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keerysfreckles · 8 months ago

Text

coming of age — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary: in which a silly bet between the two redbull drivers becomes a reality when y/n wins the first race of the 2024 season.

warnings: not proofread, sorry for spelling mistakes!!

a/n: LET ME COOK ‼️‼️

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

ever since y/n l/n joined f1 in 2019, joining her best friends, lando norris, alex albon and george russell, her life flipped upside down.

she's been in four teams since her debut. she started in mclaren with lando in 2019, then got told the news carlos sainz would be taking her seat in 2020.

she then got moved to williams, which proved she deserved to be in a better car. she excelled as best she could with what she was given, securing the 10th spot in the drivers championship. but she wanted more.

so for the next two years y/n joined ferrari, alongside one of her formula one idols, charles leclerc. both ferrari drivers proved they earned their spots every year, until y/n got into a crash during an australian free practice. to put it lightly, she was forced to use crutches for the rest of the 2022 season. therefore at the end of 2022, she was told carlos would replace her for the upcoming years.

january 2023 rolls around, and y/n still didn't have a seat. however, a certain redbull driver had his eyes on her ever since she joined, watching as she made her way up the fornula one ladder. climbing each step in order to get to the podium, but not a win. the driver believed if she worked at redbull, she'd get that long awaited win.

so max verstappen had a plan. he spent the whole week trying his best to convince christian horner to take y/n in for the 2023 season. they needed a second driver anyway, and needed to announce it as soon as possible.

after days of constantly bothering the team principal, it was finally announced to the world that y/n would be joining redbull under a multi-year contract.

to say y/n excelled in redbull the past year would be an understatement. y/n was proudly on the podium nineteen out of the twenty-three races held. so close to the win, but always settling for second and third place.

y/n was done settling. she knew 2024 was going to be her year, and the pre season training was already going more than smoothly. both her and max were the fastest on track every day, with merely seconds between them.

from her first day in the redbull car, y/n and max had a bet going on; if y/n could win whatever race they were participating in that weekend, she'd have to kiss max. it started out as a small joke, but y/n couldn't help but wonder what max's lips would feel like on hers. would it be a quick kiss? or something more? all questions that wouldn't be answered until she won, and she was trying to do that here in bahrain.

it was a redbull front row, making the start of the race easy for both drivers. both pit stops went by smoothly, and their strategies were working wonders.

with only five laps to go, her race engineer spoke into her ear pieces.

"pace is still good, max is in front with 1.3 second gap," john spoke calmly, watching through the screens from the pit wall.

y/n replies shortly, before focusing back on the task at hand. every single race she's wanted to beat max, but this time felt much more real. maybe there was more adrenaline from the crowd, or maybe the car was going faster this year. whatever it was, she wouldn't know.

"gap .9 now, drs is enabled."

y/n pressed a button in response, turning on her drs as she passed down the straight. the muffled screams from the outside world seemed to get louder and louder as she got closer to the rear of max's car.

if she blinked, she would've missed the moment she finally over took her teammate. for a second, even she was confused.

"did we just pass max?" she asked john, her voice shaking slightly.

john chuckles into the microphone, "you did my dear. only two laps to go now, keep the pace."

y/n did as instructed. the world around her went quiet again as she saw the checkered flag, only a few feet away from her.

"y/n l/n wins her very first formula one grand prix! she wins in bahrain, making it a redbull 1-2 this evening!"

y/n instantly screams into her helmet, hearing the laughs and shouts from the pit wall and redbull crew coming out of the garage.

she slowed down for a cool down lap, waving and pumping her fist as she drove by the grand stands. max drove besider her now, giving her a thumbs up. he could practically hear the girls laughter and cheers from his own car.

y/n wasn't sure when the tears started to flow, but she kept wiping her face after taking her helmet off. as soon as she weighed in, she was running to the redbull crew waiting for her behind the barricades.

she yelled before being lifted into the air by the sea of navy blue. y/n was on cloud nine as she was being set back down onto the ground.

christian was waiting just outside the barricade, with his arms wide open.

"you stinker! i knew this day would come," he congratulates the girl, enveloping her in a warm hug.

the smile never leaves her face as the drivers come to congratulate her. max gives her a hug first, and y/n can't tell if he kissed her temple, or if she was just imagining it with all the adrenaline coursing through her.

lando was next, considering he got third, he was already waiting for her once he parked his car. he spun her off the ground, when the other 2019 rookies came running up to the pair.

a cameraman patted lando on the shoulder, gesturing for them to lift y/n up. he complied, as the three boys somehow lifted y/n onto their shoulders, posing as the shutters of the camera went off.

carlos and charles congratulated her next, both telling her how proud they were of her.

finally being able to sit in the middle seat in the cool down room felt unreal for y/n. putting on the winner's hat was more than enough, but sitting in between lando and max sealed the deal.

lando got to the podium first, with the mclaren crew cheering him on from the ground.

max was next, still with a big smile on his face, despite not winning the race.

finally y/n emerged from around the corner. y/n's heart swelled as the crowd below her cheered louder than anyone has ever heard it before. lando and max both held out their hands for high fives as she stood on the top of the podium.

she couldn't control the smile on her face as she recieved your first medal, and first formula one trophy. as anyone else wouldve done, she held the trophy low to the ground as the crowd below started to roar. once she lifted it above her head the crowd went wild once again.

she watched proudly as max and lando were handed their trophies, lifting them above their heads as well.

y/n basked in the bahrain sunset as the national anthem of her country played through the speakers. shortly after the austrian anthem played, while both her and max looked down to their team in awe. neither of them would be where they are today without them.

not even a second passes after the austrian anthem is over, and max and lando are ambusing y/n with their champagne. she laughs and screams as the cold alcohol sprays down her racing suit. she tries her best to spray max and lando, but can't help but continue wiping her eyes as a mix of tears and champagne fall down her cheeks.

as y/n's still wiping her eyes and the champagne in the bottles is almost empty, max takes her chin softly in his hand. she looks up at him, her heart starting to race again once she realized what her win means in terms of the silly bet the two drivers have.

y/n would've gladly payed a thousand dollars to see the look on everyone's face when max pulled her lips to his. still with her champagne bottle in one hand, she grabs onto max's bicep. making her realize he's really here and kissing her, and to keep her on her feet.

lando was the most caught off gaurd. he turned just in time after leaning down to grab his trophy. his eyes went wide as he watched the two redbu drivers.

the redbull crew all cheered, all silently hoping this moment would happen. they all knew about the longing glances between drivers, and how they got along so quickly when y/n first joined the team.

"finally a race winner," max mumbles against the top of y/n's head, kissing her hair. he wraps his arm around her as the two begin to walk out of the champagne covered platform. she waits for lando, pausing her and max's movements. once lando's by her side, she walks with both of them. her smile still never leaves.

after getting a group picture and video with the redbull crew, and probably taking a million pictures to post on the teams social media platforms, y/n and max go to their drivers rooms.

y/n facetimes her parents quickly, knowing how early in the morning it is for them.

finally changing into dry and much more comfortable clothes, a knock interrupts her thoughts.

"race winner looks good on you," max smiles after closing the door behind him.

y/n can't help but laugh, her smile growing once again.

"i can't believe it finally happened," she shakes her head. max sits on her sofa, watching as she packs her backpack.

"we all knew it would happen, it was just a matter of when," max states, causing a small blush to adorn y/n's cheeks.

"i hope you know i'm more than proud of you," max admits, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

y/n zips her bag, not looking at the dutchman next to her, "yeah, the whole team seemed so." she laughs again at the thought of how happy the redbull garage was for the girl.

max chuckles, "no y/n, i'm saying i'm more than proud of you." he looks up at her now, meeting her eyes.

"thank you max," she smiles again.

before he can contemplate his own thoughts any further, he stands to walk out of the room. he rubs his hand on y/n's shoulder before exiting, "i'll be right out, so we can walk out together, yeah?"

y/n's lucky to catch max's attention just as his hand grabs the door handle.

"i'm surprised you stayed with your word, and kissed me today," y/n turns to face max.

he turns as well, still leaving a fair amount of space between the two of them.

he shrugs and y/n doesn't miss the slight blush on his cheeks, "well yeah, a bet's a bet. no one can back out of one."

y/n takes a few steps forward. the confidence could've been from the dying adrenaline, but whatever it was from, she was going to use it.

"so if it weren't for the bet, you wouldn't have kissed me?"

max chuckles, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. a stutter becoming more prominent between every word, "no, no i mean if it were a right time i would've kissed you. i just wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?"

he continues stumbling over his words, causing the girl in front of him to giggle. his heart bursts at the sound.

"are you just going to stand there while i make a fool out of myself?" he asks, out of breath from rambling. his hands fall to his sides.

"i could," y/n states, watching max's smile falter slightly. "or i could just kiss you."

before max could get a proper response out, y/n leans up to press her lips against his for the second time that night. his hands instantly find their way to her waist, as hers hold both sides of his face.

"so if i won a race earlier, would i still have gotten a kiss?" y/n asks, just centimeters away from max's lips.

"screw just a kiss, we would've been a couple a whole lot sooner."

max cuts off y/n's giggle with another kiss.

the second kiss of many between the drivers.

1K notes · View notes

writing-fanics · 1 year ago

Text

Playful Banter ‘Stayed Gone’

Alastor x Reader

[a/n: I’m not a song writer don’t be mean if the lyrics don’t match up I’m sorry I tried! I haven’t written for Alastor since I think 2020. The entire song isn’t here in lyrics it opens when Alastor and you are walking down the stairs]

Song

Alastor and You, walked down the stairs and noticed sinners gathers around the Voxtech television. You glanced up at him knowingly, and you couldn’t help put clip your heels together. As you made you swiftly made your way, to the radio tower.

‘While they’ve hid in radio, we've pivoted to video’

‘Now their medium is getting bloody rare.’

‘Hell's been better since they’ve split’

You grinned dusting off your clothes; bringing the cup of tea taking a sip. As you glanced ver at Alastor smiling, “Let’s have some fun shall we, darling?” He asked, and you lifted your head with an upturned smile. “We shall.” You chuckle, as you turned on the broadcast. Leaning in closer into the mic.

‘Where's they’ve been? Who gives a shit?!’

You had a devilish smile plastered on your face, “Salutations!” You and Alastor said into the microphone, grinning ear to ear. “Good to be back on the air,” You smiled, holding your cup of tea in hand.

You were ready for some fun, excited, Vox didn’t know what he was getting into with you two.“Yes, we know it's been a while.” You two sang, into the microphone.

“Since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast” You two said into the mic, “Sinners, rejoice!” Alastor and You exclaimed, as the crowd seemed to gather around the old timey radio.

The sinners gathered in front of both, glancing back and forth between the two. “What a dated voice!” Vox spat, and You could only chuckle as you brought the mic closer.

“Instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast.” You and Alastor sang, smiling

“Come on!” Vox shouted, angrily annoyed. As the two went on, “Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure?” Alastor sang, and making fun of Vox.

“Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?” You sang, smirking and standing beside Alastor.

“Ignore their chirping!” Vox spat.

“Every day, he's got a new format!” Alastor sang, grinning. Vox groaned in annoyance.

‘You're looking at the future, he's the shit that comes before that!’

Alastor sang, “Is Vox as strong as he purports?” as other sinners listened in the feud, “Or is it based on his support?” You sang.

“He'd be powerless without the other Vees,” Alastor sang, then leaning closer into your respective microphones. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“And here's the sugar on the cream,”Alastor sang, leaning closer into his microphone a a devilish smile on his face.

“He asked us to join his team!” Alastor sang, revealing the truth. “H-hold on!” Vox stammered, nervously. You smiled grinning ear to ear leaning closer holding; your microphone close to you.

A devilish grin grew across your face, “A jealous one he surely is!” You sang, stifling back a laugh. Remembering when Vox asked if you wanted to go out. As in start a relationship with you. You couldn’t help but laugh back then. And still laugh even now.

You chuckled slightly,“years ago he asked if we could court!” You sang, into the microphone. You could only imagine the horrified and embarrassed looked, on Vox’s face right now and thought alone. Made your grin wider.

“I said no, and now he's pissy.” You say down in your chair, next to Alastor and smiled. “That's the tea!” Alastor and You sang, sitting back into your respective chairs smiling. Leaning back in them kicking your legs back, as you two sang.

“You two old-timey pricks, I'll show you suf-ffering,” Vox stammered, as his screen started to buffer. “Uh oh, the TV is buffering!” You and Alastor sang into the microphone, with you adding slight coo at the end.

Vox stammered as he started to shorting out, his screen buffering continuously as he was about to lose single. “I'll destroy you, yo-ou lit-tle—” He stammered, suddenly all power across Pentagram City went out. The only source of power coming from the radio tower, attached to the Hazbin Hotel.

Alastor chuckled statically, “I'm afraid you've lost your signal,” You said, grinning. You looked down for a moment before looking up. Your eyes glowing a bright red.

“Let's begin.” Alastor sang into staff, as he slowly transformed into his demon form. Placing down bis staff as his eyes glowed bright red, and his antlers grew bigger. His form slowly started to resemble that of a wendigo.

“We’re gonna make you wish that we’d stayed gone, tune on in,” you two sang, as you slowly transformed. Your body stretching and neck becoming longer.

As your body stretched, into its demonic form. An ‘X’ revealed itself on the side of your neck. As your nails became sharp claws, as you gripped the control board. “When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run,” You two sang leaning closer, as your eyes and body grew longer.

