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cordeliawhohung · 12 days

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some more pornstar!gaz where he walks into the studio with you filming with someone else. which is fine, you both work in the porn industry after all. such a shame that your co-star couldn't even get you off, though ):

Pathetic.

It was the only word that popped into Kyle’s head as he hid behind studio lights and camera men while he watched that scene unfold in front of him. There was every opportunity for that shoot to be magnificent, hell, everything had that opportunity where you were involved. Yet the man they had you paired with for that day was… subpar. Worse than that, he was useless.

Kyle watched with bored eyes as the man kept you pinned to the bed on your back with your legs around his hips. Usually Kyle was a fan of missionary, especially with you. He reveled in how he had the perfect view of your wide eyes and tense brows; how your hands always clung around his neck as if you would fall through the earth without him. It was a masterpiece he loved panting on you, yet this man was no such artist. Your hips were at a terrible angle — a pillow would have done you some good — and judging by the forced expression on your face, Kyle was right.

However, you wouldn’t have made it that far in the industry if you didn’t know how to fake it. Fake it well. Your hands still pawed at the man’s back like you couldn’t get enough of the way he pathetically pumped into you, and your moans still sang out like it was the only song you knew. You were, after all, an actress in some capacity.

Kyle knew you better than that.

Your hums and purrs were full of only a fraction of actual pleasure and passion. When he fucked you, there was always a lilt to your moans. A sweet pitchiness that he always seemed to pull out of you, especially when budding up against your cervix. You always gasped more with him too. You’d cry out and cling to him when his thumb circled around your clit or when his teeth gently sunk into the side of your shoulder. One of those days he’d eat you alive; on or off set, he didn’t care.

He could daydream about that all he wanted to, but that didn’t change the fact he was watching you get fucked by an amateur. Or at least he hoped they were an amateur. If they were a seasoned veteran still fucking women like they were lifeless sex dolls, he had a few choice words for the studio.

No matter, the torture was about to end. He could tell by the dramatic increase of the man’s grunts he was going to come soon, and Kyle nearly laughed at the relief in your face. How desperate you were, not for the man to finish, but for it all to finally end. And when he did finish, the man hardly kept the tip of his cock buried in your cunt as he gave you his spend. There was nothing deep or connecting about it; it felt like he watched a frat boy fuck some poor sorority girl rather than two adults properly make love. What a fucking waste.

Kyle could have done better.

Assistants wrapped you in a robe and whisked you off set faster than any other actress he had seen in his entire career, which almost made it even more pathetic that your co-star had to sit on the bed and take a breather. It was like your cunt had been the first drink of water he had gotten in ages, yet for you his cock had been nothing but another drop in the ocean. What made things worse, was that you didn’t even come. It was so painfully obvious, yet left completely unaddressed.

He wanted to remedy that.

One of the nice things about the studio you worked for was that they always ensured you had a place to shower after shoots, which was a godsend after that day. Annoying, sour smelling cum dripping down your thighs wasn’t exactly a feeling you wanted to savor, so you turned on the hot water as soon as you were finished. Well, as soon as your co-star had finished, anyway.

The bathroom was frigid. When they had constructed the building, it seemed as if they had prioritized more of the studio benefits rather than any sort of benefits for the actors. There was hardly any room for you to stretch your arms out in the shower, and every inch of the room was cemented in tile. But it was fine. You’d wash your body off, get the annoying sticky remains of a man you would have rather not fucked off of you, and then head home for a well deserved break.

Your break seemed further away than ever when you heard the squeaky sound of the bathroom door open just for it to close shut. Your eyes rolled as you did your best to hold back a heavy sigh. Not even a damn knock. It wasn’t uncommon for men who you shot with to follow you into the bathroom or dressing room in order to talk, which was just about as pathetic as it sounded. Most didn’t care to give you a second glance after filming, but others became rather… starstruck. You were one of the most popular female stars in that studio. Filming with you always meant big bucks.

Rather than ignoring the person who entered the room so wordlessly, you peeked behind the shower curtain with a preset glare on your face, only to be met with the sight of Kyle Garrick. A smile had already been painted onto his lips, but there was more than just friendliness behind them. There was a knowing look that nearly made you laugh.

“It seems I have a Peeping Tom,” you mused as you retreated back behind the curtain.

“You’ll be alright. I’ve already peeped more of you than what can be seen in the shower anyway,” he quipped.

There was a poor attempt made to try and hide your laughter from him, but the tile wall bounced your giggles around like a game of catch. Kyle snickered as he approached the bathroom counter and leaned against it.

“Saw you filming,” he admitted, sparking up conversation.

“Didn’t realize you were a voyeur,” you teased.

The shower turned off with a squeak as you finished your quick wash. You tore your towel off of the curtain rod before quickly drying off and wrapping your body with it before exiting. Each move was careful and calculated as you didn’t fancy slipping and cracking your head on that stupid fucking tile, but Kyle didn’t seem to mind you taking your time.

“Here for your own shoot, then?” you asked.

“I’ve got one in a bit, yeah,” he confirmed.

Humming, you approached the counter next to him where you began to rummage through your bag. If Kyle had been anyone else in the studio, you would have cussed them out and chased them out of the room within an instant. But you had grown rather close to him. You enjoyed filming with him. He was one of the few actors who could actually make you come, and you didn’t feel… gross afterwards. Luckily for you, viewers seemed to like the two of you filming together as well, so more often than not you were paired with him.

Just not that week, annoyingly enough.

“Just here to say hi, then?” you prompted.

Kyle slipped away from the counter, giving you room to set your items aside as you retrieved them from your bag, but he didn’t go far. His gaze flickered to you through the mirror before he slowly approached behind you, hands resting on your waist through the thick fabric of your towel.

“He didn’t make you come, did he?” he asked, ignoring your inquiry.

Your movements ceased as your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you. Kyle’s attention was trained on the side of your neck, and you could see the internal debate in his mind. Like he didn’t know if he should hold himself back from biting you or not.

“Was it obvious?” you asked.

“It was to me,” he answered. “All of it was. He did a piss poor job of gettin’ you off at all.”

A smirk pulled at your lips as you leaned back against him, and you felt his chest expand while his hands dipped lower. They ran along your hips, down your thighs, all the way until he reached the end of your towel where his hands then began to slide back up.

“You almost sound upset,” you teased.

“I am. It’s always a shame when pretty things like you get neglected,” he admitted, head dipping into the crook of your neck. His thumbs brushed over the underside of your bum as he pulled you further against him. “Could fix that, if you want.”

“You really were serious about getting me without the cameras, weren’t you?” you asked.

“I always keep my promises.”

Fuck. Fuck. You did want it. Wanted him. He was the only actor in that entire industry who actually seemed to know his way around a woman’s body, and it was terribly addicting. Not only was he good with his cock, but everything else. His fingers, his tongue, his words. He always had a way of getting you worked up and clenching around nothing before even touching you.

Slowly, you spun around so that you could face him, and you pressed your hands against his chest. The heavy-lidded expression on his face wasn’t a secret, but it never seemed like he tried to hide anything from you. Some sort of string bound the two of you together in a way that was more than just professional. No one else had ever followed you into the bathroom to get you off, anyway.

“It’s a shame your shoot is so soon,” you said.

Kyle’s lips twitched as you noticed his teeth dig into the side of his cheek, like he bit back words he knew he would regret. His hands lowered your towel back around your thighs, but his hands still lingered on your skin.

“Shame,” he agreed.

“But I’ll take a raincheck for when we shoot next week,” you added.

Words danced on the tip of Kyle’s tongue; things he wanted to say but couldn’t. Like how being in front of the cameras wasn’t what he had in mind. Or how he didn’t care if the taste of you lingered on his tongue when he fucked his other co-star in the next half hour. He didn’t have a bigger craving for anyone else like he had for you, but confessing that in the showers of a porn studio felt a little too on the nose.

Instead, his hands slid off of your hips as he pulled away from you with a smirk. He’d get you one day, just like he promised. He didn’t mind playing a little cat and mouse.

“I’ll be counting on it, doll.”

consider this me edging you guys, sorry not sorry

#pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #f!reader

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thedensworld · 15 days

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Your Best Man | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, established relationship

Summary: Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.

Author note: let's have a break from angsty suffering story and have some fluffywonu!

Wonwoo loves you. He loves you with all of his heart. Honestly, he loves you with all of his life. In conclusion he loves you very much. Wonwoo sat there, an empty soju glass in hand, his words flowing like the river of affection he held for you. Mingyu, realizing his friend had reached the brink of tipsiness, halted the soju parade, albeit reluctantly, knowing Wonwoo was just getting started.

"Mingyu, remember when I fell head over heels for her at first sight?" Wonwoo's tone was earnest, albeit slightly slurred, as he delved into his favorite topic, you.

Mingyu nodded, taking a break from his spicy budae jiggae to indulge Wonwoo's sentimental journey.

"She was stunning," Wonwoo continued, his gaze drifting upwards as if searching for you among the stars. "I mean, she's always been gorgeous, but back then? Wow. Even Cupid would've been jealous of my aim that day."

He chuckled, the warmth of nostalgia enveloping him as he recalled the moment fate intervened, intertwining your destinies.

"In hindsight, it's like the universe had a checklist and decided, 'Yep, these two are meant to be.' And who am I to argue with the universe, right?"

Wonwoo's laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy you brought him, even in the haze of alcohol and spicy food.

So there they sat, one lost in love and the other in a spicy stew, united in their admiration for the wonder that was you. And as Wonwoo raised his glass in a tipsy salute to your magnificence, Mingyu couldn't help but toast silently to the cosmic comedy that brought you all together. Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional soju-fueled confession.

Years ago, Wonwoo became acquainted with you through a movie he watched with Vernon. You were a rising rookie actor at the time. Fate, however, had a more direct introduction in store for him. It happened one evening by the Han River, where Wonwoo sought solace in the night air and a bowl of ramyeon, alone with his thoughts.

The tranquility was shattered by the intrusive click of a camera shutter, followed by a beam of flashlight. Initially annoyed by the presence of paparazzi, Wonwoo's irritation quickly turned to anger as he contemplated the invasion of privacy suffered by countless others in the industry.

His resolve to confront the paparazzi was cut short by a sudden thud and a groan. Rushing to the source of the commotion, Wonwoo discovered the paparazzi lying on the ground while another figure stood nearby, inspecting the camera.

"I know this is your job, but this is not right," Other person admonished, voice firm with conviction. "You've invaded someone's privacy and caused them untold discomfort. Can you even sleep at night knowing what you do?"

As the other person, you, retrieved the memory card, your eyes met Wonwoo's. In that moment of shared understanding, Wonwoo offered a thumbs-up in appreciation of your intervention, sparking a conversation between the two of you.

You explained that you recognized the paparazzi, having caught them fabricating rumors within the industry. Wonwoo nodded in solidarity, acknowledging his own frustration with such unethical practices.

"I was about to take action myself," Wonwoo admitted, shaking his head. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

And so, amidst the backdrop of the Han River, a bond formed between two strangers united by their disdain for injustice and their shared desire to protect the integrity of others. It was a chance encounter that would leave a lasting impression on both Wonwoo and you, shaping the course of their future interactions.

A conversation led to another, as late-night discussions evolved into playful banter and eventually escalated into vulnerable talks. What began as strangers connecting gradually blossomed into friendship, and then something more profound – love. Wonwoo cherished every step of the journey with you, never once regretting the decision to let you into his life. With you by his side, life seemed brighter, the shadows dissipating whenever you were together, and he couldn't shake the feeling that you were the one sent by a higher power to fill the void within him.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Wonwoo's question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and hope. When you said yes, he made a silent vow to himself to be the best man you'd ever known. He listened to your concerns, ensured you never felt pressured, and held you in the highest regard, becoming your staunchest supporter whenever your movies or dramas premiered.

Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Like any couple, Wonwoo and you faced their fair share of ups and downs. But each challenge served as a lesson, strengthening their bond and shaping them into better individuals for each other. If Wonwoo were to recount their biggest argument, it would likely be the time he recommended you to a director he knew.

