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nanamiskentos · 2 months ago

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NERDS DO IT BETTER ☓. ── ( 呪術廻戦 )

⌗ turns out they're the best you've ever had, and you think you're gonna' have to come back for more!

ᯓ starring ─. jjk ensemble cast : nerd! gojo, nerd! geto, nerd! sukuna, nerd! nanami, nerd! toji, nerd! choso

𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader ) ─── ❛ cw ⌓. mdni. college au. risky, public séx. handjóbs. óverstím. hate séx. fíngeríng. fiíming (consénsual). édging. vírgin!kuna. óral (m). missiónary. soft séx. brééding kínk. créampíe. backshóts. óral (f). wc ⌓. 3.5k.

﹙ 五条悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ advanced mathematics, physics

"oh, fuck!" gojo's absolutely quivering, throwing back a head of tousled, snowy hair, "that's, ouh, that's way better than i ever coulda' even dreamed of." pale-pink lips snapping sharp around another moan as he shudders, "can ya' do it again?"

you're clicking your tongue, doing your very best to bite back a flushed smile yourself. knowing that you've got the smartest, honour roll student pliant beneath you, his thighs splayed out and bare — the skin spottled with patches of rosy pink, dusted with fine white hairs. he's still got that campus sweatshirt on, rumpled over the askew collar of the dress shirt underneath. where you're eager to run your hands, to slide your fingers up past the low trail of hair on gojo's groin.

it doesn't hurt that gojo's, like, ridiculously gorgeous. thick-rimmed glasses foggy over vibrant blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. and you can see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek as your hand keeps at a steady pace. pumping him over and over, until thick ropes of seed are coating your hand. it must be the nth climax of his by now, but it seems neither of you are that eager to call it a day.

you smile at how gojo squeezes his eyes shut, glasses skipping askew so you can fondly kiss his forehead. titling his glasses right back into place, all while he bites back a low, rumbled groan, "a-another?" it's a plea, almost hopeful for you to milk his poor, throbbing cock until there's not much else it can give.

"mhm, i don't know, satoru. it's kinda' risky, don'tcha think?" you're trying to keep your voice down, knowing that anyone could round the corner here. they could move past the stack of chairs littered behind the physics subsection of books and old papers to find gojo spread out so sluttily over this chair, his pants drifting past his ankles while you lean over behind the desk to jerk him off. workshop questions and calculations long discarded as the most intelligent man on campus chases some form of pent-up relief from you, his angel that's solely heaven sent.

gojo's the type of guy that's always moving, whether he's skimming and flipping through pages of glossy textbooks or speeding over the butterfly keys of his steel-grey mac, and right now?

he's still in motion, tapping trimmed nails in staccato beats against the plastic table. drumming his fingers over and over as he does his best to not let you see the crystalline tears of delicious overstimulation pooling at the corners of his eyes. shuddering as you pull back, letting his big cock snap back, smearing a thin line of translucent cum against his blue sweatshirt.

cursing because he knows he's gonna' have to peel that top off before his next class, before anyone can figure out exactly what that stain is, "fuck, we still got 15 minutes before that lecture, yeah? one more, please, baby, jus' one more."

﹙ 夏油傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ philosophy, sociology

"what did i say? eyes on the lenses, pretty girl." geto's determined and mean when he's like this, but then again, when is he not a cunt?

that bitchy nerd's always sniping at you, doing dumb shit like taking your seat in class and sucking up to the teacher — batting pretty, dark lashes at the tutor while throwing a nasty look your way when you get the answer right.

but as of this moment, there aren't any right answers in your head. not when geto's got you propped up in his broad lap. right in front of a blinking video camera, perched on a shaky tripod as he swirls his digits as deep as he can into your pretty, swollen pussy.

"s-sugu', feels so good," you moan, sinking your teeth into the plush flesh of your lower lip as geto's face softens for a split second before hardening once more. handsome features crinkling as he shakes his head of choppy, raven hair, "didn't ask if it felt good, geez. i asked for the answer to the question, or are we jus' having trouble following instructions as well?"

"hate ya' so, so much, still, i don' even remember the fuckin' question," you're sniffling, knowing that he's so deliciously knuckle deep within you right now. your clear, glossy arousal coating his fingers as he pumps the digits in and out of your heat with a satisfying squelch!

geto smiles, as though he wanted you to say that while he was rolling a fat thumb over your clitoral hood. berry lips pulling at the corners as he tuts, using the hand that was previously holding apart your thighs to slide a pristine paper over his bed, clicking his tongue before he intones, "tch', let me quiz you, again, 'cause we got that test tomorrow. though, 'm not sure it's much good. now, how would you explain structural functionalism?"

