Could you do a one shot where Tom Hiddleston comes home from a long trip away of filming for a movie and complaining to his wife until she surprises him with the news of her being pregnant?
A Hiddleston request! Oh, how wonderful…I don’t get many of these! Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!
Shuffling through the door, Tom throws his bags off into the corner, a huff escaping his lips as he enters the empty flat.
“Y/N?” he calls out, wondering where you are, “I’m home, sweetheart!”
Bounding out of the room, a broad smile across your face, you run and throw your arms around him, thankful to finally have him home.
“Oh my god!” you squeal, “You’re back a day early!”
“Yes, thank god,” he says, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you ask, feeling him sigh against your skin as you rub your hand lightly across his back.
“Here, come and sit. Talk to me,” you say, leading him to the couch.
“It was just…oh god,” he groans, flopping his back into the couch as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Is this a tea or Jameson kind of conversation?” you ask, lifting your eyebrow as you study his face.
“A Jameson,” he sighs.
Getting up from the couch, you ready his drink, grabbing a water for yourself as you bring the refreshments back over to the couch, crooking your leg up under your body as you turn towards him.
“What’s happened?” you inquire again, worry filling your eyes.
“Just a lot of nonsense,” Tom sighs, taking a large sip of his drink, grunting as he swallows it down, “No one knew how to time manage this filming, and they are late with the editing crew, so there is a good chance that I may have to end up flying back into the States if there’s a scene that they don’t have a good shot of, and it’s just an absolute mess. This is the bit of time that I do get to spend you with, and they are encroaching upon it by not doing their own job to the best of their ability. It’s just frustrating.”
Nodding as you listen to him talk, you crack open your water and begin to sip on it.
“…and it’s so inconsiderate of them to think that our time is completely disp-”
As he stops mid-sentence, his cocks his eyebrows up a notch as he takes in your appearance.
“Are you…thinner?” he asks, his voice upticking.
Furrowing your brow trying to hide your smile, you say, “Well, I haven’t felt too well these past few days.”
“Oh, sweetheart, here I am going on about stupid stuff…” he trails off, setting his drink off to the side as he cocks his body, placing his hand on your knee, “Lets go lay you down. Would you like some soup? Or maybe some coffee?”
Shaking your head, you say, “No, that’s alright. I feel fine for now, and besides, I should probably stick to water for a little while.”
“Yeah, you usually have a glass of wine with me whenever I end up having a drink. Oh, I am so sorry. How completely inconsiderate of me!”
“It’s alright, Thomas,” you coo, taking his face in your hands as you bring his lips into yours for a light kiss.
“I hope you’re not contagious,” he giggles, his lips going in for a longer kiss.
Chuckling lightly, you pull back and look him in his eyes, “I don’t believe pregnancy is contagious, no.”
Stunned, Tom pulls his head back slowly, his eyes wide as his jaw goes slack.
“D-di-…did you say…pregnancy…?” he asks, wondering if he heard you right.
“Yep,” you say, popping the “p.”
“Oh my god!” he yells, jumping up off of the couch and leaping onto the coffee table, “Oh my god!”
As he dances around on the table, pulling you up as he wraps his arms around you, you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, laughing into the crook of his neck as he spins you around.
“You’re pregnant!!” he yells, “Hahaaaaaa!”
Setting your feet down, he moves his hand to the back of your head and brings you in for a passionate, wet, teeth-clattering kiss.
“Oh my god. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much,” he whispers, pulling you in for a bear hug.
“And I love you,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as the embrace lingers.
“How far along?” he says, pulling back and smiling as his hands migrate down to your stomach.
“11 weeks,” you grin.
“11 weeks!? And you didn’t call!?” he exclaims, the smile still very apparent on his face.
“Well, I was going to get on a plane to surprise you, but I’ve been pretty sick, and I wanted to tell you in person, so I just…waited,” you said, feeling the sickness start to well up in your throat again.
“Oh, my Y/N. I’m going to be a father…” he trails off.
“Uh oh,” you say, pushing him away as you throw your head over the side of the table you two are still standing on, vomiting all over the carpeted floor as Tom reaches to pull your hair back from your face.
“It’s alright…I’m right here…let it out,” he coos softly into your ear, your body heaving up breakfast as Tom slowly helps you off of the table with his free hand.
“It’s alright…the carpet can be cleaned,” he says, feeling you tense up as it starts all over again.
Once the sickness dies down, your body panting as involuntary tears barrel down your face, you feel Tom pick you up in his arms as he carries you into the bathroom.
“You, my love, are going to take a nice, hot bath while I clean the main room up,” he says, smiling at you as he strips you down and draws you a bath.
“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, rinsing your mouth out as you cringe at the taste of vomit on your tongue.
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” he grabs your face, his stern eyes searching yours. “This journey that we are on…it’s…it’s beautiful, and mysterious, and completely natural. Don’t you dare be sorry for anything that happens.”
Nodding as tears well in your eyes, he lifts you up and places you lightly into the bath, the warm water accepting your body as you sigh in relief.
