#any time i can call her a director i am GOING TO
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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 driver!reader#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#platonic#f1 x female reader
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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader
Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.
Word Count: 5,334 words
Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd
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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.
The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.
Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.
Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.
“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.
“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.
Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.
"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."
But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.
"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.
“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.
“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”
God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.
The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.
“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.
“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”
“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.
“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.
It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.
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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.
Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.
“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.
“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.
“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”
“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.
“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.
“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.
“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.
You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.
“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”
Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?
“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.
“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.
“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.
“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”
“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”
“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.
“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.
“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”
“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”
Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.
“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”
“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”
Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.
The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.
“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.
“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.
“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”
Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.
“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.
You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.
“What’s there to lose?”
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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.
Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.
Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨
RunTao: phony photos
Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!
H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right
It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.
The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.
Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗
Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.
You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-
The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.
You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”
“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.
“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.
“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.
“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.
“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.
“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead
“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.
You’re here for Jake anyways.
“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.
“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”
True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.
“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.
“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.
“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.
“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.
“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”
“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.
“You were practically eye-fucking him.”
“Was not.”
“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.
“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”
Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”
The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.
“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.
You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.
It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.
Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.
Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.
With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.
“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.
“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.
It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.
How many women had actually made it past the outside?
The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.
“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.
“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.
The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.
“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.
“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.
“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”
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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.
“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.
“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.
“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.
“I am not eating your taco!”
“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.
“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.
“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”
With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.
The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.
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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.
The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.
It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.
“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.
“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.
A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.
“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.
“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.
“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.
“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.
“Jake, I’m-”
“You’re staying with me.”
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#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun fic#top gun fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#hangman fanfiction#hangman fanfic#hangman x reader#hangman
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On set of Dune II
This part of “The delicate beginning rush” universe- whole series HERE
If you want to be tagged
Masterlist
Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader
Warning: smut 18+, blow job, cursing, MINORS PLEASE BE AWARE
Word count: 2k
Plot: you want to surprise Austin on the set of dune 2 and he gets shy about his fight scenes, but that is all forgotten when you work your magic on him.
A/n: this was a request by someone and it was so exciting to write, if you have more, send them to me and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.
With my busy schedule I barely got my assistant to fit this surprise flight to Budapest, so I could visit Austin on set of Dune 2. We haven't seen each other in person in 5 weeks, filming taking all of our time, on opposite sides of the world. It's not easy and it definitely is not pleasant, but we aren't the first nor the last to go through long distance. I have a few days off, time which I should have spend in the studio with Taylor, who's working on her new album, but I could not stay any longer without seeing Aus.
"Y/n so nice to meet you in person, I'm Denis. I have to say, I look forward to some day working with you, you're amazing!" The director says, putting his hand forward for me to shake. I smile kindly at him and take his hand. "Oh that's so beautiful of you to say, I look forward to that day as well, your work is so detailed and ambitious." I giggle, blushing a bit at his compliments. "Now I know this is a surprise for Austin, I did not say anything" he zips his lips closed chuckling "but you do have to sign some papers, just formalities you know." I nod and sign away, promising not to tell anything that I see today to anyone. "He's working, full make up, so brace yourself, it's really, it's a bit scary, come on."
Denis puts his hand on my shoulder and leads the way, as we walk I can start hearing grunting and thudding and all sorts of scenes. I am a bit worried about seeing Austin in full make up and acting like this psychotic character, considering that after the first time seeing him over video in full makeup I had a horrible nightmare. Granted he did call me at 3 am in the morning and I did answer kinda unconsciously, but still. There's big lights centered on two figures in the middle of a blue room, the rest is pretty dimly lit, so my eyes take a moment to adjust. I could recognize Austin's grunts anywhere, having had them in my ear for so long, so my knees feel a bit weak, my skin already hungry to feel him.
As I get used to the light, I see Austin move so athletically, jumping back avoiding hits, then throwing some good punches himself. He's been working very hard in the gym gaining a few pounds of muscle, looking toned like never before. God he looks so weird with this make up, I miss his blonde curly hair, thank god for the other movie he's filming, and this is all a fake bald cap. The other guy he's fighting with, uses a small knife, which I'm pretty sure it's fake but still scary. He swings it, in front of Austin's face and next thing I know he falls to the ground, catching himself mid fall, turning his head to the camera, showing his face full of blood. I stifle a scream, covering my mouth, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I look at everyone, no one seems to notice. Austin flashes a smile, black teeth showing, with trembling hands I push my hair behind my ears and try and act as if I had known this was all an act.
"Cut! Austin man, amazing! Let's get makeup in here and clean it up, I want to shoot it one more time. Let's take five!" Denis says, and suddenly Austin's whole demeanor changes, it's so strange, he looks so scary, but his stance is so Austin. I clear my voice and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, walking forward. Austin, being the sweet guy he is, is shaking hands with his partner. "Hi there stranger, need a tissue? I think you got a bloody nose." As soon as he hears my voice, he turns around, scooping my up in a tight hug, getting fake blood all over me. "Y/n!" Austin says, holding me tight to his chest, his lips kissing my neck, leaving wet splashes of fake blood. "Did you miss me baby?" I ask, patting his back, as my feet touch the ground. He doesn't answer, instead, his hands hold my face and he pulls me in for a kiss. It wet and bitter, even a bit sticky, but it tastes like him still. Austin breathes into the kiss, his tongue, entering my mouth exploring. I lace my hands around his neck and moan into him, forgetting for a minute where we are.
Austin pulls back resting his forehead on mine, breathing softly. "What are you doing here?" He asks a smile evident in his tone. I giggle when he rubs his nose against mine, pulling back to look at me. "Oh fuck, I got fake blood all over you, honey I'm so sorry!" He tries to wipe it with the back of his hand, but I take it away, holding his hand in mine. "It's fine, I'm just glad it's fake, I thought it was real." Austin can see that I'm as honest as they come and his eyes look sympathetic "I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean to worry you!" He says, kissing my forehead head, then grunting annoyed. "I really should stop kissing you now." He says, rubbing his thumb over my forehead, on what I'm assuming is another fake blood stain. "You look so buff and scary, so so hot!" I say biting my lip.
"Really?" Even though all this white makeup I can see the slight blush he has on, turning all shy and avoiding eye contact. "So so hot!" I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, feeling him shiver as my breath fans over his skin. "I can't wait for you to make those pretty noises for me!" I laugh, but my breath gets stuck in my throat as his arms circle around me and he pulls me in, flush to his front. "Baby these leather pants are very very tight and leave no room." He says rubbing his pelvis in mine so I can feel his hard on. My blood starts boiling and I can almost see myself with him on top of me.
"Ask for ten minutes, bathroom break or something." I plead under my breath. Austin looks hesitant, but he still does it anyway. Denis gives his ok and we bolt to his trailer, knowing we don't have much time. I laugh all the way there and he tries to make small talk, telling me all about how filming as been going so far, event this he's already told all this stuff. I listen, but in the back of my head I'm far gone.
We close the door to his trailer and his lips are on mine instantly. His hands hold mine down, so that I won't be able to try and thread my fingers through his nonexistent hair. "Get on the bed!" I say breathless and step back, letting him move past me and onto the bed. "Y/n, my darling, I've missed you so so much." Austin says, sitting on his bed, leaning back a bit, legs spread wide, sporting a noticeable bulge. "I've missed you too." I admit and move in front of him, placing my hand in his hard on, squeezing him through his pants. "Fuck!" He says, throwing his head back. I work his pants open and slide them down enough to free his hard dick, looking red and needy. I lick my lips and get down on my knees. This would be my first time ever doing anything like this, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I've been wanting to try.
"Y/n y/n, no no baby you don't have to, honey come on!" Austin tries to lift me off the ground but I keep my position. "I want to, but I've never done it before, so if I do something wrong, just tell me. Please!" I bat my lashes at him and his hips thrust in the air. "Just, ok, but take it easy ok?" I nod and hold him in my hand. I spit on him and move my hand up and down, using my thumb to touch his head gathering more sleek from there. I can already feel my panties getting wet, so I squeeze my thighs together. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. So far he's been quiet, but now that my warm mouth is on him, he lets out a long breathy moan, fisting the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you are an angel! I love you so much!" He tastes salty, but good in a way. I swirl my tongue around and suck, bopping my head up and down. One of his big hands leaves the sheets and finds purchase in my hair. I moan around him and feel him shiver as a few more cures slip past his lips.
God I've missed him. "Fuck baby, you look so beautiful with your mouth around my cock, do you like it? Like how I fit in your mouth?" I love when Austin talks dirty to me, so I moan, picking up the pace, causing him to fall back on the bed, crying out In pleasure. I finally understand why he loves to do this for me, I think I could watch him like this for ages and not get bored. I feel him twitch in my mouth, so I move my free hand from his thigh, to his balls, squeezing softly. "Shit, fucking hell!" He grunts, pushing his hips a bit in my mouth. "Y/n, baby, I'm not going to last long, if you don't want it in your mouth, I'll tell you when ok?" I nod, but I know want it in my mouth, I've tasted him before, after giving him hand jobs, so now I'm more than eager to get a taste of him.
I sneak my hand under his balls and push slightly on the spot there, which causes Austin to jump off the bed a bit, pushing himself further down my throat making me gag, tears prickle my eyes. I breathe through my nose and relax for him, working on him, pushing on that secret spot. "Fuck, Y/n, baby that feels so good, ahh I'm cu-" he doesn't get to finish what he has to say, as his body goes rigid and he spills himself into my mouth. I stay calm and swallow him whole, enjoying they way it feels. When he's done, I let him out of my mouth, give him a few more strokes, ending with a kiss to his head, smiling at the way he curses.
He lifts me up into his arms and I lay my head in his chest. "Wow, are you sure you've never done this before? Because this must have been the best I've ever had!" Austin says out of breath. I giggle and kiss under his chin. "I like to read, I learn what I read." I explain, sighing when he moves his head to kiss my lips. His hand travels down my body and gives my ass a good squeeze, making me yelp, so he can sneak his tongue into my mouth.
A knock on the door as us parting, him quickly putting his pants on and me, wiping my face with a tissue. "Back on set!" A voice shouts from the other side of the door. "In a minute!" Austin screams back, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. "Can I come watch you some more?" I ask, turning the water on to was the dried fake blood from my face. I look back at Austin and he looks so timid now, scratching the back of his head. "I mean of course baby..."
"Aus..? What's up?" I ask using a towel to dry my face, while I look at him, his eyes wondering the room, avoiding mine. "Well I guess I'm just a tad shy, you know, I have to act pretty barbaric out there and I feel so silly, I'm just I don't know.." he says dropping his head. I get close to him and take his hands in mine, rubbing slow circles on his knuckles. "You don't look silly, you look fierce, and bold and scary, you have nothing to be shy about." I say kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on big boy, you've got work to do, and the faster you finish here, the sooner you get to make love to me!" I wink at him and he chockes on his laughter, blushing a deep red.
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Unlovable Child
Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader
Warnings: Child abuse
2nd Person POV
"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.
"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.
You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.
"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"
"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.
You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"
Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.
She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.
Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.
She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.
But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.
You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.
Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.
You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.
You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.
But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.
But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"
- 1 day later
Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.
You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.
Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.
You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.
"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.
"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.
Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.
She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.
All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.
"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.
"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.
Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"
You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.
"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.
A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.
Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"
"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.
"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.
You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"
A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.
"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.
Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.
"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.
"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.
Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.
She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"
"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded
She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.
She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.
She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.
The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."
You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.
"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.
"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.
"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."
You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"
"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.
She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.
She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.
She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.
"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."
"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.
"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#wednesday x reader#wednesday x you#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#wednesday x y/n#male reader
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Are you over stripper gojo?
i am… NOT 👹
☆▒ DOUBLE LIFE!➜ ★
minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.
cw: afab!f!reader; suggestive content; not proof read.
w.c: 2.3k
Satoru always had a cover response.
"So, what do you do for a living?" The blonde girl asked, sipping her cocktail— a little too bitter for her taste.
"I'm a teacher, a private teacher, to be exact," he replied, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.
The possible reaction would be bemusement, laughter, thinking he was joking, followed by something along the lines of "didn't think you would be a teacher; you seem more like you work as a model or somewhere in the fashion industry," Satoru had it all memorized.
The most skeptical would narrow their eyes and stare at him like he just said the earth is flat confidently. Satoru would then pull out a white business card, with his name, phone address and 'job' written in Times New Roman font, all uppercase in platinum colour - because Satoru was cunning enough to order himself business cards for these occasions - and hand it to them.
People after that would not question him further; what is there to be asked? The teaching profession is not the most exciting of all— maybe ask him what he teaches, but beyond that, there is nothing; it's the perfect job to cover up his... nocturnal activities.
His cover-up was perfect, steady, almost unbreakable, almost.
Until you came into the picture.
—
"Now, I think I can kind of see you as a teacher, though I'm surprised no talent scout or casting director has ever contacted you to be part of a fashion magazine or commercial," you said, scanning him head to toe. The man before you was a total adonis, tall, handsome, charismatic, charming blue eyes with a smile that could melt any girl's heart; it was hard for you to believe he hadn't ever been the face of a brand or a high fashion's magazine cover, perhaps he worked as a high-end host as a side gig?
"Oh, believe me, I have," Satoru answered, taking a swig of the colourful cocktail, his face contorting into a slight grimace afterwards, "It's just not really my thing, y'know. I don't know if I'm ready to be People's hottest man alive."
"How humble," you snort, taking a swig of your drink yourself. Satoru chuckles in return; the sudden buzz of his phone interrupts your conversation, and he gives you a shy smile. He gestures with his right hand for you to hold on a second, to which you nod; holding his phone with his left, he gets up from his seat and walks away to take the mysterious call.
After a few minutes, he comes back with a sorry look on his face. You get the vibe that something happened, and the date's probably over. "Sorry, as much as I'd like to stay longer, I can't," he says, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, "y'know, private teacher things, one of my students needs me for an upcoming competition, gotta teach him to master twinkle twinkle little star on the violin."
Now, you don't like to overthink; however, the thought that the phone call could've been a fake emergency call lingered in your mind after he left, even though he did apologize again through text and supposedly 'hoped' you guys could reschedule for another date, you still thought his sudden departure was weird.
—
"Oh, that sounds like he didn't like you and faked a rain check," Utahime said through the phone.
"You think so?" you replied uncertainly, sounding somewhat sad and disappointed, the corners of your lips forming a pout. "Fuck, this is why I don't go out with guys who know they're cute. They have it over their head and think they're the big deal."
"Well, I told you he looked like a prick when you first showed me his profile."
"All men look like idiots to you, Uta'," you rolled your eyes, putting the call on speaker as you opened your freezer, "That's why you're single."
You heard Utahime gasp through the phone, seemingly offended by your teasing, which made you chuckle a little. "I'm single because I chose to, in case you forgot- What's that sound?"
"Oh, nothing, I'm just going to drown my sorrows in ice cream," you replied casually, closing the freezer door and opening your ice cream, "and watch some mediocre rom-com to distract me from how mediocre my love life is."
"Girl, no. Put that back and start picking an outfit; we're going out."