your mind's absolutely turning to incredible, pleasurable mush as you struggle to form coherent sentences. instead, staring at the blinking red light blearing out through the dark haze of geto's form room, and swallowing as he begins pulling at the sensitive ache of your clit, "it's, like, the premise of everything havin' a purpose. like, hahh, society being a well-oiled machine n' people are jus' cogs and — fuck! suguru, can't even focus like this."

your back is writhing against geto's toned chest, and you can feel the dark strands of hair that have escaped his hairtie tickling at your cheek, "i know, beautiful," he coos, almost as though he quite likes you, rather than the loathing that he claims, "now tell me, who's ideas does structural functionalism align with? answer quick, and i'll make ya' cum this time, promise!"

brain whirring on overtime to snap out a rushed breath, "emile durkheim!" your lips pouting as you heave in a candied breath of air, "that's right, isn't it? now you promised, so please! make me cum, sugu', fuck."

you can hear geto chuckle, "you didn't make me pinky promise, though?" and he's revelling in how you huff, and curse him out, "besides, i like watching you squirm all pretty for the camera. helps me remember my notes so much more. y'know that 'm gonna' go back and revise this later."

﹙ 両面宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ anthropology, history

"you're a virgin?" your mouth parting into a sweet gasp as charlotte tilbury leaves sticky strands of product stringing between your pretty lips. because, there's just no way...

sukuna's rolling his crimson eyes, and shoving his tattooed hands into the ragged pockets of his thick hoodie, "why don't we focus on the project again? y'know that the entire thing is due next week, and this is our last meet-up before we gotta' present?"

the burly, quiet man's clearly flushed — with his tanned cheeks painted awash in some watercolour, blushy hue. muttering something about insolent cheerleaders and how he's refusing to get a bad grade because of you. but you're never one to lose. you just cross your arms over your chest, and a little more firmly on purpose, just to watch sukuna gulp as his gaze drops right down to that shadow of cleavage, "hey, you're the one who asked if i was sleeping with the quarterback."

sukuna's just too easy, because for all his churlish, jerkish attitude, he's not immune at all to your easiest charms. like a pretty red lollipop, or a spritz of your favourite body mist, or when you hike the hem of your skirt up just a little bit higher to doodle faint hearts on your flesh. and now he's grunting, drawing his eyes away from your torso to gulp, training his eyes solely on the project rubric, "yeah. was jus' a question. i don't give a fuck."

"mhm, sure." snapping strawberry gum between your teeth, "because i'm not with him." you grin as sukuna stiffens, almost snapping the poor, thin frame of a cheap lead pencil between his thick fingers.

"no?" he sounds almost, almost sheepish. battered headphones clattering around his marked neck as he jerks, and you almost coo. for it's honestly quiet sweet at how interested he sounds. ironic, considering ryomen sukuna is one of the most surly men on campus. always with his nose buried in some medieval book, always some exemplary paper of his pinned to the student noticeboard about the heian era.

"no," you repeat, scooting just a little bit closer to his broad frame, "because 'm interested in someone else, ya' see. like you, 'kuna."

the pencil snaps, the wood finally giving out to the quick motion of sukuna's fingers clamping down on it. pieces scattering and littering the table as broken lead clutters, the remnants of a man who's just had his world rocked but doesn't want to admit it, "hah, funny," he's muttering, "yer' really interested in me?" all you had murmured was a tempting, alluring little phrase that would remain with sukuna forever, something like, "want me to prove it?"

and that's exactly how you ended up like this. eyes blown wide, little hearts dancing around your pupils as you took in the sheer size and girth of what sukuna was hiding in his faded jeans. lips parting to close over the weeping tip of his thick shaft, and grinning at how there's already sheer, salty drops leaking out.

"fuck, w-wait," sukuna's groaning, with his spiky head of two-toned hair thrown back against your desk chair, "it's sensitive." clacking his sharp teeth around a wanton moan when you tongue at the veins bulging on the sides of his cock, "already feels like 'm gonna –"

"cum?" you offer helpfully, flattening your tongue against him so he throbs, hot and heavy, into your mouth. releasing yourself from his cock with a loud pop! and you're sure glad that your sorority roommates aren't home, for you're not sure how to explain that you're dripping wet yourself, just from sucking off the most infamous, ill-reputed nerd on campus.

"yeah, yeah," sukuna rasps, a heady and low tone that escapes from his chest, "and that would be e-embarrassing, fuck, that's — that's a good spot." sighing as you trail teasing fingers over folded skin, right at the underside of the base of his cock.

"not that embarrassing, 'kuna," you shake your head, loosening the slick strand of saliva that was stringing away from your lips. replacing your mouth with an entirely different type of gloss, and one that you're growing increasingly fond of, "and besides, we got a lotta' time before my roommates come back. plenty of other things we can do, hah."