“Join me when you’re done?” you ask, a smile crossing your lips as you lean back into the rose petal bubbles.
“Anything you want,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead before he gets up, closing the bathroom door behind him.
“I’m going to be a father,” he murmurs to himself, smiling as he ventures over to his cell phone, flipping it open and scrolling through his contacts.
“Mom? Hey! Yes, I’m back a day early. Listen, do you still have that steam cleaner? Great! I was wondering if I could borrow it…”
could really just end the review with that; this movie barely
deserves acknowledgment. But that’s pretty cheap an unfair, so
let’s tell you WHY it’s awful. This is the Amercanized gag dub of
the film The Magic Roundabout, which
was already in English; they just decided to slap a bunch of
celebrity VAs into the film and have them vomit pop culture
references all over the place, and even give voices to characters who
didn’t speak in the original. The movie is basically an abridged
series without the abridging… or the humor for that matter.
what’s making us out and out on this magic roundabout? Well…
Doogal is a dog with a bad sweet tooth. This sweet tooth leads to him
inadvertently releasing from the magic roundabout the villainous
sorcerer Zeebad, some weird springy guy with ice powers. Now Doogal
and his ragtag group of weirdo friends needs to journey across the
land, gathering the magical crystals so they can free Doogal’s
human owner Florence from
Zeebad’s ice. Can they do it? Do you even care?
So in my leadership class, we’ve been watching inspiring movies or whatever about leaders, since we have 3 period blocks instead of 6 these past two weeks.
So we’re watching “The Game Stands Tall”, and my best friend/the guy I like is way into football. Like, way into it. So he’s totally digging this movie. Towards the end, there’s a scene where one of the players walks into his bathroom the morning of his last game as a senior and proceeds to dry-heave into the toilet a few times, graphically. Unless I’m alone ;), vomit in film makes me really anxious, so I turned away. My crush, sitting next to me, starts to describe to me IN DETAIL about how, when he was on the football team (he’s had a pretty big brain tumor scare this year, so they don’t know if he’ll be able I play again), he used to either throw up the morning of, or right before leaving on the activity bus, and how i will never understand the struggle of puking in a bathroom stall until I’ve experienced it myself.
Enjoy these words from Martin Scorsese on “the Father of American Independent Cinema” and then spark your filmmaking passion with Filmmaking Wisdom from John Cassavetes, 5 tips of cinematic goodness presented by A-BitterSweet-Life.
1) Character Is More Important than Plot
The true journey of the film rests not in the mechanics of plot but in the journey of the character within the world presented by the film’s storytelling. For John Cassavetes, the most important thing of all was to present characters truthfully. It is this truthful presentation of character that then allows the audience to immerse itself with the film since the character is the vehicle for the viewer.
Inspiring Quotes from John Cassavetes on the Art of Cinema
All of Cassavetes’ films, they were all epics of the human soul.
Certainly, the human soul was at the center of John Cassavetes’ works, but even more so, as Martin Scorsese suggests, they were monumental explorations into it, of the kind that cherished truthfulness over entertainment and commercial success, that cherished the artistic and revelatory potential of filmmaking. In addition, he was a filmmaker who took on the making of films at all costs, shedding light on the independent filmmaking path for all with the aspirations to express themselves cinematically. For their creative inspiration and profound insight, A-BitterSweet-Life presents a collection of inspiring quotes on the art of cinema from John Cassavetes.
Lunch with the guys from Sculpture was always an eventful affair. Natsu remembered one time Sting got a chicken wing lodged in his ear. He still wasn’t sure how it happened, but everyone told him he was the one to blame. Natsu still wasn’t convinced, but by the way Sting always ducked every time he came near him with so much as a turkey leg there could be some truth to what he said.
They headed back into Fairy Tail after eating at 8-Island. Yajima was a close friend of the Dreyer family which ran the foundation, so they got to eat at a discounted rate. Considering the massive appetites of both Gajeel and Natsu, that was a great benefit to them.
“So what’s with you and the new chick from Photo?” Gray asked Natsu, drawing his attention. On the way past the Notice/Request board, art was scattered around them. They passed tall drawings that stretched from floor to ceiling, and massive strips of canvas loaded with oil paints. The building was crammed full of art people put on display for everyone to look at on their way to their respective studios, “She’s been coming down to our level a lot. Button pushers don’t usually venture further south than Printmaking.”
“Huh? Ya mean Lucy?” Natsu returned the question, he ignored the slang Gray used for photography. Every department had a ‘nickname’ of sorts. Ceramics were mudslingers, Photographers were button pushers, so on and so forth.
He lifted one tattooed shoulder, slinging his arms behind his head, “Nothing. Just helpin’ her with her frames. She likes to figure out how to do stuff herself.”
Disbelief colored Gray’s face. The man didn’t look convinced by Natsu’s explanation, somehow sensing his fellow sculptor was being deliberate in his evasiveness. Before he could further question Natsu, a grunt came from behind them.
“Oy,” Gajeel muttered from behind them, “Check this out.”
