! even tho yea the s2 cast were shit to be around). looking at s2 in hindsight the only good thing about it was AJ..bby boy...

and then about a year or so later the trailer for s3 dropped and i was like YES look at clem fuckin badass fuckin shotgun fuckin take no shit Yes but then i was soooooooooo so disappointed when i found out you were gonna be playing as some fuckin Nobody new character i was like fuck off i just want clem back. season 3 was just....pretty boring in my opinion and the only saving grace was whenever clem was around and the whole “wheres aj” plot that i wish the game focused on instead. out of the s3 cast (minus clem/aj) i only really cared for javi and mari...and well.....we all kno what happens to mari and how fast l o l rip. eps 1-3 (generously) were ok and interesting but the final eps just... ehhh. also jesus was ok but hes also a part of the comics/show whatever so he doesnt rack up points for telltale. javi flirting with him was pretty cool tho. both protags are bisexual you love to see it. bi rights hell yeah

AND THEN....SEASON 4. i immediately fell in love with the entire cast (even when vi was mean to her when they first spoke cuz i was like “yeah yeah i know you dont mean it i saw the way you were lookin at her from the wall i KNOW youre gonna be a romance option”). the whole troubled youth boarding school was such a great choice finally clem was around people her fuckin age no more adults looking to her for guidance or to parent. and she was Top Dog these kids had no real experience and i knew it was only a matter of time before she slipped into the role as their leader. i was NOT expecting it to be because of how ep 1 ends like omfg the end of the 1st ep is just.....Real Good. the ep itself was pretty slow getting you introduced to everyone but my god shit gets Real the moment clem walks into that basement and from then on out the ep is just Wild and ends with a (literal) bang.

E2 started testing my patience with a few characters (lookin at you louis specifically (even tho i still like you) because i will never get over how now AJ was the one being treated like an adult (A 5 YEAR OLD WHO ONLY KNOWS KILL MONSTERS TO SURVIVE and has never been in a group setting that he can remember))(its why my clem could never romance louis sorry dude) but violet was 💕💕 amazing standing up for clem and aj against the whole group and she takes on the role as leader cuz “no one else stepped the fuck up” i love her.... and then lily shows up and the whole drama with the raiders AGH love it

up until this point i was still just watching others play since the seasons were either too depressing or boring for me to want to pick it up for myself

but then telltale shut down. and i was like.....oh my god....clems story is gonna get cut right at the end?? i loved this new cast and i dont get to see how it ends??? im not gonna get to play it for myself!??!?! so when skybound stepped in and saved it i bought it up IMMEDIATELY i was like “that was TOO CLOSE im gonna finish this series for myself Dammit” and i did and it was great i played eps 3 and 4 when they dropped at midnight im so glad i got to experience the ending for myself on my own. i cried ahhaha so fuckin hard and i still do CLEEEEMMMM you did it bitch i love you

season 1 and 4 are really the only ones i like. and for me s4 ranks higher than s1 because of the cast and the found family trope and how its just..not as fuckin desperate and depressing and hopeless. it really just comes down to preference but s4 wins for me with s1 close second. i only ever go through seasons 2 and 3 for the sake of setting up s4 like its just formality aha. plus getting ajs plot established makes it worth it. and knowing how clems story ends makes the depressing parts easier to get through

SO YEAH OOF SORRY for the long answer i talk way too much ahah but i do really love this game. seasons 1 and 4 now reside snugly in a little corner of my heart where they will stay until i die lmao. if you havent i definitely recommend at least going through s4!!

#clem and her story are even more important to me now after how badly i was burned by naughty dog #when i finally got around to replaying twdg after lou2 came out it really hit me like a tonne of bricks #i cried like just as hard as i did when it originally dropped #clem got the ending that ellie threw away #clem im so happy for you ellie im so sorry for you #replies with lexi #long post #duela-quinzel

[peacefulwriter88]

Dust to Dust

Chris (The Destroyer) X Curvy WoC

Warnings: M for Mature (SMUT), angst, mentions of violence

Prompt – “A woman’s sexuality is a moving target”

A/N: So…..Seb once again took me off guard after The Destroyer trailer. Like yea he’s trashy…..but does he want to help remedy my ruined panties because I’m ruined. So here this is.

This is also for my girl Saran’s writing challenge – hope you all enjoy!

I may or may not make this a series based off The Civil Wars last studio album.

His hands are sweaty. The moisture falls between the dry, thick callouses that are littered over his palms, and he constantly rubs it on the rough surface of his jeans, trying to calm himself. 250 miles. Six hours. Caked up bloods that’s littered on the right side of his body, the iron taste still lingering on his tongue as he turns down to your house, slowing to find a parking spot on the busy street.

Posh townhomes and houses slowly light up as he drives by with the illusion of a better life.

Your townhome is dark.

He knew it would be. When he texted you earlier, you had said that you had last minute decided to meet up with friends for drinks after your workout but could happily cancel and he had indulged the idea for twenty seconds. But then the ache on the left side of his forehead reminded him that he couldn’t, not in the state he was in so he had said that he’d use the spare time to get in and wait up for you – that you deserved to have a good time with friends. He didn’t need you seeing him like this – wanted to keep up the illusion of all the things he wasn’t. Needed to let the dim autumn twilight fall on the comfortable city suburb, to ignore him as another passerbyer as he tried to make himself human again.