Wonwoo happened to know a veteran noir movie director, a figure you admired deeply for his work. During a discussion between Wonwoo and the director at a premiere event, your name came up, sparking a conversation that would ultimately change the course of events.

"Your girlfriend is Ji Y/n, right? Her acting was exceptional in the last movie," the director remarked, his interest piqued.

"She's a huge fan of yours," Wonwoo replied. "I know it might be unconventional, but I was hoping you could consider casting her in your next project. It would mean a lot to her."

To Wonwoo's surprise, the director revealed that he was indeed seeking an actress for his upcoming movie and would be delighted if you were interested in joining the cast.

Initially, the news seemed like a dream come true. However, Wonwoo's excitement turned to concern when he received a series of missed calls from you while he was away on a business trip. Upon calling you back, he was met with the sound of your sobbing, instantly stirring worry within him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I never asked for your help with my career," you replied, your tone heavy with frustration.

Wonwoo's brow furrowed as you mentioned the director's name, realizing he had unwittingly stepped into a sensitive issue.

"I never asked you to secure a role for me in his movie, so why does everyone think I got it through a connection?" you inquired him, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wonwoo sighed, acknowledging his mistake. "I was talking to him that night, and he mentioned you—"

"He talked behind my back saying you begged him to put me into the cast."

"I never asked for that!" you continued, your frustration evident.

"I know," Wonwoo conceded, regret weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He didn't say what you think he did."

Feeling hurt and misunderstood, you ended the call abruptly, leaving Wonwoo with a sinking feeling in his chest. Acting swiftly, he instructed his manager to drive him to your place, determined to resolve the misunderstanding before it escalated further.

Wonwoo entered your apartment well past midnight, his fatigue from a long day's schedule overshadowed by the weight of guilt gnawing at him. Upon seeing you seated on the couch, head bowed in distress, he felt a pang of remorse pierce through him.

"What did he say to you?" Wonwoo inquired gently, his voice laden with concern as he approached you.

"It doesn't matter what he said," you replied, your tone laced with frustration. "What matters is that you overstepped by asking him to cast me in his movie! I want to build my career on my own terms, and I want people to recognize that."

Wonwoo knelt in front of you, seeking to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his remorse evident. "I just thought—since you admire his work—it would be a good opportunity. I didn't anticipate this outcome."

A heavy silence hung between you before you confessed the truth. "I walked away from the role midway through filming. I couldn't bear to work with someone who talk trash their talent like that."

Wonwoo nodded understandingly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I understand," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts. "You did what felt right for you."

As you feared, rumors began to circulate in the weeks following the announcement of your departure from the movie. Speculations about your connections within the industry surfaced, casting a shadow over your hard-earned reputation. Yet through it all, Wonwoo stood by your side, offering unwavering support and reassurance.

He knew the truth, and that was enough for him. Together, you weathered the storm of gossip, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. For Wonwoo, there was no greater reward than seeing you stand firm in your convictions, unyielding in the face of adversity. And as long as you had each other, no amount of speculation could tarnish the bond you shared.

Years later, you and Wonwoo went public with your marriage, and he was grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback you both received. The wedding was an intimate affair, attended only by close family and colleagues. For Wonwoo, it marked the culmination of his journey to become the best man you'd ever known, now leveled up to become the best husband himself.

He found joy in the simple moments of life, relishing in the comfort of sleeping and waking up beside you each day. To the surprise of his fellow members, who often referred to him as the prince by his fans, Wonwoo had embraced domesticity wholeheartedly. Learning to cook, clean, give massages, and take on any task that arose became second nature to him, especially during your pregnancy with your firstborn, Jeon Jihan.

Now, at five years old, Jihan possessed a strong will of his own, often refusing to hold hands with Wonwoo when being taken to daycare. Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder whose attitude Jihan had inherited—though deep down, he knew it was undoubtedly from you. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen Wonwoo's love for you and his son. He cherished every moment spent with his family, grateful for the love and happiness they brought into his life.

One day, while Wonwoo was away on tour and Jihan was just two years old, he heard from his fellow members that the women—referred to as "their girls"—had gathered at Seungcheol's wife's place. Concerned for your well-being, Wonwoo immediately called you to check in.

"Are you joining them?" he asked, his worry palpable over the phone line.

"Will you bring Jihan?" he added, mindful of your responsibilities as a parent.

"Of course, he can't take care of himself," came your sarcastic reply.

Wonwoo chuckled at your dry humor. "But didn't you say our car broke down yesterday?"

"I'll find a solution, don't worry about it, darling!" you reassured him.

However, after the concert, Wonwoo discovered from Seungcheol himself that you had ridden his bike to their place—with Jihan in tow. Not a word of this had come from you. Frustration and disbelief churned in Wonwoo's chest as he made a call to you.

"How could you ride a bike with our child being that young?" he demanded, his tone edged with concern.

"Jihan loves it!" you countered, sending a photo taken by another woman at a traffic light, showing Jihan smiling while securely attached to your front.

Wonwoo facepalmed with his hand, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You could have endangered both of you and Jihan. You're not allowed to ride my bike again!"

It wasn't that Wonwoo doubted your skill—you had been riding bikes for years, a shared passion that had drawn you both together. However, the idea of riding a bike with your child had never crossed his mind, nor did he ever imagine you would consider it. The incident led to his members labeling him as a "gangster husband," a nickname stemming from your unconventional lifestyle and characters in the movies.

"So what's the matter now, hyung? You said you're okay, you love her, you'll support her no matter what. Then what's with the change of heart?" Mingyu confronted drunken Wonwoo.

Wonwoo clumsily put down his glass, "You're not married, Mingyu. You won't understand my pain!" he declared, slurring his words as Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement.

Without missing a beat, Mingyu dialed your number. "Hello, Y/n! Did you miss your husband already? He's being a pain in my ass tonight. Should I take him home?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened in panic as he realized what Mingyu was up to, but his drunken attempts to grab Mingyu's phone proved futile.

"Just the usual babbling about his undying love for you and some other nonsense. I'll be there in 20, okay? Bye!" Mingyu announced cheerfully before hanging up.

"No! I don't wanna go home! I don't wanna face her like this," Wonwoo protested dramatically, his words slurred as he tried to resist Mingyu's attempts to escort him home.

Mingyu sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This hyung..." he muttered, resigning himself to the task of dragging a stubborn and intoxicated Wonwoo back to the safety of your arms.

"Where's Jihan?" Wonwoo groaned, nursing his pounding head while seated at the dining table, his breakfast being served by you. The mere act of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task.

You shrugged casually, "Someone woke him up last night, and he ended up staying up late. He's still asleep."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed, knowing full well that the culprit was none other than himself. Yet, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction to Jihan's extended slumber. "He's not going to daycare today?"

You shook your head, taking a seat across from him. "I'm free today, except for my ballet class at 4. Your mom wants to see Jihan, so I'll be taking him to your parents' place before then."

The mention of your ballet class jogged Wonwoo's memory of his conversation with Mingyu the night before. "You're still taking ballet classes?"

You set down your utensils and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Yes," you confirmed firmly. "And Mingyu filled me in on your little chat last night."

Wonwoo grumbled, "I'll punch him later," before offering a weak smile in your direction.

"I've decided to take the role no matter what, darling. It'll be my first-ever romcom movie," you declared, determination shining in your eyes.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, his headache worsening at the thought. "That's the problem, babe. I'm just not ready for that!" he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of panic.

"What are you not ready for?" you queried, raising an eyebrow as Wonwoo stretched his hands and gestured vaguely.

"All the lovey-dovey stuff you'll have to do in the movie! Kissing, hugging, and acting all smiley with other men—I'm just not prepared for that!" Wonwoo exclaimed, his expression a mix of concern and discomfort.

You scoffed, "I thought we were done talking about this. I asked for your opinion, remember? If you don't want me to take the role, I won't. But you said your opinion doesn't matter as long as I'm happy, and I'm more than happy to challenge myself with this role."

Wonwoo nodded solemnly. "I know, but that was before I found out about the intimate scenes like kissing and hugging!"

You nodded understandingly. "You're right. And besides, you're the only man who can kiss and hug me like that."

Wonwoo sighed, relenting slightly. "Just kiss me three more times every day, and I'll pretend like nothing happened," he bargained, a hint of resignation in his voice. After all, he is your best man, right?

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artsekey · 4 months

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Disney's Wish

Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.

It’s just…kind of okay.

When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:

The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.

Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--

I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.

First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.

So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?

Act I

In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in “Welcome to Rosas”). She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.

Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.

As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.

Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.

… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.

This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”

This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.

Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?

While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too! Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.

So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.

Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:

Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.

... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.

What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.

But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.

In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.

While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.

Act II:

His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).

But then… he opens the book.

Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.

I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.

This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”

It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.

But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.

Act III

Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?

It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.

They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.

I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.

Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.

The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.

This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.

All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.

Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.

What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.

Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.

#wish #disney #review #magnifico

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monzamash · 1 year

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ruin the friendship — charles leclerc

summary – maybe you were a little more than friends but that was between you, charles and god. nobody else. and you refused to be the one to break the pact. pairing – charles leclerc x you (female reader) rating – 18+ (smut, language, sexual references, probably bad french/italian) word count – 2.5k a/n – “we passed being friends like 20 fucks ago” requested by anon. thank you! masterlist

“Everybody get changed for dinner and we will meet downstairs at the restaurant in an hour. Le Bein?”

The group of nearly a dozen of Charles’ co-workers, employees and friends all nodded in agreement and went their separate ways in the foyer, buzzing about how beautiful the resort was. And it was truly magnificent. Extravagance fortified every wall, even the ceilings. Chandeliers dangling from the rafters above, sparkling and flaunting the huge amount of wealth that was stashed away in the Italian Alps. Eye-watering amounts of wealth.

You weren’t enamoured like the rest because simplicity was more your taste, minimalist living was the way of the future and you weren’t afraid to voice that to Charles as he walked up beside you, eyes trained on your rolling ones. His hand was dangerously hovering above your lower back, the large puffy jacket the only thing keeping his hot touch barricaded from your cool skin – he couldn’t help himself.

“It’s over the top but Ferrari is paying for all of it,” He whispered into your ear, too close for your comfort, especially around his brothers who were no doubt watching your every move – adamantly sceptical that you and Charles were just friends.

“I should report you for misuse of company funds, sir. And if anyone from work asks why I was here when we get back next week – it was a coincidence. Purely happenstance.”

“Si,” Charles drawlled, toggling between his native tongue and Italian, which always threw you off, “You coming up to my room after dinner will just be some luck too, yes?”

You could hear the smirk on his face before you let your eyes glance his way, breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck and again, standing way too close for a pair of colleagues who, by chance, had accidentally found themselves in the same place, at the same time. That was the story and you were sticking with it. Unfortunately Charles was a horrible actor – that much was obvious since the moment he sparked up this unlikely romance with you but in his defence, his impulses were intensified after weeks of being away from you. And you felt the same.

The relationship wasn't exclusive by any stretch of the imagination in the beginning, but as time went on, you became loyal to each other. The friends with benefits label was a facade for the public and for your employment but deep down, you both knew there was more to your relationship than just sex. You knew each other so intimately and spent hours staying up ‘til dawn, sharing your deepest, darkest secrets. He made you feel safe, like you were more than just a girl who happened to work for the same company he worked for. It was easy to get swept up in the lavish lifestyle and reap the benefits that came with it but Charles saw you differently – saw life differently. And to him, you were the missing piece to his puzzle.

You were friends’ first – great friends but he was charming and by far the most attractive man you’d ever laid your two eyes on. And by some miracle, he felt the same way about you. But all of that meant your friendship had been compromised, your working relationship was hanging in the balance because if either of you caught feelings and made them public, then you’d have to report it to HR and you didn’t want to lose what you had.

Because sneaking around was kind of hot. Or really hot if you asked Charles and you didn’t want to burst his bubble. You weren’t that selfish and truth be told, you enjoyed the thrill of it. The secret glances from across a table when you were supposed to be taking notes, subtle touches whenever he complimented your suggestions in a meeting and riskiest of all, the quick fucks in his drivers’ room between qualifying blocks. That had unabashedly become a perk of your job and a scandal waiting to be blown wide open but you loved it.