Natsu hadn’t even noticed Gajeel had hung back. A white shirt was slung over his shoulder, discarded by Gray as they walked. No doubt Gajeel was planning on tossing it into the pen they built for their stray kittens. They had a comfortable nest under the sandblaster, but they were missing a few toys. Everytime Gray stripped himself of an article of clothing, Gajeel considered it a donation to contribute to the toy-building process of their cats which was explanation enough on why he lingered. The burly man had a soft spot for kittens the size of Canada.
Edging over to Gajeel, Natsu peered over his shoulder to see what had caught his cousin’s eye. They were standing in front of the request board, the three of them shoulder to shoulder as they looked at the new notice.
Levy’s Photography ‘Protips’ – IE: A Letter to the Jerks in Sculpture and General Studio Housekeeping.
Natsu snorted in laughter, mimicking his cousin’s odd sounding laughter.
“Looks like Levy decided to make a list like yours,” Gray said, amused.
“Damn shrimp.” Still his eyes moved over the paper, interested in the content despite the growls vibrating in the back of his throat. So distracted was he, Gajeel didn’t notice Gray sliding his shirt back on.
1.) The Darkroom is not a place to take a nap and escape from the noise. I don’t care how hung over or tired you are. We keep explosive chemicals back here and some of you have a reputation around fire.
2.) Please read the door to make sure there is no ‘nude modeling’ signs posted. The sign up sheet for sessions are on the door. KNOCK before entering if the doors are closed. ‘Whoops’ is not a valid response.
Natsu let out a loud whoop of laughter.
3.) The revolving door of the Darkroom is not a toy. If I catch you spinning around in it like a cracked-out child at Christmas, I will eject you into the timeout corner. It’s under the old printer and it has the total square space of a single foot. Enjoy.
4.) If for some reason Rule 3 is ignored and certain motion sick fools find they are in desperate need to vomit, the film canisters are not sickbags. At least use the sink for goddsake.
5.) Please don’t plug in the light board and heating press at the same time. It will cause a short, which blows out power to the entire top level. If you make me have to go down to Hell for your mess up and face the fury of Laxus to get the breaker working for us again, I will be very unhappy.
6.) To whoever keeps putting their dead goldfish in the Fix. Please STOP. I know we save it because I said I wanted to save some of the wildlife which remained in the local rivers, but putting your deceased pets in the fix are not going to make me change my mind.
7.) The chemicals for film are not a Do-It-Yourself chemistry kit. Listen to me. You are not a mad scientist, and this is not your laboratory. Put a pin in it Dr. Frankenstein.
8.) I know the safety lights in the darkroom look good. But changing them to party lights or even worse – black lights is prohibited. No one really wants to see the stains on the walls again, do they?
9.) The studio closes at 2am unless you are accompanied by a shop tech. Those who are found hiding in the cabinets to escape notice will be fed to Gajeel.
Mad giggling could be heard all the way in Graphic Design at that rule. Natsu shot a look over his shoulder at Gajeel’s flustered scowl. He was at a loss for what to say, but everyone knew he was secretly pleased he was being used as a threat. Gajeel could be an intimidating bastard if you didn’t realize he had a soft spot for kittens.
10.) All nude models will remain behind the closed doors of the studio. The janitors keep complaining about having to pick up loose clothing off light fixtures. On an unrelated note, Gray, we have a few things in the Lost and Found for you.
Natsu leaned against Gajeel as they both roared with laughter, the two sculptors collapsing in on themselves and falling into hysterics over the notice. Gray’s face burned red in embarrassment, his shirt already unbuttoned and hanging loose around his shoulders.
“Look who got called out!” Natsu crowed, throwing his head back and laughing obnoxiously. Oh, some of these were great though. He owed Levy a huge one for this.
Gray, who had been thumping his forehead against the request board, and thus the notice itself, whipped around to glare at Natsu, “Shut up Lava breath! You missed the last one! You’re getting called out too!”
“What, you wanna go princess!” Natsu demanded, cramming his face back into Gray’s personal space. Always willing to jump into a fight, he rose eager to the challenge his fellow sculptor presented.
At least until he figured out what Gray was talking about. The previous rules had hinted at his involvement pretty heavily even if they hadn’t listed him by name. Still, he was interested in what Gray was talking about.
11.) Breech of these codes requires one cup of coffee as payment for emotional and physical damages.
The eleventh rule was written in neat handwriting. Large and well printed, the letters fell in curly lines that were light against the paper. They contrasted well against the writing that came before it. Written by a different person. Written by her.
Yeah he was still going to call her that in his head.
He recognized the different handwriting when she signed her name in the tool checkout sheet down in Hell. Lucy’s handwriting was one of the most recognizable across the board. And she had added a note to the end of Levy’s list, just like Natsu graffitied Gajeel’s notice.
“He ripped the paper off the board,” Gray observed in amusement, having tossed his shirt further down the hallway again.
“Gray, your clothes,” Gajeel sighed tiredly.
Natsu paid them no mind. One thing was certain. Lucy was calling him out.