Needed to become the person who wanted to make you proud.

He finds a spot a few yards down from 2278 Quail Lane, the modern townhome that stood like a castle – what had slowly become his refuge over the past few months. This life had always seemed like an illusion to him – how the small patch of green in the front of the yard now covered with oak leaves clashed perfectly with clean brick.  There were still people in the street despite the hour, people getting off work and walking their dogs or running in the blistery evening. He hoped they would ignore him. Needed them to ignore him.

He was already risking too much by coming here, by coming to you.

But he needed the safety of your arms. It was the only way to make himself whole again.

He takes a huge breath, sighing before he turns off the engine of the ‘97 Ford white van. It’s not his, it’s stolen, he’d deal with it in the morning – doubt anyone would miss it until then. It might throw you off – he typically drove a 2009 Ram Truck, but he was also a mechanic and it wasn’t rare that from time to time he’d have a new vehicle, ensuring its safety before returning it to its rightful owner. He hopes you don’t notice, hope he wouldn’t have to add it to the list of lies that he’d have to pile on tonight.

He hated lying to you but it was a means to an end if it meant your safety.

He grabs the large, black duffel bag that’s been sitting by his side from the 250 mile stretch and debates bringing it in. Makes it more dangerous if he does. But he can’t trust it out here, won’t get the sleep he needs if he does. He’ll push it under the bed, he decides, along with the 9 mm that being sitting like an airless weight tucked in the back of his jeans and he sighs as he pulls the key out of the ignition.

Just a night.

It was the first thing he had said when you had invited him over for dinner for the first time, drinking really expensive Italian wine that he was to prideful to admit he enjoyed as you coaxed him up to your room. ‘Just stay the night? Please?’ you had whispered in his arms hours later, both of you wrapped up in post coitus bliss and he had swallowed quickly, not wanting to. Knowing it was already risky being here in the first place. Then you had looked up at him with those tender eyes of yours, that look of ample devotion – two months in and he was dizzy from your spell – and had whispered back ‘A’lright da’rling. Just a night.’

One night had become hundreds.

He wanted hundreds more.

The van door is creaky as he exits the older vehicle, makes his presence known as the sound splices through the air, blending in with city traffic as he throws the bag over the side of his shoulder that is littered with the evidence of his crime.

Can’t think about it now. Just gotta push it down.

He makes it to your stoop easily, making a quick note of the leaves in the gutter. Knows you probably won’t take care of it and doesn’t want it affecting you in the winter and makes a note to make sure to clean it this weekend, maybe Saturday morning after breakfast. He smiles, allowing himself to relax for the first time all day as he digs in his pocket, looking for his keys. The idea of having you make some fancy form of pancakes in nothing but panties and his T-shirt, humming to yourself while he takes care of a simple house task you’d otherwise wave off. He loves knowing that the memory is special just to him, that it’s part of the gift of being in the relationship with you and with the cold, silver key ring finally found, he inserts it into your heavy duty locks, first the top dead bolt, then the second before finally the door. He had them installed the minute he officially asked you to be his girl – wanted to make sure you were safe. That’s all that mattered to him,

He moves in swiftly like a panther, locking the door behind him before leaning against the thick wood, allowing the heavy breath he’s been holding to finally escape.

Step one complete.

He closes his eyes, inhales the way the smell of cinnamon and spices mingle in the air. Those damn air fresheners you get from that fancy store that reminds him of safety and home, an autumn smell you lifted to his nose three Saturdays back as you smiled up at him, beautiful bold eyes drinking him in as you asked for his opinion. He remembers feeling insecure, out of place next to you in the small boutique, feeling the heat of patron eyes on the both of you, the odd couple that you were. You were so clean – make up perfectly molded to your skin, hair pulled up on top of your head in a messy bun. You were wearing jeans and a leather jacket and boots and looked like Abercrombie fall perfection. He still didn’t understand the woman you saw in the mirror when you criticized all those beautiful edges and curves that made you a woman when you didn’t think he noticed. You were beautiful and the memory makes him feel better, the way you had pressed your lips to his unabashedly as you pulled away and murmured you were going to get the scent anyways because you knew he secretly liked it and was too ashamed to admit it.

He takes three deep breaths before he pushes himself of off the door. Time to work. Happy hour with you always lingered longer and you’d probably be hungry when you got home. He’d order something wholesome, pizza or that Thai noodle stuff that he had an affinity for. Yea. He’d do that after he cleaned his fucking mess up.

First is the duffle bag, straight to the second guest bedroom that was never used, only barely when your folks were in town. It was your storage area, where you hid your extra clothes and other random supplies and he could keep it safe here for a while. So he opens the bag, pulls the black gun from out of his of his jeans, evidence of his damaged soul, the few rounds stilling jiggling in his pocket with his change. Pushes it to the bottom of the brittle bills, crisp and pristine and clean before zipping the rest up.

This would take care of the shop. This would take care of you.