"Uta, thanks for the invite, but I'm tired. I just had a disappointing date, I don't really feel like going-"
Utahime interrupted you abruptly. "No buts. We are going out. I heard there's a new club that does ladies' nights on Fridays, and it just happens to be Friday. Forget about that damn date, you'll have others coming. Let's go out, yeah?"
You thought about her proposal and, well, she was right, the failed date wasn't that big of a deal, not so much as to spend your night sulking on your sofa eating ice cream. You sighed, putting the ice cream back in its place, "Fine, at what time do we meet?"
—
"I heard the guys here are hot, so much so that some girl's blood pressure went up because of how sexy their dances were, or so I was told," Utahime said in your ear, her voice barely audible over the blasting music.
"You told me we were going to a club," you chided, averting your gaze from the scantily clad men. Geez, were they covered in... oil?
"Club, male strip club, what's the difference? You go to both at night, and there are men in skimpy clothing," Shoko joins and shrugs nonchalantly, not seeing the reason for your apparent embarrassment, "Come on, don't be such a prude, pick yourself a cute guy for a private routine. It's on me if that eases you up," she nudges you, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You sighed heavily; Utahime wasn't wrong. Some of the guys were kind of... hot, you suppose. But how were you supposed to ask for a private dance? Should you just come up to them and ask them? You've never been to a male strip club, and you don't know the 'unspoken rules' when interacting with a stripper yet.
Your anxious thoughts were interrupted when the crowd surrounding the main stage got suddenly louder, a pair of lights pointing toward it. You couldn't understand what the DJ was saying; the mic was so close to his mouth that it sounded like he was eating it, making his words unintelligible. Or maybe you had a bad hearing. Because the crowd, including your friends, started to cheer, wooing and lifting their shots in the air.
A song started to play throughout the club; you guessed that whoever was about to do his routine was the 'star' of the club because of how lively the crowd of girls was. The lights coordinated with the beat of the music, creating a surprise appearance of the long-awaited dancer on stage with his back turned.
Your heart stopped, jaw-slacked and speechless, as he turned around, unbuttoning the top of the fireman's outfit he was wearing one by one. Holy shit, that was—
"Uta'! It's him!" You nudged your friend frantically.
At first, she frowned in confusion, but it was only in a matter of seconds that it dawned on her. Having the same reaction as you, Utahime gasped and nudged you back, "Oh my god, you're right! It's the idiot from the date! Hell, I knew that 'teacher' thing was too weird for someone like him," she folded her arms, "and he sure does like the attention."
You looked back to the stage; the white-haired man had now fully unbuttoned his top, flashing his incredible, glistening abs on full display - you kept doubting whether it was oil or sweat that made them glint under the lights - and swaying his body seductively to the sound of the music.
Even if you tried, you couldn't exactly hate him for faking an emergency call or lying about his real job. Not when he looked this fucking hot doing it.
Satoru (if you remembered his name correctly) took off the jacket, tugging it down excruciatingly slow, showing off his ripped biceps and tossed it aside. Your eyes were captivated by the sensuality of his movements, his muscles tensing and rippling, making you swallow hard at the eroticism that carried his routine. And hell, with that frown and that sly grin, he looked so fucking hot as he danced to the beat of the music.
The more you watched it, the more doubts came to mind. Satoru could be famous; he had the charisma and appeal to be, so what brought him to this? Was it out of necessity, or did he enjoy it? Questions that would never be answered because you would never see him again after this.
Or so you thought before you were given a push (literally), coincidentally while Satoru was looking for a volunteer to pull up on stage.
Call it bad luck, but Satoru took your hand from all those who begged to be chosen, helping you onto the stage. Satoru couldn't recognize you under the dim lights of the club until he was face to face with you. He felt his heart work twice as hard, his eyes wide as saucers for just a second, masking his panic with a toothy grin.
In full view of everyone, Satoru sat you on a chair as part of his routine and stood behind you, the pad of his fingers skimming over the skin of your arms, trailing down to your wrists, his fingers wrapped around them and lifted them into the air.
"So you're not a teacher?" you murmured, feeling your heartbeat in your throat at the proximity of his lips against your neck.
"You got me, I'm not; sorry for lying to you," he whispered back, a small laugh coming from him as he took your hands to run up and down his beefy torso, feeling his every muscle rippling under your fingers.
A gasp escaped your lips as gasps of astonishment from the audience. God, it was a miracle you hadn't fainted by now. You swallowed dryly, falling prey to his erotic dance and his very presence, his hands guiding yours to rest on his hard-worked thighs and then roaming up your neck, the heat of his skin making contact with yours as Satoru pressed himself against you. You knew this was part of his dance routine, yet it felt so intimate, too much sexual tension and lascive, like a moment that shouldn't be shown to the public and kept taboo.
"Want me to tell you a secret?" he breathed, his laboured breaths blending with yours.
"Another one?"
"I was thinking of doing this to you on our second date," he confessed, a seductive smile to your eyes peeking out from the corner of his lips, "but it seems fate wanted to bring it forward."
"Do you believe in fate?"
"Nah, but doesn't it sound nice?" he huffed, tilting his head playfully, his white locks tickling your cheek, his hips sensuously grinding across your lap.
Satoru could sense your uncertainty in touching him and how much you wanted to do so. You moistened your parted lips and startled at every brush of his bare skin against yours, your hands tensed and trembling, refusing to explore any more of his anatomy. "Touch me," he instructed.
"What?"
Satoru pulled away from you, taking your hands into his, helping you to stand up and wrap your arms around his neck. With a firm grip on your thighs, you encircled your legs around his waist. "They want a show, and I know you're dying than just laying your soft hands on my body. Let me feel you all over me."
You felt your face burning, his innuendo going straight to your core. His words did things to you, like your skin prickling and leaving your mind blank. Bashfully, you complied; your shy hand travelled from his neck down to his abdomen, exploring every inch of his pale flesh as he carefully laid you down on the floor. He pried open your legs, easing his way between them, which made you wonder if this was still part of the routine or if you were about to get arrested for public indecency and be registered as a sex offender.
You finally understood why he was so popular at the nightclub; a routine by Satoru was like having clothed sex, the way his head dipped between your legs, alluding to him eating you out while moving every part of his lower body to the rhythm of the music or the way he acted out rhythmic sexual positions with you, made his touch feel igneous under your skin and sent a throbbing in your nether regions.
Fortunately (or unfortunately for you), the routine came to an end; beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he caught his breath and -painfully- said goodbye to you in front of the crowd, mentally grateful for the dim lighting of the place that hid his tented pants after his very sexual dance routine.
As soon as you stepped off the stage, your friends were all over you, bombarding you with questions, jokes and the occasional sly comment.
"So, are you going to meet him again?" Shoko asked you with a teasing -and very nosy intentioned- glint in her eyes.
"I... I don't know," you stuttered bashfully, still recovering from your heart rattling in your ribcage. As your friends kept teasing you to no end, you felt a vibration of your phone, forcing you to take it out of your pocket. Your breath hitched, and that sensation in your lower back became present again as you read the contact name.
"Next date at my place? ;)" —Satoru.
#KY000 ★#anon (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojo saturo x reader#gojo saturo x you#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satorugojo#satoru x reader#satoru gojo
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Last week I was able to watch Wish and I'm really sad because I was ready to defend the film. It does its job, it entertained me for a while, I had a great time with King Magnifico, I love the design of Queen Amaya (hehe Dama of Elche inspired) and of Asha, the star is cute….
But.
With each passing day, the more disappointed I am with the film. I understand the idea, but I don't like the execution. My only interest is the villain, and I don't even know if we can call him that: he's a man who suffered a traumatic experience as a young child and has built a kingdom trying to protect his people and his dreams. Yes, he's a narcissist and obviously his motivation is not entirely good (he seeks recognition from others and stuff), but he's doing his job and people are giving him their wishes because they want to, not against their will.
There is a new element in the equation (the star) that could take all this away from him, perhaps repeating the destruction of his first home. It is his greatest fear, which is why he does not grant most wishes. What if something bad happens. What if they use it against us. Trauma. In a desperate moment he turns to a book that we later learn corrupts you or whatever you want to call it, there's no turning back. Asha creates the villain of her story, who otherwise wouldn't have wanted to do any of that.
But the worst thing for me was looking for a picture of Magnifico and Amaya when they were young to show a friend something and confusing him with Ballister from Nimona. And that's when something clicked in my head.
Disney was making Nimona. Disney was making it and they cancelled the film. Did Disney STEAL the designs they were using for Nimona to use them for Wish?
Is the fact that Nimona was finally going to be released the reason why there are so many changes from concept art to final product? Amaya can't be bad because, hm, what separates her from The Director then? People have complained that Magnifico's eyes are too big, hm, I wonder who has been praised these past few months for their big puppy eyes.
And the star. It was a shapeshifter boy. A goddamn shapeshifter.
And I was browsing the art book and. IS THAT AN OTTER.
WHO I KNOW WHO IS ALSO A SHAPESHIFTER WHO IS SOMETIMES AN OTTER?
Of course I have no complaints about the people who have worked on the film, the art teams, animators, etc. I'm sure they worked hard and it looks like the people at the top made decisions and then they had to work twice as hard to try and remedy the problems.
But then you look at the other people who worked on the film and the voice actors ……………….. They take Israel's side? Oh jesus
What a mess.
#wish#disney wish#wish 2023#star wish#wish asha#king magnifico#queen amaya#nimona#nimona movie#nimona 2023#ballister blackheart#my thoughts#free palestine
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Hurting & Healing
Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader
Summary: You get into a terrible accident while Henry's away on shoot
Warning: Super angsty, fluff, mentions of death
Henry finally got a five minute break from his shoot and decided to finally give you a call. He had missed you terribly for the past two months as he was away shooting, and you both got very little time together between shoots. He had requested the director to take some time off so he can finally be with you again and his wish was granted, and he was excited yet relieved to know that he will be seeing you again in a few days. He sat in his chair, sipping his coffee trying to call you but your phone went to voicemail. This was unusual. You had a habit of always picking up his calls in a few seconds. Henry's heart was racing as he tried calling you again and again, but your phone was repeatedly going straight to the voicemail. He couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was now gnawing on him.
He was about to call you once more when the director called him back to resume the shoot. Reluctantly, he made his way back, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Safe to say he was worried at this point. He decided to ask his managers to try and connect with you while he was working. "Please just keep trying. My mind is thinking things, and I am not feeling good about this. I need to speak with her as soon as possible. You get it? Please." He said sternly to one of his managers, finally making his way back to the set.
But as the shoot went on, his anxiety grew by every ticking second, and he couldn't focus on anything except you. He was on edge and snapping at everyone around him in frustration. He had a temper problem, and it aggravated when he was worried and helpless. He was in the middle of the scene which he was already finding very hard to focus on, when he heard the director say cut. His managers interrupted the shoot and asked him to come to the vanity van. Henry could sense their unease, and his temper flared further. "What's going on? Why the hell are you guys not telling me?" he snapped.
Finally, one of his managers sighed and reluctantly handed him the phone, making him almost snatch it out of the others hand, which displayed a picture of you, bruised and battered laying in a hospital bed. Henry's heart sank. "She got in an accident this morning, and is now being treated in the City hospital. We have called and requested to have the best team of doctors work on her case..." His mind went blank as he kept staring at the pictures and his manager's voice faded in the background replacing it with pure silence.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to process what he was seeing. After a few good minutes he was pulled from his thoughts as he looked red eyed at his managers. "What the hell happened? Why didn't anyone tell me this before? Fuck!" he yelled punching the wall next to him in pure frustration as he bruised his hands. His managers were shaken and scared seeing him like this. One of them calmly explained that the hospital staff tried to reach them, but didn't have any relevant contacts. It wasn't until one of the nurses recognised her and contacted them. They explained that they had arranged for a charter flight to take him to her immediately.
Henry couldn't believe what was happening. He had never felt this helpless in his life. You were his world, and seeing you like this tore him apart. He felt like he had failed you. He wanted to be around you. He knew how much you were missing him. He was now blaming himself for your situation. "Fuck! I wish I was there with her sooner! I wish I was there with her to protect her. It was my fucking job. It is all my fucking fault. Fuck!" He said through gritted teeth as he again punched his hand this time in the car door creating an evident dent. His managers were doing everything to calm him down, but it was all in vain.
Trembling with fear and anguish, Henry packed his bags and rushed to the airport. The flight felt like an eternity, and his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, and he couldn't help but think the worst, which pained him even more. He sat in the plane, his mind in a haze. The world around him seemed distorted, like a funhouse mirror that distorted and twisted everything into a grotesque caricature. He couldn't believe that you were just fine last night, all smiling and beautiful, and now you laid in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while he had been away. You meant everything to him, and the thought of losing you was making him lose his sanity. He didn't know he loved you this much, that every second felt like eternity knowing he could lose you.
He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but his chest felt tight, and the air seemed to escape him. He could feel his temper rising, his frustration mounting with every passing moment. He pounded his fists on the armrest, feeling a surge of anger that he couldn't control. "Why did this have to happen?" he muttered to himself. "Why her? Why now?" The plane hit turbulence, and Henry jolted in his seat, the sudden movement breaking through his thoughts. He looked around, his eyes falling on the bottle and glass that lay on the table in front of him. Without thinking, he reached out and knocked them off the table, the sound of shattering glass filling the cabin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was no use. The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.
The flight attendant approached him, concerned etched on her face. "Sir, is everything okay?" she asked softly. He shook his head, unable to speak, and the flight attendant nodded sympathetically before walking away. He was afraid. Terribly scared to lose you. The words by his managers from before, finally echoed in his head. They mentioned you were in a critical condition, although they followed it up with a lot of hope, he couldn't shake away the sight of you, which made his fear grow stronger.
"God, please let her be okay," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I can't bear to see her like this." Finally his anger started to leave his body, replacing it with intense pain, guilt, fear, and hurt. He was alone with his thoughts, trapped in a prison of his own making. He couldn't escape the pain, no matter how hard he tried. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his own emotions, and the only way out of it, was to finally see you.
"I love you, princess" he whispered, the words barely audible over the roar of the plane's engines. "Please be okay." He said looking at the wallpaper of the two of you on his mobile, his throat tightening and choking with pain.
As the plane landed, Henry's heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel his anxiety and stress levels skyrocketing. His managers were already arranging for a safe passage through the airport, but as they stepped outside, a mob of fans surrounded him, all clamoring for his attention.
"Mr. Cavill, can we have a picture with you?"
"Please sign me an autograph, Henry!"
Henry tried to sign a few of them off politely, begging them to let him leave, but as he pushed through the crowd, he heard a fan talking about you. "I'm not (y/n), but I deserve some attention too!" His frustration boiled over, and he turned around, scolding her almost tearing up talking about you. "She's in the hospital fighting for her life, and all you care about is a damn autograph? Get some perspective woman!" Finally, he broke free from the crowd and drove towards the hospital. His heart sank as he saw the sign "Intensive Care Unit" in bold letters. He asked the receptionist for your whereabouts, and the receptionist recognized him immediately.