﹙ 七海建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ economics

"but i jus' think numbers are kind of beautiful, wouldn't you say? like they have their own satisfying figure and precision?"

you smack nanami's chest, leaving a small, cherry hue over your boyfriend's pectorals, "your girlfriend is literally under you, and you're talking about numbers being beautiful."

he gives you an apologetic smile, thick waves of golden hair dampened with the sweat of exertion that was to be expected when he was delivering the sweetest, most loving strokes to your very core. thick, bulging tip kissing your cervix as nanami huffs, "sorry, darling. nothing's more beautiful than my girl, and, heh, yer' figure is the one i love the most."

"that's better," you gasp, feeling him rummage through your swollen pussy. girthy shaft bulging past throbbing, dripping folds as he delivers hit after surefire hit against your g-spot. but then, suddenly, you're frowning, "don't you have class, like, right now, babe?"

nanami squeezes his eyes shut, amber lashes kissing peach-flushed skin. "yeah, had some tutorial," he groans, drawing his cock out of you almost entirely before he's snapping his hips back into you with such force that there's a resounding smack reverberating through his bedroom, "but heh, they don't really need me there. i already know all my shit."

"and you won't get in, i don't know, trouble?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, pushing aside the stack of stock market magazines littered near your head, so he can slam his hand down on the soft quilt. all so nanami can steady himself as he has only one purpose in mind, to make you cum. to make you see such stars of pleasure that you squirt all over his cock. and he can already picture your fucked-out form, hazy and littered with the marks of his loving. and drenched down below.

well, anatomically, it mustn't be possible but at the mere vision, nanami can feel himself harden even more. like his cock is responding to the hypnotising grip that you've got him in. hefty balls tightening further and he's rasping in your ear, "can i —, fuck, can i cum in ya', darling?" desperate and falling apart at the mere idea, at the way your eyes flutter shut in bliss, "only if yer' also wanting me to, i swear. but please –"

"yeah. in me, kento. baby, all yours."

that's all it really takes for thick, stringy wads of hot release to spurt out from nanami's weeping tip. cock releasing strands of gooey seed into your cunt in a way that makes your boyfriend press his forehead against yours, littering a thousand kisses against your fucked-out, smiling lips, "thank you, thank you, thank you, darling. i love you so much. can't even put it into words, but i love you —"

﹙ 伏黒甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ physical education, kinesiology

"what the fuck did you jus' call me, ma?" toji's got a blunt nail trailing down your spine, running over the curve of your ass, "a nerd?"

you're writhing, "yeah, yeah. i mean, that's what everyone says," and it takes every cell in your body to fight back the inevitable release that toji's bestowing upon you. for you're determined to delay this just a little longer, to feel toji's thick cock slam into you from behind over and over in a way that you never really expected from the grumpy sports major.

and it seems the idea amuses him, for you don't even need to turn around to imagine how his sharp, jade-green eyes must be narrowing at the knowledge of what everyone calls toji fushiguro behind his back. how toji's sharp, shark-like grin must be widening, sharpening knives to sink into your shoulder, "why? 'cause i don't do that stupid, attention-seeking sports shit like everyone else in my degree? 'cause i don't wanna' waste my time on the field or in the locker rooms?"

"t-toji, it's 'cause you always got your damn nose in a book. and i didn't even know you could —," you shriek, feeling his burly forearm come up in front of you, past your bouncing breasts to support your weight as he presses further into you, "i honestly didn't even know you could fuckin' read."

"suchhh a nasty attitude, ma," toji chuckles, and your ass pleasurably stings at the resounding smacks echoing through the (thankfully) empty gymnasium. your lace panties pulled to the sides as you're balanced over the bleachers right in the very corner where the lonesome toji fushiguro prefers to sit, where no one else can bother him.

but damn, if he's not getting off on the idea of taking you so prettily like this. don't get him wrong, toji loves this position. loves how nasty and filthy your pretty arch is when he's swabbing his cock against your pussy. but fuck, he also wishes you were flipped around for him. just so he could press a thumb to your lower lip, and watch your eyes go all silly and crossed for him. while he tacked the thick curl of dark hair around his groin to your sticky, throbbing clit. battered your pretty cunt with his inches until that feisty lil' attitude melted away into sugar and cream.

you moan, such a wanton sound, when toji's thick fingers are climbing up your throat. past your jaw to settle at your mouth. pushing past your lip so you can drool so beautifully for him as he does his level best to at least regretfully silence the sexy sounds falling out of your lips.

"careful, ma," toji shudders, feeling the tight heat of your cunt snatch his soul away, "wanna' keep the volume down so those rocks-for-brains football players don't hear what's going on here. unless, you want them to see how the nerd's practically plowing your brains out, hah."

the resulting clench of your cunt tells toji all that he needs to know, and he has to bite back the furious blush crawling over him, underneath his faded varsity jacket, "oh? that's how it is? well, okay then. hold on."

﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ lab medicine, psychology

you know better than to sass choso when he's like this, the night before the final semester exam. see, because the man's got your thighs splayed so prettily out for him. glistening, and dripping all over his bedspread. and to the side, he's got that damn anatomy textbook flipped open.

choso's frustrated, sighing and flicking the pads of his fingers against his tongue to thumb at the sticking pages. rolling his eyes when he isn't able to find the passage that he wants, as if that's your fault. but you don't miss the hungry gleam in the raven-haired man's eyes, the spiky knots atop his head coming loose as he delves right back into his favourite meal. his favourite study snack being your glossy cunt, for he could munch on the slick strands forever.

"bear with me, my love," choso's cooing, trailing a slender, pale finger up your sticky folds until he comes to rest at your clit. tapping the throbbing bud once, "jus' gotta' memorise this, and you're helping me so much."

he's pressing a chaste, quaint kiss to your pulsing clit. that dark mark stretched across his face twitching as he murmurs, "ah, think, choso! right, the clitoral glans has, hmm, 8000 nerve endings. and it leads up to..." choso's drawing slow, teasing circles on your clit and it makes you whine, bucking your hips, "patience, my love. i'll reward you extra special for helpin' me out like this. now, it leads up to the clitoral shaft — and did i tell ya' what the crura is?"

you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you rut against choso's handsome nose for some delicious friction, and he clearly seems eager to indulge you, though he's still lost in academic thought, "right. i guess, baby, you could say the crura are kinda' like the legs for the clitoris. and they extend allll along the pelvic bones."

choso's marvelling the glossy, sheer slick coating his fingers. licking a flat stripe right against your swollen, eager cunt, "and the glans, well, my extended answer needs to mention how they, uh, damn, baby. you're soaked." he's shaking his head again, "i keep getting distracted. the glans — they're the ones with the alpha-delta, and c-fibres, and that's what makes you feel so good. transmitting sensations y'see, i get extra marks for mentioning that."

you hazard a glance to the shining pages of the new textbook that choso's kept on his shelf all semester, "and the, uh, the pudendal reflex? you got a sticky note on that one, babe?"

choso smiles, slowly flicking your clitoral hood in up and down motions, each movement sending simmering pleasure through your groin, "a spinal reflex, m'love. helps with the involuntary muscle contractions, like when i do this —," flatting the pad of his thumb against your clit to run tighter circles against the aching nub, watching as your hips jolt up further against his face. coating the lower half of his features in translucent arousal.

"now, my favourite part," choso says, grinning as he turns his attentions elsewhere, to your dripping entrance pooling such a mess over his sheets. and your boyfriend's tugging at his grey sweatpants, "the grafenberg spot. i don't think my fingers will be enough to stimulate it properly."

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nessa007 · 1 year ago

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"I just loved all three of them. The casts, these large ensemble casts. Just the fact that they would consider adding me to the ensemble [for The Fall of The House of Usher] was- I was flattered. I was honoured. It was something that was predestined. If they wanted me, I should do it." Mark Hamill interviewed [before the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes] for The Fall of The House of Usher

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mashtatosworld · 2 months ago

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HII HII can u please do a gd x world-famed kpop idol?? like blackpink-famous iykwim!! and maybe reader being a "junior" in the industry? (eg. them coming from 3rd gen era like bp or basically js young) they met for the very first time at an event, and reader being his junior went excited "omg g dragon?? the G DRAGON???" basically.

idk where to go after that point but perhapss (an idea, take it with a grain of salt lolol) gd was actually lowkey a fan of her instead? like reader was a breathe of fresh air, very talented, on the rise in the industry (did a hollywood thing) or something !!! i hope this part isnt too OOC but UH basically do your magic author!! im going to love anything you write either wayyy xxxxx🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

only girl

summary: in which you're both pretty in pink

You had to physically stop yourself from bouncing on the couch.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and faint cigarette smoke, a combination that somehow smelled exactly like you imagined he would.

Even after two weeks of your evenings spent here, sitting in G-Dragon’s studio still felt like a fever dream.

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, trying to keep your excitement contained as Jiyong sat across from you, casually scrolling through his laptop as if this wasn’t the biggest moment of your career.

“This is the track,” he finally said, pressing play.

A deep bassline rumbled through the speakers, followed by a hypnotic melody. The beat was dark and sultry, unmistakably his sound, but then - your voice.

Your breath hitched.

He had already layered your demo vocals onto the song.

You glanced at him in disbelief, but Jiyong was watching you intently, one hand resting lazily against his lips.

“You like it?”

“Are you serious?” Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves. “This is - this is insane. It’s so good.”

He smirked, pleased.

“I'm glad you agreed to work with me. I’ve been a fan of yours for a while,” he admitted casually, as if he hadn’t just shattered your entire perception of reality.

Your brain short-circuited.

“I- wait, really?”

Jiyong chuckled at your reaction. “You have this energy- ” he gestured vaguely, “- that the industry needs. It's addictive. This is your first solo project, right?”