“I think it might just be your lucky day, Leclerc,” You replied and looked away from the man who was seconds away from exposing your secret, calling off dinner and dragging you up to his room for dessert. But he was better than that and obviously he could control himself for a couple more hours. Surely.

“See you soon then.”

He looked like a man tortured when you walked into the restaurant, all of your glorious curves swaying side to side, eyes on everyone but him. Since simplicity was your style, you’d gone classic – long, black satin skirt hiding the stilettos you wished you didn’t have to wear, paired with a black blazer and a white, lacy bustier top underneath. It was a fancy establishment, which meant everyone was done up to the nines, their best attire on display and you were pleasantly surprised that Charles hadn't caved to the pressure of appearances, marching to the beat of his own drum in a basic black tee. He still looked as delicious as the aperitini he’d already ordered for you, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“For me?” You asked him politely, feigning surprise even though these were the little things he would do for you in place of physical touch.

“Of course.” He smiled, delighted that you took the seat directly across from him and not the one being offered to you by his annoying younger brother.

You are beautiful, he mouthed once everyone returned to their 'round the table small talk. You are. Charles had you blushing and fidgeting with your thin gold chain, as if it was first time he'd ever said that to you. It wasn't but it still had you squirming in your seat, grinning like a lunatic.

The 3-course dinner was sensational, and more than satisfied the hunger you’d conjured up during your long day on the slopes and Charles agreed wholeheartedly. He had also worked up quite the appetite retrieving you from the snow every time you stacked it, brushing the ice from your suit and cheeks, lingering longer than he should have. It was great fun but famishing once you all made it back to the resort.

“All my training has gone down the drain after that meal – my god.” Charles groaned and patted Andrea on the back with a mischievous smile, taunting his trainer and closest confidante. Andrea simply shook his head and muttered something to the effect of vaffanculo before disappearing into the bar with the others, sick of Charles' shit after being stuck with him in the Dolomites for the last 3 weeks.

You and Charles hung back from the group, both waiting for the other to send up the bat signal, or in your case, holding up the three-finger salute. Your first solo hang out – not a date – with Charles was watching the Hunger Games together, snuggled up with a glass of wine. Ever since, your signal to abort mission had been the sign used in that film and more recently it’d become your gesture for sex. Would you have liked it to be a little more sexy? Sure but it did the job.

“People are going to miss you, ma belle,” Charles whispered between the soft kisses he was sloppily pressing to your trembling lips, backing you against the only blank wall in the room.

“Don’t care.” You rasped, moans caught in your dry throat as you felt a pair of cold hands unzipping the long silk skirt you’d worn to dinner and gliding it down your shaky legs like it was as light as a feather.

A small gasp slipped from your lips as you caught Charles’ dark eyes again, his soft laugh fanning warmth across your face, "All I've been able to think about tonight is this..." He stammered off with a smirk before running his hands down your sides, pushing the thin blazer off your shoulders and gaining full access to the length of your neck.

You moaned quietly and brushed your dainty fingers through his soft, dark brown locks, "It's all I've wanted since we got here," You whispered and rested your head back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his hands smoothing down your to your ass.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Charles growled against the tops of your breasts that were being pushed up by the tight bustier top, leaving you breathless and shaky under his touch. He got off on having complete control over your body, especially like this – desperate and panting for him in the darkness.

Charles dropped down to his knees and pushed his hands up under the hem of your top so he could access the waistband of your panties. You were spellbound now with your eyes closed and heart thumping in your chest, head dizzy and skin sizzling as he trailed his hands down your thighs, gliding your flimsy underwear down far enough that you could step out of them without needing to look.

"So sexy." Charles groaned at the sight of the dark red lace that had been hidden by your skirt, his hot breath now fanning over your shaky legs that were now completely bare and exposed to the cool air, even though your were burning up, "Le rouge n'a jamais été aussi beau." Red never looked so good.

His large hands gripped you thighs and roughly separated them in front of his mouth, every single little movement riling you up even more. Charles was ravenous, hungry to devour your after hours of deprivation – starved of your taste, of his name falling from your lips. He needed it, needed you to sing his praises, beg him for more and you never disappointed.

Your fingers brushed back up the side of his head as he hooked your leg over his shoulder and buried his tongue between your thighs, sending you into overdrive and taking your breath away. Your hands instantaneously gripped the tuft of brown waves on top of his head, trying to control the moans that were threatening to escape your chapped lips, his fingers doing the work of a maestro, orchestrating your body like a symphony.

"Feels so good," You whined as Charles grunted, mouth still attached to your cunt as he readjusted your leg on his strong, muscular shoulder, deepening the achingly perfect angle even further and making your already shaky legs start to tremble with pleasure.

Charles took your sensitive clit between his teeth, gently and pressed his free hand that wasn't clutching your thigh to your stomach, balancing you as best he could as you uncontrollably bucked your hips, riding his perfectly flat tongue. You placed your smaller hand over his and arched into his face, trying to alleviate the knot building in the pit of your stomach. He felt so fucking good and looked even better when you did dare open your eyes, peering down into his sinful ones.

The small smirk that appeared on Charles’ dimpled cheeks when your gaze met his was enough to send you spiralling into a whimpering mess, unable to stop the loud moan that ripped from your constricted throat – you were getting closer with every single teasing stoke he gave you, his thick fingers fucking you into a blackout and you were losing it. He muffled a laugh and didn't relent one bit as you white knuckled his wrist, attempting to hold in the noises that were so close to escaping, jaw clenched.

"I wanna hear you, bella – let me hear you," Charles panted as he glanced up and continued to taunt you, “I want to hear you moaning for me like this for the rest of my fucking life.”

Even in your orgasmic haze, you furrowed your already rutted brows at his comment, head throw back, still whimpering, “Friends don’t say that to each other, Charles.” You breathed, gliding on his unrelenting fingers, his pace slowing as he processed your words.

Charles scoffed and pulled back from your pulsing core, eyes trained on yours as he pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh, voice hoarse. “I think we passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago, baby. You don’t have to pretend when it’s just you and me.”

It took you a second until you nodded silently, agreeing that you didn’t need to keep the act up with him. You brushed your fingers that had been knotted in his thick, beautiful hair, down the sides of his glistening face, lips raw and looking like a mirage.

“I like it when it’s just you and me.”

If you blinked, you thought he may disappear from your vision but he made sure you knew he was real, kitten licking your sensitive bud and reassuring you that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“Me too.” He whispered.

It didn’t take long for Charles to resume his toe-curling assault, sending every nerve in your system into lockdown as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He’d put both of your feet on the ground, thighs spread as far as they go so you could ride his face, insisting that you came like that for him. The feeling of having every breath suppressed from his lungs while you let yourself go on his tongue, fingernails clawing at the skin on your thighs was worth the rush of blood to his brain. His face was beet-red, pupils blown out and he was achingly hard, scared he was going to blow in his pants like a prepubescent teen.

"Oh my fucking god, Charles," You moaned loudly as he reached up and pressed his palm firmly on your flushed chest, needing to feel your heart thumping under your skin, making him feel alive.

"I've got you."

"I'm – baby, I’m right there!" You cried out, head thrown back against the wall again as Charles eased you through your earth shattering high, panting and sweltering under his touch.

Loud moans echoed through the hotel room as he lapped up everything you had to give, holding you in place and making sure you were completely satisfied before removing his shaky fingers and pressing a couple of pecks to your reddening thighs – no doubt leaving bruises from his tight grip. You couldn’t wait to feel those small reminders of his touch in the morning. It took a good couple of seconds for your mind and body to float back down from the clouds above and god, it was a gorgeous sight when you did come to.

"You are so good at that," You breathed as Charles used your hips to drag himself up off the carpeted floor, hands still clutching your waist to also keep your knees from buckling. He knew you too well.

The sensation of his swollen lips kissing yours brought you back and without hesitation, you hooked your arms over his shoulders and deepened the kiss. His hands snaked around your lower back, bodies flush and you could finally feel how hard he was underneath his trousers.

Knowing Charles was that turned on from making you feel ethereal triggered a proud smirk to sweep across your flushed face, “Would you like some help with this, friend?” You teased, reaching down for the button on his pants, flicking it open with ease.

“It’s what friends are for, no?” He cockily replied before you clutched his stiff cock in your palm, causing him to gasp at the sensation.

“Absolutely would love your help – thank you very much,” Charles quickly added, desperate for your attention as he captured your lips in a rough kiss and nudged your body towards his messy bed.

“That’s what I thought,” You chuckled into the kiss, letting him cash in every single benefit he could imagine. All night long.

let me know what you think!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #f1 one shot #formula one #formula 1 imagine #monzamashmasterlist #monzamashprompts #f1 smut

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pinaybelieber · 7 months

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One of the things I love about RWRB movie is how Matthew incorporated his background in directing a playwright. Have you realized that this scene in the video is a one long shot scene? From the moment Alex stepped out of the room where Ellen is writing her concession speech to the moment right before they both hugged when she was announced as the reelected president (on mark 1:26 before it was cut to another frame of Alex & Ellen hugging). Everything was taken in a single shot!

In theater plays, actors have to memorize every line and be precise with their body language, facial expressions and how they move around the stage. If they mess up one thing, they can't undo it or ask for another take especially in front of a live audience.

And that's what exactly happened here, it makes you feel that you're watching a play instead of a movie! It makes you appreciate the actors more especially Taylor and Nick.

Look at how Taylor showed Alex's stress and anxiety as he walked off. And then Nick comes into the frame as Henry who immediately held Alex's hand, put his other hand on Alex's arm in a protective mode, checked his face, and brought him somewhere private so his boyfriend can breathe and share what's bothering him.

Alex was so stressed that he failed to notice Henry's tie, not until Henry mentioned it. Look closely at how his emotions changed. Watching Henry make an effort to put a smile on his face made him fall in love all over again to this man. And the sigh of relief when they hugged? Ugh, magnificent!

Everything was well executed. The timing is right and perfect! This movie keeps on giving even after how many times I've watched it.

I pointed out another one long shot scene at Alex's bedroom here if you're interested to read more scene breakdowns from me.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #rwrb #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #hrh prince henry #matthew lopez

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humansofnewyork · 10 months

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“I was walking down Broadway with my friend from China. Everyone kept waving at me, and saying: ‘Hi John, Hi John.’ And my friend said: ‘Wow. Everyone knows you!’ I said: ‘C’mon. That’s an exaggeration.’ Right then the door to the Imperial Theatre opened up, and it was an actor friend. He gave me the biggest hug. I said: ‘OK, maybe it’s not an exaggeration.’ Everyone does know me. I’ve been dancing for almost seventy years. It didn’t run in my family. My father was a subway motorman. But when I was sixteen I signed up for lessons with a famous Russian ballet dancer. She was a little lady; told me that I danced like a lobster. Not exactly encouraging, but when I came down the stairs after my first lesson, Eartha Kitt was waiting in the lobby. Not that she was waiting for me; it was for someone else. But I saw it as a sign. I thought: ‘I’m on my way.’ A few months later I made my debut dancing to bagpipes at the Scottish Highland Festival. Then after that I got a gig at the Wine and Cheese Festival. And I never stopped. I wasn’t good enough to do it full time. I had to work as a Spanish teacher for thirty-three years. I was competent; my kids did well on the tests. But I wouldn’t say I was beloved. And when your name is Mr. Bate, the kids are going to call you Masturbate. It’s unavoidable. But each day when that 2:42 bell rang after eighth period; I got on a train and headed to my second life. I’ve danced it all. I was a flamenco dancer. I learned Afro-Haitian, Afro-Cuban, Afro-Brazilian. I danced in the Sambadrome during Carnival. I danced with an Appalachian clogging company. I’ve danced in every major theater on Broadway. My specialty was screwing up the choreography. I’ve actually heard audience members say: ‘Oh no, not him again.’ But I always figured out a way to work. I’ve played every kind of character role. I’ve played Von Rothbart, the evil magician. I’ve played Nutcracker. But the role I loved best was Handsome Haldor. He was a total flop. But in his mind, he was the most magnificent man in the entire kingdom.”