"Oh my god, you're Henry Cavill! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you at first. Follow me, Mr Cavill, I'll take you to her doctor." As they entered the doctor's cabin, Henry could feel his frustration, pain, and rage building up inside of him. The doctor gave him a somber look and spoke in a serious tone. "Mr. Cavill, I'm sorry to say that (y/n) has suffered severe head trauma, and the chances of her recovery are low. She is at a high risk of amnesia or worse, of slipping into coma. We are doing everything we can to keep her stable, but we need to prepare you for the worst." Henry felt like his world was crumbling around him. The doctor's words were like a punch in the gut, and he felt his eyes welling up with tears. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, losing the whole of his heart.
"Please, doctor, do everything in your power to save her. I can't lose her. I just can't." He spoke between tears trying to get the words out of his throat, although they came barely over a whisper. The doctor gave him a sympathetic look, knowing that there was only so much they could do. He was shattered into a million pieces, and he felt like he was drowning in his own pain and despair. All he could do was hold onto hope and pray for a miracle.
He sat in the waiting area, his eyes glued to the door of the ICU room. His mind is racing, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He has been waiting there for hours, hoping and praying that the doctors will give him some good news. Finally, the door opens, and the doctor steps out. Henry stands up, his fear plastered on his face as he approaches the doctor. "How is she?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion.
The doctor takes a deep breath and looks Henry in the eye. "She's stable," he says. "But she still hasn't regained consciousness. We're doing everything we can, but the next few hours are critical." He nods, he felt his heart sinking. He felt like he's been hit by a truck. He can't believe that this was happening. He's never felt so powerless in his life. All he can do is sit and wait and hope. He was finally here, but he still couldn't do anything to fix you, to save you, to protect you...
He had begged the doctor to let him see her but he refused. The doctor explained how they're still treating your wounds and he will be able to see you later today. He nodded and patiently, yet impatiently waited outside the ICU. Hours pass, and finally, the doctor comes back to him. "Although she's still unconscious, we have shifted her to a room, and you can go see her now." he says. His heart leaps into his throat as he follows the doctor into the room. He sees you lying there, pale and still, hooked up to all sorts of machines. His heart breaks at the sight.
He takes her hand in his, feeling the coldness of your skin. Tears well up in his eyes once again, as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Baby girl, I'm here," he says, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Please, come back to me. I need you." He said, finally breaking into a sob that he had been holding for hours.
He sits by your side, holding your hand and talking to you, telling you all the things he's been holding back for so long. He tells you how much he loves you, how he can't imagine his life without you, how he'll do anything to make you better. He tells you all the things he's sorry for, all the things he wishes he could have done differently. His trying his best to make you feel his presence and bring you to life again. He needed you to speak back to him. As he talks, tears roll down his cheeks, and he can feel the pain and sorrow inside him grow. He's never felt so vulnerable in his life, and he knows that if you won't make it, he'll never be the same again. He tries to shake these negative thoughts and for now, all he can do is hope and pray and be by your side, holding your hand.
Hours passed as he didn't realise and fell asleep, curled up in a chair beside your bed, holding your hand tightly. He was exhausted, emotionally drained, and his body ached from sitting in the same position for so long, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be there for you, to be the first thing you see when you wake up. As the night passed, he was into a deep slumber, but he was quickly awoken by a faint voice calling his name. He jerked upright, his heart pounding in his chest, as looked at you in shock. Yoy were awake.
"Baby?" he said, his voice choked with emotion. "Oh my God, you're awake. Are you okay? How do you feel?" He asked everything without a breath. He then immediately rang the bell to call the nurses and the doctor. "How is she now?" He asked impatiently to the doctor. "She's surprisingly much better Mr Cavill, looks like you were what she needed to heal." The doctor said finally leaving the two of you alone.
"How are you feeling princess? You scared me so much. I'm so glad you're okay. Fuck." He said with tears running down his face as he held her hand right continuously kissing your hand. You smiled weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel...okay. A little sore. But I'm glad to see you. I thought I'd never see you again" His eyes filled with tears as he leaned in and lifted you gently into his arms, holding you close to him. "Oh, baby don't say that. I would never let anything happen to you." he said, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here. I should have been there to protect you. I can't believe this happened." You stroked his cheek and smiled reassuringly. "It's not your fault, Henry. It was an accident. I'm just glad you're here now." He just held you like his life depended on it. You could feel how scared he was and how he was holding onto you like a little baby. You ran your hand gently through his hair and you can already feel yourself healing. He was your medicine. He was your relief. You couldn't imagine you were holding him after almost two months and now you didn't want to let go.
Henry took a deep breath and kissed your lips, feeling overwhelmed with relief and love. "I was so scared," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know what to do. I thought I was going to lose you." Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him. "You're not going to lose me," she said, your voice soft but firm. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Henry and you're stuck with me." You said giggling a little through your tears. His heart swelled with love and emotion as he looked down at you. "I love you so much more my princess. God I love you so much more..." he said, his voice thick with emotion. For a few moments, you just held each other, lost in your love and relief. You can feel how his heart has now picked a softer pace. He needed you as much as you needed him.
Later, he pulled back a little, looking at you with concern. "What happened?" he asked. "How did this happen?" You knew you were gonna get in trouble if you answered this. You just smiled weakly but he asked again as you sighed. "I remember losing control of the car...and then hitting the tree. After that, everything is a blur. But I'm okay now and so much better with you here." You said trying to glaze everything with hope and happiness, in hopes that he won't get mad at you. He hated your age old secondhand car and had strictly asked you to take the new ones he has parked up for you. He even offered to drive his Aston Martin around. But you loved this car, it was the first thing you bought with your own money. Although he was right, this car had served you enough, and now just something you should be keeping for sentimental value.
He looked at you with narrowed eyes. "How many times have I asked you to stay away from this junk? What if I had lost you today? Hun?" He snapped. He was now angry but you expected this. He was worried for you and he was right, this car almost took your life today. "I'm sorry Henry. I won't do it again" You say politely pulling him in a hug as he immediately melts down and nuzzles his head in your hair. "I know baby, I'm sorry to get mad at you, but I almost thought I lost you today. I was so scared, and I have told you so many times to dump that car. I just.. I wanted to save your from exactly this." He said softly now gently rubbing your back and kissing your head and shoulders. "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I won't do it again. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you." You say stroking his cheek and leaning in to kiss him.
You were kissing him after two months and it felt like tasting heaven. He was your medicine. His words, his touch, his kisses, everything healed you. He healed you and you wanted nothing more. Henry smiled through the kiss and hugged you tightly, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. "I love you too, my princess," he said. "I love you more than anything. And I'm never going to let anything happen to you again."
____
A/N: Please send in your fic requests! Asks Open!
#domhenrycavill#henry cavil x y/n#henry cavill#henry cavill one shot#henry+cavill+fluff#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill x female ofc#henry cavill x short!reader#henry+cavill+smut#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill angst#henry cavill smut#lovinghenrycavill#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill+fluff#henry Cavill+ angst
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I have not been so disappointed by an episode 11 in ages. Because Last Twilight was a show I loved. I adored the characters, the growth, the relationship, the growing communication, everything. They weren't perfect but things were coming together and we were seeing external issues and, sure, Mhok's grief was being neglected but the show was focusing heavily on Day and his journey with his sight and I can deal with that.
But this?
This episode 11?
The one where Mhok finally admits he's carrying a lot of grief and guilt and blame on his shoulders and that it makes him worry for the people he loves and leaves him feeling like he should take responsibility and care for them because he literally lost his sister to suicide after not answering his phone call and is met with Day twisting that into pity and a reason to break up with him? The part where this supposedly loving relationship where Mhok has again and again shown Day how to be independent and supported him in learning his new life and has been at his side including literally sneaking him out of the city ends with Day breaking up with Mhok for struggling with feelings of guilt over grief?
An episode that literally starts with Day begging Mhok not to leave, to stay at his side, and ends with Day sending Mhok away to cry outside, alone, without any consideration for the fact that he genuinely admitted to his own struggles for the first time ever?
An episode that ends with a preview that shows Day adjusting happily to his new life surrounded by love and Mhok alone and dark and dismal and miserable because apparently Mhok is the one to suffer and now Day is just going to do better?
An episode where Day's mom started out telling Mhok she was 'just a mom with a disabled son looking for someone to take care of him entirely' and ends with her declaring that Day can totally take care of himself and Mhok is the one with the problem with that?
How the fuck did this show destroy over 10 episodes of confidence in the characters and trust in Aof as a director in under 10 minutes? How and why?! What even happened? Why is this the penultimate episode and how is this what we built up this whole time?
To Day refusing to do any emotional labor for Mhok? To Day deciding that if Mhok wasn't willing to literally live a world away from him after very traumatically losing his sister to suicide that meant he pitied him and couldn't possibly love him? To Day sending Mhok away knowing he'll be alone after he literally bears his soul to him desperately trying to explain his love?
This is what we built to? This is the conflict the show thought was going to make us want to come back?
How are they going to fix this? How can the next episode possibly make this pain feel worthwhile or make it feel like Day can support Mhok? Or are we supposed to take away a different message from this that I don't understand?
I am so, so frustrated because the show was so good and now it feels like it was all a waste, like the rest of the show that was leading us here was lying to us.
Why did we have the big speech at Aon's wedding about supporting each other if the first time Mhok needed support from Day he was met with being dumped?
#last twilight#last twilight meta#last twilight the series#last twilight series#thai bl#bl drama#thai series#thai drama#asian lgbtq dramas#thai bl series#thai bl drama#asianlgbtqdramas#bl series#thaibl#gmmtv#gmmtv series#gmmtv bl
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⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆
DAY FOUR: christian bale x f!reader
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• summary: it is the third movie you and chris playing together in, and it is last time he can hide his love for you. | wc: 1.5k | tags&warnings: fluff, kissing, confessing, touching, gentle!bale, reader is kind of a brat, co-workers, friends to lovers, young-adult!bale, mentions of a little nsfw content, short. [also, so so sorry for waiting for the ‘week’ thing but I had three important tests to take and I had to study :/ but now, I have no test left so, I’m back and the other works will be on soon! Enjoy. ^^]
“Isn’t it amazing that we can work together once again?” You ask, not trying to get an answer but just pointing the fact you think of while waiting for the next scene to be filmed. Chris only nods, something isn’t right with him but you guess it is because he has a remarkable role in the movie, requiring great deal of attention and focus, and you know very well how he wants to show his best every time. You admire his hard-working. He is like a model for you – also, a dear friend.
Maybe you want to become more than a dear friend but you are afraid how he will react, so, you let it go, only focusing on the friendship you two have – a beautiful friendship; he loves making you happy, you like seeing him in peace thanks to your presence, support and fun kisses on the cheeks. You think whether it makes him feel awkward with these kisses even though he never complains. It is just a thing you both share like the sharing of food, memories, smiles, cries and even the bed –in the nights – and sometimes daylights too – when the air fills up with sadness, happiness, exciting – oh, you think inside, maybe we share a lot.
“Hey,” You hear his voice. Coming to your senses – back to reality, you wink a few times, looking up to see Bale kneeling to the front, his gazes on your face, wondering what make you daydream for a moment. “Are you okay?” He asks and you can see concern in his face expression, making you want to just grip his cheeks, caress them and saying how much you realize you love him, especially after the memories you share with him come to your mind. However, you can’t. So, with a sad smile on your face, you nod, not caring whether he can tell the truth behind your smile.
Putting a childish kiss on his nose, you say, “Better than okay!”
The moment he is about to ask another question, his personal assistant comes, saying that the screen is about to start to both of you. Nodding to her, you get up as Bale straightens his posture, hands on his pockets.
Hugging him from the arm, you giggle with excitement. Pulling him with you, you say, “I am so excited! In this scene, I will throw a glass to you.”
“I didn’t think you like violence.” He remarks, one of his hand positions on yours – a true gentleman who makes your heart go weak in a second.
“I am not,” Turning to him, to tease, you chuckle. “Well, if it is outside the bed.”
He stops in his track for a moment before coughing in fake, staring to walk again. As you look at his side profile – a perfect sight to see with his sharp jaw, freshly trimmed beard, short hair – you wait him to be shy like always because being such a brat, you like to make him shy and blushing but not today, apparently, not today. He smirks instead of showing any sight of shyness, telling you to be more sensible – he just smirks, turning to your face, making you look at another way to hide your heat rushing to your face. Kneeling, his hot breaths find your ear, whispering dangerously, “What a nasty girl!” He chuckles lowly – you are already weak on the knees. “Maybe you just need a good lesson to understand why you shouldn’t talk in public so openly like this.”
When the director calls for him from the other side of the room, he is about to touch your chin. Nodding to himself, he lets you go after saying, “Don’t worry, I will teach it properly this time.”
You feel like he is finally let his inner voice to take actions instead of his logical side. You chuckle, taking your place on the room, still feeling drunk, and avoiding gazes from Bale. He is sure something else today.
•
“Then, he was right behind me! Can you imagine?” One of my co-workers says with a chuckle, playing with her hair, and telling a story about the director. Chuckling, I nod to her.
After the end of today’s scenes, everybody agreed on taking a break time, having a little fun in one of actors’ house. So, here you are, standing beside the window, a drink on your hand, a black dress covers your body. It was a choice of your personal assistant after she found out that you liked Bale and he was going to attend as well. She said how you looked gorgeous in the dress, getting you all blushing, thinking how Bale would react.
This thought on your mind, you turn to other side of the room, trying to find where Bale is right now in a crowded place like this one is but when you are about to give up, you see him; he looks so humble and gentle with the black suit on him while entering the room. You look at him from head to toe, no shame behind your gazes but you don’t care, not when his gazes find yours, only focusing on you and making his way to you slowly. You nearly become breathless at the sight. Feeling brave enough to make an attempt like he is doing, you turn and say your co-worker goodbye, approaching to Bale faster than he does.
Finally, meeting in the middle, you say after an awkward long silence in which you look into his beautiful eyes and he does the same for you, “Hi.”
He chuckles in a low tone, “Hi,” He takes your hand in his, putting a kiss on the head of it. You would hate it when other men do it but when he does it – oh, how it feels so right and magical when he does it. “Gorgeous.”
Smiling widely, you roll your eyes, taking back your hand from his slowly only to put it on his shoulder, making him tense but you get it is a good sign since his smile grow bigger, closing the gap between your bodies further, causing you to forget what you would say for a moment. He smells so good – he looks so good – everything about him is near to perfection.
“Don’t look too much or you will fall hard for me.” You tease him, winking and when you take a sip from your drink, you feel his one hand find your waist, pulling you closer until his lips touching your ear, hot breaths hitting your neck. Heat rising inside of your body as well as outside and you only stare at his beautiful blue eyes.
“You should warm me sooner,” He smirks, not a playboy type of smirk – just, showing how he knows his effects on you now. “I already have fallen for you – hard.”
“Chris –“ You try to say, try to comprehend what he really means by that. “So, you say –“ You can’t find yourself powerful enough to say it aloud but Chris is there for you. He knows you better than you know yourself.
So, when he takes your hand on his, not caring about other people on the room, you follow him because you always will follow him no matter what.
Entering in an empty room, he reaches to his balcony, still holding your hand – tighter than before, giving you goosebumps. He turns around to see you clearly under the light of the moon and garden’s white lights.