His next move is the laundry – he needs to get cleaned, to rid himself of the evidence. The tan, thick hide jacket with the faux fur that hasn’t been brandished with blood is pristine but he knows he needs to clean it, if for his safety of mind. So he throws it aside, for now, he’d take it to the laundry in the morning with your other things. The least he can do. His boots feel heavy and he realizes he left a trail of mud up to the second floor, littering your hard wood floors and fuck he’d need to clean it because that’s not what he wants you to come home to. Next are his jeans, blanketed with more mud, and blood and sweat, and he pulls out his wallet and phone, throws it aside. Grateful it was hidden from the earlier scenes of the day. The thin black jacket comes next, he knows it’s dirty as it’s still wet with Tommy’s blood, and he stuffs it in along with his grey shirt. He throws some of your stuff in, he knows you hate laundry and it’ll be an excuse of why he’s washed a load before finally he takes off his boxers and he’s left butt ass naked throwing a tide pod into the modern machine. It whistles up, he selects a cycle and the water washes the sins away.

Now he needed to wash himself off it.

He finds his phone, on top of his wallet and sends a simple text your way,

Thai or Pizza luv bug? Gonna treat you to dinner and a nice massage tonight

Before he finds the other phone, the one you can never know about and pulls out the sim card, smashes it in. Throws it in the trash he’ll make sure to take out in the morning as the modern one buzzes beside him with your response.

Aren’t I a lucky girl Thai please! Shrimp and medium hot. So excitd to see you, I’ve miissssseeedd yu….

You’re tipsy he can tell, he can guess that fairy like daze that’s on your face as you respond in whatever bar you’re in and he can’t wait to wrap his arms around you, to inhale you, to kiss the vodka and lime off your tongue, to swap it for the bitter taste of copper that’s still infiltrated his taste buds.

He needs the safety of your love.

He makes the call to the restaurant easy, figures it’ll take them thirty minutes to get here and that with any luck, you’ll be home a lot sooner than that.  The he does his final cleansing – the one part that he hates after hits like this.  

Where he’d have to face the truth.

It’s in the form of a shower, the water spraying hot over his skin, over the years of scars and his buzzed hair and face. Washing the blood away from his body, from the scar in which the bullet grazed his forehead. Washing the regret from the bank. He wants to be human again. But he knows what that will require, it will require to think back to 11 a.m. this morning. To Tommy laying limply in his lap as Terri drives away, the sound of gunshots ringing over the buzz of an alarm. To watch the light flash out of Tommy’s eyes because it was a set up, they were fucking framed, again and it feels oddly familiar and scary. He allows thick, salty tears to fall down his face like a waterfall, to not hold back choking up the pain that’s creeped down into his bones. Tommy was one of the few people he had left from the old days.

And now he was dead.

For a few thousand dollars he was fucking dead.

And it was because he was trying so desperately to get out. To be a good man. To be a good man for you.

He’s in there far longer than planned, but by the time he departs he feels better. Able to kick of the way his body has been shaking, clean soap consuming his nostrils, his skin no longer sweaty or sticky from the hours of digging up a hole to place Tommy in. Has a plan to let Tommy’s ma know what happened, knows how to square things off with his crew and to sniff out the fucking mole that he knows keeps jeopardizing them. Jeopardizing his plan to get out for good and to start his life with you.

He wanted to be a whole man for you. To validate all the selfish things he wanted from you, like marriage and a family. And he could only do that if he got clean.

By the time he’s clothed, the cheap sweats he bought off a Walmart rack paired with a simple black t-shirt the doors clicking open and your voice infiltrates the space, high pitched and excited. You’re talking to someone, at first he thinks on the phone but as he listens to your ruffling, your overwhelmed feeling he can tell it’s the delivery boy with dinner. He comes down the stairs just as you sign the receipt, forging his signature and thanking the young boy who’s taking the opportunity to check you out, the way your work dress clings to your breast, the curve of your hips. ‘A woman’s sexuality is a moving target’ he remembered one of his mama’s boyfriends telling him as a child, ‘the right one will always keep you aiming’ and the memory takes him off guard, rippling against his brain as he drinks you in You’re wearing that emerald blue color that pops against your skin, that makes him dizzy and takes pleasure in the delivery boy taking you in, before bashfully turning away as you close and lock the door.

You nearly jump out of your bones when you turn, surprised to see him as he nears but he can see the shift in you, the way your smile widens as you watch him endearingly. You could have any man, any man in the goddamn world, and for some reason the world has granted him to be that man.

“Baby! You’re home early. I thought I’d get the jump on you.”

You smell like honey and vodka, like the first time you both met in a sketchy dark bar and he reveals in the way your hands wrap around him, the aggressive way your lips press against his own. He loves you like this, when you are soft and vulnerable, putting down the tough façade you put up for the world and allow yourself to be you. That you felt safe enough to be who you are with him.

“Wanted to surprise you so I went in early to get home before you.”

He pulls you back with him, one hand firmly on your waist as the other holds the bag of food, both forgotten by the both of you. Instead it’s your velvet lips on top of his own, dominating his as you follow him, your hands running through his hair as you moan into his mouth.

“Thought you were hungry.”

His back hits the open concept kitchen island where he gets rid of this bag on the island, his other hand happily grabbing at your ass. You moan out his name and he pushes his erection into you as you kiss him deeper.

“I’m hungry for you.��

You pull away far enough for to look into your eyes, your irises diluted with lust and that something else that tugs at the back of his heart, reminds him that he’s worthy of more than this piss shit trailer home he grew up in 90 miles south from here.