You nodded, still processing the fact that he admitted to liking your music. You were a part of a girl group that were on the rise to success with a couple of hit songs.

The girls were currently on hiatus as they worked on their individual careers and this was the first time you'd worked on something without them. It was surreal that he chose you to feature on his comeback album after his years away from the spotlight.

“Well,” he leaned forward, eyes glinting, “let’s hope this is just the beginning.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 Six months later, 2024 MAMA Awards:

You were trying very hard to keep a straight face.

Which was difficult, considering G-Dragon was standing directly in front of you, smiling that slow, knowing smile like he knew a secret no one else in the room did.

Because he did.

Your bandmates, however, were completely oblivious, practically vibrating as they struggled to remain composed. You were nearly hit in the face with a light stick.

“Holy shit, it’s actually him,” one of them whispered.

Your leader was the first to recover. “Ah! Sunbaenim! It’s an honour to meet you!”

Jiyong chuckled, bowing respectfully. “I’ve been meaning to say hello.”

As he rose, his eyes flickered to yours, just for a second.

No one else noticed, but you did.

That subtle flicker of amusement, that unspoken acknowledgment.

You had seen each other just last night.

And yet, here you were, pretending this was your first interaction.

“I’m a huge fan,” your youngest member gushed. “Like, actually. Huge.”

Jiyong smirked. “Oh?”

Your bandmate nodded rapidly. “We were literally just talking about your performance.”

Which was true.

Jiyong had just stepped off the stage after his first live performance in years, wearing a custom pink ensemble that had the entire room of idols buzzing.

And coincidentally…

You were wearing pink too.

Your stylist had handed you this dress earlier today, saying it would be “perfect for the show.” But you knew better.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

Jiyong planned this.

It was a silent, unspoken statement - one only the two of you understood.

Your bandmates, still too distracted by his presence, completely missed the way his fingers briefly grazed yours when he moved past you.

A touch so fleeting it almost didn’t happen.

Almost.

And then, just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

Your bandmate immediately turned to you, shaking your arm.

“Hello?! You love G-Dragon. Why aren't you screaming right now?!”

You blinked innocently.

“Oh, trust me,” you said, lips curling into a secretive smile.

“I was dying on the inside.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Your back hit the hotel suite’s wall with a soft thud, Jiyong’s mouth already on yours before the door had even clicked shut.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the silky fabric of your dress - the pink dress - bunching it slightly as he pulled you closer.

“You looked so good tonight,” he murmured against your lips, voice husky.

You smiled into the kiss, fingers tangling in his pink hair.

“You planned it.”

Jiyong pulled back slightly, cocking a brow. “Planned what?”

You scoffed. “The outfits. You knew I’d match you.”

He grinned, shameless. “Maybe.”

You swatted his arm, but he caught your wrist, pressing a slow kiss to your palm before lacing his fingers with yours.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he mused, smirking. “Trying so hard to act normal.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle either,” you shot back. “The lingering looks? The hand touch? Jiyong, come on.”

He hummed in amusement, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ve been careful for six months,” he murmured, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist. “You really think people are starting to notice?”

“Not yet,” you admitted. “But if you keep showing up to award shows looking like my soulmate, they might.”

Jiyong chuckled.

Then, softly - softer than you’d ever heard him - he murmured,

“Would that be so bad, Jagiya?”

Your breath caught.

This wasn’t just a secret fling anymore.

It was something else entirely.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

double dropping in one day? oops. im becoming consumed by tumblr 🤭

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad

#gdragon #kpop #bigbang #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #mashtatosworld #request

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toriaaniin · 2 months ago

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Jejiikn (be lucky)

This is a post that celebrates our Screen Actors' Guild 2025 award nominees, the cast of Bridgerton (Ensemble in a Drama Series) and - of course - Nicola Coughlan (Female Actor in a Drama Series). Win or not, it's going to be an exciting night for everyone!

In publications circulating yesterday, we learned that 21 of the Bridgerton cast had RSVPd for SAG. Here are the confirmed attendees that we know of for sure:

✨Luke Newton (Colin Bridgerton)✨ Adjoa Andoh (Lady Agatha Danbury) Hannah Dodd (Francesca Bridgerton Stirling, Countess of Kilmartin) Victor Alli (John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin) Daniel Francis (Lord Marcus Anderson) Martins Imhangbe (Will Mondrich) Joe Barnes (Lord Wilding) Joanna Bobin (Lady Cowper) Rosa Hesmondhalgh (Rae, Penelope's Lady's Maid & later, her Housekeeper) Genevieve Chenneour (Clara Livingston) Anna Wilson-Jones (Lady Livingston) Banita Sandhu (Miss Malhotra) Vineeta Rishi (Lady Malhotra)

I suspect that we can add Shonda Rhimes and Jess Brownell to the RSVP list. Who knows... possibly also Tom Verica as #1 director along with key designers (speculating here) Erika Okvist (wig) and John Glaser (costumes). While (obvs) not part of the cast, there represent just some crew who were integral creators of the characters and story our cast brought to life.