“Yes, I say it.” He says, and you trying to make his words since your mind is overflowed by the sudden emotions he is causing.
“What?” You ask once more, wanting to hear it aloud – wanting him to admit it while using his words.
He chuckles once more – oh, he is surely happy right now and you are the same. Putting both of his on your waist, he pulls you to himself, making his chest hitting yours. “I love you,” He says and you believe you would fall into the ground if he didn’t hold you like this. He takes your hand, putting it on his chest where his heart remains. “I love you so deeply that I can no longer hide it.”
Taking deep breaths, you firstly understand his words – already having effects on you; chest rising and falling, hands getting sweaty and face has a stupid smile on – then, you close your eyes, and open them only to see that he is real. This make him smile, shaking his head. “I am real.”
“But, I need to do something to believe it, Chris.” You say.
His one eyebrow rises and you take action without waiting for him to speak; your lips find his, his taste flows into yours, a hand on his collar to pull him closer and other one enters into his short hair. He, on the other hand, nearly moans lowly into the kiss you share right now, hands on your waist getting tighter, hugging you strongly.
You know from this day everything will change between you – the relationship you have but you have no fear, not when he kisses you so deeply, passionately and holding you close. You wonder how he both is your weakness and strength. However, your mind can’t make any judgement since it only focuses on him – breaking the kiss for a moment before he adds, “I love you.” once again and you giggle.
“I love you too handsome.”
The end. 💌
#christian bale#bale#christian bale x reader#christian bale x f!reader#dc#dc comics#celebs#week#week of celebs#masterlist#batman#the dark knight#y/n#christian bale x y/n#written by me#vom#<3#rose
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Taken pt. 7
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
a/n: we’re halfway through!! I’m sorry this part is shorter, but things are about to pick up!
warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.
You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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“What do you want me to do”
Morozov grins, pulls a paper out of a manila folder next to his laptop, and slides it across the table to you.
“This list contains the names of people who are keeping HYDRA from its full potential.
“Eliminate them.”
You cautiously pick up the paper Morozov slides to you, letting your eyes wander meticulously over the list of names presented. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you read.
John Atkins, President of the United States of America
Elizabeth Fitzgerald, U.S. Secretary of Defense
Antonio Smith, U.S. Director of Homeland Security
Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD
Phil Coulson, SHIELD
Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, Avenger
Your head begins to ache as you try to comprehend the names in front of you—the targets you’ve been given.
“You’re insane if you think I’m going to kill these people for you,” you say, bringing your attention back to the monster sat in front of you.
Morozov sighs dramatically.
“Again, Mrs. Barnes, I remind you HYDRA has eyes on your family. Each of our undercover operatives are trained snipers and combatants. Do you really think I’m bluffing when I say I’ll have your daughter killed? Your husband? Your friends?”
You purse your lips tightly.
“The names on that list belong to the people who consistently prevent HYDRA from realizing its mission. If I am to accomplish what our forefathers couldn’t, I need to eliminate any potential threats.”
“And what are you trying to accomplish?” You ask petulantly.
Morozov stands, letting his hands rest clasped together behind his back.
“I thought you’d never ask!” He sings out. “You see, eons ago, the ancient inhumans banished the all powerful inhuman HIVE to the planet Maveth. HYDRA has lost its way over the years, but our purpose is to bring HIVE back to Earth so that he may purify it.”
You scoff and Morozov glares at you.
“Steve Rogers, SHIELD, and the American government have foiled HYDRA’s attempts to bring HIVE back to Earth too many times. The HYDRA leaders who’ve come before me didn’t have the gall to eliminate such prominent leaders. That’s why I will be the one to bring HIVE home!”
“I reiterate, you’re insane,” you spit. You can hear the venom in your own voice.
“I reiterate,” Morozov mocks, “I will have everyone you love killed.”
Morozov presses a key on the laptop and a camera switches to whom you assume is one of the undercover HYDRA agents at the Compound. Morozov hits another button and speaks.
“Agent 0412, go to standby.”
You watch as the agent nods subtly before pulling out a gun, turning off the safety, and walking towards the Avengers living quarters. You suck in a breath. While you’ve been acutely aware that Morozov isn’t joking around, you hadn’t quite felt the weight of your own choices until this moment. You note that every choice you make will directly impact the next choice Morozov makes.
“Fine,” you concede. “Call him off and I’ll do it.”
Morozov grins before calling off the guard.
—
You’re sitting on a jet heading back towards the states. You wish you were headed home, but you choose to take some comfort in the fact that you’re at least leaving Siberia.
You check your gear, taking inventory of each gun and knife you have hidden in your suit and strapped to your body. Then, when you’re comfortable enough with your gear, you pull out a crumpled piece of paper that has the names of Morozov’s targets. You’ve chosen to move down the list so that you’ll start with President Atkins and end with Steve. You only hope you manage to break free from HYDRA before you actually have to kill anyone.
“Agent Barnes,” a gruff voice states, and you look up to meet the burly man speaking.
Ever since you formerly agreed to Morozov’s conditions of your family’s safety, you’d been treated more fairly and addressed more respectfully.
“Hmm?” You hum, having taken to speaking as little as possible.
“Hold out your arm, please,” the man says as he comes to kneel beside you where you’re sat. It’s then that you notice the metal case he holds.
Cautiously, you hold out your arm, and you watch as he pulls a large syringe out of the case. The man picks up a small device and loads it into the syringe. He then rolls up your tac suit sleeve and injects the device into your arm. You grimace. It hurts going in, and you can see a bulge in your arm.
“The fuck was that?” You ask incredulously.
“Your tracker,” the man responds dryly. “Dr. Frost asked me to remind you that you’ve nowhere to run. One move in the wrong direction and he orders the kill shot on your family.”
With that, the man leaves and you sit in silence for the rest of your flight towards DC.
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ko-fi
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Tags: @just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#marvel x reader#bucky x you#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky x fem!reader#bucky barnes angst#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fic#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader angst#bucky barnes x reader angst
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WAD reflection from the perspective of a theatre director
Inspired by @/calvinahobbes who did an amazing job breaking down the show’s metaphors & using her English degree in this post, I wanted to share my perspective on it (even a month later) & get use out of my theatre degree lol. Also, warning, this will be very much a long, long essay with run-ons. I have ADHD & I love when my frequent hyperfixations intersect 🤪 There are major spoilers.
My Background:
I am a semi-professional theatre director, but more broadly, a theatremaker. I have a theatre degree from New York University’s Tisch School on the Arts (NYU Tisch), where I did a conservatory program with one of their studios which focused basically on those who wanted to do a little bit of everything and create new works & was the only studio training directors & playwrights. I originally went into the program as a performer. I did not mean to end up concentrating on being mainly a producer & a director, but that’s a whole other story. I also through that program had to take theatre/performance studies courses, which I loved for the most part & is an interesting interdisciplinary field. But I will try to define terms just in case since anybody reading this may not know any or all the specific terminology I might use. In short, I have a fancy degree that apparently should cost $300k 🤡 & I’m gonna actually use it with doing this lol
--
Setting the Tone:
While Dan might call this a comedy special or comedy show, and thereby comparing it to other comedians, I actually think he is doing himself and We’re All Doomed (WAD) a disservice. I saw folks compare him a lot to Bo Burnham in the chat (who was actually was accepted and almost went to NYU Tisch for a different studio that focused on solely experimental work), which makes sense considering the theatrical nature of both of them. However, Dan actually goes further into the realm of theatre because of how he utilizes his crowd work (I’ll go into that later). I recognize traditional comedy specials/standup as having jokes or stories, when doing you know like late night talk show interviews, that can be made outside of the context of the show & slip into a conversation. Or with Burnham’s Inside Out, the songs & other parts can be done or understood mainly out of context, as seen through Bo uploading them to his YouTube channel. Comedy specials have the sections of their comedy stand-up thread together, but what Dan has done is weave his sections together. The length along with the intermission/interval being a part of WAD, adds to my point that he is not treating this as different material he tested out at different comedy clubs, but as something cohesive storytelling pieces. I think in terms of testing, Phil was the main sufferer audience member of the initial materials being created.
Anyway, you cannot as easily remove it from the context at certain points, because the transitions & the order of these different sections are treated as equally important, rather than a means to move on to the next section, with some possible space for improv.
Basically, I’m bi. Sorry, my brain started thinking about BIG when I started writing “basically” at the start of that sentence. Actually, what I am trying to say is that I would classify We’re All Doomed as a one-man performance piece/show, so I will be treating it as such in my review/reflection/breakdown. The comedy of it is important and there, but I don’t think it captures what WAD entirely is.
Also, unfortunately due to where I was at mentally at the time & the location it was being performed at, I never saw this live. To be honest, how it got framed marketing-wise did not help me feel connected with the actual purpose of the show, with hope being a key element. So while this was filmed, I am as much as possible trying to remove the cinematography as an element of my analysis. However, some things might be clearer on film, as with theatrical directing, you cannot add a zoom or crop & instead are trying to ensure moments are clear to an audience by what they see and hear through drawing their attention to it. With theatre being mainly about the live output by performers and intake by the audience, at the end of the day, what my job as a director is is to direct not only how the performers share the story, but also direct the audience on what is important to catch for understanding.
--
Breakdown of Thoughts
Originally, I wanted to rewatch the show again, and started to, but considering I ended up writing about a whole page worth of things for each minute of the show & I was sleepy by the time I was like 5-10 minutes in, I decided to be nice to myself & stay up all night in my comfortable bed instead of staying up all night at my desk trying to take in-depth notes 🙃
I’m gonna breakdown this analysis/reflection into further sections, just to give myself some anchors & break up the blocks of text. Also as a way to just be that pretentious, maybe with an academic flair, as is fitting to be for something about Dan Howell (said affectionately 💕)
The Script/Writing
When considering the text of the show itself, two things came to mind for me:
(1) This is definitely what I would call intertext. Intertext is a piece of writing that relates to another or more other writings through allusions. WAD is an intertext which alludes mainly to other works of Dan’s on his YouTube channel. The ability to get the true impact of the show relies on you knowing Dan (as his internet persona) on some level. And as a theatre maker & longtime fan, I love that it is, it’s what the piece needed to be. As a theatre producer, the hiatus from engaging with his audience and the limited runway given to reactivate interest in him and his creative work I think made it difficult to get that audience in some venues, along with some other funkiness (mainly with promo) I am less knowledgeable on. But I think Dan has already learned/continues to learn from that, which I think may have been valuable for him. (sidenote: I need the tea on all that because I love knowing how presenting venues work with performers, as well as the lack of understanding they have of internet culture as it relates to venue leadership.)
(2) This was a work he made for himself. He mentions this both in the show & in reference to WAD multiple times. But I think what truly came to mind for me was that it is still powerful for him to write for himself. He is writing for what he needs to be hearing or wants to be processing creatively.
I think why it is powerful is that Dan has discussed before how much stress he put on himself regarding danisnotonfire, and later Daniel Howell, videos, focusing on the audience, and how he was presenting a specific style/quality of video to them. Add in the layer of being closeted & actively fighting internalized homophobia, and the anxiety he built up makes sense. And I might personally attribute that more to his need to pass as straight & catering I believe at one point to an audience of cishet men, whether actual or perceived by him. Not all videos, especially the most impactful ones in my opinion, rely on this, but it was a key piece of what he made during his rise in popularity on the platform. This catering slowly decreased with the amount of uploads he was doing, along with a more tangible understanding of his audience thanks to the tours he did with Phil. Basically I’m Gay I think was the true shift where he gave himself permission to write work that had a main audience of himself. That’s where his best work has come from, and I think since then, he’s been able to have the space to process things creatively through his writing.
--
The Relationship Between Performer & Audience
When I was in theatre school, my directing teacher would constantly talk about not just considering the relationship of the performers on “stage” (I did a lot of more immersive work & we only had black box theatres, which is literally a room that is floor to ceiling black) but also the relationship of the performers & the story with the audience. By Dan knowing mainly who his audience would be, the show can now play with that understanding in mind.
This leads to my point that, overall, Dan does not use the fourth wall, and I think that is what makes We’re All Doomed work. It may also be why he called it a comedy show, idk.
For those who don’t know what the fourth wall is, it is a term from theatre originally that is about the way in which a traditional theatre stage (called a proscenium) has three physical walls around it, while there is no 4th physical wall, so the audience can see the performance. If does exist physically, it is only the curtain that acts as the 4th “wall”. So, in order to keep it as a separation between the performers and the audience, the actors treat the side where the audience is as a fourth wall. When someone breaks the 4th wall, this is when they speak to audience directly, rather than to another character. Examples from English-speaking pop culture would be the asides from Hamlet or Ferris Bueller in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But when you are the only person on stage, the only way to have a fourth wall is when you don’t reference that you know there’s an audience there. Hence, a monologue where the character is talking to themselves or an entity that is not the audience directly (or assigned to be the audience by the director), it is the closest you can have a fourth wall when alone.
Dan in his videos and in his previous tours with Phil never were without direct engagement of the audience (obvious with the naming of Interactive Introverts). It was never not a variation on him speaking with the audience in any type of dialogue, even if done parasocially.
Some of that is not new to theatre, but I would say is that it has become more of a trend within new theatre starting in the early 2010s to have more interactivity and a more authentic, explicit message that no performance will be the exact same. I definitely saw that in the shows I saw both Off-Broadway (which sidenote, all that means is that there’s fewer seats in that theatre, not about quality of the work or how worth it is to engage with) and larger settings like Broadway and the West End. That’s what I love about theatre, and why my own work is more about immersion and direct audience engagement.
Now Dan’s creative works have never been skit only or interested in telling a story outside of the realm of connecting with an audience as a variation of himself, so again, him not using the fourth wall overall is appropriate and fits in with what I mentioned about intertext. The piece does however start with a fourth wall for the music number, which I will walk through fully sharing why I am saying that about the song & dance opening after establishing some other concepts to help build understanding.
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Design Can Work With You or Against You
I just want to say out the gate that the design was done really well, and I immediately felt a need to emphasize it after watching the first 10 minutes again.
First, let’s talk about the orange & black aesthetic of the show. Dan may have simply said that the orange just looked cool, but I think I would attribute more meaning to that color. Orange brings to my mind at first instance both a bright happiness/warmth and a sense of caution and warning, like road signs (at least those in America). The themes of the show reflect these two ideas and plays with the tension between them. I don’t know if he or the team meant to have that be a conscious choice, but there’s a joke I’ve had with other directors of when they get complimented on something unexpected, they just nod and say “yes, that was a choice”, even though it was just a random thing that happened or was something that you just thought would be cool to do. Orange runs through the show’s designs and it becomes clear that it is a tool for contrast and emphasis for the points Dan & the director want to make.
Now with the design team of costumes, lights, sound, and media, I can see a clear cohesion. Good theatrical design has the designs act as a character or highlighter in the story. Bad theatrical design can take away/distract from the core intensions of the show. It was so clear to me that the design was a character. And seeing that there were two media designers make complete sense considering the labor lift of both creating the projections displayed, but also creating/filming pieces of the media itself. The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. For costumes, I think Calvina did well in her post at articulating the elements of the costume and the progression it goes throughout the show. I’d rather not take up space to say the same thing truthfully.