It’s been three days, the first time since your relationship you’d gone without seeing the other and the tension is palpable in the air between you. It makes him snap as he leans back down into you, mouth dominating your own. You’re both hasty as your hands move to his T-shirt, pulling it over his head as he kisses you deeper, maneuvering to your couch because the bed seems too far away. You fall back on the large, plush cushions before your hands dragging his sweats down, groaning at the site of his erection before your inserting his cock into your mouth. There’s no warning as your nails dig into his ass cheeks, taking him by surprise as your tongue moves up the large vein of his cock slowly and you moan deep and sultry around the hard flesh. He nearly chokes, feels small spurts of pre-cum come up as he looks down at you, at how dirty you look, your bun coming undone as your lashes tickle your cheeks. He doesn’t want to be selfish but it feels good to feel loved by you, to hear your content sounds hum around him and he closes his eyes and throws his head back, erasing the memories of earlier to replace them with this.

Every tainted memory he wants to be full of you.

His leg stiffens, can feel his stomach knot up and he pulls away because he wants to satisfy you, wants to be buried in you and pulls away, causing you to mewl as you pout your lips. He smiles as he bends down and kisses you, deeper, savoring his salty taste mingled with your sweetness, crouching until he’s able to yank you up, causing you to squeal as he takes a seat. You take his cue, neither of you caring that the window blinds were a bit open and that if the neighbors squinted hard enough they could see him spread his legs, watch the way you pull your panties down before straddling him, watching him with those lust filled eyes. Could see the way you slowly fall on top of his cock, mewling as he firmly plants his hands on either side of your hips, carefully helping you until your both full of each other, trembling from the overwhelming sensation. You both look at each other with that same dangerous look of love, he falls into the way your fingers caress over the bullet graze, cup his chin and scratch the gruff of his beard. Falling for you had changed everything for him, wrong to right for the first time in his world and he couldn’t push you away like he planned because of this selfish feeling that was consuming you both.

You deserved better.

“I love you.” he chokes it out, the emotion taking him off guard and he’s blinking back tears he hasn’t realized were captive in his eyes as you smile down at him, leaning into him and kissing him softly.

“I know. I love you too.”

He wasn’t worthy of it but hearing those words nestled him in safety, made him feel complete. You rise high enough to shift before his hips are snapping back into you and you’re moaning his name, head thrown back as your hips take over. He likes the way you look when you ride his cock, not thinking about all the petty insecurities the world has thrown on you but focusing on your pleasure, drinking in your beauty as your body takes him. Your soft and hard and edgy in all the ways he needs and his name is a reverent song on your lips and he has to lean into you as he fucks you harder, his hands sloppily searching for that small bundle of nerves that causes you to scream, he knows letting your neighbors know the power he has over you.

And in between each pass, each look are those promised eight letters, three words that have him unwinding, falling in between that place of who he was and who he is and he feels the tears take over. All the regret of his life, the things he’s always thought he lost that now live within the both of you.

You cum furiously, your arms wrapped around him tightly before he follows, his hips stuttering as he whispers his praises for you. And then there’s the comfortable silence, drinking in each other’s breath as he finds his center again. He doesn’t measure how long you have been in the comfort of each other, instead he focuses on your breath measuring out, the way your hands softly rake through his fine hair – down his exposed back. The soft words you whisper against his scalp, your devotion and love and gratitude that he’s in your life.

These were the moments his mama always told him to capture. The moments he allowed to slip by until it felt too late.

Moments he wanted to keep with you.

Eventually, you both pull away, you insistent on peeing as you pull out of him and you both groan before your giggling about how his cum trails down your legs. He sits in his nakedness, allowing the dark night sky to consume his skin, before he takes a deep breath and pulls his sweats back up, finds his discarded T-shirt. The Thai is still sitting on the island and while you change into something more comfortable, your movement betrayed by the wooden creaks above his heads he pulls out two bowls, dishes out the meal. When you come down its in sweats that mirror his own, an oversized T-shirt that he’s gotten used to you stealing from him as it clings to your body’s curves and a smile as you lean up and kiss him again.

“I love you beautiful.” He whispers when you pull away and you smile and nuzzle his nose.

“I love you too. But I’d love you more if you cleaned up all that mud you caked in!” you tease him as you give his butt a swap before grabbing his bowl and making your way into the living room. It was October and you were on a horror kick and the movie for the evening was a classic – The Shining. He curses himself about the mud, he forgot all about it and follows you to the couch as you turn on the TV.

“I’m sorry honey…..I’ll clean it up when were done. I completely forgot.”

He knows you’re kidding and don’t really care about the mud being tracked into the house as you fall into his side, searching for the movie in your Netflix library as you cuddle into his side. The guilt still lives in his chest though, causes him to tense up and you maneuver enough to look up at him, the teasing glimmer in your eyes now gone. Replaced with the look of love.

“I know baby, I’m just kidding. Relax. It’s your home too and I know you will.”

You always knew the right words to say, always knew how to calm him down. Your hand trails up his thigh, falling into his hardened stomach from years of hard work as you nuzzle your face into his chest. He feels himself relax, to stop the rigid frame he’s in as he wraps an arm around you, places a kiss in your hair, inhaling the lingering smell from the shampoo as he tightens his hold around you.

“You always say that…..but I want to respect what you work so hard for.”

“Baby,” your voice is sterner, giving him that look you always do and he knows the lecture that’s going to come next. “This can be your home too. You spend most nights over here anyways. Most of your things are over here and it’s been a little over a year...”