“Oh, this will be fun,” You and Alastor sang, smiling. Vox stared at the screen in disbelief, as it went blank and fell back into his seat, “Fuck!” he whined, their laughter continuing to taunt him. Leaning back into your chair you smiled, “We still got it.” You said, smiling of course the two of you would. Nothing beats, radio. “I couldn’t ask for a better co-host.” said Alastor, as he smiled at you. “And I couldn’t ask for a better husband,” You said, blowing a kiss his way a smile on your face.

Wonder what Vox’s reaction would be since he still hasn’t moved on, from you rejecting him. To him noticing a ring on your finger.. hmm I’d imagine he’d be buffering

a/n: I did my best with this.

#alastor x reader #Alastor x you #Alastor x y/n #Alastor radio demon x you #Alastor radio demon x y/n #Alastor radio demon x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel #vox Hazbin hotel #Stayed gone #hazbin hotel fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

cuteandhughesy · 2 months ago

Note

hiii!!! i love your writing, like the angst and the fluff is amazing. i actually had a request for arturs silovs (canucks) or jeremy swayman (bruins obv, for now at least) where they go on reader's popular hockey podcast, which kinda goes viral in the hockey community with many ppl shipping the two, and they kind of get pushed into doing more media stuff together as it brings views for the teams and stuff? im sorry thats all i got, feel free to add or change this if you do choose to write it. thanks

The Alchemy | Jeremy Swayman

summary: having your own sports podcasts was one of the most enjoyable and rewarding jobs you could ever have. when a particular episode with bruins goaltender blows up - you are jermey are pushed together to film more videos. it doesn't help that everybody is shipping you two together - making your growing crush on him become harder to mask.

9.6K

warnings: SFW! friends to lovers | mention of covid -19 | fishing | suggestive dialogue | kissing

a/n: thank you for the request! your idea was so cute that I just had to write! I chose sway obviously so I hope yall love <3 happy halloween 🎃

link to masterlist

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

when you were a little girl you'd often find yourself huddled on the cozy material of the living room couch, watching your dads tv shows until way past your bedtime. you'd always stay quiet, eyes focused only on the tv, too scared that if you'd move you'd be put into bed.

that's when you first fell in love with hockey. having no choice but to watch the tv and seeing professional athletes zip around the stark ice at high speeds, shooting dangerously, and throwing hits - you were immediately drawn into the crazy world of hockey.

but when you're a girl and you express your love for any kind of professional sport, you become immediately labeled; gold digger, clout chaser, a bunny. whether it is football, baseball, basketball, or hockey, nobody believes girls when they say they're into the sport simply because they like the sport.

that's what made you want to start pursuing a hockey related career. you wanted to show everybody that girls, just as well as men, could watch and enjoy a sport without any ulterior motives.

in 2020, with covid-19 at its peak, you started to create hockey related content and post it on tiktok. it was simple videos with just you and your mini microphone - discussing game play, trending and popular news, and nhl players.

it blew up, and after a year of tiktok content, you were approached by barstool sports with the opportunity of a lifetime.

starting a professional sports podcast was intimidating, especially under such a well known company like barstool. you'd be competing with pardon my take, bussin' with the boys, and most famously, spittin' chiclets.

you started with high hopes and a nervous belly, recording a solo episode in your small podcast room. thankfully because of your large following on tiktok, your podcast was a successful one, and you continued to grow into your space and talk all things hockey.

what set you apart from other sports podcasts was your style of content. you were good at remembering these athletes for who they were: human. of course, you'd analyze and discuss their game, but at the end of the day, these men aren't machines and you were always reminding your audience of so.

fans of the podcast described you as 'an amazing sports analysts who perfectly represents how it feels to be a woman in sports. y/n is respectful but honest. funny but kind. clever but not a know it all. pucks in deeper with y/n is the best sports cast for everyone."

it wasn't long before your podcast, titled pucks in deeper, was gaining traction outside of your tiktok fans, and you started getting occasional sponsorships and guests on the show. starting smaller with paul bisosnette and ryan whitney (who graciously had you featured in an episode of their podcast), then landing your first active nhl athlete, only 9 months after starting at barstool.

ryan reaves was the perfect guest for your podcast and perfectly matched your vibe and the vibe of content you wanted to put out into the world. the episode with reaves birthed your first viral clip, and from there you had other professional hockey players wanting to come on your podcast and chat.

at 25 years old, and almost 5 years deep into your podcast, you were thriving. often getting compared to a mixture of bobbi althoff, alex cooper and brittany broski - your content was very personalized to your interviewee, and you specialized in humour and lighthearted conversation that the players were very intrigued by.

obviously, you got hate comments, mostly from people who had nothing better to do. you'd get called a puck bunny, and were told that ‘you knew nothing’, and ‘should quit while you're ahead.’ but that didn't phase you, and you thrived off the negatively. it pushed you to prove them wrong, and continue to have a viral and successful podcast despite the criticism.

——

email from: barstool sports inc

to: y/n y/l/n @pucksindeeperpodcast

y/n,

as usual, your podcast remains a positive and successful experience for our company. we continue to be absolutely blown away by the outpouring support and love for pucks in deeper, and are excited for you to continue at the pace you are still gaining.

due to the incredible virality of your podcast episode with jeremy swayman, we have reached out to both you and swayman with a proposal. the fans and viewers have loved your shared dynamic, and we are wanting to feed off that outpouring obsession by having you and jeremy film some content for our barstool channels.

that includes an expenses paid trip from new jersey out to boston, where you'll be staying for a few days for filming - as well as transportation and hotels in boston.

we are certain this will benefit you and the continuing growth of your podcast.

jeremy swayman's team has already agreed to the terms of the proposal and he is willing to spend time and participate in planned content recordings.

let us know what you're thinking and if you'd be so kind to consider this opportunity.

thank you,

barstool sports inc.

you re-read the email again, knawing on your thumb nail gently. a few weeks ago, the boston bruins goaltender, jeremy swayman, had graciously made an appearance on pucks in deeper. instantly, jeremy became one of your favourite guests. his calm exterior and humor had bounced off your style of interviewing perfectly, and you found yourself feeling very much intrigued by the goalie.

even though the interview was over a zoom, the entire podcast went smoothly. jeremy was kind and a willing participant in all the quizzes, games and questions you'd thrown his way.

there was a clipped video from the podcast your team had uploaded to your channel's tiktok page that had gone viral, and the traction on the swayman episode after that was mind blowing.

PODCAST CLIP

"okay," you start, a gentle and anticipating grin on your face. "this is near the end of our episode - sad, I understand," jeremy laughs at your humor, his eyes squinting. you continue, "and like usual i've hand selected a question from a fan and i've found the perfect one for you."

jeremy's brows raise, "should I feel scared right now?"

you dismiss his question, a gentle grin still softening your expression. "a little birdy told me that you're a big rom-com guy."

"is this little birdy in question named brandon carlo?" jeremy questions knowingly. you'd had the bruins defence man on the podcast the week before, and he'd immediately spilled the embarrassing and memorable tea on his teammates.

"answer the question."

jeremy laughs once, and through the slightly grainy zoom video, you watch him run a hand through his hair. he nods quickly, still smiling with amusement. "i'd say yeah - fuck it, im a self proclaimed rom com enthusiast."

"well I have the most fun question that i've kind of turned into a mini game," you clear your throat, and your eyes briefly flicker down towards your desk top, scanning over your podcast notes. "the question is from @swaymansbae - damn it they stole the username I wanted." you slip in the joke quickly, just a subtle end to your sentence.

it works, and jeremy laughs again. "oh god - you should fight them for it."

you nod, "i'm going to - anyways. @swaymansbae asks what are you favourite rom coms."

jeremy hums appreciatively, already thinking of movies he'd share his love to the hockey world with.

"but I've added my own little twist. okay, so you've all seen how blind ranking things has become just like, this crazy phenomenon online. and i feel left out...so, jeremy i've got a list of 5 of my favourite romantic comedies, and you'll have to blindly rank them - 1 being the best, and 5 being the worst. ready?"

"oh fuck," jeremy huffs a laugh, and you watch him adjust into a more relaxed posture on the camera. he rubs his jawline, eyes bouncing around the computer screen. "i'm feeling nervous now - they're your favourites?"

"yeah," you nod, pushing your blue light glasses higher up the bridge of your nose - your makeup always has them slipping down. "so there is definitely a right and wrong answer."

jeremy curses again, a quiet chuckle coming alongside the swear.

you begin, "10 things I hate about you." you look away from your notebook and back at your computer screen, eyeing jeremy with faux caution.

he hisses through his teeth, teetering his head in quick thought. "i'm going to have to go 5."

"what?!!"

he laughs again, "I don't know…i'm not big on the whole enemies first storyline."

"enemies to lovers, jeremey, get it right."

another chuckle is heard before he starts to defend his rank. "I don't know it's something about that storyline I find so unbelievable. I think if you truly loved one another, you wouldn’t treat each other like that."

you sigh loudly, "okay, I guess that makes sense."

"is that your favourite?" jeremy questions, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"no comment." you clear your throat, reading your next movie from your notes. "next: to all the boys i've loved before."

"i've never seen that one - 4."

"jeremy...oh my god."

he raises his hands in surrender, teeth sparkling where they are just becoming visible under his growing smirk. "it's too new!"

"it came out in like 2018 -"

"- okay and i'm more into the classics. that's not one i've seen, but maybe i'll have to check it out."

"no, yeah you absolutely need to watch it." you tell him, eyeing him over the rim of your tortoise shell lenses.

"it's not enemies to lovers is it?" he gets the name of the trope correct this time around, and it has your lips quirking up pleasantly.

you shrug a shoulder, "no, not really."

his brows furrow, "not really?"

"moving on - how to loose a guy in 10 days."

he claps his hands, rubbing them together. "okay now I can get down with this - amazing movie."

"amazing." you echo, nodding. "and like hello matthew mcConaughey is this movie is like perfect, as well as kate hudson."

"way better than him in the wedding planner." the bruins goalie agrees, leaning forward in his kitchen chair as he gets more engaged with the conversation.

your eyes widen in suprise, "100%. and you wanna know why?"

"he's a cheater in that movie."

you make a noise - a combination of joy and shock escaping your throat. "no exactly! you get me."

"I get you." jeremey nods his head in a jerk like motion, acknowledging you like a flirty teenage boy. "i'm going to have to put that at...damn - gotta go 2."

ever so slightly, your cheeks tinge pink. regardless of your online persona of lighthearted, flirty, and funny, you're easily flustered. it sometimes made your job a bit difficult - but you're also good at your job, so repressing that initial haze from his compliment is quick and easy.

"not 1?"

he kisses his teeth, "something could always be better."

"very optimistic of you - the proposal."

his gentle laughter comes to a soft end, and he eyes you through the camera. "y/n…that's that stupid enemies shit again."

"okay, yeah but this one is different."

"how?" jeremy chuckles.

you splutter for a moment, thinking of some sort of answer. "he's all like scared of her and it's just, I don't know, well executed! and it's not like she's horrible to only him, it's just her personality."

jeremy scrunches his noise, clearly not vibing with the proposal even with your explanation. "what do I have left open?"

you glance at your notes, where you've taken the time to make sure you'd been tracking the places of each of jermey's ranking on the movies. "1 and 3."

he curses. "it's gotta be 3 - I can't put it at 1."

"oh my god, better hope you like this next movie. god forbid if the characters are mean." you tease him, eyeing him playfully through the screen. jeremy's lip tugs up, a grin forming. you continue, "and your number one....the last movie is...she's the man with the lovely amanda bynes and channing tatum."

"okay I'm actually really happy with that. I'm obsessed with that movie." he beams, "that is the kind of rom com that you just can't argue its greatness. not only is it funny and unique, but it's a sports movie - c'mon."

you echo him, "c'mon, what's not to like?!"

"sports romance for the win."

"very fitting," you chime warmly. "are you saying if a girl wants your attention she should disguise herself as brad marchand and zip around the ice."

he barks out a laugh, nodding reluctantly. "something like that."

comments

user1: wait this is everything

user2: OBSSESED

user3: sway + his love for rom coms = my new obsession

user 4: no because they way he's looking at her !

user 5: justice for 10 things I hate about you

user 6: why do I ship them together

user3: no because I was going to say that

user 7: they vibe so well together I need this is be like a weekly thing honestly

user 8: he's got rizz

user 9: MORE pls i love you both

user 10: okay but you two would be the most stunning, perfect couple. the humor matches, the banter, the way they look at each other

user4: just watched this again and omg the way sway says he hates enemies to lovers bc he doesn't believe you could treat somebody you love that badly - CERTIFIED LOVER BOY

the fans were always amazing, but as they loved on the episode, the comments about you and jeremey being cute together and shipping you were coming in at a lightning pace. it had you feeling weary of filming more content with him - despite knowing it would be a professional working environment.

the comments made me you feel like you were falling into the stereotyped female hockey fan category - labeled as a puck bunny or clout chaser. and although you found yourself always growing stronger from those false accusations, it doesn't make you the happiest to see those types of comments.

you sigh gently, pressing the respond tab on the barstool email. through your doubts, you know that barstool is right, and filming more content with jeremy while your podcast episode was still gaining traction was smart. and it's not like jeremy was a bad guest - quite the opposite. so you'll learn to work around the fans who want the two of you to date, and the allegations that you're already in jeremy's pants.

spending time with him would be good, you think. without any idea of what you'd have to participate in, you say yes - looking forward to meeting jeremy and continuing to get to know a potential returning podcast guest - getting shipped together be damned.

no harm, no foul.

boston, here you come.