With all the design elements, I think three characters could be defined (not including the audience), two as main characters, and one as a supporting character. I would name the main characters as “the Circle” (the looming set piece throughout hosting the projections used throughout) and “Dan On Stage/Dan performing” (the one in the physical space) with the “voiceover Dan/inner voice Dan” as a supporting character. The voiceover only exists in the beginning, and it is only shared with us to demonstrate the way in which the Dan On Stage singing is not really that aggressively optimistic and wholeheartedly believes the words he is singing. He is not the Dan we know from the Internet, so we can cathartically laugh at the attempt to pretend everything is fine. The voiceover only has one role, and it is to force Dan to confront this breakdown has an audience.
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Staging an Opening Sequence: Our First Stage Character is the Circle
In directing classes, often what you focus on is called stage pictures, which is meant to help you consider what the actual imagery you want to ensure the audience absorbs for their understanding of the piece. The first and last stage moment of each act should tell a basic story of what happened, and therefore, are heavily emphasized as important for directors. The Circle (capitalized for reference purposes) being lit up before the show starts and then again in conjunction with the light flashes and sound establishes the importance of the Circle to the show. When the projection comes into play, showing the speech of a 15-year-old Greta Thunberg before beginning to add more, we are then introduced to the purpose of the Circle to be an output/portal for the overstimulation of messages, in this case, I would claim it being what comes from the Internet.
The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. The Circle also through some of the lighting moments, mimic that of a clock, which again adds to the doomsday, the "end is near" type energy. To have the end of the opening sequence build to an explosion which then shows solid orange at the end while Dan is in silhouette begins the introduction to the orange emphasis & proposes a sort of prophet-like version of him after the apocalyptic imagery disappears as he rises to be seen. What we have opened with is setting the tone to how we should view these two characters of the Circle & the Dan on Stage.
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Song Time!
Dan is such a theatre kid & I love that for him. His dramatic side shows through the moment he used a rise to start his show at the top of the stairs, first in a place of seriousness with the sharp lighting and smoke to then bring in a very happy music number. The contrast & switching of expectations is a key of comedic works, and shows through most of the phandom who did not know WAD started with that, as it is indeed funnier if it comes as a shock. The movement & music mimic what folks attribute to as musical theatre, which is campy, happy singing. Knowing he was the one who suggested the song for TATINOF, I am loving Dan clearly wanting to have that opening number of a musical moment, even if it is dripping in irony. The Circle & the lights in this acts as a supporter to the message of it being sunshine and rainbows, with literal rainbow lights included. (Sidenote: I am 99% sure the pigeon coo is Phil, so if anything, I’m disappointed he was not credited as Pigeon sound effect AND remote crisis manager. Idk why I could tell, but both times now, it’s what I immediately thought when hearing that part)
I think of the musical number as the only place where he does have a fourth wall, because the number does not directly reference the audience at the start. It’s a one-man moment and it is about the performance not the audience engagement. It starts falling away when he starts pointing out the “and you”s, but the voiceover is the real break in our understanding of the world. It is emphasized by the color inversion of the sun & sky media of the Circle. The director is saying, this is important to how you now interpret what you’ve seen & will see, this is another shift from what was established of this world.
I should mention “world” is the terminology used to name what the environment the story is being told in with consideration, especially in theatre, of how much of a need there is for suspension of disbelief. I believe this term is also referenced a lot when discussing the fantasy and sci-fi genres, since those also requires some distancing from reality for the audience. This ties into a phrase I will probably end up using a lot of “rules of the space”. When establishing this world for the show you are presenting to an audience, there is a type of logic that must be established in order to understand what is the baseline for what the audience will be engaging with over the span of the show. But the voiceover immediately changes the rules of the space, because it messes with the Dan on stage, and messes with the messaging of the Circle. It adds a new context to the Dan On Stage, as while a fan will know that this song is not in alignment of our knowledge of Dan Howell, we get confirmation that this indeed ironic and outside of the branding that Dan has boxed himself into over his time on YouTube.
But the voiceover is also not in alignment with that “branding”. It expresses concerns related to the Dan On Stage’s mental wellbeing. There is no irony or subtext in that voice, it is the most direct in speaking to Dan On Stage, because it is being said by a variation of Dan in voiceover to himself. These could be seen as questions he knows to ask himself, but as someone who advocates for mental health & shares now about being openly gay, I interpret that he may feel he cannot express that outside of his mind for fear of undermining his advocacy points. The discussion of the “wonders” of the Internet also continue building in the tension that exists throughout WAD of how Dan feels about that space. The voiceover then proposes at first a type of equal extreme, which only sees the Doom, and as someone with clinical Depression myself, I think is only a furtherance of the breakdown, rather than the reality check it started off being. Not that what is listed is wrong by any means, but the barrage of it is meant to expand the drowning feeling, not act as call to action or consideration of the intricacies for engaging in the world. With the Circle’s sun imagery & the music having been inverted and shifted to something more sinister, Dan’s movement up the stairs fits a type of circular moment from the first entry of him, where the image of the prophetic figure is questioned on how he alone will solve the climate emergency. The slap & break of character for the Dan on Stage serves to confirm our understanding of the voiceover as the voice in Dan’s head & indeed there are not two Dans.
Also, the sparklers 🎇 showing up really make the key change for the song, but my producer brain is going, “girl, of course you lost money on this show, was that so VERY NECESSARY?” But the dramatic Gemini theatre bitch in me would 100% want this too. I just don’t have a capita£ester working to get sponsorship money in my life, so I have to be reasonable 😔 Also, the confetti with the high note is peak theatre gay so I again, love that for him. And of course, the confetti is orange.
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Hints of Orange
When the song reaches its end & the Circle starts showing squares of orange, rather than a full background, this acts as a seed for the breakdown and waterfall of cubes, which Calvina speaks to the orange cube hint at the beginning in her post. The sudden cut-out with Dan simply lit replicates a moment the Circle is not present. The Internet is not present. To crawl to a microphone, the message is not “hey this guy needs two mics”, because we see one on his face, but that the wired mic (which I will now label as “The Microphone”) is a metaphor. It’s a crawl towards sharing out, not suppression. Only when the voiceover of himself points out the audience does he does a full fourth wall break. The suppression did not work, and neither he nor the audience can believe that it was the Truth.
The wire of the Microphone being orange showcases that it was meant to be seen. I don’t think it even in play in terms of the sound, like it might not even be on, considering the feedback nightmare it would likely cause. And no standard microphone used on stages has orange wires, because that would pull the audience’s eyes to it. But that’s the point here.
The rules of the space are now this: the Circle is not always active, the Microphone has significance, the Dan On Stage knows there is an audience. None of these were true before, even the Circle was on before the start. This draws the audience to know there has been a shift & to have the first words said into the Microphone be “We’re All Doomed” solidifies the song moment was a blip, that this is really where we start at. As an example, in the social media section, Dan does a deliberate wrapping of the wire on his hand at the same time the Circle scrolls to the social media icon. It is how the director & Dan are ensuring that we understand “what he is saying and what is been shown on the screen are in tandem”, so if you’re paying attention to that wire, it signals you should look up too.
Every other prop, except I believe the gavel and wig, is also orange. The bubble gun is mainly what comes to mind for me, since the cubes are not as activated as props necessarily. But if an item is to enter the stage, what I interpret it as is that it must be orange, there must be high contrast, nothing in the physical world on the stage can become blurred, only screens have that privilege(?) to have things blend together.
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The Power Struggle Between Dan & the Circle
Once Dan has begun directly conversing with the audience, the rules of the space are:
(1) Dan On Stage acts, the design elements react (not including the Circle)
(2) The Circle and Dan have a symbiotic relationship, as neither have complete control over the other & react to what each other are doing
(3) The icons are our guides in understanding the sectioning done throughout the show
(4) Having “One Good Night” is the goal to reach at the end of the piece
As a person, as well as discussed throughout the show, we know that Dan has a contentious relationship with the Internet. It is what has given him his living but has also caused some of his worst moments mentally (2012? I don’t know her). It is the space in which lets him have an audience who have mainly showed him support, but also the space that has fed the cynicism that fuels his clinical depression. There lies in the way in which the Circle exists on the stage & looms over Dan in the background. It’s a necessary evil of what appears on the screen.
Why do I then say that the design elements are reacting? Well, if we remove the Circle from the equation, the lights, sounds effects, and props are all cued off of something Dan does like the clown honk. However, the Circle sometimes cues off what Dan does, but sometimes instigates what Dan speaks to. That especially is evident when video clips play that invoke what media Dan has been contending with on the Internet and the consequences of those things.
The Circle exists throughout both Act One & Act Two, but only becomes passive to the piece when Dan directly shows vulnerability & the removal of protective irony. Calvina spoke to this when discussing the costume choice of him opening the jumpsuit in Act Two to show the orange tank underneath.
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Cubes as Articulators
Oh Creator did I have to dig deep into my brain for this term of articulators. So my directing instructor had some key terms that I think I don’t think are universally used, even by American theatre directors or at least in academic settings. She defined articulators to basically be elements that helped give almost like checkpoints for the progression of a throughline in a show. For WAD, that is easily those orange cubes.
When static is displayed on the Circle’s screen each time we transition to a new section, it is not the typical emulation of TV static, it is that sea of orange squares. It is an articulation of those fear, issues, concerns, all those pinpoints Dan speaks to why he says “We’re All Doomed”.
That’s why there is the culmination of the orange cubes falling on him, when he reaches the top of the stairs at the end of Act One. When he circles back to the same stage picture of him at the top, it can been considered a repetition of the prophetic imagery I pointed out from the opening sequence. What changes is that the orange squares enter the physical world, falling onto Dan. He can no longer say they live in his head. They are here and stay in the space until the end of the show. In Act One, they are the looming issues that signal the Apocalypse. In Act Two, they are the rubble that must be sorted through.
Calvina was the one who named it rubble and the cubes as representations of Dan’s problems. To have the audience actually able to take a cube home, she argued, would be symbolic of the audience helping carry that weight. While I’d love that, I mentioned in my tags on her post that I think mentally, that rubble would still be at his feet, even with taking home that visual metaphor. This is Dan we’re talking about, and with personal responsibility being a topic of the show, while it’s not his burden to bear alone, he does have to recognize it exists.
I think the repetition of the prophetic imagery comes to its climax when in the aftermath found in Act 2, voting who to fire into space can and does end up with him being sent by the audience. It represents an understanding of where he exists now from where he did at 18 in terms of social, political, and economic access and the possibilities of his influence. There is a responsibility there that ties to how he can move in the world now publicly, so why wouldn’t he have an existential crisis?
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It is a Comedy Though, Right?
This is hundred percent comedy, and obvious dark humor at that. As a director, I love comedy, especially this type, because when an audience gets to laugh, the armor gets stripped away. They have no built-up resistance that let’s any uncomfortable point be heard effectively. It’s why the end’s vulnerability is effective, because we have already joked and laughed about our pains and our desire for escapism. Now we are able to move on into a place of reflection.
To underline why I say this is not stand-up comedy is that Dan has made it a stage show, just one that has comedy as a vehicle for telling this “story”. His interactions with his audience, through both quips based on audience reactions or “heckling” as well as explicitly asking for input into who to shot to space or what to add as a mad lib (generic brand for law purposes), are about being blended into the loose narrative constructed already, not actually to be reactionary like most crowd work I associate with stand-up comedy.
If anything, I could argue that it could be considered a comedy special that “Dan On Stage” is trying to make, but there is actually conflict being introduced that disrupts his set (both the comedy one and the physical one). There is clearly a showing of meta, as Dan makes sure to share thoughts on the creation of the show, the reactions from his overall show branding & imagery, the use of the lift because it was expensive to have. Dan’s comedy style can never be told without reference to behind the scenes, because if this is a creative means to process feelings, there are things about the show & its making that impact what needs to be processed too. It is also related to how his work is strengthened by acknowledging the two-way street of being in a parasocial relationship with his audience.
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Can We Have One Good Night?
Another term central to what my directing teacher spoke of was the “Core”, usually a question, though not always, that motivated what was being explored over the course of a theatre piece. At the top, as Dan on Stage exaggerates that love doesn’t exist (which Dan refutes as being an actual belief of his during the afterparty) and other sardonic phrases, he also states he wants to give his audience one good night, because he recognizes the escapism his audience finds in his solo and joint content. We’re All Doomed’s Core is “can we just have one good night, even in the midst of the horrors we have outside of these theatre doors?”. But I would also say that in terms of where his writing was at the time of WAD’s inception and the naming of his mental health book as You Will Get Through This Night, it feels more like Dan himself has been grappling with a Core of “can I have one good night? Or a full 24 hours where I feel mainly happy when all I am bombarded with about the world is suffering?” I think night can be both literal, since we know he has had sleep issues, and metaphorical, as the night can represent this depressive episode he was writing himself out of.
When the mood tracker gets discussed in the last portion of WAD, to see a sea of neutral or uninterested emojis demonstrates when he took the time to do it, the answer that night was “no, not really” 😕. The main one mentioned is the ritual of “Fry Day” he has with Phil (sidenote: why are these British men not calling it “Chip Day”, since this ritual falls on a Saturday?), which is a rare smiley face. The question he likely has then is “can I ever have a good night again?”
So for him to then turn to his own videos during one of those nights, to a video where he states his famous “embrace the void and have the courage to exist,” that showcases what I mentioned of his best work being written for himself, in this case, a future version of himself.
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Ending Sequence: Where Do We Land?
When the Circle does not display any media, it again shows the orange square motif, but after mentioning his own video, he turns to his audience for glimpses of what joy exists even in the face of Doom. The Circle changes into a display of different submitted clips showcasing this joy and hope that Dan was clearly looking for throughout this piece. He walks towards the top of the stairs to witness these clips. I cannot for my life at this point having now been separate from it for about a month, but I believe before the submitted media sequence, he states the famous line again of “Embrace the Void and Have the Courage to Exist”. With this last thing spoken, it gives that emphasis needed to take in the message emotionally and then witness what the Void (in this case the Circle) can offer.
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A Good Director Should Go Unnoticed
When someone is not versed in theatrical directing, if the audience cannot tell what was a choice by the director or even consider the director themselves, this is weirdly a good sign. It means that it feels natural to what they are witnessing and to the messages that are meant to be communicated to the audience. As someone who also works in government, it feels very similar, as only bad work is evident to the general public. Obviously that is not true for everyone, but is an overall trait I think impacts both an understanding of public service and directing.
I am not familiar with any of the work of Ed Stambollouian, who through research, looks like he has done work with comedians like Joe Lycett (who I am also not familiar with) and directed TATINOF, but also more stripped down, exploratory theatre. Through a quick review of his portfolio, one, I am not shocked that Dan tapped him to assist with directing since there is a familiarity and two, his background tells me he knows how to direct for writer-performers, which is what comedians really are at the end of the day.
To direct for those who are doing one-person shows that they both wrote and performed, it is especially tricky to have the artist hand the reins over to the director. The director in this case acts as the artist’s eyes, because an artist cannot clone themselves. It is impossible for them to wear multiple hats at once, where they can give quality, objective feedback to themselves while also doing a full out performance. For Ed to be someone Dan has worked with before, there is already an established understanding of each other’s work styles, and a trust that otherwise would have to be built up before the work can truly begin to finalize the piece.