The one person that we fans haven't received confirmation from? Nicola Coughlan. Based on recent social media activity, her stylist Aimee Croysdill and her primary make-up artist Neil Young seem to be in London for Fashion Week. Nicola's hair stylist Halley Brisker's last post was three days ago, showcasing his BAFTA work. That time gap in posting could suggest that he's in LA today. A possible clue?!

Here's what I know for sure... a nomination for this SAG award is an acknowledgement from peers in the industry that Nicola PERFORMED in season 3 Bridgerton! That as an actor, her skill, talent, intuition, creativity, language and communication, physicality - all of it - were equal to the best in the industry this year. What an honour! How could Nicola pass up this amazing opportunity?! Today I shifted my thinking from "if she can, she'll attend" to an emphatic She'll be there ❤

Jejiikn (be lucky in Ojibwa) our Bridgerton cast! We love you Nicola!!

Aaniin (I see your light) Xxx

#nicola coughlan #bridgerton s3

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audreyscribes · 1 year ago

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

💀 HADES: God of the Dead and Riches 💎

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You’re not claimed in a way like the others. Instead you come across a pale faced boy with black hair, dark bags under his eyes, and a leather jacket. The ensemble he wore screamed something to you and he introduced himself to you as Nico, child of Hades. And you’re one of his half-siblings.

Whether you’re like him, a child of Hades displaced out of time before the Oath was made after WW2, or a child born after the oath was rescinded, Nico has been finding any Hades’ demigods he could find. If you didn’t know better, you would think it was his life mission.

When you arrive at Camp, whether Camp Half Blood or Camp Jupiter, people already know who your godly parent or blood is when Nico is with you, but the claim over your head is just icing on the cake. It is the sign of the cusp of fall and winter together, the silence that presides over it.

People give you a wide berth of respect, awe and fear. Not surprising given how powerful Hades is.

Regardless, Nico sticks by your side and helps guide you. He teaches you how to handle the dead and the more peskier ghosts, but ultimately, he doesn’t let you feel alone. You tell your story to him and he tells his.

You’re also introduced to Hazel who seems the complete opposite of Nico but you realise that while children of Hades both stick together but are very independent. Solitary but not isolated.

While it may be bothersome and sometimes unsettling seeing ghosts and spirits, there are perks; you can reanimate and see dead and loved animals. You always tell the doggos they are good boys. That or the hellhounds.

“Hello Darkness, my old friend”- ‘The Sound of Silence’ by Simon and Gafunkel.

Regardless if you’re Greek or Roman, when people diss and don’t believe that the planetary Pluto is not a planet, you will get bad and they will know to never diss Pluto.

Dried flowers, fungi, antiques, faded memories, abandoned buildings. Once filled with life and encompassed with what could be death. Many do not appreciate them but they open themselves to you, and you and your siblings remember them. You carry old, past clothes on your backs, you gently touch the dried petals of flowers with their faint smell still cling to you. You see the hands that touched the antiques, touches of human life. You see the abandoned buildings and know that they were built and housed life in them with their shelter.

While you may be part of Death’s domain, you greatly cherish life; the people in your life and that help shape you. When you love someone, you love them to a beyond that transcends death.

You know about shadow traveling as Nico helped you go through it. At the minimum, you can fold yourself into the shadows and be unseen like Hades, but at the most, you can travel to any place where shadows preside over. You find its easier to travel to places wherever Hades’ domain presides over; you can travel more easily to places of death (i.e. cemetery, battlezones, altars) and riches (i.e. mines, the world trade centre, places of great bounty, banks). A rare power of a child of Hades may call things forth from the shadows, whether its things you place into the shadows or using the shadows to your will. You can grab an objects’ shadow to your advantage or use your hands to create shadow shapes to ‘life’. It is rumoured that once, a child of Hades that possessed that skill was able to freeze a person with their shadow pinned by them, and was able to kill them by simply cutting off a person’s shadow.

Like Hades, you may seem aloof and stern in matters, but on the other hand, this can be seen as fair and honourable.

When the children of Hades gather in one place, you all give off an Addams' family vibe. The aesthetics, the attitude toward things. Hades is Gomez and Persephone is Morticia, you can guess where it goes from there.

You looked at Nico, who introduced himself as your half-brother. You tried to find the similarities you two shared and while it isn’t entirely physical, there is an air around him that draws you in. A solace if you will. It’s been more than 70 years since your original time and now here you are, in the 21st century. You thought you had died and now you were here, breathing. You could feel the anticipation turning into dread when you would eventually realize the math of your birth era and now.

It was a stark change from your time, yet in some sort of attempt to grasp your sanity, you started to find similarities, things that seemed to be the same from your time and this time. It calmed you down but also at the same time, you were a bit overwhelmed where your half brother had taken you.