— youtube: JEREMY SWAYMAN TEACHES Y/N Y/L/N HOW TO FISH

"okay and here we have - camera man, come closer." you gesture for daniel, the younger camera guy to come closer. once he's in your space, you direct his attention towards the portable flat table filled with fishing rods along other fishing things. you continue, "and this right here will be my rod. the fisherman's dream 2000."

beside you, jeremy laughs. he's fiddling with his own fishing pole, attaching the fake shrimp lure on his hook. he's laughing because there's no fishing rod on the table called the fisherman's dream 2000, and you are simply just fooling around.

regardless, your face is very serious, and you continue. "I mean, even though this is my first time fishing, jeremy told me - he actually said this - he said: I can tell you're going to be the best fisherman already so you deserve the nimbus of fishing rods. to which I responded, 'jeremy I'm a fisherwoman not a fisherman.'"

"yeah, you're right I totally said that." gently with his hip, jeremy shuffles you slightly off to the side, making more space. you don't mind, and allow him to move you around with his gentle push. immediately, he reaches for the fishing rod you'd been talking about, picking it up off the table to start attaching bait.

before he hooks the mini lure on, he looks at you. he's already grinning, and one of his brows is raised questioningly. "you sure you don't want to hook it on? you're supposed to be learning."

you cross your arms over your dark green plastic overalls, and the fabric puffs around you awkwardly. "I can watch and learn."

he eyes you slowly, gaze dragging down your body, assessing your fishing attire of rubber boots, overalls and a long sleeve - and back up to your face. jeremy is dressed the same, keeping him dry from the drizzly, cooler june day. "you definitely like to watch, huh?"

your mouth drops slightly, and in an instant you're getting into his space, taking the bait from jermey's calloused fingers. "okay, fine." he's laughing at you gently, watching as you try and attempt to attach the rubber fish to the sharp hook. you curse, merely missing pricking your finger. "this is rigged - there's no way it's supposed to be hard."

gently, jeremy takes over once again, hooking your lure correctly so it's secure on the end of fishing rod. you look back up towards the camera again, "okay and as you can see we've attached the fake bass fishy to the rode - hopefully to catch some big fish." you fist bump in and early celebratory gesture.

chuckling, jeremy shakes his head in amusement. it wasn't a bass lure, and they're aren't even bass on the lake you're at. regardless, he lets you take control and entertain- what you're best at.

"if I was a fish, i'd fall for that fake food - zoom in on that masterpiece, my god!" daniel the camera man does what you ask, expertly changing the framing on the camera to capture the neon oranges and pinks of the lure.

shrugging, you dig into the tackle box, pulling out some more fishing necessities. things like rolls of fishing line, pliers, scissors and anything in between. you pull out a small pocket knife, holding it wearily as you eye the camera - a frightened expression on your face. "what's this for? are we gutting them?"

jeremey laughs once, shooting you a look as he fiddles with the rod. you had no idea what he was actually doing with the fishing rod, because you've never held a pole in your lifetime. "we're not gutting them." he tugs one of the levers, and the clear fishing line tightens before your eyes.

"then what's the knife for?" you question, swinging it back and forth between two pinched fingers.

he shrugs, testing the retention of his fishing line. "don't worry about it." your eyes widen comically, and the swinging knife comes to a dramatic stop. it has jeremy laughing again, his shoulders shaking as he does. "okay, are you ready to head over to the lake?"

the lake in question was only 10 feet away - the water looking awfully calm through the misty weather.

you turn your body to face jeremy fully, an amused frown tugging at your lips. your brows raise playfully, "am I ready?" you echo, sarcasm lacing your tone. you pull the straps of your rubberized overalls, letting them smack back against your shirt. "i'm ready to catch some fish."

with that, you grab the orange rod from jeremy, bringing it against your chest. jeremy cringes slightly, watching the way your fingers merely miss the hook on the end of your line. on instinct, he reaches out to you, moving your hand gently so that you're out of harms way. "do you remember what I told you?"

you think back to the beginning of filming, after you'd mentioned to everyone that you had absolutely zero clue how to fish. jeremy had nicely said there was nothing to it, and as long as you remembered a few rules, you'd be fine. you sigh in thought, eyes looking into jermey's - his gaze encouraging. "stay calm and speak gently - to not scare the fish."

you're praised immediately, jeremy smiling warmly as he gathers the fishing necessitates to bring down to the water. on the way down, you almost wipe out, practically shrieking as your foot slips down the wet, grassy hill. it would've had you feeling embarrassed, but thankfully jeremy's reflex's were superior (those nhl goalies are on a different level), and he grabs the crook of your elbow to stabilize you.

he smiles slightly, eyeing you playfully when he asks if you're okay. you blush slightly, brushing off your slip with some teasing remark.

when you had arrived at the filming location this morning, you weren't expecting to end up at a fishing park - you weren't expecting fishing period. you'd been left feeling clueless about what you and jeremy would be filming for barstool, and you definitely weren't prepared for water related activities. thankfully, the crew had provided both you and jeremy with proper waterproof attire - your tights and long sleeve align top wouldn't cut it.

right before getting changed, jeremey had shown up and....he was much better looking in person. you hate yourself for even thinking that, and you almost feel guilty for daring to even have those thoughts about an nhl athlete. anytime you think an athlete is cute, you have that guilty feeling - you hate that it plays into that bunny stereotype, even though you'd never get on your podcast and solely discuss an athletes look.

regardless, you're not blind. jeremy swayman was taller than he looks, and broader than expected. he also smelt really good, and his smile had you feeling flustered. it had your online persona feeling more real, and your borderline flirty comments had you getting hot and bothered - especially when jeremy flirts and teases back.

off camera, you and jeremy (mostly jeremy) set up the fishing equipment on the dock; poles, extra bait, and even adorable little camping chairs - you really felt like you were getting the premium fisherman experience. he runs over simple fishing techniques and hacks, showing you how to keep ahold of the rod, how to reel your line and casting. the camera catches all your poor attempts, as well as jeremy covering his snicker behind his hand - his amusement at your poor cast very evident.

5 minutes into fishing

you jerk the rod slightly, trying the movements jeremy had showed you just two minutes prior - trying to snag any fish nibbling around your bait.

you sigh gently, pursing your glossy lips outwards. eyeing jermey, you ask, "so like what kind of fish are we exactly trying to catch?"

jeremy hums, "some perch would be nice. or possibly cod, or halibut..." he trails off, eyeing your confused face, and the look you're giving him has a subtle smirk tugging at his upper lip. he breathes a laugh, "you have no idea what I just said, do you?"

you bark an unattractive laugh, and that has jermey's smile deepening. "not a clue."

"that's okay," he assures you immediately, and his leg moves towards you like he was planning to knock your thighs together reassuringly. but your bodies don't touch, and it has you feeling a little disappointed. "everyone has their own interests. besides sports, what else do you like?" he looks towards you quickly, but looks back at the water when he feels his line tug slightly - nothing has bitten unfortunately.

you swing your fishing pole back and forth tiredly, enjoying the way the water ripples from your line moving on the surface. "oh god - honestly i'm into a lot of stuff; movies, books, fashion, food. you name it and i'm into it." you pause, eyeing him playfully. "you must not watch my podcast - I tend to talk about myself a lot."

jeremy looks back at you quickly, but once he sees that you're clearly being playful, his once tight shoulders relax, and he smiles gently. "maybe I get distracted when I watch your podcast and don't catch everything you say."

he was insinuating that he's distracted by your face - his teasing gaze and laughing smirk has you clueing into jermey's underlying undertones.

you clear your throat. you can feel heat rise to your makeup covered cheeks, and you advert your gaze back to the lake - trying to distract yourself from the whirling fluster caused by jermey's flirting. "well guess you'll just have to hear me talk about it all over again."

11 minutes into fishing

"what's your opinion on one direction, jeremy?"

he pauses from reeling his fishing line in momentarily, and a very small, breathy laugh falls from his tinted lips. jeremy looks at you, scratching his stubble in thought. "love them." he admits.

you smile automatically at jeremy's willingness to answer you absurd, random questions - just like he's been doing since you first meet through a zoom meeting for your podcast. your brows raise questionably though, not truly believing that a 25 year old man would vibe to a british teen boy group.

"okay," you hum questionably, "but who's your favourite?"

jeremy doesn't back down, keeping eye contact with you - reeling in his fishing line long forgotten. "who do you think it is?"

now you're invested. you squint at him, deep in thought. you look jermey once over, "probably zayn. yeah, you give big zayn vibes."

he smiles, brows pulled tightly. jeremy jerks his head at you, expression full of curiosity. "who's your favourite?"

"louis." you tell him.

jeremy laughs triumphantly, "i knew you'd be a louis girl."

you click your tongue, and adjust your seating position. without thinking, you let go of the fishing rod so you can push yourself upwards in the chair. before the most likely expensive rod takes a tumble into the misty water, jermey catches it, jolting across your thighs so he can grab it before it plunges.

you don't notice the chaotic series of events, and you smile, still thinking of the one direction conversation. "what can I say," you hum, " I like them a little wild."

jeremy eyes the camera - a mixture of amusement and fear on his face.

19 minutes into fishing

jeremy watches you intently, observing the way you change your bait. there'd been nothing caught yet, and honestly you were playing up the impatient act pretty well.

so, jermey suggested to change the bait on your hook. that way you'd not only be able to have a new opportunity to attract fish, but also learn how to change your lure.

he sighs gently, "okay, you're still not hooking it right." he leans closer to you, the arm rest digging into his muscled side.

"oh, shut up." you grumble, making sure your playful flare is very prevalent in your tone.

jeremy takes the pink bait from your fumbling fingers, properly demonstrating the correct way to attach it to the sharp hook. "you shut up." he echos you, nudging your side with his elbow - his hands not once leaving your fishing rod.

"make me." the underlying suggestiveness that can be taken from your remark doesn't dawn on you at first - but as soon as jeremy pauses, and gives the camera a knowing glance, brow quirked playfully, you realize your mistake.

you blush, and without really knowing what else to do, once jeremy fixes your lure and pulls away, you throw the extra fake fish at him, hitting his bicep.

25 minutes into fishing

"holy shit," you beam, eyeing jeremy beside you. when his posture suddenly changed, as well as his body position- muttering a curse under his breath, you knew something was happening. you watch him reel the line expertly, "do you have a fish right now?"

"yup," jeremy's tongue darts out, tucking against the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on reeling in his catch. it's not much labour for him to bring in the fish, effortlessly lifting it out of the water. it's a pretty big fish, you think, considering you've never seen a living fish this close.

he holds it expertly, detaching the hook lodged in the fishes throat. ones it's free, he switches hands so he's pinching the lip between two fingers, holding it out.

"oh my god, you're like really good at this." you compliment, tilting your head to get a better look at the side of the fish, eyeing its reflective, slippery scales.

"you like that, huh?" he spins the fish in between his fingers, allowing you to get a proper look at all angles. jeremy grins, eyes watching your wondrous face. "want to hold it?"

you frown unpleasantly, eyes darting between jermey's reassuring face and the scaly fish gripped in between his fingers. "I don't know?" it comes out like a question, your weariness about holding the fish clear.

"you got it," he assures you, "come here." he holds his free arm out, silently gesturing you to come towards him.

almost reluctantly, you take the few steps left between you, and stand beside him. the camera catches it all; jeremy practically gentle parenting you as he shows you how to properly hold the fish, the uncertain expression pulling at your face, and the shriek you let out when the fish starts to squirm around - its tail flapping up against your wrist.

"oh it's slimy," you state the obvious, holding it as far away from your body as human possible. it squirms again, and you can feel your fingers slipping away from their grip. you look at a smiling jeremy, who's clearly having fun watching you struggle. "jer, yup."

you gesture the fish at him, eyes darting between the aquatic animal and jeremy.

"he's fine." he smiles through gentle laughter.

"no, no, take the fish."

32 minutes into fishing

you reel in one last time, watching the fish come up from the waters surface, dangling off your hook. it's squirming around, water spraying all over.

jeremy comes up beside you, helping you bring your fishing pole upwards to properly display and hold the fish. "yes, y/n," he smiles praisingly. his arms come around you from behind, adjusting your positioning.

you're too distracted by the fish frolicking around at the end of your clear line to feel flustered by jeremy's closeness - paying no mind to the gentle way he helps you. "oh my god," you beam, "I just caught a fish."

"yeah you did!" jeremy nods encouragingly, slipping his body around to your side. he looks between the fish and your bright eyes, and he squeezes your bicep warmly - oh, he's still got an arm around you. "you gotta try and take it off the hook."

"no. jer, i'm scared!" you tell him immediately, "I can't do that."

"you can," he assures you, "just try once, and if you really feel uncomfortable after that, ill do it, okay?" his warm eyes stare into yours softly, providing a comforting vibe towards your clear uncertainty.

that combined with his sweet smile and the heat of his body, which, yes, his arm was still wrapped assuringly around your body, has you sighing shakily and you nod. "okay, i'll do it. i'll try just for you."

— tiktok video:

when you'd finished up filming, one of the producers who'd been off working in some white, pop-up tent while you'd be with jeremy, informed you that before leaving, they need you and jeremy to make a tiktok.

but surprisingly, they gave you and jeremy a lot of creative freedom with the direction of the video. meaning, you'd get to choose the audio and your positions and presentation of the tiktok.