In short, Ed Stambollouian and the creative team on We’re All Doomed did an incredible job bringing what I understand Dan intended when he started writing this down in isolation. And @danielhowell you whole-heartedly deserve to call this your magnum opus. What can I say (sorry I can't help lovingly poking fun at you), your artistry shines throughout the show. I hope this too can be something your future self can turn back to.
🧡
(bonus) Thoughts on Orange Carpet & the Phil element
I didn’t fully rewatch the orange carpet, just to keep myself on task & not bring Phil too much into the main reflection without explicit reference in the show, but hearing Dan go “I’m alive in 3, 2…” made me laugh both times. He understands that we just want to know he has a pulse, ya know? Also them pretending it totally was live, when those fools (affectionate) cannot run a real live broadcast from their home for their lives. It just ran too smoothly, esp. in the transitions, for it to be anything but some very, very light editing on one improvised take they did. But I always support them in their acting, no matter how bad, like with DITL Australia’s opener or pretending there were not two apartments or that Google Feud being back was unplanned or Dil being pregnant with a statistically rare alien child or Phil living in a tiled, cramped bedroom or...
Also, Dan’s little laugh at the end of Phil’s sign-off is so fond it hurts. It also hurt that the VOD was hard to scrub through, so another deduction for the Kiswe platform.
Anyway, I’m glad that Dan was able to find space outside of the Dan & Phil branding of the 2010s as well as the image he was forced to manufacture for his YouTube presence, but also realize that with having a core audience that wants him to simply be happy, he can recognize that Phil is part of the things that make him happy. And can do so openly.
He is his own person, but it has been clearly emphasized now that Dan has no interest in not acknowledging that Phil always is and will be part of his present and future. He has made work like WAD & "Gay and Not Proud" to explore his way of thinking without the support of Phil present in the filmed/performed aspect. Dan acknowledges this intention, which is evident with him shooing away Phil at the beginning of “Gay and Not Proud” to process it alone.
It is also evident with the ending of “Daniel & Depression” and the WAD end credit of remote crisis manager showcasing the caretaking role Phil often plays in Dan’s life. But we know that caretaking is reciprocal, considering Phil's tactics with glue as well as his continuing health issues and anxieties. Dan has seen who he is without Phil by his side everyday in the public eye & has no interest in maintaining that Phil is absent for public projections.
I obviously do not know Dan Howell, or anything about him outside what exists on the internet. But in performance studies, there is a foundational understanding that there is no way to not be performing in some way during your day-to-day. Performing is not inherently a bad thing, as there are different roles you take on in your life, where how I engage at work is different from how I am hanging out with friends. This also has basis in gender studies, such as ideas that you can perform your gender "wrong". What has been so interesting to me in this phandom renaissance is the way Dan and Phil each perform as themselves in front of the camera now. What they share out and the layers they include--or choose to not remove--have been stated by them explicitly to be the most authentic they have ever been, without obviously removing their right to privacy. During the height of the glass closet that was their 2018 content, I remember thinking that it was going to be the most they would show us in the vain of "if you know, you know, and we know who will know". After the coming out videos of 2019, obviously that's not true, but the return of dapg has signaled a message of "we know you know, if you've been in the know" while veiled in a way that is not immediately perceivable by those who are casually engaging with their content. It is an authentic portrayal of themselves without filter, while also providing themselves space to not have to announce everything to the world. When you are in the know, it definitely targeted and causes psychic damage, but I am ready for anything and everything they throw our way.
#we’re all doomed#wad spoilers#daniel howell#danisnotonfire#dnp#dan and phil#dan howell#theatre analysis#performance studies#theatre director
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Talking Buddie Language: Ep 6.11
I want to start off by saying Oliver Stark truly blew me away with his acting in tonight's episode. He truly has main character energy in this episode and he did this storyline such justice. This coma!Buck dream was everything I envisioned and more. I know the big problem I'm seeing is the lack of Eddie. However, I hope after you have read my meta, you can understand why I believe the lack of Eddie was so damn loud in this episode and what it can mean going further. As always, thank you so much if you take the time to read this! With that being said, let's get into it.
The Firefam Rushes Buck To The Hospital
It was such a prominent moment where the entire firefam, Buck's literal chosen family, all rush him to the hospital. From the literal second Eddie is out of the driver's seat, he runs towards his partner and pushes Chimney out of the way. There is no way in hell Eddie isn't going to do whatever he can in his power to bring Buck back to life. You can even hear it in his voice when he says, "Chim I'll take over" that he is hurting but trying to mask that hurt to get what needs to be done. He made a promise to Buck that he would always have his back and he was not going to go back on that promise now.
The visual of Eddie on top of Buck's gurney, doing compressions, will be something I will never get over. It was such a deliberate choice having it be Eddie who got his heart beating again and I am side eyeing these writer's and directors for those choices.
There's something that needs to be said about how Eddie is the one who starts Buck's heart again. Out of everyone there, even the two most trained medics, it was Eddie of all people who got his pulse back. Something about how Buck entrusted Eddie with his heart back in 5.14, so Eddie felt wholly responsible for safekeeping it.
After Eddie gets Buck back to them, they wheel him away and we hear Bobby telling the doctors about Buck's allergies and the doctor telling them that they would do their best. What is Eddie's reaction through all of this? He is following behind Buck, almost as if he is tethered to him by a string. He gets the furthest and yells back "DO MORE!" Because that is his partner and he doesn't do too well without control. This is out of Eddie's hands and he can't sit there and trust that these doctors, who are doing their best, is enough for his Buck. They need to go above and beyond, they need to do more than their best because Eddie can simply not handle a world without his partner. The devastation and pure fear in Eddie’s eyes hurts to look at because it’s so rare that we see him like this. He’s so defeated and the camera focusing on his reactions really tells me there’s a reason for it.
After Buck is whisked away, everyone is devastated in their own ways. Chimney is catatonic, Hen is understandably sad, Bobby is in shock but trying to keep it together for everyone else. Eddie? Eddie is crying. You can see the single tear rolling down his face when he screams at the doctors to do more. You can tell this usually stoic man is barely keeping it together. He turns around, walks up to Chim and let's his tears fall as he embraces him. You hear the loud sniffle and you see he is not holding back any of his emotions.
Why is this important? Because it is such a massive difference to how he acted when his actual wife died in season 2. Going back to rewatch that scene, the differences are so distinct that I find it fascinating to see how he reacted to his wife dying vs how he reacted to his partner dying. With Shannon, Eddie is a soldier, he doesn't cry and he knows the severity of the situation. He goes into that ambulance fully knowing there is nothing he can do to prevent the inevitable. He holds her hand and tells her to "Just be silent" so she doesn't use up her remaining breath. This is such a difference to last episode where Eddie ran after Buck and kept calling his name, begging him to just talk to him. He also jumped in and did whatever he could to help save Buck's life even when he was dead. There was something he could do and he was going to do it.
When Shannon is wheeled into the hospital, he doesn't follow her. He stays where he is frozen in place. With Buck, it's a different story. He is almost pulled after him and if it were up to Eddie, he would have followed him behind those doors as well.
The final comparison is Eddie's crying. When his wife dies, he steps out and sees his team. He is containing those tears and walks up to Bobby. It's not until he embraces Bobby that he lets his tears fall. With Buck, he is already crying as they wheel him away. He turns around and lets his entire team see him at his most vulnerable because that's Buck. Buck is someone so dear to him and Eddie is a different person now than he was when Shannon passed. His reluctance to let others see him cry when Shannon died indicates heavy repression on his part. Now, thanks to therapy and a little to Buck, he is embracing those emotions and allowing himself to feel things. He is not repressing those emotions and that is a beautiful thing to remember for his storyline progression this season.
Buck’s Coma Dream Begins
I love love love how the first thing Buck remembered when he woke up in coma world was Eddie. He wakes up and sees a random doctor, who’s really his dead brother, and feels like things are weird around him. The conversation then prompts the idea of Eddie is what I’m holding on to for a few reasons.
D: Maybe the next time you decide to go up a ladder, you should have someone there to spot you.
B: I did.
Buck’s facial expression here indicates immediate disbelief. He can’t fathom the idea where he does something dangerous and there’s no one there to have his back. And not just any one but his specific someone. Since we know this coma dream is basically his subconscious, it just cements the fact that in any universe and in any world, Buck is content with the fact that there will always be someone who has his back. Even though he’s not saying Eddie’s name out loud, just showing that flashback to Eddie telling him “Alright cowboy go get em” proves that he’s thinking of him and only him.
Another thing to note during this moment with his siblings is the importance of who and what family means to Buck. When Maddie tells him about the family dinner, you once again can see it in his face that he’s confused, prompting him to question “what family?” Because he has three distinct families he can think of and consider just that.
(1.) His fire family which includes all the spouses and kids.
(2.) Maddie, Chim, Jee-Yun + Buckley’s???
(3.) Eddie and Christopher.
The last family dinner before he was in a coma was that weird Buckley/Han dinner. But what was the one before that?? Oh yeah the Buckley-Diaz family dinner back in 6.01, which was very significant and foreshadowed a lot in my honest opinion.
I most definitely think in another life (hah), if Buck wasn’t a firefighter, then he would have a career dealing with children. So a teacher makes sense for this alternate reality. I was really hoping for him being Christopher’s teacher but beggars can’t be choosers. I will say however, it’s so important that the second person he remembers in this coma world is Christopher. One look at that ferris wheel figurine in his loft and his thoughts immediately flood with the tsunami and Christopher yelling for help! That begs the question: why Christopher? Why is he so important to Buck that his subconscious is forcing that memory upon him?
Buck Knows Something Is Not Right
I want to reiterate something before I continue, and that is all of this coma dream was conjured up of Buck’s subconscious. These are not things that are true in real life and it’s just how he views certain things based off of information he’s received.
Seeing the Buckley’s trying to be a happy family is really troublesome because it’s not as natural and organic as you would think a real family interacting should be. Buck, from the beginning, knows that something is not right and he’s having difficulty trying to figure out what it is. It’s not until the introduction of Doug that he realizes he’s in some sort of weird alternate life.
I love that his first reaction was to seek Chimney because in every life, he will be the one person that will, undoubtedly believe Buck with anything he needs to say. As he tries to further convince Chimney that he knows him, you see him starting to really lose out on this hope that Chim will be the one that helps him get answers. I think Oliver’s acting was phenomenal because he just uses certain tactics where you see a slight tick of his breath or a slight downturn of his lip that changes how he’s feeling. That entire scene where he’s having a heart attack because Bobby is dead?! Holy hell terrific acting!!! But I don’t want to focus too much on his interactions with Chim or Hen because at the end of the day, this is meant to focus on the Buddie of it all, so apologies in advance friends.
Christopher Visits His Dad
I do not think I have fully recovered from the severity of this scene nor do I think I will for a really long time. The fact that it was Christopher's idea to go visit Buck in the hospital and he was so damn adamant reminds me of how he woke Buck up from his sleep so that he could talk to his father, who was also in a coma. If these two scenes are not meant to parallel one another and signify that both Eddie and Buck are seen as Christopher's fathers, then what is it meant to be?
Eddie, my sweet Eddie, was dressed in all black. I'm talking black shirt, black jeans, black button up. He was clearly meant to be in mourning with his grown out stubble and his dark circles. This is such a vast difference to the grieving Eddie we saw in 2.18 after the death of his wife. He was wearing a white henley and he was sad but not as devoid of all feelings as he was in this episode. But numb or not, one thing Eddie will always be is a wonderful father who loves his child and cannot say no to him. I think it was so sweet that Eddie had to put his own feelings aside and allow his son to see Buck, even if he had to sneak him in to do it.
Eddie in this entire scene was everything and more. I know a lot of people wanted a bit more from him. But this is Eddie Diaz we are talking about. The same Eddie Diaz that barely let Buck in last season and let him see him at his most vulnerable.
H: Christopher?
E: I couldn't tell him no.
C: Is he sleeping?
He is so very clearly devastated and trying to keep it together for his son's sake and it shows. He is avoiding eye contact with Chris because he doesn't want him to see the level of sadness he's holding in his eyes. He turns away and wipes his eyes because this is him trying to be strong but failing because it's Buck. He has to compose himself a bit before he can even answer his son. Ryan’s acting here was so amazing. The man really knows how to do broody and devastated haha.
(Gif by @agentoutofdiaz)
E: Something like that. He's resting. So the machines could do all the work. Make him feel better.
You can actually hear how broken he is by his voice. It sounds like someone who has been crying. Even his eyes are red and teary, which proves this man has been going through it. When Christopher asks him "What are all these tubes?" You can literally see Eddie in the back, closing his eyes and shaking his head. This is where he gives up. He is not strong enough to go on and explain to his son the severity of Buck's situation. He wants to wake up from this nightmare. You can see him struggling so hard when he closes his eyes and accepts defeat. This then prompts Hen to explain why the tubes are needed to Christopher.
Once again, this is how Eddie mourns. He is barely holding it together and you can clearly see the emotions on that man's face. It is the most difficult task in the world telling your child that their other parent is ill and may not wake up. So it goes to show how different it was when Buck had to break the bad news to Christopher vs how Eddie simply could not go into details on the severity of Buck's injuries. Another thing to remember is that Eddie didn't struggle this much when he told Chris about Shannon's death. They hugged while Chris cried, but he did not let Chris see him crying over Shannon. Instead, he went to the beach and cried by himself. It's such a massive turn of events because Eddie simply cannot even hide his tears from Christopher even if he wanted to. He is standing in the background, struggling to explain to his son what is happening with Buck, while having tears rolling down his face.
C: Hey Buck, it's Christopher, I know you're sick but it's only temporary. You're gonna be ok. That's what all the machines are doing, making you better. But wherever you are, you have to come back. Wherever you are right now, you have to come back.
(Gif by @matan4il)
I have no words, I am simply inconsolable. Christopher Diaz ripping out my heart with his words. Not only mine but you can clearly see how affected Eddie is in the background. He cannot look at his son talking to Buck like that. His eyes are diverted and he is openly wiping his tears while crying. Once again, that is a man grieving someone so fucking close to him. You cannot look at Eddie's reaction to Buck and compare it to the others’ because it just feels different. Yes everyone is emotional in their own ways, but none of them are acting like the love of their life is dying BUT Eddie. No one is wearing all black, no one is avoiding looking at him because the simple look of Buck so lifeless will break them, except Eddie. There is so much in his quiet mourning that screams volumes and people are just choosing not to focus on it. Especially when you go back and look at Eddie right after his wife actually died. The differences are night and day.
Christopher’s words to Buck also tie in two important events in the Buckley-Diaz family and that is the tsunami and Eddie being buried in that well. When he tells Buck “You’re gonna be ok”, that’s a direct callback to him telling Buck the same thing before the tsunami happened. That was ironically what saved Buck while he was in his little funk. Christopher saved Buck. Christopher’s “Wherever you are, you have to come back” is also a callback for when Eddie was buried and he was remembering his family. Sure that was what Shannon said to him but I think essentially, the idea of Chris and Buck is what saved Eddie. So here we have Chris once again saying a few choice words in the hope that it brings Buck home and I am too emotional about it all.