He wants to peel away because of course he wanted to live with you. But if the people he worked with knew about you, knew about the small piece of heaven he’d cut out for himself where he was no longer Chris the piece of shit from the wrong side of the tracks but Chris your lover, the man that helped fix up around your place and took corny photos with you at arcades and went on romantic picnics with they tried to toughen him up.

By hurting you.

Slicing out all the parts of you that reminded him that humanity wasn’t an illusion.

So he kisses you on your forehead and mumbles,

“I know honey….one day.”

He feels you falling into him as you sigh,

“You say that all the time, but Chris I….I love you. I want you to move in. I don’t know…I like it when you’re here. I feel safe. Makes the place feel like home.”

He closes his eyes, his throat tightening. He knew that. Home was just a metaphor for the safety and warm and nostalgic memories of building a foundation in and that was how he felt about this one. He wanted to continue to build more with you here, wanted to capture you from this moment until you were both old and dying.

But he wasn’t good enough for you.

It was too dangerous.

He was buying time for something he didn’t really think he’d ever own, not long term.

“Me too darling. But…you….I just…”

He can’t find the words and you nod as you kiss his clothed chest, sitting up a bit before you return your attention to the TV, knowing that he’d get defensive, close up all over again if you pushed too hard. So you eat, silently, keeping your eyes focused on the movie. Focusing on dinner. He hated when you closed up like this, and he hated that he was the cause of it. But better this, silent arguments that would dissipate with the morning rays than to never have the pleasure of being in yours arms again.

Still doesn’t break his heart when he sees two tears fall down your face, salty reminders of the selfish man he continued to allow himself to be.

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#saransmini #Sebastian Stan #chris destroyer #chris destroyer x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x woc

[fionnmeetsharry]

Artist & Actor: Love isn’t for everyone

This is Chapter two of the artist actor series, i am working on all of your requests. This was requested by a couple of people so i went ahead and posted it. Enjoy!

He was truly brilliant, the way he would deliver his lines, how he would look so scared that you actually wanted to go out there and save him from this pretend fear that’s been created. He was going to be something big, you could tell, and so could the rest of the cast and crew.

“Y/N…Y/N”.

You turned around to come face to face with Candice, great what did she want?

“I’m gonna need you to cover your three and a good bit of the extras today, Emily’s out with a cold”.

“Who said, and why can’t you do it?”

Candice had hated you from day one, mostly because this was her fifth movie and your first, but Nathan and Chris saw something special in your work, making you the key makeup artist.

“Listen here little girl, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, which means I don’t have to answer to you. You may have Nolan and Nathan wrapped around your little finger, but if they so much as hear that a sneeze or cough came from you, you’re done. Wouldn’t want the main cast getting sick now would we”.

“Is that a threat?” You said voice full of venom.

“Let’s just call it a not so friendly warning”. And with that she was gone.

“C’mon mate just talk to her”. 

This was the third time Harry had asked Fionn to talk to you, and the third time Fionn was having to say no.

“Look Harry, I already tried that, and if you don’t remember it didn’t go so well for me, she probably thinks I’m a freak”.

“You’re seeing the situation as way worse than it actually was, I mean im not gonna lie to you, you weren’t the smoothest. Look just talk to her a few more times, get comfortable”. 

Fionn wasn’t having it, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself, he liked you too much to have you think of him negatively.

“I don’t know…”Fionn could see the hope in Harry’s eyes, why did he care so much anyway?

“She’s right over there touching up Toms makeup, I’m going to go over and see if she wants to join us for dinner tonight, you don’t have to say anything, but just don’t look like your in pain ok”.

Fionn rolled his eyes at Harry’s last comment as they headed towards you. You were touching up a whiny, impatient Toms makeup, full concentration on your face, creating the cutest little line in between your furrowed brows.

“Hello love, can we talk?” You examined Toms face one last time before looking at Harry. “Yea sure, Tom you’re done you can go”. Tom fled from you and your makeup that he hated ever so much, getting a smile out of Fionn. “So love, I was wondering if you would like to grab dinner with me and the lads tonight, it would be just the cast and crew hanging out, and of course Fionn will be there”. He said the last part in a sing song voice as he pointed to Fionn who was standing behind him.

“Harry…” You said with a warning tone, hoping that he wouldn’t let on to Fionn about your infatuation with him, hopefully he hasn’t already told him. You had already told the boy that he had a soothing voice and that his skin was pretty, so if he didn’t know by now surely he wouldn’t catch on to Harry’s hints.

“Fionn we need you on set”.

Fionn locked eyes with you, quickly looking away.

“Well I’ll umm…see you at dinner then. You are uhh…coming aren’t you?” He said as he scratched the back of his head trying his best to look you in the eyes.

“If I bet on it, she’ll be coming twice tonight”. Harry said as he winked at the two of you, hands buried deep in his pockets with a cheeky smirk on his face. You could feel the red quickly take over your cheeks, and you could see it on Fionns.

“Okay…well I better go”. Fionn quickly walked away, almost as fast as Tom, heading to set trying to escape the awkward situation that Harry created.

You slapped Harry’s arm with good force. “What the hell Harry, why would you say that?”

Harry faked as if he was hurt while he rubbed his arm where you hit it, a pout on his lips.

“What’d yeh do that for?”

“What did you make a crude remark for?” Harry looked as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean love”.

All it took was one raised eyebrow from you to get him to suddenly remember.