"twin" the audio starts through the phone, and you mouth the beginning of the song. the camera catches you stepping out of one of the trucks, mimicking you as if you'd just got to the filming sight. you've still got your fishing gear on - rubber overalls and boots included.

the next shot is on jeremy, who you both decided would be at the picnic bench, looking like he was waiting for you. as the audio starts, he whips around towards the camera, lip syncing to the next line of the audio. "where have you been?" he points off camera at you, and his overalls squeak at the friction of movement.

you laugh at him behind the camera, stifling your laugh into a clenched fist. jermey finishes that part of the audio with a large wink in your direction, and you shake your head with amusement- a giant blush covering your cheeks.

"nobody knows me like you do." you're at the picnic table for the next part, and you previously decided to pretend one of the fishing rods was a microphone, singing into it sarcastically.

the audio continues, and jeremy comes into screen behind you, taking the fishing pole turned microphone to sing the next line. "nobody can't love me quite like you can."

the last remaining seconds of the audio, you wanted to capture you and jeremy from a distance. as an ode to your famous podcast episode clip, you and jeremy previously decided on recreating the dirty dancing lift for the video. right before beginning to film the last part, jeremy checks in on you to make sure that you're still feeling okay with being lifted, which sends your heart running rampant in your chest.

the camera is set to slow-mo, but in real life it feels like you're running a million miles an hour. the way jeremy easily lifts you into the air and over his head - his hands splay over the entirety of your hip bones, holding you steady.

you're glad for the ridiculous overalls in this moment, because you think if you'd be able to feel the warmth from his hands too close to your skin, you'd die.

10 minutes later, when you and jeremy are watching the video back, you get all those fluttering, nervous butterflies once again. he laughs against you, body just grazing your backside as he watches the tiktok over your shoulder.

as the lift plays out on the phone, he leans in closer, his chin gently brushing against your shoulder. out of the corner of your eye, you look at him. jeremy is smiling, eyes bright as he watches the end of the tiktok. his woodsy scent is intoxicating, and you can count every freckle sprinkled across his nose with him being so close.

suddenly, he looks at you. his smile doesn't falter, and if anything it changes into a more smirky, excited one. "that's a good one, don't you think?" briefly, you watch his eyes flicker away, landing farther down your flushed face before meeting your gaze again.

you nod once, blinking gently. "yes....really good."

— 9 months later: NHL ALL-STAR GAME

there's not a day that's gone by since the videos of you and jermey had been posted to the barstool media accounts, that you haven't been tagged, sent or mentioned in a clip of the two of you. fans loved you and jeremy, and still continued to blow up not only the fishing video and tiktok, but your podcast as well.

there's also not a day that's gone by since leaving jeremy in his rubberized overalls that you haven't thought of him. in the few conversations you've had face to face with him, you've been left feeling rather smitten and flustered with jeremy swayman. it doesn't help that before you left boston 9 months ago, jeremy had asked for your contact - all smooth and smirky. it obviously had you swooning and giving him your number.

so in all these months, you and jermey had been in contact. it started simple, with sweet check ins every couple days, you congratulating him on wins, and teasing him for his game day suits - but that soon turned into more flirtatious, and playful conversations. on a few occasions, you'd even sent him tiktok edits of himself, accompanied by a sequence of heart eye emojis from you.

jeremy would like and shamelessly comment on all your photos on instagram, and vice versa. which obviously has the shipping edits and comments spiralling to an unfathomable level. at first, you were worried that jeremy would feel uncomfortable with the fans wanting you two together, showing their support through comments and videos - but no, jeremy loved it all.

him having enjoyment in the relationship shipping between you both has you feeling even more into him - your feelings for jeremy growing stronger and stronger. that combined with fun text threads, edits and occasional facetimes from jeremy, has you crushing hard on the bruins goal tender.

two months ago, you had the nhl social administration and event team reached out to your team and ask if you'd been interested in interviewing nhl players on the red carpet for the nhl all star game. it was such a surreal moment and immediately you took the offer.

for the entire two months since accepting the opportunity to be an interviewer for the nhl social team, you'd been looking forward to the february, toronto bound event. the nhl administration has taken care of the expenses, as well as wardrobe and makeup for you - which is wild.

now here you are, standing on the red carpet while interviewing amazingly good nhl superstars. thankfully, you've meet and interviewed a lot of these guys on pucks in deeper, which leaves no room for awkwardness. the players know you and your style of interviewing, and that visibly has them lightning up from their previous over professional exteriors.

you're mid conversation with tom wilson, listening intently as he answers one of your more serious interview questions, when you feel your heart speed up.

it's weird - at first as you're not sure why exactly you've become nervous. you swallow, adjusting the mini-microphone by your painted lips - your gold bracelets clinking against each other. as subtly as you can manage, you let your eyes wander down the carpet, and it doesn't take you long to see and understand the sudden change in your hearts pace.

kids near the entrance of the arena are all calling for jeremy, their hands tightly holding out bruins memorabilia for him to sign.

the light catches the silver chain on jeremy's neck, complimenting his shining smile to make his grin look even brighter. you clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from jeremy and back towards your interviewee. thankfully, tom is clueless to your shift of mood, and is still happily answering into his own tiny microphone.

you've only got one more interview before you get to talk to jeremy. it's with mat barzal, who if you weren't so infatuated by the bruins goalie , you'd been shamelessly flirting with. you'd never had barzal on your podcast before, but that didn't matter - talking with him was anything but akward. it was nice, and (if you aren't going insane) you're pretty sure the islanders forward was flirting with you.

but you're too blinded by jeremy to entertain any of those thoughts. soon enough, he's next in queue, chatting to his assistant without realizing what exactly he's in line for.

you lock eyes as he is directed towards you, and immediately you feel yourself relax. your once tense shoulders fall back into a comfortable position, and your cheeks heat pleasantly as a smile automatically grows on your face. instinctively, you're falling into your interview shoes (currently very glamorous shoes). "you just can't stay away from me for too long, huh?" you tease him as your social director passes him the mini mic.

jermey's smile is matching yours, his gaze not leaving you as he takes the microphone, holding it tightly between two fingers. "what can I say? you look great!"

you drag your free hand down the front of your red dress, the soft material tickling the pads of your tanned fingers. "why thank you, jer. i've got to say i'm digging this look on you - much better than the boring suits you usually wear."

jeremy smiles at your lighthearted jab to his fashion choices. his last game, you'd given him slack on his boring suit choice and had followed with a text thread of insane, over the top suits you'd considered better options. "I was taking inspiration from the ones you'd sent me."

you hope fans don't piece together any insinuations from jermey's comment referencing your texts. although it has you blushing, you recover from your fluster relatively quickly, and you reach towards him, poking one of the black, shiny buttons on jeremy’s jacket. "and tell us what you're wearing mister fancy jacket."

he looks down at the material of his suit jacket, "i've got a custom todd snyder on - very comfortable and stylish. it's just what I was looking for when I was trying to find a jacket for this event."

you nod understandably, "yes, like cute and professional but also cozy."

your chipper tone has jeremy's smile growing. his warm tinted eyes go hazy, and they rather slowly watch you - tracing down your dress covered neck, down your bare arms, and all the way down to your painted toes peeking out your heels. his tongue wets his plump, bottom lip, and his eyes find yours again. "you look cute and cozy."

even if he's meaning it innocently, you can't help but think otherwise. what feels like the 20th time since the start of the interview, you blush. "were twins then." you shrug sweetly, as if to show the audience that the way you were speaking to one another was no big deal - hopefully they buy it …because you certainly don't.

jeremy’s smitten grin grows wider. he bites the skin of his bottom lip, tucking it between his teeth seductively. it's like he's in a trance, which usually would have you feeling creeped out or weird, but because it's jeremy and not some random guy, you feel your skin prickle pleasantly, and your knees begin to feel weak.

the camera man clears his throat - a subtle and gentle reminder that you're supposed to be interviewing jeremy, not eye fucking him.

you blink. "unfortunately, I have to get a little boring, jer. can you tell me and the viewers what you're looking forward to the most at all star weekend. sorry I know, boring and repetitive." you stick your tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

your noise mimicks a fart if anything, and jermey laughs a real laugh - all teeth and squinted eyes. he rubs his chin in thought, but comes up with an answer pretty quickly. for the first time tonight, his media training is kicking in. "i'm really looking forward to just spending time with all these amazing guys and having fun on the ice."

teasingly, you purse your painted lips, cocking your head to the left. "so not me?"

through his constant grin, jeremy clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth - nodding at your correction. "okay, maybe you too."

you give the camera lenses an unimpressed look, as if to say - is this guy being for real? you shake your head, playing into your annoyed persona. "since our fishing video together, which thank you to the fans for blowing that up -"

"- oh my good, yes, thank you." jeremy adds on, nodding thoughtfully.

you continue, "fans want to know...what is your favourite one direction song?"

jeremy exhales loudly, eyes bouncing between you and the camera lens - a whisper of a curse heard from under his breathe.

you nod understandably, "we've really got the hard hitting questions, so I can understand if you need to take a second to think-"

"kiss you." jermey interrupts with a triumphant tone, and he looks very proud of his answer.

"that was pretty fast - why kiss you?"

his slinky smile is back, and it has your stomach falling all the way down to your feet. "why not?" jeremy shrugs one suit covered shoulder nonchalantly, and the sleeve of his jacket brushes against your bare arm at the same time.

you smile, "what's been your favourite part of toronto so far?"

this time, jermey's answer is instant. "you."

you laugh proudly, nodding in approval. "that's a better answer."

behind the camera, one of the social directors holds up a pamphlet, one that she'd change throughout the night. it only ever said a last name - the last name of whichever nhl player was next and approaching your interview area. it was essentially a one minute warning, and she was trying to tell you to start wrapping up your conversation with jeremy.

disappointment pangs deep into your chest, the thought of having to part ways from jeremy is not one you enjoy.

reluctantly, you look away from the director holding william nylander's name up over the camera man, and set your gaze back on jeremy. "okay, i've got a two part question. firstly, are you up for a little challenge?"

he nods, "right now I think you could probably talk me into anything. so yes."

your heart flutters but you stay composed. "good. secondly, which celebrity team do you hope picks you? because personally i'm hoping you get team tate, so you can sneak me in for a picture with her."

jermey laughs again, his head rolling backwards. "obviously id be happy with any team, but if I get tate...I got you."

you smile brightly, "thanks jer."

"anytime."

"we appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to chat with us, we always love catching up with you."

"thank you for having me, y/n/n." the sudden nickname has your heart beat coming to a dramatic halt, and from now on all you ever want to hear is jeremy swayman's voice, saying your name over and over again.

there's a brief moment before nylander gets to your portion of the carpet - he is currently too caught up with screaming fans and paparazzi. the camera lens isn't focused on you as the camera man fiddles with some of the dials, affectively blocking the two of you from its view.

jeremy passes the tiny microphone back to you, and his fingers graze yours softly on the way back. you swallow nervously, meeting his gaze once more.

he clears his throat and suddenly he seems almost...nervous. he rubs his hand against his jawline scruff once, a nervous habit he’s always had. "hey, after the stuff going on tonight, a couple guys and their girlfriends were planning on getting dinner. I was wondering if you'd like to tag along?"

your eyes widen in suprise, "guys and their girlfriends?"

he breathes laugh, "yeah. I want you to come with me."

"okay," you nod bashfully, "i'll come."

you watch william nylander enter your queue behind jermey's broad shoulder, chatting happily with your director as she goes over the process. you've interviewed nylander before, so it will be another breezy and entertaining interview- especially with the swedes personality.

jeremy's grin is blinding, bringing you back into reality. "great," he sighs, "i'll text you after."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

-- DINNER

you take another hearty gulp of your spiced red wine, letting the clash of flavours sit on your tongue briefly before swallowing fully.

you're on your third - maybe fourth? - glass of your preferred wine, and sure, maybe you were using the buzz as a way to calm your erratic, exited heart. since jeremy had texted you after the events of the all star celebrity draft, you've been filled with happy butterflies - and only a part of that was because of the picture he sent you of him with tate mcrae.

jeremy had walked to your hotel room -he didn't want to just meet outside or just meet at the restaurant, he picked you up on the 10th floor of the expensive toronto hotel. he had complimented your new, dinner appropriate outfit - a shiny maroon top with sleek pants and jacket and you had shared the compliment back at him.

you had to clench your thighs together to calm yourself when you were right outside the extravagant glass entryway of the restaurant, pastrnak just seeing and waving you both over, when jeremy leaned down, lips brushing your ear and admitted he hadn't stopped thinking about you and your sexy little dress.

so, yeah, the wine was definitely needed. you stab one of the only remaining potatoes onto your expensive silverware, bringing it up and past your lips. you chew lazily, listening quietly to the conversations around you. after all, it had been a few hours of meaningless conversations since you and jeremy arrived - your borderline drunk brain needed a minute.

the potato was cold now, and the gravy coated it had that slimey film coating. you pull a face to yourself, chewing the mushy food quicker than before, trying to get to swallowing it faster.

fingers tickle your arm over the sheer material of your blouse - jacket long abandoned over the back of your chair. you look over to jeremy, who's got his arm rested loosely on top your jacket - the culprit of your bicep tickles.

he looks amused, "you okay?"

with no regards to the food in your mouth, you turn towards him and begin to speak. "my potato is cold."

jeremy chuckles lowly, continuing the leisure up and down motion with the pads of his fingers against your covered skin. "want to spit it out?" he can tell you're teetering on drunk, and he doesn't mind at all. you're at the perfect level of buzzed - still controlled and conscious, but also having no care in the world. jeremy feels pleased that you feel comfortable enough to let go with him, and he finds amusement with your usual laid back, humorous behaviour.

you shake your head, finally swallowing the food in your mouth. you turn your body into his, and push your body against the side of your chair, trying to get closer to the man beside you. jeremy raises his brows questionably, the start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't spit."

the suggestive undertones to your words don't go unnoticed, and jeremy is spluttering. his cheeks tint pink, and he takes a harsh swallow. you bite down onto your lip to contain the flurry of giggles that want to pass, and you lean further into jermey's bicep behind you.

finally, he collects himself. behind you, you can feel his elbow bend, and with the new position he can come around to the side of your head - his fingers taking some of your hair between them, gently running through your strands. "no?"

you shake your head. "nuh uh."