Buck Tries To Go Home
I’ve already written my thoughts on what the main purpose of this episode was, so if you’re interested in reading that, you can find it right here.
It’s clear as day that this whole coma dream was supposed to be a catalyst in Buck realizing who he is and that he doesn’t need a job or something else to be accepted and loved. Because the people who matter to him will always love him for being Buck.
One thing I do want to mention is that even in this coma world, he still knows and thinks about Christopher and Eddie. He literally runs into Chris in his coma dream and that small interaction killed me.
C: Can you help me find my dad?
B: Sorry but you're not real and I got to go. I'm really gonna feel guilty for that one.
At the end of the day, there’s a reason as to why Chris is asking for help finding his dad. Even though it breaks Buck’s heart to not help him, he knows to an extent that he will always be there helping Chris and Eddie if they need him. That this dream world doesn’t really exist and out there in the real world, he’ll help them every time.
I’m not thrilled about this weird parental redemption arc. It was too forced and not organic enough to be believable but that’s just my opinion.
When Daniel tries preventing Buck from going back, he throws it back in his face that he was literally made for spare parts that failed. That is literally Buck’s subconscious and his own issues being voiced. When he responds, “Wasn’t my fault”, it further proves that what Eddie has said to him resonated with him. So even though Eddie is missing in this coma world, the impact he in turn has had on Buck is extremely present.
At the end of it all, he finally realizes that he’s Buck and that his family who already love him, truly love him for the person he is. He doesn’t need to change anything about himself, doesn’t need to injure himself for that love because they already just do.
Buck Will Always Be Buck
I believe there’s definitely a long road to recocery ahead for Buck and I can’t wait to see him struggle with the after effects and the ptsd. I love the final team moment in which they all come to visit him in the hospital.
Eddie is clearly much happier than we’ve seen him all episode and he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of Buck. His eyes still have dark circles but he looks a bit more put together. But the moment the camera zooms in on him, you can tell he once again checks him over with his eyes fully, before urging his son to hug Buck. You can hear the elation in his voice when he tells Chris to hug Buck. He sounds less broken and like he’s on the mend himself. He’s giggling and trying to enjoy the fact that Buck is alive.
The Buck and Christopher hug literally symbolizes a father and son reunited and no one can convince me otherwise!!! So wholesome and it really goes to show how different Christopher is to Buck. No one else’s kids came to visit, not even his own niece. And in an episode where the theme is, predominantly, fatherhood/parenthood, I think this is a huge choice to include their special bond.
Bobby and Buck: Father and Son
The ending scene with Bobby and Buck was very heartwarming. This episode really did highlight how close these two are and finally confirmed what we’ve all been saying for years and that is Buck is Bobby’s son. A few things that they said during their conversation really stood out to me.
B: You know you were still Bobby actually. You helped me figure some things out. Find my way home.
BN: Good. Though I still find it hard to believe that you voluntarily left a world where you could fix everything.
B: Not everything, uh trust me it's better here.
Once again, I am very convinced that there will be some kind of foreshadowing here in which Bobby helps Buck figure some things out. Like I mentioned in my last meta, I knew Bobby was going to help Buck figure some things out and in tonight's episode, he ultimately did. He helped him come home. But the way Buck is reserved and doesn't tell Bobby the whole truth tells me that he clearly still has some work to do in his life.
Yes he could have stayed in that world but at what cost? He wouldn't have Eddie or Christopher in his life, he wouldn't have Bobby in his life. So in his most ideal dreamt up world, he is missing the 3 most important people to him after his sister. He was unable to help fix things with Eddie, which lead to him losing his custody battle with his parents. He was unable to help fix Bobby's addiction, thus leading to his death. A world without the Diaz boys and Bobby is not a world in which Evan Buckley wants to be a part of and that speaks tremendous voices.
The Couch Conversation
I am still very annoyed at this weird parental redemption act and I don't know how much longer I can buy that those people have truly changed for the better. One thing that is very important to note is the couch conversation.
When his mother asks him if he plans on getting a couch, Buck is quick to reassure her that "Eventually. I'm good with the chair for now." That's his way of being fine being single for the time being. He doesn't need a relationship, especially since he just came back from a serious injury. Then his mother insists on pushing it further and tells him that she will be getting him a couch. Once again Buck reaffirms that he is "Good with the chair." His mother then seems very adamant on making his loft more homey and he seems ok to let her do it, going so far as calling it "nice."
Now if we all remember the conversation from 6.01, a couch symbolizes a relationship to Buck. He told Eddie and Christopher that he didn't want to pick the wrong couch again and here we have his mother just going out and choosing one for herself. This will backfire eventually because Buck stated multiple times he doesn't want a couch, that he's good with his armchair. So I think this foreshadows his parents, his fire family forcing their support and care to Buck after his recovery, where the man just wants to be left alone to recuperate. It would make sense in that way.
I don't foresee a new legitimate love interest appearing and having us focus on the development of that, especially knowing that there are good moments set to occur between Buck and Eddie. I say this because Buck is on a road to recovery and he will be suffering from some ptsd. Who do we know that just recently went through his own struggles with ptsd? Oh yeah the same person who turned to Buck for support: Eddie. So I strongly believe Eddie will be playing a more important role in Buck's recovery. I also think the couch of it all is very open ended and that it can symbolize many different things. For now, I am choosing to wait and see what the symbolism of this new couch is going to be. Surely it won't stick around forever since we all know who has Buck's perfect couch...
Once again, thank you so much if you read all of this. This one was a tough one for me considering how emotional this episode was for me. Thank you to @aa-lionheart for all the other wonderful gifs. All my love to you darlings 💜
#buddie#buddie meta#911 meta#911 spoilers#christopher diaz#911 on fox#evan buckley#eddie diaz#maddie buckley#chimney han#bobby nash
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QUIET LOVE, OH HOW IT SCREAMS
synopsis: "i'd never let anything happen to you, if i could help it."
a/n: GOD, i love doctor!au inukag. i did a lot of editing and revising for this, so it's a different beast from what it was when smutmas version came out. i'm not 100% happy with the ending, but i mean. if i did any more i had a feeling i would just ruin it instead of help it.
— 💓 —
“You’re going to love me,” Sango sing-songed, sliding into the seat next to Kagome’s.
Kagome grunted, massaging her temple. The bar wasn't too crowded, thankfully, but the noise level was high enough that she had to speak up to be heard. “Why? Did you kill the hospital director yet?”
“No,” Sango said primly; Onigumo Industries owned the hospital Kagome was a surgeon at, and Sango's father was vice president of one of the subsidiaries. “But,” she said, grasping her friend’s arm, “I kind of have a solution to your extended shift problem.”
“You mean the hospital is hiring another surgeon?” Kagome mumbled grumpily, knocking back her watered down whisky. The moisture that collected outside the glass splattered unto the bar when she slammed it down.
“No! A guy!”
Kagome stared at her best friend, first blankly, then sourly. “Sango, I love you and I know you only have my best interests at heart, but seriously? I barely have time to bathe Buyo. I don’t have time for a guy.”
“No, I mean like to fuck!” her friend said encouragingly. “It’s been rough the past few weeks. Maybe a good orgasm will fix you right up!"
Kagome's cheeks colored. "I don't—"
Sango wasn't having any of it. "Aw, come on! It's just some harmless fun. He’s right over there, by the booth—”
“Now?” Kagome said incredulously. “I’m in my scrubs. I have a stain on my shirt!”
“So? Is it a shit stain?”
“I’m not even going to correct you on how many hospital protocols I would’ve broken if it were a shit stain.”
“Lighten up, Kagome!” Sango insisted, jumping up from her chair and tugging at her friend's arm. “It’s Friday and you deserve to get laid. Come on.”
“It is a testament to our ten-year friendship that I am choosing to trust you,” Kagome said flatly, throwing a few bills on the counter to cover her drink. She called over the bartender before letting Sango pull her away.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Sango said brightly, then brandished her friend from behind her. “As promised, my lady doctor friend.”
“Hi,” the guy at the edge of the booth said, dark hair and bright, blue eyes. He was cute, Kagome could admit, if a little too... pedestrian, for her tastes. He extended a hand to shake. “I’m Kōga.”
“Kagome,” she introduced herself, taking his hand for a brief shake. He scooted over and motioned for her to sit next to him.
Sango had already settled into the side of a guy who had a short ponytail and earrings. “I’m Miroku,” that guy said.
She only just managed to land her butt on the leather seat of the booth, she felt a familiar vibration pattern in her pocket. Her emergency pattern.
Before Kōga—or Sango, for that matter—could utter a word, she’d straightened and fished out her phone. “Hospital. Gotta go.”
Without so much as a look back, she bolted.
—
“I’m here,” Kagome panted, running into the ER. "I'm here!"
“Doc!” Jinenji, one of the nurses on shift, called out, timidly holding a clipboard to his chest as he approached from the nurses' station. “I know you just got out—”
“It’s fine.” She waved away his concern. “What do you need?”
“We did a test for Nazuna, the one who had the appendectomy earlier today, and the results required a change in dosage,” he informed her, then turned sheepish when he continued, “I’m really sorry; her mother was getting… irate, and I couldn't get another physician—”
Kagome shook her head and let out a breath. “It’s okay, Jinenji; it's not your fault. Good thing I was nearby.” A bar two blocks away wasn't necessarily nearby, but Jinenji didn’t have to know that. She took the clipboard. "Nazuna... the one with anemia, right? Can we check if she needs a transfusion? Her RBC's looking pretty low..."
“Dr. Higurashi!” another nurse cried as soon as Jinenji took off with her advice. “Thank God you're here; I need you!”
Kagome sighed and got to work.
—
A few hours later, she yawned as she pushed back against the desk in the middle of the doctor's lounge, her chair screeching against the floor. "Oh my God," she groaned, exhausted.
“I hear Higurashi,” a gruff voice called a few hours later, and a light-haired head popped into the admin room doorway. Gold eyes peered at her with interest. “Hey. Isn’t your shift over? Why are you still here?”
Kagome stretched in her chair and rubbed her eye with the back of her hand. She smiled tiredly at Inuyasha, who regarded her with curious eyes. “Had to do something. You haven’t left yet?”
He strode into the room, hands in his pockets. He’d forgone his lab coat and scrubs, changing into jeans and a button-up shirt. “About to, yeah. Where'd you come from? Your house?”
She shook her head. “No, I was at the bar two blocks down. You know Shikon?”
Inuyasha smirked and jerked his head. “Come on. I’ll drive you back. Unless you wanna walk…?”
“Nah, you’re good,” she said, collecting her things and leaving the room. She fell into step next to him. “And excuse you, I had one drink.”
He opened the door to the stairwell and let her pass; the elevator to the parking was under repair. “Shikon’s for kids anyway. Why not head to, I don’t know, Totosai’s, or something?”
“I didn’t pick the place,” Kagome mumbled. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she fumbled for it, shoes echoing as they made their way down the cement steps.
“Oh? Were you out with friends, then?”
"Yeah." Kagome groaned, pausing in the middle of the stairwell, "And she’s fucking pissed at me.”
Inuyasha raised an eyebrow, curious. He hopped back up a few steps to get back to her level and peered at her phone, eyes widening at the slew of texts she'd apparently ignored.
Sango 23:44
Is everything ok?
Sango 00:22
Kagome we’re still at the bar in case u wanna come back, I’m telling Koga ur coming back
Sango 00:28
Can u reply so i can give an update
Sango 01:18
Kagome PLS!! Trying to call u, pls answer
Sango 01:31
Koga left. He’s kinda pissed and I’m super embarrassed
Sango 01:56
Leaving too, it’s been 2 hours
Sango 02:03
Call me in the morning when I’m more important than your job
He whistled lowly. “She’s really mad, huh?”
“No, really? What gave that away?” Kagome said blankly, furiously typing back. Sorry, stuff at the hospital got hectic. Will make it up to you tomorrow. She sent the message and pocketed her phone, pressing a hand to her forehead. She took a deep breath before turning to climb back up the stairs.
“What’s up?”
“You go on ahead,” she said.
“What?" She could hear Inuyasha climb up after her. "Why?”
“I’m heading home,” she said, looking back at him. She lived on the other side of town, opposite the direction of Shikon.
Inuyasha put his hands in his pockets and looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you crazy? It’s two in the morning, Higurashi. I’ll drive you home."
She gaped. “Are you crazy? I live an hour away!”
“Traffic won’t be too bad,” he said with a shrug, not looking at her. “I don’t mind. Seriously.”
“But—”
He sighed and climbed further up the stairs until they were a step apart, his eyes meeting hers with barely a tilt of his head. “Kagome, seriously. You work too hard and give too much."
She rolled her eyes, "I'm fine—"
"Oh, come on," Inuyasha said, clearly exasperated. "Don’t think I hadn’t heard of you being wheeled out of the operating room after that cystectomy last week.”
She flushed at that. “I—How’d you know about that?”
“Jinenji’s very easy to manipulate.”
She gaped and lightly smacked his arm. “That’s mean! You know he’s scared of you.”
“He’s scared of a lot of things,” Inuyasha shot back. “And I would’ve known anyway.”
“How?”
“Kagome,” he said, one of his hands slipping out of his pocket to gently grasp her wrist. He raised it so it hovered in between their faces. “You’re shaking.”
Her hand twitched before her eyes, and she bit her lip. “I'm fine, I'm just tired—"
"Tired? But you're consistently taking 24-hour shifts?" He lowered her hand, but didn't let go of her wrist. "Come on, Kagome. Admit it; you're overworking yourself."
She sniffed. "I didn’t know you watched me so closely.” It was meant to corner him, but it came out feeble and shy.
He sighed and lowered their clasped hands. “Seriously, Kagome,” he mumbled as he, to her surprise, rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “You need to take care of yourself more.”
She looked down at his hand, watching as his thumb dragged tenderly over her skin.
Her relationship with Inuyasha was both surprisingly simple and terrifyingly complicated. They had met in medical school, when she was a sophomore and he was in his last year. They'd gone to different schools—rival schools—but they had a mutual friend who introduced them, thinking they’d be perfect for each other.
It couldn’t have gone more wrong.
She looked too much like his ex, he said, while she claimed that he was too big of an asshole. While they were both planning to eventually become surgeons, it seemed like the similarities stopped there. Whenever they managed to come across each other it was like they wanted to bite each other’s head off for the smallest of things—like breathing too loud, or walking too slow—until they discovered that they’d work together in the same hospital, in the same operating team.
They'd learned to deal with each other. At least until the day Kagome’s brother had been wheeled in into the ER.
Sōta had been shot.
Kagome had nearly lost her mind with worry, snapping at anyone who denied her access to her brother, until Inuyasha had to practically manhandle her to sit down on the couch in the physician’s lounge. He had talked her down, told her that he was handling the operation, he'd be the one to take care of her brother, but she needed to calm the fuck down, okay?
She'd grabbed his hand and made him promise to do everything—everything—he could.
He'd kissed her forehead, unbidden, and left the room. The shock of it was like the icing on the proverbial cake, rendering her speechless. It was too much all at once, and she ended up sleeping on the lounge couch. A few hours later, Inuyasha woke Kagome up and she bolted to see her brother.