“Ok I’m sorry, but look come to dinner tonight and wear something Fionn would like. Maybe something a little short, I think he’s a leg guy. But you know not something shorter than you’re comfortable with, should be yourself love”.

That was such a Harry thing to say, always making sure you know you only have to do what you’re comfortable with. That’s why you’re such good friends, he never pressures you into anything you didn’t want to do.

“Fine, I’ll come to dinner, and I’ll wear something short”.

“Y/N we need you for a touch up”. One of the crew members yelled.

“That’s my girl, but not shorter than you’re comfortable with”. Harry yelled at you as you ran on set to touch up Kenneth’s face. “What was all of that about?” Harry turned around to face Candice. He wished he hadn’t spent the energy turning around just for her, especially when he needed it for swimming.

“I’m not sure what your talking about, and you do know it’s rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations?”

“Oh please, like anything she says is worth eavesdropping on, but the one and only Harry Styles on the other hand-” Harry always tried to be nice to everyone, but Candice made it difficult, that’s why he usually avoids her. “ and the new kid…Fee-on is it?”

“It’s pronounced Finn” Harry said dryly getting bored by the lack of interesting conversation.

“Fionn, he seems like he’s going to be something big, like you. I bet you’re big in other ways too”.

Harry turned to face her fully, a disgusted look on his face as he tried to push the nausea down from her shameless flirting.

“So what, does she like this Fionn guy? Cause I think he’s kinda cute, and I always get what I want, that is unless you’re available”.

“Yea…no I gotta go”.

You were starting to pack up all the makeup from the day, leaving out only the makeup remover so you could quickly clean the boys faces as they trailed in.

“Hey Y/N, can you get this stuff off of my face now?”

You chuckled, Tom was a very patient person, sweet too, just didn’t like makeup. Toms face was about as close to perfect as you could get, insanely chiseled with no blemishes, if it wasn’t for him being seasick you probably wouldn’t have done anything to him at all.

“Yea, sure have a seat”.

Tom sat in your chair as you dabbed some pre-cleanse on a cotton ball, wiping all the makeup from his face. Several cotton balls later and you were done, Tom smiling and feeling his makeup free face.

“Thanks love”. Tom said as he kissed the top of your head quickly before rushing out of the trailer.

“Now don’t let Fionn see that, he may get jealous…on second thought maybe he should, then maybe he’d ask you out”.

Harry strolled into the trailer, shirt already removed and now seated in your chair. Before you knew it he had already grabbed a cotton ball and was spraying water on it in an attempt to unveil his hidden tattoos.

“Ok stop. What are you doing?”Harry continued without success wiping at his chest where his sparrow was hiding underneath.

“I already told you pet, I’m gonna get the two-”

“No no no Harry, I mean with that cotton ball that you put water on, that’s not going to do anything, look put that down”.

You grabbed fresh cotton balls and put the pre-cleanse on them, gently rubbing at Harry’s dirty, sweaty skin. “I also mean no as in I told you I’m not getting involved with anyone from set, I want to stay professional”.

Harry grabbed your wrist gently, making you stop your efforts at getting the thick cover up off of him. He looked you in the eyes, seriousness taking over his face.

“Y/N, I love you, you know that, even though we haven’t known each other for very long I do. I care about you too much to see you work your life away, you’re too young, you need to live and find love. Don’t ask me how I know cause I can’t explain it, but I know you and Fionn and meant to be together”.

You sighed, you hated it when Harry was this sweet. You and Harry’s relationship was full of sarcasm and banter, so when he was this caring you got shy.

“I love you too H. Ok whatever you want, you can help, I’ll let you”. Harry’s face lit up, two big dimples popping out from his cheeks.

“Thank you love, now get back to work, I want to see my tattoos”. Harry left a while ago, you had stayed behind to remove Fionns makeup for him, you had even removed a few extras, but Fionn still hadn’t shown up. Did Harry really make him that uncomfortable earlier? Just as you were about to grab your bag and leave you heard someone stumble into the trailer. “Sorry I’m late, Chris wanted to talk to me…hope I didn’t keep you”. He looked tired, worn out, like all he wanted was a nice hot shower, a warm meal, and a soft bed to snuggle up in.

“No, no not at all. I’ve been doing stuff so I was here anyway. Have a seat”.

Fionn pulled off his jacket, then removed the shirt that hung perfectly from his shoulders. You hadn’t meant to stare, but you couldn’t help it. He had the softest looking porcelain skin, and he was fit. When you first saw the boy he just seemed very lanky, which now you know isn’t true at all. Now all you could do was imagine the hot water of the shower hitting the tight muscles of his perfectly toned back, rolling down the pale skin releasing the tension from the rest of his muscled body. “Umm, are you ok?” Great, you were day dreaming and now you looked like a freak. He probably knew you you were thinking about him, but it’s his fault for taking his stupid shirt off. “Yea I’m fine, just tired I suppose”.

You grabbed the cotton ball and started to clean the boys face. You noticed that now he seemed more comfortable around you, he was actually looking you right in the eyes as you removed the makeup and sweat from his face.

“So how was your first day on set?” He smiled at you, happy to be having a conversation with someone other than Harry.

“It was good, I loved it, every bit of it. You know, I think I could just do this for the rest of my life and never get tired of it”.

You smiled at how he lit up when he talked about his job.