"so, y/n." the sound of a fork hitting someone's plate combined with them calling your name, has you pulling away and out of jermey's personal bubble. you're back to the reality of who you are and what you're doing here - not just at dinner tonight, but in toronto this week. you're supposed to be a professional. your cheeks flush with the guilt of feeling caught - even though you're not actually doing anything wrong.

kenna, mat barzal's girlfriend, is looking at you expectantly, her pointed chin resting on her tanned palm. you resist the urge to huff at the sight of her sour face. since the start of the evening, kenna has been very passive aggressive towards you - no compliment was given without a condescending remark. not only that, but mat had been very flirty and friendly with you since the red carpet, and although you've been unresponsive to him, it only fuelled kenna's fire.

she hums in faux interest, eyeing you and jeremy. "so like, it must be nice with your podcast and having the pick of like any and every nhl player you want, huh?"

a couple of people sitting at the lengthy table hear, and they look down at you quickly. you laugh awkwardly, eyes briefly meeting the crisp, white table cloth below you. you shrug, "I suppose? everyone is really nice, and i'm very grateful for their support."

she laughs, "I mean, like, do you just like, fuck any of them?"

her words are like a stab to your chest. all those derogatory hate comments and misogynistic remarks come rushing back to you. you don't know what to say, even though no, you've never hooked up or dated any nhl player, especially while you're working with them. but you can also understand why kenna would think that - the way you're cuddling up and talking with jeremy is very much telling.

that guilty feeling is back, and all you can do is just stare at kenna's smug face - mouth open wordlessly.

"I don't think it's any of your business, honestly." jeremy’s voice is firm, but not unkind, as he responds for you. "it's nobody business but hers. y/n is ridiculously good at her job, and she is way past the point of having to prove that she's serious about her work."

kenna laughs it off, mentioning something about just playing around as she takes another sip of her mixed drink. the conversation slowly starts up around you again, and without the attention focused on you and the awkward exchange, you feel like you can finally exhale.

you look at over at jeremy, your eyes glossy and wide. his expression is hard, and his brows are pulled tightly together in irritation.

"you didn't need to say anything...I'm used to those kind of comments." you try and dismiss your feelings - trying to lighten the mood, but jeremy doesn't buy it.

he shakes his head, "you shouldn't have to deal with that - especially from some douche bags girlfriend."

the end of his sentence has you cracking into a smile, a breathy laugh following. "thank you." you take a quick inhale, stopping your quiet laughter. your face turns serious again, "but I don't do that - i'm not some crazed, horny, puck bunny in disguise. that's not what this is." you gesture between the two of you without thinking, and you feel your lips falling into a frown - your emotions catching up to you.

jeremy mimics your frown, and before he can stop himself, he reaches out and takes ahold of your hand. he gently keeps ahold of you, bringing your hand down to rest on his lap. jeremy runs his thumb along the wrinkles of your palm, soothing you. "you don't need to justify anything to me."

you nod silently.

"ready to head out?" jeremy questions gently. you answer yes quickly, letting jeremy help you out of your seat and into your winter jacket. he gives david some money - enough to cover both of your meals before he guides you out of the restaurant, hand in yours.

the walk back to the hotel is pleasant, the once lingering awkward feeling from the restaurant vanishing once you and jeremy were alone. like earlier in the night, jeremy comes to your hotel door - he doesn't suggest that you'll go your separate ways once in the elevators, or part ways in the lobby, he doesn't even hesitate to walk you back.

before you swipe your key card in the holder, you torn to face jeremy. you smile, leaning your bodies weight onto the closed hotel door. "I had a nice time tonight, jer - although I think it's only because you were there."

he laughs gently, "i'm glad you came."

you cringe at yourself and your rather rude insinuation about everyone else at the restaurant tonight - even if it was true. "sorry, when I drink wine I have a hard time controlling my mouth."

jeremy shuffles closer to you, so subtle that you don't even register him moving. he shrugs, "I don't mind. they deserve it."

you giggle. "and you also look really good - like, all the time. I haven't stopped thinking about you in fucking, like, 9 months." you shake your head, "sorry - the wine." you remind him.

"don't apologize, if wine makes you say things like that, I never want you to stop drinking it." jeremy reaches out to you, resting his large hand on the side of your jaw. his thumb strokes your ear lobe softly, running over your studded earring.

your stomach swoops, silently looking up at him. jeremy is so much taller than you, standing over you like a damn giant. the position of you two has you feeling small - sexy. your tongue darts out, wetting your lips. your lipstick has faded throughout the night, and your spit adds more colour to them - more appeal.

but jeremy thinks you've never not looked like the most beautiful, amazing, appealing woman he's ever seen. he smirks slowly, a warm, syrupy feeling in the air around you. "I really like you, y/n - so much that it's kind of embarrassing."

you smile, "I don't think it's embarrassing, especially because I feel the same way....but I think my wine mouth gave that away."

"it sort of did." he teases.

you huff gently, eyes twinkling with amusement. before you can say anything back, jeremy leans down and kisses you. the wine flavours mix between you, and the exchange of quick kisses combined with slow, tongue chasing kisses making your knees buckle.

jeremy presses you further against the door, his thigh slotting between yours to provide an extra form of stimulation. you sigh into his mouth, holding onto his shoulders warmly as you continue to make out in the hotel hallway.

reluctantly, you pull away. you're breathing heavy, heart pumping loudly through your ears from the adrenaline high. "maybe we should clam down - we're in public."

"shhh," kiss. "just a little bit more." his words are mumbled, his lips brushing against yours. jeremy’s lips find yours again, and all your worries float away.

you blindly grab ahold of your key card, and it takes a couple of attempts of trying to slide it through without the use of your vision - but you get it. jeremy’s lips don't leave yours, and you don't want them too. he uses his body to push you both through the door and into the hotel room, kicking the door shut with his dress shoe behind him.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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andy-wm · 7 months ago

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Jikook - The Fan Service Professionals

These two are such pros when it comes to fan service, they even practice behind the scenes. Dedication with a capital D! Even during the height of Covid, when there were no performances on the horizon, they were diligently keeping up the charade.

The newly released Bangtan Bomb of the BE Skit recording is a great example...

It is 2020, JK's birthday, and the Billboard #1 win for Dynamite has just been announced. Five of the guys file into a recording studio and sit down. Namjoon leaves an obvious gap next to Jimin.

JK arrives a few minutes later and takes his place... next to Jimin.

The group discusses the fact that the Billboard win was announced on JK's birthday and that he clearly needs no more gifts. What happens next is interesting...

JK tells them he received the best gift of his life and Jimin speaks for the first time since JK entered the room, jumping in to say "We're recording Skit, right?"

I've never seen anyone change the subject with such haste as this. In fact i might go so far as to say the way Jimin interrupted was ...almost rude! (But not really rude, because.. .he's Jimin)

But I digress...

The producer tells Jimin they're already recording and Jimin glances furtively at the microphone to confirm. Yes, the red light is on, it is indeed recording.

He laughs and slaps his thigh. Something must be really funny because he continues to laugh behind his hand, which is SUCH a tell for when he's embarrassed.

Long after everyone else has moved on, Jimin is still smiling to himself.

Maybe it's because JK just announced to the world that he got the best birthday gift OF HIS LIFE.

But he didn't specify what it was. He didn't say it was the Billboard win. And it looks like that birthday gift went on all night because the boy is clearly exhausted.

Anyway, moving on...

They start practicing their "fan service routine" at this point:

Without a word being exchanged between them, Jimin stands up and gives JK space to change his position. He then sits down next to JK and adopts the exact same position, with folded legs. Tick the box for mirroring behaviour

The next part of routine is connecting through touch - you know - how genuine couples touch each other as a way of checking in? Yeah like that. (Somehow I see caressing a person with your knuckles as more intimate than using your palm, but maybe that's just me)

And then there's a different type of touch - that body contact that comes with intimacy and familiarity. When you're a new couple this type of thigh touch can be very titilating but when you've been together for a while it's more comforting than sexy (although there's definitely an element of sexy too). At this point they are barely interacting, aside from Jimin's arm draped over JK's thigh and his fingers resting casually on JK's shin like it's his own personal armrest... he's certainly covering all the bases on that leg.

uuummm... okay, well played Jikook...

10/10 fan service here I guess.

Anything else that might have happened in this 'practice session' was lost on the cutting room floor, but one thing is for certain... neither Jimin nor JK got a wink of sleep on the night of JK's birthday.

Some may say it's because of the BB #1 win but I don't see any of the other guys in such a state of disarray as these two.

One thing that is obvious though:

Whatever the two of them were celebrating, they went at it all night long.

*cue Barry White*

#jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #kookmin #국민 #true love #bts dynamite #bangtan bomb #festa 2024

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missempanada · 7 months ago

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youtube

In honor of the Haikyuu movie being released globally, here's the song I wrote back in 2020 a week before the manga ended. I wrote, produced and recorded it in three days with a cheap Blue Yeti microphone. It contains references to many different scenes and phrases.

I'm still trying to figure out a way of making this song reach Furudate-sensei because this song in itself is my way to thank them for their hard work and I think they should know how much it means to other people. So if anyone got any ideas please let me know.

Reblogs are really appreciated as they are the only way for this to reach people and if you liked it please comment on the video as it helps with the algorithm. Support your artists!

#haikyuu #haikyuu movie #hq #hq fanart #battle of the garbage dump #hinata shouyou #kozume kenma #kageyama tobio #kuroo tetsurou #tsukishima kei #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu the dumpster battle #kagehina #kenhina #kuroken #haikyuu fanart #Youtube #karaneko

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olivesjaw · 7 months ago

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#my remote workspace is all set up & ready to go ^-^#diary #microphones in 2020 book aka my bible in the center

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infamousbrad · 6 months ago

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Biden's "Dean Scream"?

A week and a half ago, I was convinced that "Biden had one bad debate performance" was going to be a 3-day story. But now I see why it wasn't. (I mean, aside from the fact that summer is Silly Season in US journalism.) How well do you remember Howard Dean's final run for the Democratic nomination?

Howard Dean was a "progressive" by the standards of his time, that is to say, slightly to the left of, say, Richard Nixon at a time when the post-Bill-Clinton center-right wing of the Democratic Party totally controlled the nomination process, and he was running on an FDR-liberal type platform.

And the press spent the whole time he was in the race asking him the same question over and over again, "Does this mean that you're angry at the 'Third Way' Democrats? I'll bet you're angry at Bill Clinton and the 'Third Way' Democrats? Governor Dean, why don't you say a word about how angry you are?" Because if he was still running against "militant centrism" in a post-liberal party, he must be angry, right?

But he really wasn't. I never saw him actually get angry that whole campaign. He was happy to have inspired so many volunteers, and proud of his plan to rejuvenate the state-party apparatuses in written-off "red states," and never not happy to talk to a reporter, any reporter. Which was all the proof they needed to show that he was not only angry, he was nefarious. Because they couldn't imagine any plausible reason why anybody would go to as much effort as he did unless they were genuinely angry.

After the New Hampshire primary, he stood up in front of a group of his campaign volunteers to cheer them on, and they handed him a defective microphone. So he screamed his cheers into the dead microphone, so the volunteers in the back could hear him over the din. But the press microphones? Worked. And he didn't sound excited, he sounded deranged. And I swear to God, 100% of the political press reported it as "Howard Dean finally reveals his inner anger," even though the video shows him grinning and smiling like a child on Christmas.

Why could nothing disprove the "Howard Dean is the Angry Candidate" theory before, why was evidence to the contrary taken as proof it was true?

Because it fit the pre-existing narrative.

Look, we have never not known that Biden's age was going to be a problem. Even as he was sweeping the primaries in 2020, it came up. That's where the "he knows he's too old, he's just reassuring older voters that the party is normal, he's going to step aside for Kamala Harris" rumor got started, remember that? No matter how many times Biden himself denied it?

And if there was any truth to it, there's no point to it now. She hasn't gotten any better at either of the president's jobs, not at public speaking nor at shepherding legislation, so unsurprisingly she polls even worse than Biden.

Should Biden be replaced because he's getting slower and more mumbly as he ages? Did Reagan? He sailed to easy re-election despite the fact he was visibly declining by the end of his first term, way faster than Biden is now. His White House Chief of Staff, Howard Baker, was, by all accounts, acting president for at least three years, making sure that the last person to talk to Reagan before he had to make a decision was the person Baker thought that Reagan would have agreed with if he could remember anything that was happening around him.

(It's not even the most extreme example in US national politics: look up stories about Strom Thurmond's last term in the Senate, which was full-on "Weekend at Bernie's.")

An entirely senile top official who put a good team into place before he sundowned can do a perfectly good job. And trying to replace him would just hand the election to Trump. So no, even if he were as tired and confused as the press and jealous Democrats are painting him, that wouldn't be a good reason to replace him, not at this late of a date.

(If the entire party apparatus had discussed this behind closed doors and agreed to set up, say, Michigan's governor Whitmer or Pennsylvania's governor Shapiro as an agreed-upon backup candidate in case something like this happened, and gotten it done no later than, say, spring of '23, we'd have a minimally plausible option. But we didn't, so we don't. The choice isn't Biden or someone better, it's Biden vs Trump or Trump unopposed.)