Sōta had made it, albeit looking a little worse for wear. Her mother had screamed at the police on the phone, the angriest Kagome had ever seen her. Turned out Sōta had been shot by an unknown assailant after being mugged, and the man was still on the loose.
The police had found him eventually, Kagome had told Inuyasha when he asked, and she hadn't known anything beyond that. The other surgeon nodded, looking pensive. Kagome had realized she hadn’t thanked him yet, for all he’d done. She had suggested that she pick up his shifts in return.
He'd declined (surprisingly politely). Instead, he'd offered to pick up her shifts while she took a break. When she'd asked what for, all he said was, "To take care of your brother," and left it at that.
She'd thought he'd take one or two shifts, but he'd crossed her name out of the shift sheet for a total of three weeks, declaring that hanyōs didn't really need sleep, and therefore could take on more work. ("I'm the ideal ER doctor, if you think about it," he'd said.)
"Inuyasha," she said.
His thumb resumed its motions. "Hm?"
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked him.
That seemed to snap him out of whatever stupor he'd landed himself in, and he let go. She kind of missed it.
With a blush on his face, he scoffed and looked away. "I—You know, I pick up your shifts when you're out, you know? I—You shouldn't take—If you get sick, I'll have to take more shifts."
Awkward silence settled over them, and Kagome stepped down to stand closer to him. They were practically nose to nose, and Inuyasha's gold gaze met hers with an intensity that made her want to shiver.
"You're lying," she challenged boldly, and that made him scoff again, sounding completely offended this time around.
"Why would I lie?" he said with a roll of his eyes, turning away and stepping down.
Kagome was growing frustrated. She couldn't put into words what she wanted to tell him.
"You're always—" She shook her head. She was ready to yell, but she wasn't angry. Once upon a time, she would have snapped, called him a coward, and stomped past him. But gone was the pure loathing that defined the early stages of their relationship. So where did that leave them?
Where did that leave her?
He turned and looked back up at her. "Look. I can drive you home, and I—" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, okay? You've had a long day. I can take your shift tomorrow, just... just get some rest."
The next thing she knew, she was watching his back as he climbed down the stairs, and that's when it dawned on her.
Her brother, her job, her wellbeing—why hadn't she realized sooner that—
"Inuyasha."
He paused and sighed, turning back to face her. "Kagome, just—"
Maybe it was the exhaustion, but the way he looked at her made her eyes prick with heat. She bounded towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shirt collar. "Thank you."
He was clearly taken aback, but managed to keep both of them upright. "Wh—For what—"
"For taking care of me," she mumbled. "That's what you're doing, right?"
She felt his body go rigid before relaxing. His arms slowly came around her middle. "Stupid girl," he murmured with so much affection it made her heart skip, "Only because you're doing a terrible job at it."
She sobbed. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
"It's okay."
"And I'm sorry for not noticing sooner," she sniffled. "I'm sorry for being a workaholic, and for being exhausted, and for crying."
His arms tightened just a bit. "It's okay."
"I'm sorry for being annoying about it."
His low laughter rumbled in his chest. "It's okay."
She hugged him tighter. "And I'm sorry I never thanked you for Sōta."
He lets out a breath and turn his head. "You don't have to apologize or thank me for that, Kagome," he told her gently. Pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear, he continued, "Your family is important to you. I'd never let anything happen to them." Then, softer yet louder at the same time, "I'd never let anything happen to you, if I could help it."
That made her gut wrench and heart swell and it made her cry harder.
He held her close as she did.
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Hey,
I came up with this idea a while back and I only wrote one part. If you all like it, I will make it a series. It's a Stucky fanfic. Hope you enjoy.
Stucky x reader (female, shield agent)
Stole my heart
Warnings: A brief fight, Tony being a dick (no hate)
It was a Saturday morning when Steve woke up. He looked over to Bucky and smiled. It had been a rare night, because Bucky didn't have one of his nightmares. Although Steve knew how to deal with them, it was hard on both of them.
Steve carefully, trying not to wake him, pulled Bucky closer to him. "Morning, punk." He was awake after all. "Morning, Buck", Steve replied.
Suddenly Friday spoke into the silence. "Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, you are requested to be in the meeting room at 9.00 am. "Who by?", asked Bucky. "Director Fury" The two supersoldiers looked at each other. Fury never came to the compound. "This must be important", said Bucky. "Tell Fury we'll be there", said Steve. "He said", Friday replied,"quote, You have no choice!" Both men chuckled.
Some time later the two supersoldiers made their way down to the meeting room, wondering what to expect. On their way, they met Nat. "Fury called you too?", she asked. "Yes, but who else?", answered Steve. "I have no idea."
But their questions were soon answered as they stepped into the room. Every Avenger had come and lots of them were sat in the chairs, some still arriving. When everyone was seated, Fury entered. "Today I want to assemble a team.", he announced. "A team?", asked Tony,"Like a team below us? To help us?" "No. Like a team inside a team. Experts if you will", Fury said. Everyone looked at each other. They were confused. "Hydras getting bigger. They have become a bigger threat.", he continued," I can not use S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, because of this exact reason." "Well, I think any of us will be able to handle Hydra", Clint said. He was about to say something else, but Fury cut him off. "I have already chosen who will be in this team, and no, it is not you." "Well, who is it?", asked Wanda. "Sam, Cap and Romanoff have had experience before, so them" "Oh no, not again", Sam groaned. "Yes, Fury replied,"also Barnes, because he has a long history with Hydra." "But how will that work, I'm a big danger if someone says..." Fury cut Bucky off. "Lastly I have agent, who is very high up in S.H.I.E.L D. rankings and who also has a long history with Hydra. Y/N Y/LN." You walked in. "Agent Y/N Y/L/N"
Tony scoffed: "High up, are we?", he asked, trying to wind you up . "Hmm, well better than you", you said calmly. "We'll see about that", he said and stood up. As he walked closer, you didn't even flinch. You just waited. Everyone felt the tense atmosphere around the two of you. When he got close enough l, he put out his hand to summon his suit. But then you quickly kicked him in his balls. As he winced and doubled up in pain, you said: "Nice to meet you" and sat down at the table, Loki and Nat smirked, they liked her. "She will live at the compound, but only complete Hydra missions. She will also carry on with S.H.I.E.L.D. missions. Any questions?", said Fury, completely unfazed about what just happened. "Yes", said Tony, who had recovered a bit, "How long will she be staying?" "As long as I need to.", you answered. "Well, it's my duty to show new recruits around.", said Steve. "Thank you, but that won't be nessesary, as I already know my way around." "How?", he asked taken aback. "I know a lot of things." was your answer.
"The new team will stay, the rest of you can go.", said Fury. Toby wanted to say something, but then Fury said: "If I were you, I would get some ice." Pietro chuckled as he made his way out.
"Ok, now there is not much else. Y/N will lead during missions, as she is experienced and knows Hydra. She will also write the mission reports.", Fury carried on.
Suddenly Bucky said one simple word,"Shadow". You tensed up. "Not here, not now.", was all that you said. "We are finished now", Fury broke the awkward silence, that had formed.
After Steve and Bucky left the room, Steve asked a question: "What was that about?" Bucky's answer was only two words: "It's complicated"
#the avengers#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#stucky x reader#stucky x y/n#stucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#stucky fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x bucky barnes#steve rogers fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic series
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A LIFE IN THE DAY
David Duchovny: ‘Love can happen at any age, right?
The actor, 63, on The X Files, songwriting and snacking
EKATERINA GERBY
Interview by Helen Cullen
Wednesday January 17 2024, 12.01am GMT, The Sunday Time
Duchovny was born in New York City. He studied English at Princeton University and Yale, before breaking into acting in the late 1980s, starting in TV adverts and working his way up. In 1993 he began playing the role of the FBI agent Fox Mulder in The X Files, which ran for nine years. He later played Hank Moody in Californication. He has also released three folk-rock albums and published five novels — last year he directed a film adaptation of one of these, Bucky F***ing Dent. Duchovny has two grown-up children from his former marriage to the actress Téa Leoni. He lives in California, with his girlfriend, Monique Pendleberry, and his two dogs, Brick and Rookie.
I like to get up at dawn because those are my best thinking and writing hours. I love the sunrise but it also means I can get some work done before the sun gets too much. That’s the best time of day for me. I have a coffee that makes me think I’m brilliant for ten minutes and that’s all I need to get going.
Food to me is just fuel and I don’t have very advanced taste buds. I think everything kind of tastes OK, which people react to with suspicion. For breakfast I like oatmeal — what my Scottish mother called porridge.
If I’m filming I still like an early start, but I shot my recent film What Happens Later, with Meg Ryan, all through the night because we filmed in a regional airport after it closed at 9pm. That’s a bit of a nightmare for me as a morning person, but we developed a great camaraderie from working while the world was asleep. My daughter, West, thought it was great to see a romantic comedy film with people my age, but I don’t think of myself as any age, so I hadn’t thought about that. Love can happen at any age, right?
Everybody wants me to have a hobby, but I’m blessed because I love my work. I’ve been able to branch out into music, writing and directing. With songwriting I can pick up the guitar at any time. If you wait for inspiration to hit, you’ll be sitting on your ass for ever.
I knock off for lunch about 12pm. That’s when I have the one big meal of the day that would be recognisable to other humans as a proper meal — vegetables and a protein such as fish. The rest of the time I snack.
In the afternoon I work out. I love the games I played when I was younger — boxing, tennis and basketball — but as I get older I tend to get hurt doing those, so I’ve found Pilates is best for me. It’s still super hard but the least dangerous.
I live in Malibu and the height of my fame has passed, so it’s not difficult for me to move around any more. It’s a different era now because everybody has a phone, so paparazzi are more a thing of the past. I tend to go to the same places where people are bored of seeing me.
There are always different reasons why fans might stop me — it could be still because of The X Files or Californication. I am very proud of The X Files. I can’t think of another show like it in terms of cultural impact and longevity. I just thought we were making good, goofy TV but Chris Carter, the creator and director, saw what was coming in terms of the culture of conspiracy theories. Gillian Anderson [his co-star] and I went from being unknown to globally recognised in a couple of years. We don’t get to see each other that much as she lives in London, but there’s no one else I can share that with.
West is an actor now too. It wasn’t something that I would have charted out for her because I know how difficult it is, even more so for a woman, but I want her to do something she’s passionate about. There are still dark corners in Hollywood but the pitfalls and dangers are much more upfront.
I do enjoy a party, but I’d rather spend time with friends in the evening. Because I like to get up so early, I go to bed early also. I feel electric light has really f***ed with our sense of mind and body, and that we were made to hide in the cave at night from predators and wake up with the sun, so I try to do that. Constitutionally, I feel like that works for me.
Words of wisdom
Best advice I was given
It doesn’t matter if people laugh; it matters if it feels funny to you
Advice I’d give
There’s no such thing as good advice — you have to come to it on your own
What I wish I’d known
Take a moment to appreciate what you’ve done before worrying about the next thing
What Happens Later is in cinemas now and available to stream in spring. The Reservoir by David Duchovny is out now (Akashic Books £19.95)
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Hi can i request a tom hiddleston x desi actress reader where she is pregnant and already has kids who hav hindi names which r ver cute and she craves indian food in the middle of interviews and shoots
AN - back again and I have plenty of requests and if anyone wants to request something then please feel free to send me them.
Thank you and Enjoy your reading!
Crazy Cravings
Tom Hiddleston x Desi!Reader
Summary: You are an actress but before that, you are pregnant…
Tag list: @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @lastwandastan, @eudximoniakr, @saraelizabeth26, @girlnred, @hc-geralt-23, @omgsuperstarg, @strangesthirdeye, @clea-strange-is-the-way, @lana, @kenzi-woycehoski, @nyx2021, @all-things-fandomstuck, @newt-scamander-is-hot-af, @moon-light1415, @candypurplebutterfly, @littlesatanicassholebitch, @nats-whore, @lady-athanasia, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @hyacinthus007, @shine101
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff
“How are you feeling, meri jaan?” she heard the soothing voice of her husband before she felt his hand over her protruding belly. A giggle left her throat as he placed a kiss on her cheek, chuckling softly against her skin. “I feel better now,” she replies with a grin.
Tom hums, wrinkling his eyebrows as he settles down next to her on the leather couch as everyone around them worked hard to get the place ready for the interview which would start any moment now.
As actors, Tom and (Y/N) could never take a day off, especially when they were in the center of the show. And in times like this, with the lady pregnant, Tom found himself worrying more and more about her; constantly asking whether she was fine or not, if she needed something or not.
No wonder her cousins and mother started teasing him by calling him a “mother”.
“Hello, Tom and (Y/N),” greeted the lady who was supposed to take their interview. The pair smiled brightly, greeting the lady back whose name they learnt to be Bianca.
“Are we ready?” The director asked, earning a couple of nods from the crew and thumbs up from the guests. “Well then. Lights. Camera and Action.”
And then began the interview.
The beginning was always the same; introductions, their achievements, a few questions about their current show. But after that came the personal part, one that rendered the actor a bit uncomfortable as he tried to keep his life to himself.
“So, you two have a daughter together and another little Hiddleston is on the way,” the interviewer states with a smile, making the couple glance at each other with smile as (Y/N) placed a hand over her overgrown bump. “Yes.”
“And your daughter’s name is Kavya, isn’t it?” Bianca queries, struggling with the pronunciation for a while before Tom helps her. “Yes. We decided on an Indian name because they just sound so… soothing. Like hot chocolate in winters,” Tom gushed, his face reddening up as he glanced at his wife.
“Awww… that’s sweet. (Y/N), how is the pregnancy going for you?”
“Honestly, everything is fine except for the cravings,” she whined, making the Loki actor burst into a fit of laughter as he remembered the many nights when he woke up to finding his wife cooking some Indian dish or digging deep into the kitchen cabinets to find Maggi.
“What do you crave?” Bianca asks, her eyes gleaming with happiness as she watched her favourite Hollywood couple share a glance before laughing. Once the laughter dies down, Tom replies, “it can be the weirdest thing. One second she wants to have Jalebi and the next she wants to find some Namkeen.”
“I am the mix of sweet and savoury,” she argues instantly, making him smile as he nodded, leaning in to place a kiss on her temple, “meri khatti-meethi.”
(Y/N) merely gave him a side eye before returning her focus to their interviewer who had started her next question. “Correct me if I am wrong, but you were pregnant when you were about to finish shooting for this show, right?”
The couple nodded, prompting Bianca to continue, “did you crave anything on the set?” Before the misses could answer, Tom lets out a dramatic sigh before answering, “one fine morning, she comes to my trailer, donning her costume, and literally commands me ‘I want to have fish curry made by my mother, so talk to her, take the recipe and cook it.’ And leaves before I could nod. I was so bewildered and like what should I do.”
Everyone around them laughed loudly except for (Y/N) who glared daggers at her husband before leaning in to whisper softly into his ear.
“I want to eat Samosa.”
“Haye Bhagwaan!”
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston x desi!reader#tom Hiddleston x female reader#desi reader#pregnant reader#fem!reader#tom hiddleston imagine
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