“It’s nice to know that it makes you happy, that you’re not just in it for the money or the fame”. “No, I’m most definitely not in it for those things. I mean don’t get me wrong fans are amazing people, and it’s nice to be able to buy things that you need without worry, but for me it’s more than that”.

You were now just sitting and staring into his beautiful eyes as you listened to him talk about what he loves. You think to yourself that this is what you love, you’re not sure why, but you love to hear him talk about his day, his job, what he likes to do.

“Oh yea, like what?”

Fionn bit his bottom lip, trying to keep from smiling as he pondered on it. “Like how I can be so many different people, my job is never the same. I can go and play things that don’t even exist if I want too. I can go and play someone from the past that I deeply admire, or be in a movie that has a meaning behind it. I could maybe even make a difference”.

You kneeled down so you were now eye level with him, a small smile on your lips.

“You know what Fionn Whitehead, I’m about 1000% sure you were meant for this, and you are going to go very far in this industry, just don’t let it change you”.

Fionns lips were slightly parted, he was listening to every word you said, but he couldn’t help but to stare at your lips.

“I won't”. He said softly as his eyes traveled back up to yours.

“Good. Well you’re all done”. Fionn got up from your chair taking as much time as possible so he could come up with something to bring up dinner, something so you knew he wanted you there.

“Y/N?”

“Yea?” He was now playing with his fingers as he looked down at the ground, nervous. He didn’t want to seem too eager and scare you off.

“Umm, you’re still coming to dinner right”. You had a looked unsure, like you may say no. It’s not that you didn’t want to go, you were just more tired than you thought you’d be.

“Cause I … I really want you to join us. I think it’d be fun, I could introduce you to all the guys…maybe buy you a drink”.

It was cute how shy he was being. You had a huge smile that was impossible for you to try and hide, and you suddenly didn’t feel as tired anymore.

“Yea, ok yea I’ll go, that sounds great!” Fionn looked up with surprise on his face, now beaming with happiness.

“You will?”

“Yea, as long as you hang out with me so I’m not alone, or forced to listen to Harry the whole time”.

“Deal. I’ll see you there”.

“Great”.

You walked through the hotel quickly jumping into the elevator and pushing the number to take you to your floor. As soon as the elevator comes to a stop, you hop out and head to your room, unlocking your door and entering in a panic. What were you going to wear? What were you going to do to your hair and makeup?

You started shuffling through all of the clothes that you brought, trying to take in consideration of what Harry said. You pull out a green sweater dress, fishnet stockings, and maroon velvet thigh high boots.

“There, that should give me more coverage”.

You jumped in the shower, trying to wash away the sand that had blown in your hair while on the beach today. You lathered your best smelling body wash into your skin and rinsed.

“Now for makeup”. Sitting at the vanity in your room, you begin to do your eye makeup to perfection so your eye color pops, then applying the rest of your face before picking a lip color. You held up the many shades of maroon that you had to your boots, trying to match them as best as possible. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, so you braided your hair back. It was still a cute look, just two messy braids with some of your fringe down to frame your face. “Ok I think I’m good, I’ve got this”.

You quickly spray yourself with perfume before grabbing your bag and heading downstairs to the uber that was waiting for you. The others were already at the place, Harry had texted you to let you know, but he said that it was good that you were going to be one of the last to arrive so it doesn’t seem like you’re too desperate.

The car pulled up the the pub that everyone was eating at, you got out of the car and closed the door behind you, praying that everyone else wasn’t just in t shirts and jeans. You opened the door walking into the entry way, stopping to take a deep breath before you enter where everyone else is. What if this is a bad idea? What if Fionn just wants to be friends and all of this is for nothing? You can’t listen to the voice in your head, you have to go in there to find out, besides worst case scenario Harry is the only one that speaks to you.

As you walk into the pub Harry quickly spots you, his mouth falling open as he gets up to meet you at the door. He pulls the both of you into the entry way, looking back to make sure no one followed him.

“You look… I mean… are you trying to give the man a bloody heart attack?”

You look down examining the outfit you had put together last minute.

“Is it that bad?” Harry’s shaking his head while biting his lip, making sure to examine you one more time.

“No, s’fucking good, you look incredible. But are you trying to attract Fionn or me? I mean you know what a good boot does to me, a Gucci bag-” he said pointing to the handbag that you had worked your butt off for for years. “and -” he said smelling your neck, “ is that YSL perfume?”

“Yes Harry it is, and I can’t help that we’re so much alike”. Harry gave you an apologetic smile.

“Ok, I’m sorry love, I’ve had a drink or two…so has Fionn by the way. He said he was nervous, that things had gone well tonight when he saw you”.

You couldn’t help but to smile when reminiscing on the moment. “It did. I think I can do this Harry, with your help that is”.

“Of course love, let’s head to the table”. You were nervous, you hid behind Harry the whole way to the table, just the thought of meeting so many people at once and finally sitting down and talking to Fionn without it being work was terrifying. “Lads, this is Y/N, Y/N this is Tom who you already know, Barry, Jack and Aneurin”.

“Hey”. You said and you smiled shyly and waved.

“Here, I saved you a seat next to Fionn, he ran to the toilet real quick”. You took the seat that Harry had saved you, next to Fionn and Tom, right across from Harry and Barry.

“Y/N, you came”. Fionn was now back at the table, looking relieved that he hadn’t been stood up, but it wasn’t a date and he didn’t invite you, Harry did, so could he have really even truly been stood up?