But even given how weak-sauce the argument that a few verbal slips and mutters mean that Biden can't perform the duties of the president is, I suddenly realize now why it wasn't a three-day story. Just like the Dean Scream, he handed them the proof they needed of something they've been saying for four years, long before it was true, and everybody loves being "proved" right. Because, as I always say:

Confirmation bias is a hell of a drug.

#us politics #us election 2020 #us election 2024 #joe biden #howard dean #dean scream

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago

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Fun and Games

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request something with Jensen Ackles, where the reader is Jeffrey daughter and Jensen wife and the fans asks Jeffrey who he find out about her daughter dating Jensen? Something fluff with funny between them

Summary: Your husband brings you along to one of his panels with your dad, and you make the mistake of telling the fans a prank you pulled on your dad. He has some stories of you, too, and everything comes to light right then and there.

Square Filled: locked in a playground (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

“Why’d you have to drag me out to this thing? I could have been sitting at home in the bath reading my book,” you say to your husband.

Jensen wraps his arms around your waist and slides his hands to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before sliding his hands into your back pockets.

“What do you mean? You love coming with me to these things.” These things being conventions with thousands of screaming fans for all kinds of fandoms. You love going with him but you kind of wish you could be at home right now. “I’ll tell you what. If you endure the next seven hours with me here, I’ll give you a massage when we get home.”

“A real one?” you grin.

“Oil and all.”

“Will you be naked?”

“Is there any other way?” he chuckles.

“I love you.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth.”

Jensen leans down and molds his lips against your own. Being married to him is the best thing you could have ever done. There is never a dull moment in the Ackles house. The door to the break room opens and you pull away from your husband. Your dad, Jeffrey, steps inside to steal a quick snack.

“Come on, kids. We’re on,” he grins mischievously.

“What are you up to?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Nothing. I have a feeling this panel is about to be a good one.”

Your dad leaves and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“He’s gonna tell the story again, isn’t he?”

“Probably,” Jensen shrugs.

“He’s told everyone he knows about that damn story but never to an audience. I better not see a bunch of memes tomorrow about it.”

“Knowing the fans, probably. Stay off social media for the next week,” he laughs and walks out.

“It’s not funny! Jensen!”

You follow your husband to where your dad is, and all three of you step on stage to greet all the fans who came to watch your panel. They cheer when they see you, and you take a microphone from one of the crew members. You’re not an actor, in fact, you’re far from it. However, you love the community Supernatural fans have created, and love going to these things with Jensen and Jared.

After greetings are done, Jensen and your dad get into the groove of things. They thank people for coming out here, yada, yada, yada. This panel is very inclusive so a lot of fans have questions about upcoming episodes, your lives behind the scenes, and just funny stories of things that have happened to you. No question is off the table so you prepare yourself for whatever comes.

“This question is for Y/N,” a fan asks once the questioning portion of the panel starts.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

“Lovely name! I like your hat!”

“Okay, let the girl get to her questions,” Jensen jokes.

“I’m just giving her a compliment. Calm down, old man.” A round of laughter rolls out. “Go ahead, Jessica.”

“I know you were an extra in this last season in a few scenes. My question is, what’s been one of the funniest moments you remember from filming?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” you grin. You’re not an actor, but you’ve been in a few scenes as a bystander when needed. Jensen loves taking you on set so you can watch, so even if you’re not filming, you’re there to witness their shenanigans. “Okay, you guys remember the episode where my dad guest stared? John Winchester comes back for an episode?”

A round of cheers lets you know they know exactly what you’re talking about.

“You’re really going to tell this story?” your dad asks you.

“I’m telling the story,” you grin. “I’m not sure this is going to make it on the blooper reel or not, but remember the part when Sam was going to crush that small white rock to get rid of John and send him back to the past? Well, we were all super serious and everyone is so in character. Emotions are high and we’re doing our best not to cry. Well, when Jared went to crush the rock, it didn’t shatter as we hoped. Instead, it flew off the table and hit my dad right in the crotch. I swear it was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Jensen, Jared, and I were on the floor in tears.”

“It took us a while to get back into character, but that was a nice break from character,” Jensen grins.

“Oh! I got another story!”

“Really? Another one?” your dad asks.

“So, this was when I was visiting Jen on set but I wanted to pull a prank on my dad since he was coming in that week to film that same episode.”

“Why are you telling them this story?” your dad groans.

“Shh, they’re gonna love it. So, I worked with the director to get him in on this prank. He gave me access to his work email that I then used to send my dad an email regarding the dress code at work.”

You can’t contain your giggles at this point.

“Keep it up, Y/N,” your dad nods.

“Shh! I told him it was dress-as-a-clown-to-work day. Everyone was going to be in costume and we were going to surprise one of the makeup artists since it was her birthday. He believed me.” Everyone starts laughing at what’s to come. “When he showed up that morning in the funkiest clown costume set with the red nose, the rainbow hair, and the big ol’ clown feet, we all died laughing. I even got a video,” you smirk.

Before your dad can protest, you had one of the crew members put it up on the screen behind you so everyone can see. Your dad walks in wearing the clown suit and realization rolls over his face when he knows you set him up. Everyone in the audience is laughing while your dad is smirking at you. You’re not paying attention to him to notice it otherwise you would have turned it off.

“Yeah, so that was a fun day on set.” The video ends. “The best part is, we kept him in that suit all day.”

“You think that’s funny?” your dad asks. Jensen can’t contain his laughter but tries to cover it with a cough. “You wanna go there? Fine. It’s my turn to tell a story.”

“Wait, Dad--”

“No, no, no, you had your fun. It’s my turn now.”

“You’re going to drag me down with her?” Jensen asks.

“You bet your ass.”

You get up to jog off stage when your husband grabs your arm and yanks you back into him.

“Nope. If I have to sit here and endure this, so are you.”

“So, would you all like to know how I knew my daughter was dating Jensen?” Everyone cheers to let him know they are interested. “This was back when I was a regular on the show. Y/N had come on set a few times and was getting friendly with Jensen. I thought nothing of it until one day when I was sitting at home minding my own business.

“I get a call from Y/N where she tells me not to ask any questions and to meet her. I figure she’s in some kind of trouble so I tell her to send me the address and I’m on my way. When she does, I get my beloved baseball bat just in case I need to beat someone’s ass. I rush over to where she is thinking she was at a bar, a friend’s house, whatever. I did not expect to pull up to a child’s playground.

“Still, I’m in protective dad mode. I hear her calling my name so I run over to where she is and stop dead in my tracks. In the child’s castle-dome thing is my daughter, on top of Jensen, naked, stuck in the arch. I mean, I’ve been a little adventurous in my day, but a child’s playground? Seriously?”

“God,” you scoff and shove your face into your husband’s neck.

“Did you call for help?” someone in the audience asks.

“Yeah after about ten minutes of laughing my ass off.”

“Okay,” you say into your mic and pull away from Jensen, “in my defense, that opening looked wider than I thought.” Your dad laughs loudly but you turn to him with a glare. “Don’t start this game with me. I know some shut about you. Better stop now before I tell them about how you mistook some young lady as mom and almost gotten the shit beaten out of you.”

A round of “oohs” sound off, and your dad puts both hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

That incident happened nearly thirteen years ago so you can laugh about it now. You don’t care if people know because it is a funny story. You’re just glad to have stories like that to share. It’s all fun and games, but at the end of the day, you’re surrounded by love.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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libraford · 9 months ago

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Okay so here's the rundown of everything that happened with the radio station because omg is it some drama.

In the 90's, there were a lot more independently-run radio stations. There wasn't IHeartRadio and there wasn't SiriusFM or JackFM. A dude could just have a radio station frequency and start a radio station as long as they complied with FCC regulations. And one of these radio stations in Columbus was an alternative station called CD101.

That frequency was sold to a classical station, which is fine because the exchange was friendly. And then the station moved to a different frequency, CD102.5.

So I know it may seem like radio DJ's are just weirdos with microphones and that's just not true- they are TALENTED weirdos with a microphone. You have to be personable, you have to know about the music you're playing, you have to be enthusiastic. And this station was pretty good about programming- they played local music, they played deep cuts, they played weird shit. There were programs for oddball and punk and goth music. They ran charities, they were at local festivals, they were in parades. Their radio station even had a small concert venue attached to it and they would invite visiting musicians to play. Like it really was about community.

But.

Radio stations are expensive, and they get more expensive every year, and in 2020 they were unable to renew their FCC license.

And then a couple months later, they were back again under CD 92.9. A radio station rented out the frequency to them and they were able to get back on the air. It was like nothing ever happened.

I'm not going to know what happened between the owner the frequency (Mark) and the owner of the station (Randy) because there's a lot of people talking about Mark overcharging on rent and Randy being late or short on payments.

An agreement was drawn up to have Randy buy the frequency over a period of (I think) 5 years. But the price was high and the terms of termination were brutal (if he was even one day late on a payment, it constituted termination of the contract). And Randy found those terms to be unreasonable.

So, they announced that the radio station would be going off the air February 1, 2024. And we're all pretty upset! Like, not to be like 'this station saved my life,' but this was a pretty consistent source of event news for me and its how I learned about a lot of concerts and artists. They played one of my friend's bands pretty often and its like 'hell yeah, I know that flutist!'

The DJs of CD92.9 said their good-byes on Facebook.

Meanwhile...

The new DJ of the new station announced that it was always his destiny run the station, and that the new station would be More local music, More deep cuts, More weird shit- and No Billie Eilish. "Out with the old, in with the new."

On one of the old DJ's good-bye posts, the new DJ tried to recruit him to the new station.

"Really? You're trying to poach me on my good-bye post?"

Mark makes a statement that the station will be committed to 'continuing the legacy of CD92.9' and will be using the same programming, the same music, the same DJ's.

Randy says 'the fuck it will, that wasn't the deal' and files a C&D. The DJ's are allowed to work for the new station if they so please, but the new station is not going to inherit shit. They cannot use the same programming, their staff, or any of the thousands of recordings they've use in the past 30 years. Any branding or attempt to brand as similar to CD92.9 is a breach of contract.

A facebook group formed around the support of CD 92.9. How to help, how to get their online stream onto your phone, upcoming events, sponsors to support, and a healthy amount of bitching. Admittedly, some of the posts were REAL stretches- like... I'm sorry darling, I know you want it to happen, but you are NOT going to get them on copyright infringement because their red X logo looks kind of like a similar red X logo from a radio station in Milwaukee.

CD92.9 goes down, 93X goes up.

He does play some more uncommon music, sure. But he doesn't announce who the artist is so its kind of like... what's the point in that? If you just play a local band, but we don't know who the local band is, how are we going to go to their concerts? He'd also talk smack about some bands and its like... don't? You're a public face now.

And then there's the radio edits, which he chose not to play on occasion, so the radio was full of f-bombs. FCC violation.

And as a DJ, simply not charismatic. Like I realize he's not Blorbo from my radio, but like I said- DJing is a skill.

So I just didn't listen. It wasn't worth my time to try. I found a different, less cool station to listen to in the car and I listened to the stream at home.

The mood of the facebook group shifted more towards support for the sponsors, events planned around 92.9, news about who is leaving and who is staying and we just kind of let 93X exist.

The promise of 'no Billie Eilish' fell through pretty quickly. Their music selection dropped to the usual 'alternative music' packet of Imagine Dragons and Twenty-One Pilots. And eventually...

They went off the air. After one month of airtime, it is now an oldies station.

93X DJ said 'well, congratulations you got what you wanted.' Which is half right. We wanted them to tank and our old station to succeed. We're still hopeful about the second part.

The Dispatch ran an article about the short-lived station. Ends with:

So just for like... summary-

Ya'll took over the station with a committed listener base, claimed that you'd be just continuing business as usual, tried to poach their talent, hired someone with no problem talking shit, and when your station failed...

... you want to blame a Facebook Group?

Are you a child?

Anyways, if you'd like to hear an alternative rock station in Columbus that's just doing their best, here's a link to the stream!

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thatsdemko · 1 year ago

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to live, to learn, and to love - d.ricciardo

masterlist

pairings: Daniel ricciardo x athlete!reader

warnings: time jump + talks of Covid + some depression talks + some inaccuracies of Daniels career

a/n: hope this cheers everyone up xx

2018 - to live

“so what do you guys have planned this summer?” you ask. the tiny microphone clipped to your shirt is finally off for good. for the first time in a year, cameras would no longer follow your ever move, microphones would no longer hover of your head, you could go back to a normal life of training and relaxing. freedom at last.

“we are actually filming a new docuseries, ever heard of formula one?”

you shake your head, puzzle look on your face creates a little laughter from everyone’s lips as they agreed to never hearing about it until Daniel. whoever Daniel was, he seemed to be quite popular to the crew.

“I guess I haven’t, but hey I’m all about growing sports.”

“well you wouldn’t believe where we get to go next weekend— you should come! it’ll be so much fun.”

the film crew talks of Monaco and the infamous track that they’ve learned can be brutal but kind. their invitation lingers around the room for a couple more minutes as crew begins to clean up the scene.

“so? you coming or what?”

“when’s the plane leave?”

—

Monaco roars with noise you’ve never heard. so much so, the noise canceling headphones can’t even drown out the cheers for the drivers. you spend all mid-afternoon shaking hands and learning names of the drivers you’re sure you’ll forget by the night. but Daniel sticks out.

you knew right away who he was. by the laughter and his smile, he had a way with the crew that nobody on your team had. the smile on all the crew members for not only Netflix, but his own team were contagious. he had you smiling within minutes.