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savagewildnerness · 14 days

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I’ve never met Sam, but he did photobomb me once!

I wish I wasn’t such a shy, reserved person, as I adored Sam in this play, but it took ALL of my energy to get myself to get a photo with just the incredible Shirley Henderson (even though I’d seen the play probably 10-15 times at this point. I utterly ADORED it & everyone in it.) I am SO scared of being annoying! You do not understand how much it took for me to build myself up to get a photo & autograph from just the ONE human! Gosh, Shirley was insanely great in this play! Like you couldn’t take your eyes off her magnificence! And the emotion in how she sang: I can feel it just as strongly in my heart right now still.

Anyway, I was too scared & incapable of speaking to everyone/too afraid to be annoying to more than one human! So I didn’t get an autograph or photo with Sam or anyone else in the play.

However, I noticed that there is Sam, in the background here!! Teehee! He was SO un-Lestat back then! But the character he played in this play had a tragedy to him. As did all the characters in the play. It was such a yearning play. Sam played a young man who had so much potential (in life & love), yet squandered it till he was doomed to tragedy… and how realistic is that to reality! I feel (& am) that. Everyone tended towards satisfying, resonant, true, beautiful & sorrowful tragedy & there was never any other conclusion. Gosh, I ADORED it! And THE MUSIC! But music with all the resonance folk who are actors first can give it.

Honestly I would give ANYTHING to experience this play, especially incredible Shirley just one more time. It’s in my top 5 plays ever. It’s an awful photo of me, as even on my 15th watch of the play, I had spent the entire 2-3 hours sobbing! It was SO SAD! I cried just as much every single time I watched it.

Also, LOL - you know you’re short when Shirley Henderson crouches for a photo with you!!! Look at us, like wee gnomes, with normal human-sized Sam in the background! 😂😅😂🤣😭💀

#girl from the north country #sam reid #shirley henderson #Conor McPherson #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #anne rice #the vampire lestat #iwtv lestat #amc interview with the vampire

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warabidakihime · 11 months

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Vicious Deceptions

Character: Actor!Toji Fushiguro x Actress!Reader | hollywood au Synopsis: Cunning minds entwined, weaving a web of treachery and desire. In a world of secrets and hidden intentions, their love became a tapestry of vicious deceptions.

Content warning: adultery, smut, profanities. minors dni.

- The news of their movie's blockbuster success spread like wildfire, the anticipation for the sequel soared to new heights. You, a renowned actress, and Toji Fushiguro, a fellow confident and cool-headed actor, found yourselves in the midst of a script reading session with your co-stars in preparations for the shooting that will be commencing in three days.

As you delved into your script, you couldn't help but feel a flush creep up your cheeks when Toji, sitting beside you, subtly scooted closer. His mischievous grin hinted at something beyond the innocent facade you both presented to the world. Toji, holding his own script, pointed to a particular scene, one that seemed to spark a glimmer in his eyes.

"It seems we have a rather steamy shower scene coming up," Toji remarked, his voice laced with boldness and anticipation. He knew precisely how to push your buttons, and he relished in the playful banter you shared.

Your eyes widened momentarily, betraying your own interest in the intimate scene. You quickly composed yourself and responded with a clever retort, your voice dripping with a mix of innocence and intrigue. "Quit acting as if this will be your first time doing a shower sex scene."

Toji chuckled, his gaze locked with yours. "I'm not. If anything, I'm expressing my excitement. I can't wait to shoot this scene with you, Y/N. Can't wait to smack that ass of yours in front of everybody."

"Focus on your script," you say, and for some reason, that was enough to satiate your big brute of a leading man.

Your exchanges danced on the fine line between professional camaraderie and subtle seduction. Only the two of you were aware of the charged undercurrent, concealed from your co-stars, the staff, and the prying eyes of the media.

As the script reading continued, you and Toji found yourselves engaged in insightful conversations that seamlessly intertwined with your characters' dynamics. You traded witty banter, your words carrying double meanings that hinted at a deeper connection. Your interactions sparked curiosity among those around you, whispering of an off-screen chemistry that exceeded the boundaries of your roles.

In the midst of the script reading, your gazes would occasionally meet, exchanging unspoken promises and shared secrets. The tantalizing prospect of bringing your hidden desires to life on the silver screen left both of you eager for the upcoming shoot.

As the script reading session came to a close, the bustling energy of the studio began to subside. The other cast members bid their farewells, disappearing into the corridors one by one. With a gentle smile, you excused yourself, knowing that a whirlwind of magazine shoots and interviews awaited you.

Slipping away from the crowd, you found Toji Fushiguro waiting, his expression a mix of mischief and anticipation.

Glancing around to ensure no prying eyes lingered, you approached Toji with a knowing glint in your eye. "See you later. Text me."

Toji smirked. "So bossy."

You rolled your eyes in response to his teasing, and that earned you a chuckle from him and a resigned sigh, "I know, I know. You know where to find me anyway; I gave you the passcode to my other penthouse, right?"

Now, he earned a chuckle from you, a sultry one at that: "Of course you did. Now, good bye. Let's talk later."

With one last lingering gaze, you both went your separate ways, diving headfirst into the demands of your bustling schedules. The weeks flew by in a whirlwind of commitments, each day bringing you closer to the highly anticipated live premiere of your movie.

The red carpet was rolled out, leading to the magnificent entrance of the premiere venue. Cameras flashed incessantly, capturing the glamorous affair that unfolded before them. And there you stood, resplendent in an elegant yet alluring gown that accentuated your every curve. Every step you took exuded confidence and grace.

Toji, on the other hand, exuded an air of dashing charm in his impeccably tailored suit. His shaggy hair, tamed and styled, gave him a ruggedly handsome appeal. As the crowd caught sight of you, whispers of admiration rippled through the air. It was impossible to ignore the captivating presence the two of you emanated.

Walking the red carpet together, your co-stars joined you, each person radiating their own unique charm. As the cameras flashed, interviews ensued, capturing the excitement and anticipation surrounding the film. The atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the combined energy of the cast, the crew, and the devoted fans.

Among the crowd, your husband stood by your side as your plus one, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by Toji. A hint of disappointment, jealousy, and annoyance flickered in his eyes, swiftly masked by a dashing smile. You promised Toji that you would divorce your husband to finally be with him, but due to both of you and your husband's schedules and other personal commitments, it's taking you quite a while to fulfill your promise.

Engaging in light banter with your husband, you navigated the sea of well-wishers and photographers, stealing occasional glances at Toji.

Toji, ever the charmer, mingled effortlessly with the guests and media alike. His charismatic personality seemed to magnetize those around him, leaving a trail of smiles and laughter in his wake. The whispers of his irresistible allure danced through the air, amplifying the excitement surrounding the film's premiere.

As the evening progressed, the time came for the cast and crew to take their seats inside the opulent theater. The anticipation grew, building up to the moment when the lights would dim and the film would grace the silver screen.

Taking your assigned seat, you found yourself seated next to Toji, the proximity creating an intoxicating tension. With a hushed voice, he leaned toward you, his words barely audible above the hum of the crowd. "It's a shame, isn't it? Our characters share such undeniable chemistry on screen, yet the same can't be said for our off-screen circumstances."

You turned to him, meeting his gaze while subtly grabbing his hands and intertwining your fingers together. With a charming smile on your face, you gave Toji a reply, "Patience, Toji. In the eyes of the public, I may belong to someone else, but between us, I'm yours and only yours."

Toji pouts uncharacteristically, but apparently, when he's with you, he keeps on discovering new sides to him that he didn't know existed. "Divorce the doofus already."

You chuckled, "The movie's on. Let's enjoy the fruits of our hard work for now, shall we?"

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the film. As the familiar opening sequence unfolded, the tension between your characters came alive on screen, fueling the excitement and anticipation of the audience. And as you watched the story unfold, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you and Toji, both on and off the silver screen.

The film captured the hearts of viewers, transporting them into a world of magic, danger, and forbidden desires. The undeniable chemistry between your characters reverberated through the theater, leaving the audience captivated and breathless. It was a testament to the dedication and talent of everyone involved in the project.

After the exhilarating premiere, the theater was abuzz with excitement and celebration. The cast, crew, and industry insiders mingled, reveling in the success of the film. Among the crowd, you caught Toji's gaze, his eyes glinting mischievously.

With a smirk on his face, he leaned against a nearby wall, watching as you excused yourself from the group. Your husband, caught up in conversation with your co-stars, remained oblivious to the brewing storm between you and your leading man.

You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness as you reached out to grasp Toji's hand. "Toji, I need a moment. Come with me," you whispered, your voice laced with a hint of urgency and desire.

He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? And just what the heck are you up to?"

Not really having the time to beat around the bush, you pulled him towards you rather assertively, saying, "Just come with me."

With your hand firmly in his, you guided Toji through the maze of hallways until you reached your dressing room. The anticipation hung thick in the air as you stepped inside, the door closing behind you, except you failed to close it all the way.

So whatever moment you'll be having with Toji, it can be easily detected by anyone who passes by the area.

Without wasting a moment, you settled on top of your vanity table, your gaze fixed on Toji with a sultry intensity. His eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and excitement dancing within them, as he realized the intent behind your actions.

You beckoned him closer, your legs wrapping securely around his waist and drawing him in. The intimate contact sent a jolt of electricity through both of you as you felt his arms encircle your body, his touch both possessive and tender.

In the charged silence, Toji's voice broke through, filled with a mix of anticipation and mischief. "What if somebody walks in on us?"

He says that, but he's already leaning toward your inviting lips while his other hand is holding the zipper of your gown. Wasting no time, you wrapped your arms around his neck and reeled him in for a heated kiss, holding little to no regard to the possibility of getting caught. Of course, Toji was more than happy to oblige and responded to your advances enthusiastically.

In that intimate space, you both embraced the reckless abandon of the moment, knowing that the world outside those walls could never comprehend the intensity of your connection.

"Toji--" you moaned in his mouth as you felt his grabby hands caressing your sides and squeezing your supple skin. In return, you slide your hands up and down his sturdy chest, shamelessly feeling his abs through his silky dress shirt.

Toji's husky voice contributed to the music being made in that tiny room as he spoke, "You picked this skimpy dress to tease me, didn't you?"

"Did it work?" you responded cheekily, which earned you a dark chuckle from him.

"I wanted nothing more than to bend you over and take you right there and then, the moment I saw you emerge from your limousine."

"What stopped you?" You asked him

"Your husband killed my boner. I didn’t even know you were bringing him along."

You let out a sultry chuckle as you began to grind your hips against his, purposefully tempting his flaccid cock to spring back to life. "We can't have that now, can we?"

A wicked smile played on Toji's lips, reveling in your audacious nature and feeling his desire grow stronger. "Absolutely not."

In the dimly lit room, Toji and you shed your clothes with an eager urgency. Every garment fell to the floor, revealing your naked bodies to each other. Your eyes locked, filled with desire and longing. You closed the distance between you, your bodies pressing together.

The heat of your skin ignited a fire within, intensifying the need for each other. There were no inhibitions, only the raw passion that enveloped the room.

Your hands explored, fingers tracing every curve and dip, igniting shivers of pleasure. Each touch sent waves of electricity through your bodies, heightening the intensity of your desire. Time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull between you.

Breathless and desperate for more, you locked eyes with him, pleading silently for him to take you to greater heights of pleasure.

"Please, Toji," you whimpered, your voice filled with need.

Toji's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he reveled in the power he held over you. His voice dripped with playful teasing as he responded, "What's the magic word?"

The teasing only fueled your need, making the anticipation unbearable. But you knew deep down that the wait would be worth it and that Toji's mastery of seduction would lead to a culmination of ecstasy unlike anything you had experienced before.

"Toji~ I don't have time for this."

The man towering over you could only chuckle in amusement, "You're such a brat."

Despite what he said, he immediately adhered to your request and placed his throbbing cock at your entrance, and then he slowly let himself in, filling you nicely and snugly.

Each thrust felt more incredible than the last. The sensations overwhelmed you, evident in the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips and the expression of bliss on your face.