“Yea, told you I would didn’t I?” Fionn took his seat next to you, he looked even cuter than he did on set, and he smelled amazing. He must have showered, now the images of his tense muscles coming back to your mind. Snap out of it Y/N. His hair was fluffy, he was wearing glasses, and he had a silver hoop earring. God, could he get any hotter?

You heard someone saying your name, interrupting your thoughts, thank goodness.

“Ohhh, Y/N, as in Fionns Y/N. Well I can see why he’s so smitten”. Fionns face grew red for the third time today, as he picked up a fry and threw it at the one you believed to be Barry.

“Shut up Barry”. Fionn leaned into you, whispering in your ear not knowing the affect he has on you.

“Ignore them, they’ve been drinking, they don’t know what they’re saying”. You smiled at him, sure that your face wasn’t just red from the blush that you had applied earlier.

“You clean up nice Mr. Whitehead”.

“Oh yea, well thank you, so do you. Not that you didn’t look nice on set…I just mean… I like your outfit”. “I knew what you meant, it’s ok”. Fionn took a big sip of his beer, a drop slipping out of his lips and down his chin.

“What do you want to drink? I did promise you a drink.”  

“Surprise me”.

Fionn stood up taking his bottle with him. “I like a girl of mystery”.

Harry winked at you from across the table, a sign that he thought things were going very well. Fionn came back to the table with another beer and a glass of wine for you.

“Thank you”. Fionn took another big sip of his drink.

“So I totally didn’t even ask you how your day was earlier, sort of an asshole thing to do since you asked me huh?”

The rest of the boys were in their own little world just chatting away, it was like you and Fionn were alone.

“No, no not at all. It was good, I’m very thankful for my first project being such a big one, and getting the best cast members to work on”. “Well I do have to say that we got the best artist to work on us”. It had been at least a hour by now, you and Fionn hadn’t stopped talking. The talking slowly turned to flirting and the drinks were a huge help.

“If it’s not too bold of me Y/N, you look incredible tonight”. Fionn had rested his hand in your thigh a while ago, rubbing soft circles with his thumb on the inner flesh.

“Well of it’s not too bold if me Fionn, I didn’t think that you could get any hotter, but when I saw you tonight, you proved me wrong”.

The rest of the boys were off playing pool with some of the older cast and crew, probably trying to give the two of you some privacy. Fionn had the goofiest grin on his face, an affect of the alcohol most likely, there’s no way you had this affect on him.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Most definitely”. Fionns hand left your thigh and travelled up to your lips, his eyes locked on them as he traces them with his thumb.

“You’re absolutely edible, you have the most perfect lips”. He said as he tugged at the bottom one, watching it pop back up into place. Feeling a little more daring from your liquid courage you say,

“Why don’t you taste then”.

Fionn slowly inched his face closer to yours, his thumb holding your chin in place. His soft, warm lips capturing yours, you can taste the bitter flavor of the beer on his tongue as he slides it in your mouth. Your hand is now tugging at the hair at the bottom of his neck as he grips your thigh. Fionn rests his forehead on yours, breaking the kiss.

“I don’t think you’re easy, I mean I don’t want you to think that’s what I think. It’s just…I don’t know, I have a feeling deep down in me that we’re meant to be together. I just felt this instant connection to you”.

You kiss him one more time to reassure him that you feel the same way.

“I do too”.

“Hey, Y/N, Fionn, why don’t you two come join us?” Harry yelled from the pool table that him and the rest of the guys were just gathered around.

“Do you want to go join them?”

“Yea, I’m just going to run to the restroom and I’ll be right there”. You walked into the bathroom, Candice was stood in front on the mirror applying her lipstick.

“You know, he doesn’t really like you, and Harry’s not really your friend”.

“As if I would listen to anything you tell me, I don’t know what you’re on about anyway”.

She closed the lipstick tube and turned to face you. “Fionn. It’s all a bet I over heard them talking about it…Oh come on, you know how much I like to eavesdrop. Harry and Fionn are in a bet to see which one of them can bed you first. Harry’s the nice best friend who will end up telling you that he wants to be more than friends, and Fionns the sweet boy next door. The rest of the lads are betting wages”.

“Oh my God you are so high school. Are you that bitter about my being the key artist that you’re willing to make up lies?”  

“Believe what you want darling, but Harry’s taking me back to his tonight, and Fionn actually likes Sydney. Why would you think he would like you anyway, I mean you’re no body, at least when Sydney’s not doing makeup she’s modeling”.

Candice walked out of the restroom, leaving you to yourself. You were washing your hands, going over the conversation in your head. She’s psychotic Fionn and Harry wouldn’t do that to you. Suddenly you remember what Harry said earlier that day ‘im betting she’ll be coming twice tonight’

Walking out of the bathroom you see Fionn stood next to the pool table, Sydney draped all over him with her tongue down his throat. You felt uneasy, as if the room was spinning and this was all a bad dream. How could he? How could Harry?

Quickly running out of the pub you call for an uber to meet you a block away. As soon as you get to your hotel you change into more comfortable clothes and light a candle, taking it to the balcony with a bottle of wine. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten involved at work, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let that happen again, tomorrow you were asking for new cast members. You sipped the wine and looked over the city as your heart ached and tears stained your face. Maybe love wasn’t meant for you.

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