McDonalds, he said. You looked at the meal he had bought and inspected it. It was different yet strangely good? The soda-pop however, was entirely bizarre but still delicious (sickeningly sweet you thought).

You both ate your meal as Nico gave you a rundown of the situation. The existential weight of being children of Hades and Pluto was, especially after the creation of the Big Three Oath after the world war, and how it was absolved not too long ago in this time by a son of Poseidon. Then came the eventual appearances of deceased children of Hades and Pluto, which you found out were either killed in the wars, or were deliberately hunted down by Zeus and Poseidon; much like Nico and his sister Bianca.

Nico tried to give you a rundown of what times are like now and their delicate situation, but even then, Nico wasn’t too knowledgeable given everything.

Silence fell between the two of you, as you tried to process literally everything. You tried to speak but the knot in your stomach and the weight in your throat was getting heavier. It was becoming awkward and you looked at Nico, realising he too was out of his depth. You found some amusement that he really must be your brother if the two of you were both socially inept.

You saw Nico open the two red box with the golden arches, before he took out the two toys. You looked at them, wondering really how the meals costed. Toys weren’t very cheap back in the day, and while you had a feeling manufacturing must’ve improved, to have a toy come with a meal must be costly…but you were sure of how much Nico paid as you watched him to get a handle on today’s currency.

“So uh….which of the kids meals toys do you want?” he stammered.

You stared at him with wider eyes as you saw him slowly shift in his seat in awkwardness. Everything came to a head as the hilarity of the situation dawned upon you. You started laughing as Nico looked at you like you had grown a second head.

“I’ll take this one” you chuckled, taking the toy before wiping away the tears, “Thank you Nico.”

“I mean…I eat here pretty frequently-”

“I mean finding us” you said, as Nico blinked at you owlishly. You placed a hand on top of his in a reassuring gesture. “You went through a lot and you’re just as young as us, yet here you are, finding the rest of us who may be wandering limbo and offering us toys.”

“Well…it’s not fair” he tried to play off.

“None of it is fair,” you noted, “But this is.”

Nico stared at you before nodding. “We have to go to Camp to get you settled in,” he started.

You hummed as you helped clean up, “Perhaps yeah…then where next?”

“What?”

You smirked at Nico, ��If you want to go alone, you can but if you’re going to find the rest of us, count me in.”

“Are you sure? There’s a lot to digest.”

“Probably, but we’re demigods, I doubt things are going to be normal for a long time.”

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taylorswiftstyle · 10 months ago

Text

The Eras Tour | The Tortured Poets Department section

Paula Rowan 'Aida Glove' - $213.00

Many may have noticed a recent accessory addition to the Tortured Poets costuming on the Eras Tour: a sleek pair of triple dart leather gloves.

The addition comes as a functional fix to combat chilly temperatures on this particular stretch of dates in the United Kingdom. For backstory, the gloves were introduced after Taylor's first show in Edinburgh, Scotland. During the acoustic section, a portion that immediately follows the Tortured Poets set, Taylor experienced a hand cramp when trying to play guitar. That night, winds and cold weather likely made playing her instrument so deep into the three hour show a little challenging (to say the least).

It's an added delight to note this credit ahead of Taylor's dates in Dublin, Ireland because Paula Rowan happens to be an Irish designer. Rowan's work has not only been featured in many magazine spreads (including Vogue and Wall Street Journal) but her gloves have also been worn on stage before - most prominently for Lady Gaga's Chromatica Ball.

Of Taylor wearing her gloves, Rowan told Image magazine, “Taylor Swift is known for her strength and confidence as well as her ability to constantly transform and evolve. For all of those reasons, I am delighted that she chose my gloves to wear."

She added, "[Taylor's] style has evolved over her career and she uses both her lyrics and her outfits to communicate and to craft a story so I am honoured to be a part of that narrative.” How very TAYLOR SWIFT STYLE: FASHION THROUGH THE ERAS of her! I couldn't agree more.

Taylor also has a sparkly black pair to coordinate with her darker Vivienne Westwood ensembles. While they were definitely brought in as a primarily functional role, I think the gloves add so much to Taylor’s ensemble and also tie in to the Victorian fashion from the “Fortnight” video. Don’t you think?

Photo by Gareth Cattermole/TAS24 via Getty Images

#taylor swift #tour #accessory #paula rowan #eras tour

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pitinthelanepages · 2 years ago

Text

Scouts Honour

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: having to deal with drunk boyfriend oscar as the not so girly girlfriend who was in the middle of trying on a dress

genre: fluff

The sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow that illuminated the room in a gentle radiance. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your modest yet cosy apartment, a hint of uncertainty tugging at you as you held a delicate dress in your hands.