You continued to cling to Toji as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. Moans, profanities, and loads of skin-slapping filled your tiny dressing room. You were so lost in your little world that you didn't even notice your horrified husband watching from outside.

Normally, you would have been filled with a sense of horror and embarrassment, but an unexplained boldness washed over you. Instead of feeling shame or shock, you met your husband's gaze with a cold, unwavering expression.

Toji was right. It’s high time you end things with your husband and finally be with him. You made a mental note to yourself that, after this, you would deal with your husband once and for all. Time seemed to stretch as your husband continued to look at you and Toji, his eyes widening with surprise, and you could've sworn you saw tears stream down his face.

Obviously heartbroken by your blatant betrayal, but you remained undeterred, focusing solely on Toji and continuing to lavish him with your undivided attention. With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you even went so far as to put on a captivating display.

Toji, relishing in the audacity and allure emanating from you, embraced the opportunity to escalate the intensity of the moment.

A sly grin spread across Toji's face as he relished in your pleasure, his voice dripping with seduction. "Tell me, Y/N, who's making you feel good right now? Hmm? Answer me." Your response was a fervent moan that escaped your lips.

"It's you."

A teasing glint danced in Toji's eyes as he continued to ravish you, his voice laced with desire. "And what's my name, darling?"

"Toji," you moaned, your voice filled with a mix of desire and anticipation.

Toji rewarded your response with a playful smack on your behind, eliciting another intoxicating sound from you. "Good girl."

That was the last straw.

With a shake of his head, your husband left the scene, but none of you were in the mood to care as the both of you were so invested in each other.

Toji's voice was filled with desire as he commented, "You're still so tight for me. Fuck."

You were unable to form coherent words in response, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Your focus was solely on the sensations coursing through your body, leaving little room for anything else.

He ran his hands along your sides, igniting shivers and goosebumps along your skin. "You're doing so well," he praised, his touch adding to the intensity of the moment. The pleasure was building rapidly, and then finally, that hot coil you've been feeling from within shot throughout your body, sending you into overdrive.

To enhance your climax, Toji increased the pace, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Every movement brought you closer to a mind-numbing state of ecstasy.

Later that night, after a few more rounds of fucking like bitches in heat, Toji drove you home, a satisfied and triumphant smile adorning his face. The energy between you two was still electric, and the intensity of the night lingered in the air.

Upon entering the house, you were met with a somber sight. Your husband sat on the sofa, hunched over, his body language reflecting the weight of his emotions. It was clear that he had been drinking and crying.

For a few seconds, you observed him, your expression carrying a hint of nonchalance, almost bordering on cruelty. The weight of your decision lingered in the air, as you knew what you needed to do.

Without uttering a word, you made your way to your bedroom and retrieved the divorce papers, carefully tucked away inside your side of the closet. Each step you took echoed with determination, your mind resolute in your course of action.

Returning to the living room, you stood before your husband, holding the papers in your hand. With a deliberate motion, you tossed the document in his direction, the papers fluttering through the air like a final decree. Your voice carried an air of finality as you spoke, "It already has my signature on it. I trust that you will have it signed by tomorrow. Good night."

With those words hanging in the air, you turned away, leaving your husband to grapple with the weight of your crumbling marriage.

#warabidakihime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk headcanons #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagine #i guess you could consider this as dark content?

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bonkhrnyjail · 3 months

Text

sweet plum | chapter three

masterlist | pinterest board

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)

warnings: depictions of anxiety, drinking, nicotine use

summary: it's the final day of filming, and you go out to celebrate with your fellow cast and crew members

a/n: thank you guys for the love on the first two chapters! i honestly wasn't anticipating much of a response on here so it's been a sweet surprise. i have imposter syndrome up the fucking wazoo and this is the first creative project i have ever stuck with for more than a few months, and i think it's partially because of the kind comments i've received from people (and also because i'm fucking horny and delusional for this old man). anyways, hope you enjoy chapter three. xoxo.

You and a few of the other makeup artists and hair stylists are standing a few hundred feet away, watching as Pedro and Bella repeatedly break character on top of a magnificent hill. The roar of laughter from the distance still manages to reach your ears, Pedro doubled over with hands bracing on his knees to keep from toppling over completely.

You know your period is coming, but the emotions you’ve been experiencing today are something else entirely. You awoke this morning and immediately started to tear up, knowing today was the last full day you’d spend with everyone, the crew who's become more like family to you than anything else. You’re just so proud of everyone. Filming this show was grueling, the labor not only physical but emotional too.

Fucking hell, you’re tearing up again just thinking about it.

“Awww, honey bun,” one of the girls pulled you into a side hug, squeezing into your hip with her resting hand. “I get it, I felt this way after my first long project too.”

You hate crying in front of people, but you’re so exhausted from holding it in since the morning, it all just pours out.

“I just love all of you guys so much, I don’t want it to end. It’s been such an honor to do this job and to become friends with all of you," you sniffle, frantically wiping at your eyes to clear the streams of tears from your puffy cheeks. "And Pedro, he’s been such a dream to work with. Such a genuine, kind guy, I just love working with him-”

“Baby, we know.” one of the few guys in your group teases and everyone erupts with laughter.

“Wha— Why are you guys laughing?" you whine. "Did I miss something?”

Are they onto you?

You think that you’ve done an incredible job hiding your colossal, debilitating crush on your extremely attractive, kind, witty, charming client. Of course you’ve experienced work crushes before, most of the actors you’d worked with are incredibly easy on the eyes.

But with Pedro, things were different. The amount of time that you’ve spent together during this project and the way your relationship developed, you didn’t stand a god damned chance. The way he talks, listens, looking you deep in your eyes and transfixing you with his soft baritone, even in the most casual of conversations. He makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. You barely survived some of those interactions, walking away with jello legs and a pounding chest, enough to make you a little short of breath.

“Oh, come on, kid, don’t play dumb,” another one chimes in, “We know you two have the hots for each other.”

Wait.

Each other?

The girl next to you squeezes your hip again.

“We’ve been placing bets to see which one of you would slip up first. It’s hard to watch. You guys are so, so oblivious.”

EACH OTHER?

Your chest starts pounding hard as your breath kicks out from underneath you. You can feel the pinkish-red hue spread hot over your round cheeks, only masked by the makeup you had put on that morning.

“You guys,” you manage through slightly labored breathing, “He doesn’t… it’s not… he wouldn’t…”

“See, I told you guys, it's gone completely over her head.”

Everyone is chiming in at this point, fits of laughter erupting from either side of you.

You honestly can’t believe the implication. You, crushing on him, sure. Who wouldn’t? But him, crushing on you? This has to be some kind of joke.

It’s not that you lack confidence. You rate yourself. You’re sexy, funny, talented, kinky, a great cook and even better at cleaning, not that those last two are things that should define you in any way. You're versatile, you can go out dancing or cuddle up on the couch and have a great night either way. And as much as you’re high strung about your work, you make up for it by being fun in your personal life. Yes, you have some moderate anxiety issues, but once you feel comfortable around people you’re a pretty damn good time. As for your looks, you truly like your appearance, you feel at home in your body and love to flaunt your curves.

But you’re also realistic.

Being a bigger girl means things will always be a bit different for you. You have to watch your back, fatphobia is so rampant and completely acceptable according to society, especially in LA. You’ve been denied entry to clubs simply because of your size. You've barely dated and haven't hooked up with anyone since your big breakup, over two years ago now. But you're not an idiot, and you know if you did, it’s a whole different ball game when you’re plus size.

You’ve helped a few of your fat friends make Tinder profiles, constantly having to answer questions like 'Does this picture look like me?' 'Is this catfishy?' 'Should I put a disclaimer in my bio?'

It’s never due to lack of confidence on their part, it’s due to lack of trust in other people to not be fucking vile. It’s exhausting, constantly trying to protect and defend yourself from hatred towards your own body, a body that you've come to love so dearly.

Now, with that being said, Pedro Pascal does not strike you as the type to go after someone like you. Not because he’s a shitty person, but because he’s basically an A-list fucking celebrity who can likely pull any woman he wants. In your experience, most of the older men who have shown interest in you were simply fetishizing your body. You're absolutely certain Pedro would never do that though, his respect for women is so innate, you can’t even conjure an image in your head of him treating you that way.

But the truth is, as fucked up as it is, if men can have their pick of the bunch, most of them will go for a thin woman. Social conditioning is a bitch.

Not to mention, he’s quite a bit older than you. You're closer in age to Bella than you are to Pedro. It's not something that bothers you, you've always gone for people older than you, but you don’t know how he feels in that regard.

If you're being honest, you never even allowed yourself to entertain the thought of him returning your feelings. But now here you are, and for some reason the concept scares you utterly shitless.

You want to bolt in the other direction, get in your car, and drive until you see nothing but fields. Canada is pretty good for that, you can drive in any direction and end up somewhere with no houses or buildings for miles. You love to sing in the car and drive for hours with no destination in mind. Horrible for the planet, yes, but you have a hybrid so you cut yourself a bit of slack. It’s better than driving your quiet, elderly neighbors up the wall with your obnoxious belting.

What if he did feel the same way about you? Then what?

First of all, he’s famous, incredibly famous. He’s a goddamn heartthrob. You’ve seen the TikTok edits that Bella saves on their phone to taunt Pedro with. People want him, bad, and you don’t think they’d appreciate him having a woman in his life. You aren’t sure you can handle an influx of cyberbullying from teenage girls with unhealthy parasocial relationships and too much time on their hands.

Secondly, there is of course the unexpected nature of you being his pick, decades younger than him and certainly curvier than most would anticipate.

And of course, your job. What would this do to your reputation? You don't want to be the girl who is known for this kind of thing, You don’t even know if this kind of thing is allowed due to the nature of your working relationship. Would you ever be allowed to work with him again?

You can feel your breaths starting to get shorter and shorter as your internal dialogue continues to obsessively ramble.

“I have to run back to the trailer, y'all just... text me if you need me, 'kay?”

You briskly walk toward the direction of the massive white vehicles, grateful to be able to drop the act and let the panic you feel seep into your facial expression. You walk into the trailer and slump down into the chair, managing an unfortunate attempt at the breathing techniques your therapist taught you.

As your body finally begins to settle back into a healthy rhythm, you hear voices getting louder and louder.

Shit, they’re breaking for lunch.

Without thinking, you bolt out the door with your bag and hide behind the trailer furthest from the incoming crowd of people.

You just need to calm down.

As you settle, you take some more deep breaths, your head flat against the white metal of the trailer, cooling the heat of your scalp. It helps, and you get lost in the sensation, the breathing steadying you back into your body.

Suddenly you hear your name being called in a gravelly voice, slightly steeped in a southern twang.

“Don’t come back here, I’m infected!” you blurt.

Stupid, yes, but it’ll buy you a second to come up with an excuse as to why you’re hiding. Digging through your bag to find your phone, you suddenly see the vape your friend left with you months ago.

Perfect.

You pull it out along with your phone and quickly open Instagram to make it look like you’ve been casually scrolling this whole time. You take a quick pull from the cartridge and try to catch as much of the vapor in your mouth, trying to protect your lungs and throat so you don’t start immediately hacking.

You exhale just as Pedro turns the corner.

“What are you doing back here? For some reason you’re never where I expect you to be.” he quips, his feet in a wide stance and arms crossed, illuminating his broad shoulders.

“Oh, it’s super embarrassing,” you flash the vape in your left hand. “My friend got me addicted to this stupid thing. I’m trying to quit but... clearly not going so well.”

He snatches it out of your hand before you can protest, studying it like it's an ancient artifact.

“What exactly is this?”

“You’ve never seen an ElfBar before?”

He looks at you, dumbfounded and a little peeved.

“Here,” you step forward and use your hand to guide his, lining up the vape with his lips. “Inhale.”

That was a little more seductive than you intended.

He obeys, taking a much bigger hit than he probably should. A panic washes over his eyes just before he starts coughing and hacking, the mist flying out of his open mouth.

“What the fuck is that? It tastes horrible!” he starts making noises of disgust amidst his hacking.