“congratulations on your season and Netflix series! I’ve got it downloaded for the plane ride.” he engulfs you into a tight hug for a brief second before showing you his car. the mighty Red Bull car, sleek in its red and blue stripes under the Monaco sun, his pride is contagious, you can’t help but grow confidence in his racing skills.

“how’s Monaco treating you?” you look up at him, his tan skin kissed by the sun and genetics, his beautiful brown curls make your fingers itch to run through them. it’s not only his smile that makes your stomach twirl, it’s all of him.

“just about alright, I’ve got a good spot on the grid and I’m ready to kick ass.” he claps his hands mischievously making a laugh escape your body.

“you’ll do great! I believe in you!”

you like to think your words of encouragement solidified his win in Monaco, but that would be a selfish reason. you’d like to hate Monaco for all the reasons why you left completely enamored by Daniel ricciardo.

2020 - to learn

boredom struck. your legs, mind, and rest of your body itch to train while you’re copped up in your parents house; a tragedy as nobody else lives here. you sit alone in the basement that once had become your personal gym, but now only has a treadmill that you’ve become bored of.

you huff out a sigh, looking around the room there’s not one object heavy enough for you to lift. you curse your parents for taking all the things you needed to their stupid summer home, and you curse them for not wanting to spend time with you.

loneliness was at an all time high. you’d become so exhausted of it, that talking to yourself became the only answer. it was the only thing you had left.

you moved from the big city where all your teammates stayed put. you didn’t bother to look back once restrictions were set in place, you needed to be somewhere sane, but rather that was the opposite. you were going insane.

an alert on your phone pulls you away from the five pound weights in your hand. you look down on the floor to see an Instagram notification which was awfully unusual.

danielricciardo: if I show up on a horse in Austin, would that get me laid?

yourusername: depends. who are you trying to get with?

you can’t help but laugh. you hadn’t heard from him in four years. you’d occasional check his instagram, see what he was doing, and even become friends on LinkedIn, but the boredom must’ve been at an all time high for him to message you.

danielricciardo: you.

—

“I’d kiss the chef.” he says almost immediately once your face comes up on the screen. the apron you’re wearing was to prevent spilling or messes to your clothes, it was definitely not an attractive sight. but to Daniel it was.

“you can kiss me right here.” you point to your ass, hearing his laugh erupt on the other side of the screen. it was morning time in Perth, and by morning, you meant way to fucking early in the morning for anyone but him to be awake.

“what are you making?”

“none of your business.”

“well it’s my business when you call me.” he says watching you prop up the cook book that lay beside your phone. you point to the page that had flour, sugar, and all other ingredients across the page.

“ah a birthday cake, and who’s this for?”

“my neighbor. he turns ninety tomorrow so it’s a big deal! it has to be good!”

“and you need my help why?” he reminds you of why you called. you stick out your tongue and your middle finger earning a laugh. you want more of that laughter, you’d do anything to hear it in person again.

“because what do men like? I need to get him a gift.”

“y/n, I’m thirty. I’m not even close to ninety are you insinuating I’m old?”

a blush creeps into your cheeks that’s noticeable on the screen, “I’m kidding! I get why you called, you don’t have to close off.”

in the minimal amount of time knowing Daniel, he calls you out on all of your shit. like how he knows you missed garbage day based off the way your bathroom looks, or how he judges you for not taking the chance to run faster. he’s far worse than personal trainer, but you’d keep him around for his honesty and his kindness.

“I have to go to the store early tomorrow, so what do you think he’d like?”

“you didn’t buy toilet paper again?”

“people don’t listen to the two per person rule! I swear!”

he tsks you so much you can’t even put in a single word. your nervous laughter fills his ears and warms his chest. why did you have to live thousands of miles away? he’s praying they find a cure for Covid fast, he doesn’t think he can live another second without you.

2021 - to learn

a new year, a new set of restrictions, oh and you.

you, in the silly 2021 plastic glasses, sit on the couch in the mixed of his friends and family in his Monaco home. he couldn’t believe the sight, it was a winter miracle you’d made it out alive of the winter storm to his side.

after months of talking, you’d considered yourselves dating. it was different—with not being physically intimate or even having real dates—but the attraction and energy that flowed through you two was undeniable. you couldn’t stay friends, not after every phone call, text message, and filthy instagram dm, Daniel ricciardo wove his way right into your heart.

“what’s your wish for new years?”

“wish? isn’t it a resolution?” you give him a pointed look watching his hands fly up in defense, “we do things differently here. we don’t set goals, we set wishes. so what do you wish for?”

you think long and hard for a moment staring at the man in front of you. his brown eyes full of life and beauty stare into yours. his family and friends wait patiently as you think to yourself.

“I wish for love.”

he scoffs in response almost instantly. he couldn’t help it, to wish for love felt stupid, but Daniels hand clasping against yours makes your heart flutter and skin warm to his touch, “well your wish came true, because I’m here to show you just how much I love you.”

2022 - to love

pregnant.

it’s no wonder doing mundane activities were killing you, and getting up any time before 6am was a threat to your immune system. little did you know it didn’t matter when you woke up, you’d still be pregnant and with a heavy case of morning sickness.

and while 2022 is looking awful to different from the past two years of your relationship, Daniel was changing. you’d noticed how physically unfit he was for training, and it wasn’t because he lost his touch, he looked more sick than you did.

the smile that once reached his eyes and infected a dozen or more individuals, was fading. the light in his eyes barely shined anymore, and while he should be happy his girlfriend is pregnant, the glow on his face doesn’t reflect his words.

you’d talked with zak, asked him how Daniel had been doing and to monitor his health, but little did you know the same man you trusted was the reason for his depression.

“Danny,” you whisper slightly hoping to god he doesn’t answer, but he hardly sleeps anymore.

your touch sinks his body further into the mattress. you mold your body and growing belly against him, fingers drawing all sorts of relaxing shapes, “I love you,” you whisper trying to your best to hold in the sob desperately trying to escape, “but I hate how sad you are. I miss you, I miss us.”

your sudden words ache his heart. he hears your pain, it makes him lift his hand and clasp his hand on top of yours allowing your silent sob to increase in volume, “what’s happening to you, it’s not right.“

“I know,” he whispers back. his words hang in the room for a little longer before he turns to face you, his fingers quickly wipe your tears, “I’m going to get better. for you, for us, and for her. okay?”

“okay.”

—

“can you keep a secret?”

“depends,” lando responds turning on his heel, his adorable smile turning his lips upward, “what’s my reward?”

“a kiss on the cheek?”

he nods in approval, “kiss first, secret later.” he taps his cheek, watching you roll your eyes before you quickly press your lips to his skin and pull away.

“I’m pregnant.”

“old news, what else?” he shrugs it off.

“Daniels leaving.”

“what?” you watch lando’s shoulders fall as he collapses into the chair below him, “please tell me it’s because of the baby and not anything else?”

your hesitation earns a permanent frown on his lips, “I thought I could save him.” he lets out a deep sigh allowing you wrap him into your arms, “I think it’s what’s best.”

“I agree, but you’ll still have cool uncle rights.”

“yes! oh, that’s the best news ever! I have to tell max!”

Daniels foot steps echo throughout the hallway of the private room you were in with lando. not another soul is in the McLaren hospitality, as everyone had seemed to vanish once practice rounds were over, but you’d stayed waiting despite longing for a warm shower and Daniels hands against your belly. god, how much more love sick could you be? it was evident Daniel didn’t feel much of the same right now, and you tried your best to put on a big smile and positive attitude.

“there he is.” you move over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him downward so you can press a kiss to his lips.

“I have to stay a little later.” he mumbles before pressing another kiss to your lips, “why don’t you head back with lando?”

“but I want to stay.” you frown pulling away from his body. it gives you a chance to look him in the eyes, the dark circles are much more evident, the glimmer of hope and love have seemed to vanish his eyes replaced with sadness. why did this have to happen to him? it’s just not right, you think to yourself.

“will you at least eat dinner with me?”

he shakes his head, “I really have to get back to the car.” he pushes a strand of your hair behind your shoulder, “why don’t you order room service? it’s on me, get whatever you’re craving.”

“I’m craving you, but you’re making yourself unavailable—again, might I add.”

his eyes close for a brief moment. his fingers play with the hem of his bright orange shirt, you can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. it terrifies you what’s next. “y/n, they are terminating my contract. can you just go home with lando?”

the grit of his words are like nails on a chalkboard. you swear you could feel yourself becoming lightheaded you don’t even realize lando was the one to catch you from falling backward. terminate? they were done with him? you feel a sob take over your body, it takes ten minutes for lando to calm you down, as Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

the car ride to the hotel was silent. with lando taping away on his phone, and you staring out the window in a daze there was nothing that could pull you away. well, maybe there was.

danielricciardo: if I do ridiculous side burns would you still sleep with me?

a snort escapes your lips. he knows how to turn a bad day into a good one.

yourusername: depends. how ridiculous are they?

danielricciardo: so ridiculous you might wish I didn’t get you pregnant.

yourusername: now I would never wish on that. we love you Danny.

love. it’s a strange feeling that’s settling into his chest right now as he stares at zak brown, the man he’d been warned about years ago, but he never listened. now hearing it from you, he knew love conquered all of his fears and anxiety about leaving. because in the end, your love made him feel whole again.

to live, to learn, and to love.

[BONUS SCENE]

2023 - living, learning, and loving

“oh my, you’re so big now! what are they feeding you?” lando’s gasp earns a ripple of head turns. he’s rushing his way over to you and your new born daughter, mila.

“whatever it is, it’s clearly working on you too. what’s this you’ve got going on? is it a beard?” you carefully run your fingers over the hair on his chin making him pull away, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, “fine I’ll shave it.”

“take it from me, the minute I got home from Austin I wasn’t allowed in the bed until I shaved it all off.” Daniel rubs his fingers over the stubby hairs against his cheeks, “some women don’t like that down there—“

“Daniel!” you hiss, hands placed against his chest you give him a hard shove.

the roar of his laughter echoes throughout the paddock. it brings a flock of his friends and former colleagues together surrounding you both and your daughter, mila.

she was a happy blessing out of a horrible year. her arrival was earlier than expected, but seeing Daniels smile finally reach his eyes, it was like she knew he needed that.

“I can’t decide what’s cuter, her curls or her rolls. how do you sleep at night with such a difficult question?” Charles looks between you two and watches the devilish smirk lift upon Daniels lips, “actually don’t answer that, I see where your mind is taking you.”

“it’s good to have you back.” the Ferrari driver smiles. before he walks away he says one more thing to brighten your days, “and I mean that. it’s good to have the you we all love back.”

you lived, you learned, and you’re still loving.

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13

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familiarscars · 24 days ago

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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 19

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

California, August 24, 2020.

Twenty minutes until the band's final performance of the year, and you'd finally be on vacation.

The air circulated better in your lungs when you remembered that you’d finally get to rest after an intense and seemingly endless string of album promotions and tours. Maybe you could even travel to a new country or perhaps visit a distant beach where not a single human soul roamed.

But when you remembered this required a plane ride, you immediately gave up, deciding that staying home and not stepping foot outside until the return to the stage next year was the better choice. The idea of relaxing in a distant place felt as impossible as the notion of taking a real vacation. You needed to come to terms with your reality.

“Can we say this phase of the band has been a real success? We’ve seen you at more festivals and opening for bigger metal names, which should mean you're reaching a broader audience, right?” the interviewer asked, holding the microphone close to your face.

“That depends on what success means to you,” your voice came out sharp, maybe a little too pointed. “Being at a lot of festivals and opening for more shows than in our last phase doesn’t mean success to me. That audience definitely isn’t ours when we’re placed in spaces disproportionate to our style. They’re not here to see us and couldn’t care less about getting to know us.”

“Looking at it that way, you’re right, especially considering the last incident at a recent festival. That crowd wasn’t ready to embrace a different musical style, and you paid the price for that.”

Your head nodded slowly as she agreed with your point. At the last festival in Florida, which she referenced, you had to endure an overwhelming amount of criticism from the audience simply for replacing a major band they actually wanted to see.

Fair enough, situations like that happened frequently in the music world, but it seemed deliberate that Gerard kept pushing you into unpleasant, unsuitable situations just for the thrill of easy money and stuffing your schedules to keep his ridiculous scheme running.

He didn’t even bother to read contracts or check if the working conditions were remotely decent.

“But that’s the price you pay when the person managing the band and booking our gigs values money above all else,” you said with a tight smile, shrugging. “We can die on stage repeating the same formula for years, playing in tiny venues and festivals that go against what we believe in and even alienate us from our real audience, but that will never measure whether the band has truly succeeded. Because it was never about quantity.”

“Do you think social media reach could change that?”

“Maybe, but it’s not something we have control over. We could blow up on a social network tomorrow with a generic song that takes less than ten minutes to produce, but if we’re still tied to someone who cares less about us than we do about ourselves because we’re just a smokescreen to cover up label problems, the issues will remain the same.”

“Wow!” the interviewer gasped slightly, her eyes widening. You couldn’t deny she had been kind and professional since she insisted this interview should solely feature the band’s female voice—a rare occurrence for you. “It’s important to know that, as a key band member, you think this way. We go to the shows and listen to the music without knowing half of what goes on behind the scenes. That’s sad.”

“Our biggest responsibility is handling our own mess without letting it spill over to the audience. You deserve to enjoy the art we create especially for you, and we’ll take care of the rest—just that.” You smiled, blowing a kiss toward the camera. “See you next time!”