You can’t help yourself from laughing at his excessive dramatics.

“It’s essentially flavored nicotine. I like it though, I feel like it tastes like Froot Loops.”

He attempts to gasp but chokes halfway through, his lungs still traumatized by the vapor.

“How dare you insult Froot Loops like that!” he booms, his face absolutely flabbergasted by the suggestion.

Your hands are on your knees now, completely doubled over and barely able to manage a breath. His bellowing laughter fills the space, bouncing off of the trailer walls and waltzing with your high pitched cackles. Unable to hold himself up, he places a hand on your shoulder, and you both lose your footing.

You trip backward, back hitting the trailer hard as he stumbles into you.

Your bodies collide for a moment, his face so close that you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. The laughter between you quickly subsides as your consciousnesses adjust to the proximity you share. You feel that familiar flush prickle your face as he places a hand on the surface behind you, pushing himself off.

You meet his gaze, gentle and sweet, eyes softly nestled in crinkled skin. Your breaths start to deepen and your lips part slightly, unconsciously, as you maintain the eye contact intensifying dangerously between you. His gaze wanders to your mouth and you draw in a sharp inhale, an image of his lips on yours flashing through your head.

Your body jolts when reality catches up to you. He quickly steps back, raises a hand to scratch his head as his eyes dart around. There’s a moment of thick, heavy silence between you, you hastily fussing with your fingernails as he continues to mess with his hair.

You can’t think of a single word in the English language to save your life right now.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—” he fumbles through the words before you cut him off.

“No! No, it’s ok. It was an accident! Don’t worry, I’m ok—”

“Good!” He continues stammering, an undertone of panic lacing his tone. “Ok, good, I really didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you kids hiding back here?” a familiar accent cracks through the tension, a wave of relief crashing through your body.

Bella. Thank fuck.

“I... got P to try my vape!” you tease. “He’s… not a fan.”

You start to walk toward Bella, hoping that Pedro will follow you back to the more crowded area, desperate to get anywhere that keeps you from being alone with him

“Listen, If I’m gonna have nicotine, I’m just gonna stick to a good old-fashioned cigarette.” he states, still clearly trying to shake the Joel from his voice. He follows behind you, back to the open field where everyone is gathered.

Your hands are visibly shaking, so you hold them behind your back to hide them from the crowd. Beads of sweat start to prickle the back of your neck, the reality of what just happened hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You feel a strong hand rest on the small of your back and you jump. Hard.

“You ok?” a deep whisper floats toward your ear.

Why does he always have to be so fucking thoughtful?

“Never better!” you blurt, flashing a toothy, gaudy smile.

You’re a good liar, but not that good.

The two of you immerse yourselves in the swarm, pulled in different directions by little clusters of people that demand your presence. You desperately fight the urge to look back at him, but accept that the further you are from him right now, the better.

. . . . .

“And that's a wrap everybody!” Craig shouts towards the crowd of people behind him.

Cheers erupt, the crew hugging and high-fiving each other, little sounds of glee coming from every which way. In the distance, you see Pedro pull Bella in for a tight squeeze, their feet hovering off the ground as he spins them around in a circle. Arms and bodies push tightly against you as you get eaten alive by a clumsy group hug.

“I love you guys so much,” escapes you as you’re squeezed harder and harder, struggling to manage a full inhale. You’re going to miss this, miss them, so much. You can’t believe how fast these months flew by.

The group slowly starts migrating towards the trailers scattered in the faraway field. You hear chatter about dinner plans, possible parties, future projects and people excited to go home to their families and pets.

“Are you excited to go home?” The girl next to you inquires, her hand gripping yours fiercely.

“I mean, I miss my bed. And my bathtub. And kitchen. But honestly, I’m more sad to leave than anything else.”

It’s true, you miss your shitty little apartment. The AC doesn’t work half the time, the sink drains painfully slowly, and you swear you’ve heard scratching on the walls in your sleep. Staying in the pristine room you were put up in these past months has been far more luxurious than what you're used to, but it isn’t yours. You miss your posters, your record player, your stuffed animals, though you brought your most precious one with you to Canada. Just the thought of cozying up on your creaky mattress makes you feel warm inside, dissipating some of the discomfort you feel knowing this experience is over.

You sneak quietly into Pedro’s trailer and begin packing up your things. You snap a quick picture of your station, your hand in the frame making the heart symbol with your fingers that the kpop stars do.

The door creak open and you swing your head around to find Pedro standing in the doorway, hair tousled by the wind.

“Hey you!” he inches closer to you, opening his arms for a hug.

You throw your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes so you can rest your head on his shoulder. His arms find their way to your lower back, bunching the fabric of you shirt as he squeezes you tight.

“I’m so proud of you,” you gush, your hands unclasping from behind him and sliding off of his shoulders. “You were, you are, amazing. I can’t wait to see the final product.”

He reaches for your hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. My hair could never be this gray without your magic.”

“Give it a few years,” you tease. “Next season you won’t need me at all.”

He lets out that laugh, the bellowing boom filling the space with its warmth and magic. Nothing butters you up more than that sound, a smile stretching across your face to make way for your giggles.

“So... a couple of us are going out for dinner and drinks after this, and you’re coming,” he orders, grabbing his shirt from the pile of folded clothes in the empty swiveling chair.

He begins to unbutton his flannel to reveal a white undershirt, slightly damp and sticking to his skin. Despite your straining efforts, your gaze follows his hands as they move lower… and lower… and lower…

“Whaddya' say?” he breaks your trance with the question.

Your vision goes fuzzy trying to focus solely on his face as he removes the shirt entirely.

His arms.

“U-uh, y-yeah. Sure. Yes. Where?” you stumble.

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’ll call you when I find out. We might be going out after, so I’m going to try to dress nice. You can if you want, too, but no pressure.”

He pulls his black t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair in the process.

You instinctively reach up to fix the bird’s nest he just created, running your fingers through to calm the frizz.

“God, what am I gonna do without you, Plum?” he grins sweetly, a soft chuckle wisping past his rosy lips.

Your stomach flutters as you press the pads of your toes into your shoes. Anything to keep you grounded.

“I have no idea. You’re pretty hopeless when it comes to that hair of yours,” you jab, using the palm of your hands to pat down the remaining flyaway curls.

He reaches a hand up to try and wrestle with your hair. You quickly duck, avoiding his touch.

“Hey! Never touch the hair man! You know better!”

As much as you'd love to feel his fingers raked through your hair, you’d be damned if he ruined your fresh blowout.

“But it’s too perfect, it’s begging to be messed with.”

He tries for it again but you manage another successful dodge.

“Enough! I’m outta' here!” you sass, grabbing your bags and head towards the door. “See you later?”

You pause in the doorway, looking back at him.

“See you later,” he winks.

. . . . .

You’re sitting at the far right end of the table, wedged in the corner awkwardly with your ankles crossed under your chair. Most of the actors are sat by each other, so it felt natural to join the crew on the other side. Only one other hairstylists showed, you aren't entirely sure what happened to everyone else, but you heard they would meet up with your group later on. Fingers crossed.

The black dress you chose for the evening tightly hugs your curves, flaring at the thigh and hemmed just above the knee. You’re wearing a sensible two-inch heel and some Dr. Scholls inserts, with the hope that there will be dancing and booze in the later hours of the evening. You stand out from the rest of the group, a bit overdressed compared to the others, except for Pedro.

He’s wearing a black button down, two buttons on the top undone, and a pair of pleated green slacks that cling to his figure in all the right places. His belt is sizable but not gaudy, and a gold band is fitted perfectly to his right ring finger.

Despite your desperate efforts not to, you've repeatedly gazed across the table to him, your prolonged gawking completely overriding your willpower.

His hands, god his hands, the veins prominent as he uses his knife to carefully cut into his steak. You know his grip is strong, you’ve been subject to many an affectionate hand squeeze. The thought of him running his thick fingers through your hair makes you white-knuckle your silverware.

The scrape of your knife jerks you back to reality, and you quickly join the conversation happening to your right. One of the guys tells an animated story about an ex-boyfriend that leaves the rest of you erupting in laughter.

Through your lingering giggles, you instinctively find yourself turning your head to sneak a glance at the handsome man across from you.

Only this time, you meet his gaze.

He’s not exactly smiling with his lips, but his eyes are, soft and crinkled along the outer corners. Your chest starts to flutter, but in the same instant, you feel the tension in your body melt, as he continues to stare back at you with a remarkable gentleness. A grin slowly takes over his face, his teeth catching the low lighting of the restaurant, and like a puppet, your lips mimic his.

“Pedro?” Bella questions in a whisper, lightly tapping his shoulder. “Merle is trying to get your attention.”

You jerk your head the other way, so violently that you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.

You can barely hear the conversation across the table, your burning desire to know if anyone witnessed the interaction impossible to soothe. You try to immerse yourself back into your group when a slight wave of dizziness washes over you, so you choose instead listen quietly, fidgeting with your phone in your hand.

A few minutes later, you feel a quick buzz against your palm, a notification from Pedro appearing on your screen. He’s never texted you before, always insistent on just calling you instead. You tuck your hands under the table as inconspicuously as you can.

P: We r going to a club after this. Want 2 come?

Of course he texts like that.

You hold in a chuckle and glance towards him. He smiles, throwing two thumbs up eagerly with a wiggle of his brow, clearly urging you to say yes.

You: I thought you didn’t like to text?

P: Didn’t want to yell across the table. Come party?

He attaches a bitmoji, an animation of him with a confetti cannon. Your eyes roll on instinct as you stifle your laughter.

You: I’ll come, but only if you take a shot with me.

He replies with a thumbs up.

. . . . .

After dinner, a celebratory cake, and a sea of hugs, approximately half of the group you started with hikes down a few blocks to a small, underground club. Pedro is a few feet behind you, out of your sightline as you hold hands with two of your favorite coworkers. The three of you try to skip in unison but fail miserably, the rhythm of your legs too disjointed to end with you all staying upright.

The bouncer lets you in one by one as you make your way down the steep metal stairs and into the bustling room. The lighting is mostly purple and blue, spotlights swirling around the shadowy, dancing bodies in the center. You mosey over to the bar and within a few seconds, Pedro slides in right beside you.

“What’s your shot of choice?” you shout over the blaring music.

He leans in, brushing your hair to the side so he can speak directly into your ear.

“You choose. I’m not picky.”

His breath tickles the skin on your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine with an inaudible gasp. Your focus flickers, thoughts of his mouth tasting your skin, mustache grazing as he trails lower... and lower...

No.

You snap out of it as you greet the bartender.

“Can we get four shots of Patrón?”

“Hey, you said one shot.” Pedro whines.

“You drink however much you want,” you place a hand on his chest, the atmosphere of the club creating a placebo effect of tipsiness. “I’ll drink whatever’s left.”

The bartender pours the tequila haphazardly into the shot glasses, already fixed with lime wedges, and slides them over to you.

“OK, grab one and lock arms with me.” you shout.

He obeys, linking his left arm with your right.

“Now, cheers me. Don’t break eye contact or it’s 10 years of bad sex,” you exclaim through a hearty grin.

“Can’t risk that,” he winks.

God, you want him.

Your glasses clink and you throw the shots back with your arms still snaked around each other. The smooth burn coats your throat as it settles in your stomach. You pull away, biting into the lime wedge asa you place your glass down gently on the countertop.

His skin is glimmering in this light, the purple and blue dancing along the dew decorating his hairline. The curve of his nose is especially highlighted by the beams, resembling that of a ancient sculpture.

“Another?” you grab the remaining two glasses and hold one up to him inquisitively.

“Not yet. Later, or I’ll pay for it in the morning.”

You hold both glasses up to your open mouth and pour, the sting burning all the way down your esophagus and warming your tummy. You leave the limes untouched.

“More for me,” you smile.

A hand grabs you by the waist and tugs at your dress.

“You have to dance with me to this song!” one of your friends from the makeup team shouts in your ear, much louder than she needs to.

Pedro grabs the shot glasses out of your hands, mouthing his words with a smile.

"Go."

You try to wave as you’re being dragged in the direction of the dance floor. The crowd swallows you entirely and he disappears from your eyesight.

“Everytime We Touch” by Cascada is booming through the subwoofers and rippling the floor. The bass flows through you and somehow intensifies the heat spreading in your midsection. You start to move your body to the beat, flipping your hair to one side and running your fingers through it. You close your eyes and let the music turn you into a vessel of rhythm.

. . . . .

You’re drunk. About thirty minutes ago, a few friends bought more shots, clumsily pouring them in your mouth as you continued dancing. It’s only been an hour and a half, and you’re already five shots deep.

Your inhibition is nowhere to be found.

As you’re twirling and bouncing around the dance floor, the crowd cracks open slightly, allowing you a slivered view of the bar. Pedro is there, leaning against the counter and watching you intently. He waves diffidently when your eyes meet his.

“Be right back,” you turn, shouting to the group, squeezing the hand of the girl nearest to you.

You manage to escape the sea of bodies relatively unscathed, although you're certain your hair is absolutely fucked. You plop down carelessly on the barstool next to Pedro, raking your fingers through your mane to hopefully tame whatever the hell is going on up there.

Pedro turns to the bartender.

“Can we get some water over here?” He motions towards you with his thumb.

The bartender slides a water bottle down the bar and Pedro catches it impressively.

“God, you read my mind.” you manage, still a bit breathless.

“Who said this is for you?”

He opens the bottle, his massive hand flexing, a thick vein prominent on the top. Your eyes wander to his tattoo, barely visible in the violet light. You're transfixed for a moment, your head crooking slightly to try and study it more closely, the dizziness that tequila inevitably sparks beginning to set in.

He chuckles at your ogling, handing over the water with a cracked-open lid.

“You were staring at me,” you blurt, any semblance of a conscience you once had completely dissolved by the amount of alcohol in your bloodstream. “I saw you.”

His eyebrow cocks.

“I could say the same thing about you at dinner earlier."

Your stomach drops at the confession, but for some reason causes you to burst with unbridled laughter.

He giggles along with you, his shoulders bouncing as his dimple slowly appears.

“You’re just really fun to watch out there. You dance very freely. And your dress-”

“What about my dress?” you jut, cutting him off with a drunken, flirty shove on the shoulder.

“It looks really nice on you. Fits you... just right.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he says it, his voice gentle and tinged with desire. You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips as your ears color in red. You can sense the wide, awestruck grin plastered across your lips, too inebriated to do anything about it. Your eyes soften as you melt into the moment, Pedro looking down at you with gaze that can only be described as one of pure admiration.

He reaches up a hand and smoothes down your flyaway hairs.

“I’m helping, I promise.”

You lock your eyes on a spot on a stain in the wood floor, suddenly overcome with a giddy shyness.

“Well, you… you look pretty spiffy yourself. I like your…”

Don’t say chest. Don’t say chest.

“... shirt… buttons.”

Shirt buttons?

He booms with laughter, hard enough that he doubles over, placing a hand on your thigh to keep from toppling over completely.

You throb at the touch, the core of it pulsing between your legs.

“I’ll have to wear this one more often,” he teases, his hand unmoving.

With every second that passes, the sensation of his palm pressing into your skin starts to burn, the throb morphing into a panging need under your skirt. You bite your lip hard, bearing through the searing ache.

You have to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret.

“I-I’m gonna go dance again. You wanna come?” you spring from the barstool. holding out a hand, beckoning him to follow you into the mass of sweaty bodies behind you.

“I’ll watch, you go. Have fun.” he smiles, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn away with a stifled grin, his words echoing in your head as the crowd swallows you whole.

. . . . .

chapter four

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #the last of us #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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emedvs · 7 months

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Drama and Delights: The Tale of Alejandro and Noah at Daycare

(i got this idea from @noahcue )

In the vibrant world of Daycare Delights, where the playroom was a kingdom ruled by toddlers, a new arrival had everyone talking. Alejandro, with his sparkling eyes and a grin that could disarm the sternest daycare provider, quickly earned the title of the "flatterer" of the daycare.

One sunny morning, Alejandro's attention fixated on a particular cynic in the room, a pint-sized skeptic named Noah. Noah was known for his razor-sharp wit and his knack for calling out nonsense.

With the confidence of a seasoned actor, Alejandro toddled over to Noah. "Ah, mi amigo, you have the most magnificent sippy cup in all of Daycare Delights. Its splendor rivals that of the grandest juice boxes in the land!"

Noah, perpetually unimpressed, arched an eyebrow. "Sippy cups are sippy cups, dude."

Undeterred, Alejandro continued, his flair for drama undiminished. "But señor Noah, your building blocks are the envy of all other blocks! Their structural integrity is unparalleled!"

Noah remained unfazed. "They're just blocks, man."

Alejandro's theatrical flattery didn't go unnoticed by the other toddlers. He used his charm to acquire the best toys and treats in the daycare, making him the envy of many.

One day, Alejandro hatched a plan. He approached Noah with a wrapped toy in hand. "Noah, mi amigo, I have a special gift for you. A token of my admiration." He presented the gift with a flourish.

Noah eyed the gift suspiciously but accepted it. Moments later, he handed it to Owen, a perpetually cheerful and slightly gullible toddler. Alejandro's dramatic flair transformed into a pout as he watched Owen happily play with the gift.

"Hey, dude, Owen really likes it," Noah remarked with a smirk.

Alejandro stomped his tiny foot, his inner diva emerging. "But I got that for you, Noah! It was meant to be yours!"

Noah, unfazed by the display, replied, "Well, you gave it to me, so I can do whatever I want with it, right?"

The daycare room erupted in giggles as Alejandro's dramatic antics continued..

As the sun began its descent, signaling nap time at Daycare Delights, Chef Hatchet, the daycare provider with a stern disposition, had a plan to pair up the toddlers for a cozy snooze in beanbags. He had the pairs all figured out, but Alejandro had other plans.

With wide, hopeful eyes, Alejandro tugged at Chef's apron, his voice filled with toddler-like enthusiasm. "Chef, Chef! Can I pretty please be paired with Noah? We make the best team, I promise!"

Chef Hatchet, used to Alejandro's dramatic antics, initially shook his head. "No way, Alejandro. You need to learn to get along with everyone."

But Alejandro wasn't about to give up. He went into full whining mode, complete with crocodile tears, and tugged even harder at Chef's apron. "But Chef, I need to be with Noah. It's destiny! The stars have aligned!"

Chef's patience wore thin, but he couldn't help but glance at Noah, who sat nearby with his trademark bored expression. Noah simply shrugged as if to say, "Whatever."

With a heavy sigh, Chef Hatchet relented. "Fine, Alejandro, you can pair up with Noah. But only this once, got it?"

Alejandro's face lit up like a neon sign. He excitedly held out his hand to Noah, who took it with an amused smirk. Alejandro jumped up and down, his tiny feet barely leaving the ground.

"Yay! It's a dream come true, Noah! We're nap buddies!" Alejandro exclaimed, his melodramatic flair making even a simple nap seem like an epic adventure.

Noah couldn't help but chuckle at Alejandro's enthusiasm. "Yeah, yeah, let's get this over with."

As they settled into the beanbag, Alejandro's energy seemed to infect Noah. They may have been an odd pair, but as the daycare room quieted down for nap time, even the cynical Noah couldn't deny that there was something uniquely charming about Alejandro's flair for drama.

As Alejandro held tightly to Noah, his grin of pure delight never wavered. He snuggled up close, finding comfort in the warmth of their friendship. Noah, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the curious gazes of Owen and Gwen, who watched the unlikely pair with bafflement written all over their faces.

Noah, being Noah, raised an eyebrow with a sly smirk and pointed subtly at Alejandro, as if to say, "Look at me, I've got the cutest kid in the class in my arms."

Owen, always up for some fun, gave a thumbs-up with an excited grin, while Gwen, the resident skeptic, raised an eyebrow in amusement. The daycare room was filled with whispers and giggles as word spread about Noah and Alejandro's peculiar naptime duo.

Meanwhile, across the room, Courtney couldn't help but whine in jealousy, her eyes narrowing as she watched Noah and Alejandro. Duncan, ever the nonchalant observer, simply looked at Courtney with confusion and frustration.

Noah, reveling in the attention, put his hand behind his head, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips. He had won this round of daycare popularity, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

A week had passed since Alejandro and Noah became inseparable buddies at Daycare Delights. While Noah initially had reservations, he couldn't deny the charm of having the daycare's most popular toddler as his constant companion. Alejandro was undeniably adorable, but his occasional clinginess sometimes tested Noah's patience.

On a sunny afternoon, Noah and Owen were deep in conversation, discussing their favorite toys and the highly anticipated snack time. Gwen, always perceptive, couldn't help but notice something was amiss.

She leaned in toward Noah and asked in a hushed tone, her eyes filled with curiosity, "Hey, Noah, do you actually like having Alejandro around all the time?"

Noah sighed, casting a sideways glance at Alejandro, who was engrossed in play nearby. "Well," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "it's just that Alejandro's like a little magician. He turns on the charm and makes everyone do what he wants. Dealing with him is like trying to catch a slippery fish covered in butter swimming in oil."

As Noah continued to share his thoughts on Alejandro's tactics, he remained blissfully unaware that their charming friend had silently approached. Alejandro stood just behind Noah, a bewildered expression on his face, and he'd overheard every word.

Gwen and Owen exchanged anxious glances, silently urging Noah to turn around. However, Noah, absorbed in venting his frustrations, remained oblivious and continued his tirade.

"It's like he's got everyone wrapped around his tiny finger, and they don't even notice!" Noah exclaimed, still unaware of the growing tension behind him.

Finally, as Noah finished his rant, he turned around and found Alejandro standing there, his eyes brimming with anger and hurt. Tears welled up in Alejandro's eyes, but he didn't utter a word. Instead, he simply turned and stomped away, clearly upset.

Weeks passed, and Noah's regret over his harsh words to Alejandro lingered. He was determined to mend their fractured friendship, no matter what it took. So, he decided to change his approach, shifting from video games to heartfelt gestures.

One day, Noah approached Alejandro with a bag filled with candies and toys, hoping to mend fences. However, Alejandro huffed and turned his head away, still nursing his wounded pride.

Frustrated and feeling defeated, Noah turned to Jude for advice. Jude, with his usual laid-back demeanor, had an unconventional idea that caught Noah off guard.

"Hey, Noah, you should totally plan a romantic date for Alejandro," Jude suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Noah raised an eyebrow at the unexpected idea but decided to give it a try. After all, he was eager to make amends. He enlisted the help of his daycare pals – Owen, Gwen, Duncan, Leshawna, Harold, Izzy, Cody, and even a reluctant Courtney – to create a "pretend" romantic restaurant within the daycare.

Behind the cover of beanbags and pillows, they transformed a corner of the playroom into an elaborate scene with makeshift tables, candles, and soft toy music in the background. Noah, dressed in an oversized suit probably borrowed from Chef, held a bouquet of plush roses nervously.

With their masterpiece complete, Noah took a deep breath and approached Alejandro, gently taking his hand. Alejandro's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Noah dressed up and holding toy roses. Unexpectedly, he burst into laughter, loud and contagious.

Noah's smile faltered momentarily as he wasn't sure how to react, but Alejandro leaned in and planted a playful kiss on Noah's cheek, his laughter filling the room. He took Noah's hand and led him to the makeshift romantic table.

Noah, now flustered and baffled, couldn't help but smile. It might not have been the serious romantic date he had intended, but Alejandro's laughter had broken the tension between them. Perhaps their friendship was on the path to becoming even stronger than before, and they had learned that even in daycare, love and friendship could bloom in the most unexpected ways.

(plus in this story i made Alejandro more childish since i think he gets babied a lot by his mother. plus they're TODDLERS so don't be weird about it and as you can see im not good with titles..)

#alenoah #noah td #td alejandro #total dramarama #english is not my first language #im trying #they're toddlers.