You skipped back to the dressing room, certain it wouldn’t be long before Gerard stormed through the door to choke you out over your statements in the interview. He knew full well you disagreed with his management style, and you made it more evident every day as you counted down the days to free yourself from the one thing that still bound you: the contract.

In your mind, the more you defied him and eroded his dignity in front of the media, the sooner he’d give up using you as his captive.

Huffing until your lips trembled, you stood before the mirror, retouching anything out of place in your makeup. Your fingers pressed the compact powder under your eyes and a bit over your nose. You didn’t usually warm up and found it unnecessary, but at most, you’d breathe deeply a few times, holding the air in before releasing it, eyes closed.

You had a good boyfriend who loved you, a happy home you’d always dreamed of sharing with him, talent, a career, fans who followed you, and real friends who cared about you. Yet there was still this growing hollowness in the pit of your stomach, whispering constantly that none of it was enough.

You didn’t deserve any of this.

The room was partially lit, with only the faint glow of a lamp in the corner casting shadows on the walls of the dressing room. You were making the final touches to your makeup, the muffled sound of the opening band echoing in the background. The usual pre-show nerves were almost comforting.

Suddenly, the door creaked as it opened. Without turning around, you sighed, keeping your tone nonchalant.

“Sorry, but I’m not seeing any fans right now.”

There was no immediate reply, just the sound of soft footsteps crossing the carpet.

“I said I’m not—” You stopped when a chill ran down your spine. The sensation was instant, an invisible weight pressing on your chest, making the air feel heavier.

“Is that how you treat family now, doll?” The raspy, familiar voice froze you to the core.

You turned slowly, as if your mind was trying to delay the inevitable. When your eyes finally landed on the figure emerging from the shadows, your throat went dry, and the lipstick you were holding slipped from your hand.

“You...” Your voice was trembling, barely more than a whisper.

Seth took another step forward, the shadows dancing across his face partially hidden by a cap. His smile was as cold as his words.

“Oh, yes, doll. It’s me. I missed you.”

You stood frozen, unable to move a muscle. Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears, and the air became harder to draw in. Your hands started to shake, buried memories struggling to resurface.

He stepped closer, his sarcastic tone dripping with menace.

“After everything we went through together, you acted like an ungrateful little bitch, handing me over to the cops with all those lies. Did you really think you could rat me out and then just go on tour with your band like we didn’t have unfinished business?”

“No…” You breathed as you tried to back away. “This place is full of security watching the band members, and if you take another step, I’ll make a scene.”

When he reached out to grab you, you stepped back, but your legs felt like lead.

“Then scream, doll! Scream!” He laughed.

You moved quickly, darting through the small gap he left to run toward the door. But with a single stride, Seth reached your torso and threw you to the floor, pinning you down as he straddled you. Your air was cut off, and before you could scream, he silenced you with a punch to the side of your face, making your head loll to the side.

“Listen here, doll,” he growled, grabbing your face with one hand and covering your mouth with the other, forcing you to look at him. “I really ought to kill you, but luckily for you, I got out of your little stunt. So, I’ll just punish you for being a stupid bitch!”

Your heart was pounding so fiercely it felt like it might burst from your chest. Sweat ran down your spine like a stream, and all you wanted was to scream until your organs trembled, but something held you back. A moment of desperation made you avert your gaze, your eyes widening, and in a desperate impulse, your teeth sank into the flesh of his hand covering your mouth, hard enough for the metallic taste to flood your palate.

He growled in pain, yanking his hand away abruptly. The momentary distraction was enough for you to wriggle free and stumble to your feet.

Your heart was still racing uncontrollably, and your eyes darted around frantically for an escape, anything to get you away from him. But he recovered quickly, his gaze darkened with fury, rage fueled by the pain.

“You think you’re stronger than me?” he sneered venomously, wiping the blood from his hand on his shirt. “You haven’t changed at all. Still the same weak, broken little girl.”

His words were like knives, cutting straight to your core. Your breathing was erratic, and your knees threatened to buckle at any moment. Seth opened his mouth to say more, but his words were cut off when a furious blur grabbed him by the collar, yanking him away from you.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m about to kill you for laying a hand on her.”

Seth laughed as he tried to break free, but Noah slammed him against the wall with enough force to make a dull thud echo through the room. That was all it took to unleash a flurry of punches that made Seth retaliate with one that struck Noah’s face, but Noah seemed fueled by pure rage. Within seconds, the two were exchanging fierce blows amidst growls, toppling chairs and scattering makeup and clothes across the floor.

Your stepfather seemed at a disadvantage as Noah blocked his arm to prevent him from striking. Through the haze clouding your vision, you could see all of Noah’s anger pouring out on that damned man, whose face became unrecognizable from the sheer amount of blood streaming down.

You stood still, hands trembling and eyes fixed on his face, as if frozen in time. Everything around you seemed like a blur. The sounds of the fight, the muffled screams, the thudding of fists meeting flesh—all of it felt distant.

Your whole body shook, a mix of fear and memory. It was as if you'd been transported back in time, the same sense of helplessness washing over you.

Finally, the sound of hurried footsteps broke into the dressing room—members of the crew rushing in to separate the two. Seth was forcibly dragged away, still trying to fight with a sneering expression, but Noah kept glaring at him with eyes full of hatred, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll see each other soon. Don’t forget, I’m a big fan of the band, doll,” Seth said as he was dragged down the hallway, while you tried to cover your ears.

Noah wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, turning his gaze back to you. His face softened instantly when he noticed your state.

“Hey,” he called, his voice quieter now as he knelt in front of you. His restless, gleaming eyes assessed the situation on your face and carefully passed over the bruise on your cheekbone. “Sorry for losing control like that, but when I walked in and saw he’d hurt you, I just…”

You didn’t want to hear more, cutting him off by throwing yourself into his lap, desperately seeking his embrace. Noah sighed and pulled you into his arms, cradling you gently. He rested his lips on the top of your head, pressing a lingering kiss there.

He was never violent, had never even raised his voice to you in all these years together. You knew that for something to have triggered his primal instincts like this, it meant he truly cared.

“Who was he?” he asked, running his thumb along the side of your arm.

“Seth.” You barely mustered the strength to respond, the name slipping out. “My mom’s boyfriend.”

“Why didn’t I know he existed?” As pointed as the question was, he sounded only curious. “And why the hell did he show up like that?”

“I thought I’d buried that part of my life when I left Richmond. I didn’t want to remember where I came from, much less what drove me to leave that house.”

“I don’t recall you ever mentioning your home, and now I understand why,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.

“To me, he died the day I turned him in to the police, just hours before we officially moved to Los Angeles.”

You had no idea he’d been out there beyond the voices in your head and the delusions that made you think you’d seen him somewhere. You had believed it was just your mind sabotaging you, but he had remained silent all these years, simply tracking your steps.

“He found out what I did and was trying to punish me for it. Sorry for never bringing this up before—I’ve always tried to forget that part of my life, and it took me longer than it should’ve to report what he did,” you said, your voice breaking as you bit your lip and clung to Noah tighter. “First, I had to learn on my own that I wasn’t the defective piece in the factory.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “You don’t have to go into it if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll never stop thinking you’re the bravest woman I know because of this.”

The subtle brush of his lips on the tip of your nose made you crack a brief smile. No matter what dirty lies your mind tried to plant to ruin the moment, they couldn’t steal the feeling of being truly safe without having to fight to survive alone.

“20 seconds until you’re onstage.” A deep voice interrupted sharply, drawing your attention to the door.

“We’re not performing tonight,” Noah declared. “She’s hurt, and she’s just been through a lot.”

“20 seconds until you’re onstage,” Gerard repeated, pounding on the door again. “Jolly and Ruffilo are already starting the intro, and I won’t tolerate delays when this counts as a direct breach of contract with the event’s producers!”

“Did you hear what I said?” Noah turned to him over his shoulder, his tone hardening. “Neither of us is in the right headspace to perform!”

Slowly, you pulled away from Noah’s embrace and got to your feet with a tired sigh. This might be the first time he’d have to deal with Gerard’s true nature so blatantly, but you were used to swallowing your problems and getting to work.

Gerard entered the room with slow steps and stopped in front of him, waiting until he also stood.

“I remember saying I didn’t care if you two were screwing around as long as it didn’t interfere with your work,” he said, stroking his chin. “But I feel like that agreement is being broken when you can’t even hide on stage that you were trying to kill each other in the dressing room.”

“But…” Noah tried to argue, but Gerard cut him off.

“I don’t care what you were doing!” He pointed a finger for emphasis. “But both of you are going to find a way to cover that up on your faces, and for every second you delay, I’m docking it from your pay at the end of the month.”

With those harsh words, he turned and left the room. The intro of the first song was already playing faintly in the distance, and you and Noah exchanged glances for a few seconds. It didn’t really matter what either of you wanted or whether the situation was fair.

You never believed much in justice anyway.

The adrenaline from the stage was still coursing through your veins as you walked backstage, an almost electric energy pulsing through every movement, and the vibration of the crowd still echoed in your ears, drowning out everything around you, including the shadow that approached almost imperceptibly.

"Good job today," the man said casually, with a friendly smile that could fool anyone. Before you could react, he slipped something small and discreet into the palm of your hand.

You froze for a second, but the euphoria of the moment seemed to justify the gesture. It wasn’t as if it were something new. Still, as you glanced at the small package, your throat went dry.

"Thanks," you murmured softly, trying not to draw attention.

Your steps quickened toward the dressing room, and the sound of the boys' voices grew more distant as you moved away. As soon as you entered the small space, you heard the door slam shut behind you, and, like a furious storm, Noah advanced, snatching what was in your hand.

He held the package at eye level, his gaze fixed on you as if trying to solve an impossible puzzle.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice as sharp as a blade.

You tried to respond, but the knot in your throat held you back.

"I asked you what the fuck this is!" he yelled, throwing the package onto the nearby table. The small object slid across the surface and stopped right in your line of sight.

"It’s..." you stammered, scratching the back of your neck and pulling at some strands of hair. "It’s nothing important."

"Nothing important?" he repeated, incredulous. "Are you kidding me?"

"Of course not."

"Is this why you’ve been acting weird?" he pressed.

You averted your gaze, unable to look at him, but he wasn’t going to let it go.

"You lied to me," he continued, anger spilling from every word. "You made me believe you were just nervous, that there was too much going on at once. You made me believe it was all about the music, about the show, about me... But it’s this?"

He pointed at the package as if it were something vile.

"When did we start hiding things from each other like we don’t live under the same roof? When did you become someone I don’t know, someone who has a life parallel to the one you show me every day?"

"Stop, Noah!" you shouted back, finally finding the strength to speak, clutching the sides of your head. "You’re doing this again, and I don’t need you managing my life like I’m your responsibility!"

He let out a bitter laugh, running his hands through his hair—a gesture you recognized as a sign of extreme frustration.

"You don’t get it, do you?" he said, his voice now lower but still charged with intensity. "I care about you! I care about everything we’ve built together, and now it feels like we’re not even on the same page, but you always said we were!"

He stopped, the words seeming to choke him.

"I’m not going to stand by and watch this happen."

You tried to respond, but the guilt and weight of emotions were overwhelming. Deep down, you knew he was right. But admitting it was something you weren’t ready to do.

The words came out like a desperate sob, broken and repetitive. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me."

You knew each syllable carried a torment that felt impossible to express, yet they spilled out between sobs. Your eyes met his, and it was like looking into a mirror of pain. Noah’s eyes were brimming with tears, his face flushed with a mix of anger and deep sadness you never wanted to see in him—especially because of you.

He stepped back, as if he needed distance to breathe, but you couldn’t let him go. Without thinking, you stepped forward and grabbed his hand. Your touch, though trembling, had the power to disarm him. You felt his shoulders gradually relax, his furrowed brows softening. Still, the hurt remained there, etched in every line of his face.

This was what you hated—hated so much. Having to show him the darkest parts of yourself, the ones you did everything to hide. Noah didn’t deserve this.

He was good, so good.

You not.

"You’re absolutely right, my love," you said in a weak voice, almost a whisper. "I was nervous; I thought it was the better choice… But this was never about you. Not when it’s by your side that my noisy mind finds a little silence."

As you spoke, your fingers sought his damp cheeks, carefully tracing the lines of his pain. He yielded, the rigidity in his expression giving way to exhausted weariness, and he rested his forehead against yours. There, in the small space between you, your breaths began to intertwine until they became one rhythm.

Noah closed his eyes as he felt the tip of your nose brush against his.

"I’ll never do this again," you promised, your voice choked. "I’ll never use it again. I’ll never lose myself like this, but I need you not to leave me alone when I only have you."

He remained silent for what felt like an eternity. When he finally spoke, it was with an almost inaudible whisper, yet it carried the weight of the world.

"If you’re feeling bad about something, if your past still hurts, if you feel like you don’t belong where you are now… then share it with me. Let it hurt me, but don’t do this to yourself." He paused, his voice breaking in the midst of his confession. "I love you so much, little storm, and I would never treat you this way."

Your heart clenched with a new pain, a guilt that seemed intent on suffocating you. You loved him more than anything, but was this what love did? It placed you in front of yourself, forcing you to face your flaws?

"I know. I know. I know." You repeated, the words falling like rain as you held his face in both hands. "I love you, my love, and I’ll never hurt you like this again."

He opened his eyes, now filled with a painful hope.

"Promise?"

That word clenched your throat tightly. You couldn’t lie to him anymore. Not after this.

"I promise," you replied, your voice low but firm.

And, for a moment, as your eyes remained locked on his, you almost believed you could keep that promise.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

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