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littlefreya · 1 year

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Henry Cavill:

That's a wrap! My days on Ungentlemanly Warfare are over. Tis a sad day. I'm going to echo the sentiments of my co-stars and sing the praises of our intrepid crew. It's rare to come across a team so driven, dedicated and committed to the storytelling. That drive and dedication is only intensified by having a leader such as Guy Ritchie. His ability to weave story and create character might be second to none, and he wields it like it were magic.

Those ingredients - skill, drive, and exceptional talent at the top, are only three of the ingredients needed for an experience that will last forever in memory. The fourth is happiness. Guy creates happiness on his set, it's a joyful place to be, full of laughter and japes and jests. The crew and cast's approach and personality is key in this. Everyone, without fail, was able to enjoy themselves while also working hard and being exceptional.

This wee pontification would not be complete without heaping praise upon my fellow actors. Alan Ritchson, the man mountain, with a heart of gold, and a wisdom and talent that can sweep you off your feet. Alex Pettyfer, the lover, the laugher, the warmth of a big smile and a jaw line that would challenge the Turkish mountains. Henry Golding Jnr, a snap quick acting reaction time, handsome beyond belief and always a man I was happy to see. And the last (but not the least) of my immediate team of misfits, Hero Fiennes Tiffin - a mega star in the making. I know a lot of you know him already, but my oh my he's going to have a magnificent career.

To the makers of The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare I shall miss you all, and gods willing - see you soon.

#henry cavill #Henry cavill news #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #guy ritichie

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hotvintagepoll · 4 months

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Propaganda

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [attached below]

Jean-Pierre Cassel (Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines)—short king. little french monster. the hottest thing in this movie not including all the airplanes. dad of that other french actor guy who looks just like him but longer

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[propaganda photos submitted under the cut]

"GOD DAMN GOD DAMN" -propaganda for Harry Belafonte

#harry belafonte #jean-pierre cassel #old hollywood #classic hollywood #old movies #fuck that old man #round 1 #hotvintagepoll

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satellite-evans · 2 years

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You've got a friend in me

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: " The important thing is that we stick together." - Buzz Lightyear

Word count: 2.199 words

Warnings: A lot of flufff

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope everyone is doing wonderful! This takes place in the same universe as my fic Kisses, so if you haven't read that yet, please do!

And a quick disclaimer, I have to say that Aria is here 5 years old, so it takes a couple of years later after Kisses.

Alright, I hope you enjoy it, guys. Love you all!

English is not my first language, so I apologize, If I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback and requests are always welcome.

Enjoy and tell me what you think xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

How many people in the world can say that all of their biggest dreams came true? Unfortunately, not a lot. But Chris could. Anytime. That all of his big dreams came true one at a time, wasn’t something he could wrap his head around. It felt surreal and uncommon, like he won a golden ticket. He just wondered what good deed he did in his life that God blessed him with greatness.

The first time that one of his biggest dreams came true, was in New York in an agent’s office. His agent told him he got the part in ‘Not another teen movie’, where he would play Jake Wyler. In Chris’ eyes, it was the first real acting gig he had ever gotten. Of course, he was in other stuff like 'Opposite sex', but he describes that as 'terrible' and not to be mentioned again. This role made Chris believe directors would see his talent in this movie and give him even bigger roles. He saw it all in front of him. Becoming an A-list actor, went to his movie premiers, winning awards. He couldn't wait.

The second time that one of his dreams came out, was when he met you.

He was ordering coffee for himself when he realized he forgot his wallet at home. He was lacking sleep from all the anxiety his new acting job gave him.

Just when he was going to tell the barista to cancel his order, you jumped in.

“I’ll pay for the gentleman, too, if that's alright with him.” When he turned to look at you and say he you didn’t have to, he saw something magnificent. Undescribable with words, glowing from the sunlight that was coming from outside. He saw the definition of elegant in front of him.

He saw you.

Now, Chris was one of those men who didn’t believe in falling in love at first sight. He truly believed that you should and only can fall in love with someone if you know them.

But he would be dammed if he didn’t find out who you were, and why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

"Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that. How can I make it up to you?"

The third time was in his favorite city, but the place he hated the most: The hospital.

Never in a million years, would Chris think that one of his biggest dreams was about to come true in a hospital in Boston.

But here he was, experiencing the fact that you were giving birth to his daughter.

His baby girl.

Ever since Chris was a young adult, he wanted to be a father. Growing up in with 3 siblings in a healthy household, he just knew. It felt right, the idea of coming home from work, and seeing your children play with each other while your wife was working on her laptop.

It felt safe.

His first child. He still couldn’t believe it.

Aria Raine Evans.

You chose her first name, Aria, while Chris chose Raine. The most calming sound in this world was the sound of rain, according to him.

That changed in an instant when he heard Aria’s voice.

“ I still can’t believe she’s real.” He whispered in your ear while you were feeding her.

“ I can’t believe you fainted twice while I was pushing her out of my vagina.” He rolled his eyes, not proud that happened. But he knew you weren't mad. It was a known fact that Chris is a very sensitive man.

“I’m sorry, okay, but I was about to meet the love of my life and I got too excited.”

You smiled at his confession, making sure your daughter was feeding well.

“ I know honey, I know.”

And now, He found himself 5 years later, making another of his dreams come true.

He was about to show the world that he was Buzz Lightyear.

Chris would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Premiers were always nerve-racking for him, but this time he was calmer than normal because you and Aria were joining him today at the premiere, and he had to be strong for the both of you. Chris promised himself the day that Aria was born that he would protect both of you from any harm that his fame could cause. To this day, he never broke his promise.

“Daddy, look at me, you’ve got a friend in me, daddy!”

When he turned to look at this 5-year-old daughter, while he was in the living room taking a picture of dodger, Chris couldn’t believe his eyes that something that cute was existing in his life.

Aria asked you if she could dress as Woody, and who were you to say no?

“Oh my goodness, you’re right bubba, I got a friend in you! Come here, let daddy see you properly!"

Aria jumped in Chris’ arms, too excited to show her daddy how she looked.

“ Look daddy, there is Andy written under my boot!” Chris checked and just like her daughter said, Andy was written under her tiny boot.

“Did mommy buy this costume for you? Gosh, Aria, you look amazing! Speaking of, baby, where is your mom?”

Just when Aria was about to answer, you walked into the living room.

“I’m here honey.”

You were wearing a long white dress, that showed every curve your body had. After all those years and having a child with Chris, you still looked like the most stunning woman in his eyes.

“ I showed my costume to daddy just like you asked mommy and he liked it!” You fake gasped, approaching your daughter with open arms.

“Of course he liked it, sweetie, you’re the cutest Woody daddy has ever seen, isn’t that right Chris?”

He nodded with a big smile.

“Oh absolutely, I think they should make a Woody film next with you in it, Aria.”

Aria groaned loudly. Hearing his dad talking about her acting made her annoyed.

“Daddy, I told you already I don’t want to act. I wanna be a painter!”

Hearing his daughter’s annoyance, he took her back from you.

“I know honey, I know. I’m just joking with ya. Now, is everyone ready to go to the premiere?”

“Yes, daddy I am so ready!”

Chris kissed both of her cheeks and looked at his daughter with adoration. Seeing Aria being so excited about his work makes him full of joy and love.

“Now, remember what we told you, Aria. It can get hectic there, the important thing is-"

“That we stick together, I know daddy, you don’t need to steal lines from his movie.”

After sassing her parents, Aria left her daddy’s arms and went to wait in front of the door, with dodger following her.

Chris and you were looking at each other in awe, not believing how big your baby girl has gotten.

“That is your daughter, wow. The sass she has.” He slowly walked toward you, giving his flirty eyes.

"I know, but let's talk about you for a sec. Who told you to be this gorgeous, huh?" His eyes never left yours while his hands were roaming your body, giving you goosebumps.

"Oh, stop it. You and I both know you are the attractive one in this relationship. I mean, look at you, now that you have got some grey in your beard, it makes you irresistible."

He scoffed, hating that you would hate on yourself like that. If you only could see yourself through Chris' eyes.

"You are the star in my life that brightens every tricky and dark place that I have to go through. Do you know how much I have to fight with myself, trying not to fall into the honey of your eyes? Don't you ever, talk about yourself that way. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on, okay?"

You loved how Chris showed you every day the reasons you fell in love with him.

Today's reason was his kindness and how great he was with words.

He slowly reached down, about to capture your lips with his, until…

"MOMMY, DADDY HURRY I DON'T WANNA BE LATE"

"Yup, she is showing the Y/L/N in her blood, for sure."

Aria was mesmerized when you guys arrived at the premiere. Seeing people everywhere with cameras, a lot of children dressed up as Buzz, Woody, and a lot of other characters from the movie she has seen with her parents. It felt like she entered a whole new world.

"Wow, everything is blue." Not the first reaction Chris expected from her daughter, but at least she wasn't complaining.

"I know. Everything looks amazing. Aria, there are a lot of cameras inside. If you ever feel uncomfortable or the feeling you don't want to be here, you tell daddy and we will get you out of here, okay? No film in the world is more important than you."

She simply nodded, not understanding why her father sounded so scared. It was just a couple of cameras. How bad could it be?

"I need you to say it, Aria. This is very important."

She looked at you, seeing that you had the same facial expression as Chris.

"If I ever get scared, I will tell daddy and he will get me out of here. Can we go inside now? I'm getting bored."

She held your hand and walked with big steps towards the carpet. Looking behind you, you saw a shocked Chris, once again in awe of his daughter. He pulled himself together and followed you guys.

You went on the carpet together as a family, posing with Chris holding your waist close to him, while Aria was in front of you guys smiling at the camera.

She was pure talent. You had your doubts, about taking her to the premiere, especially with so many people around, but Aria took it like a champ. She was well behaved, waved at some cameras, posed some, and even answered some questions from journalists.

"We are here today with none other than Chris Evans and his lovely family! Hey Aria, how excited are you that your dad is a hero?"

She looked at Chris first, asking permission if she could answer the lady. When he simply nodded, she started talking.

" I am so excited that my daddy is a hero. But he was already a superhero. You know my daddy is also Captain America!"

the three adults laughed, making Aria very confused since she didn't make a joke.

"Yeah, that's right, but who is your favorite? Buzz Lightyear or Captain America?"

" I think Buzz because Captain America kissed a lot of other ladies that weren't mommy and he is stupid for that."

Once again, she made you and Chris laugh alongside the interviewer. But she still didn't understand why they were laughing when she didn't make a joke. What was so funny?

"Girl, you are so right. Thank you, Chris, Y/N, and Aria for your answers!"

You and Chris shook her hand while Aria just flashed her a smile.

"Thank you for your question. See you later."

After you guys walked away, you turned to Aria, giving her kisses all over her face.

"Aren't you just the cutest kid ever, huh? Who told you to be this cute?"

"Mommy, stop, please, my tummy hurts!" She kept giggling while Chris was still holding her.

"Alright troublemakers, it's time to watch the movie. Y'all are excited?"

Aria and you said the same thing at the same time.

"Aye, aye captain!"

"Alright, let's go inside."

Aria set between you and Chris in the big theatre. He sometimes looked towards her daughter, seeing if he could get a glimpse of her reaction, but it was dark and he couldn't see properly. After the movie ended, you guys went straight to the car, since it was getting late and it was almost bedtime for Aria.

"So Aria, tell me, what did you think of the movie?" This was the most stressful moment of the night for Chris. Aria's opinions mattered to him, and he took them seriously.

" It was missing Woody, daddy. They were supposed to stick together. They were buddies. So I don't know. I have to think about it."

Chris felt like someone had crushed his soul. He knew from her tone that she didn't like it. He felt so disappointed in himself, that he let his daughter down.

"Oh, I'm so sorry baby, I thought that-"

" I'M JUST KIDDING DADDY, I LOVED IT! YOU DIDN'T KISS OTHER LADIES! AND BUZZ IS SO COOL BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Chris felt a tremendous relief washing over him, never been happier that his daughter was joking. You were snickering in the passenger seat next to him, laughing about the fact that your daughter got her father again.

"You little minx, you pranked daddy again! I thought you didn't like the movie! How are you so good at acting, huh?"

He turned towards his daughter, waiting for her answer.

" I am my daddy's daughter, that's why."

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