Your wardrobe predominantly consisted of hoodies, loose-fitting trousers, and comfortable sneakers. But today was different. Today, you had dared to venture into uncharted territory; an elegant dress you had impulsively bought. Its fabric, a silky cascade of midnight blue, shimmered with a touch of moonlit enchantment. You couldn't resist imagining yourself stepping into a world of elegance and grace.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, you gingerly slipped into the dress, its smooth texture gliding against your skin like a whisper. You studied your reflection, the dress clinging to your figure, hugging curves you often concealed. The woman in the mirror looked foreign, yet undeniably radiant, your tousled hair adding a touch of untamed beauty to the overall ensemble.

Just as you were beginning to embrace this unfamiliar sight, your phone rang, jolting you from your reverie. You glanced at the screen, recognizing the caller ID: a group of friends who frequented the same club as your boyfriend, Oscar Piastri. Curiosity mingled with concern as you answered the call, their voices pouring through the receiver.

"Hey. It's us," one of the friends chimed, their words accompanied by a mix of laughter and urgency. "Oscar's had a bit too much to drink, and we need you to come pick him up. Can you make it?"

Your heart skipped a beat as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you; worry for Oscar's well-being, a sense of responsibility, and the need to be there for him. Without hesitation, you replied, your voice steady despite the slight tremor beneath the surface.

"Of course, I'll be there. Give me a few minutes, and I'll head over."

As you hung up the phone, your mind raced. You had no time to change out of the dress, to revert to your usual attire that would blend seamlessly with your usual identity. But there was no turning back now. You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to embrace this unexpected turn of events.

With newfound determination, you slipped on a pair of simple yet elegant heels, their presence a stark contrast to your typical footwear choices. You grabbed your keys, pausing for a brief moment to study your reflection once more. Your pulse quickened as you admired the reflection of the woman standing before you; someone both familiar and unknown, bridging the gap between your usual spirit and the allure of femininity.

As you arrived at the club, the rhythmic pulse of music reverberated through the air, sending tremors of anticipation cascading down your spine. You made your way through the crowd, navigating the sea of bodies, each step echoing the beat of your heart. And then, there he was.

Your eyes met, and an undeniable spark danced between you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Oscar's surprise and shyness in his gaze. He looked at you with a newfound appreciation, as if seeing you in a whole new light. You couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

Approaching Oscar and his friends, your voice rang out, laced with a playful yet confident tone. "Hey there, troublemaker. Ready to go home?"

Oscar's friends exchanged amused glances, nudging him gently as they handed him over to you. His shyness grew apparent as he tried to hide behind them, a hint of bashfulness colouring his features. You couldn't help, but find him utterly endearing.

Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm, a gentle reassurance amidst the crowd. "It's me, Oscar. Your girlfriend. I'm here to take care of you."

In that moment, Oscar's eyes lit up, and a warmth enveloped him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, refusing to let go. His grip conveyed a mixture of vulnerability and adoration, a silent gratitude for your presence.

As you wrapped your arm around Oscar's waist, you could feel the weight of his head resting against your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck.

Oscar's voice slurred as he mumbled, "You're so pretty. I've never seen you in a dress before."

You chuckled softly, your voice tinged with affection. "Well, surprises are good, aren't they? Thought I'd switch things up tonight."

Oscar's fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch igniting a cascade of sensations within you. "You look amazing, babe. Can't take my eyes off you."

Your cheeks flushed as you replied, "You're just saying that because you've had a few drinks."

"Nah, it's true," Oscar insisted, his voice filled with earnestness. "You're like a beautiful dream come true."

With each giggle that escaped your lips, a delicate melody of joy filled the air. The sound was contagious, eliciting smiles from bystanders and lightening the heavy atmosphere. You couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of Oscar, his shy yet adoring gaze fixed upon you.

You whispered playfully, "What's gotten into you, Oscar? I've never seen you so shy."

He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with embarrassment. "Guess you just caught me off guard, seeing you all dolled up like this. Didn't know my tomboyish girlfriend could look so stunning."

You emerged from the club's entrance into the cool night air. The touch of Oscar's fingers against your back, as if seeking solace in your presence, resonated deeply within you.

Oscar's voice carried a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for being here for me. I feel safe with you."

Your grip tightened, your voice filled with warmth. "Always, Oscar. That's what partners do. We take care of each other."

As you finally reached the car, you gently guided Oscar into the passenger seat, his clinginess not relenting. You settled in behind the wheel, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture before starting the engine. The touch of your fingers interlaced on the gear shift filled the car with warmth.

Oscar's voice was soft, almost childlike. "Don't let go of me. I don't want this night to end."

You smiled, your voice filled with reassurance. "I won't, Oscar. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as you drove towards Oscar's apartment, the quiet hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His head leaned against the window, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. It was evident that the alcohol had taken its toll on him, and your heart swelled with a mix of tenderness and concern.

Once you arrived at his apartment building, you helped Oscar out of the car, his unsteady steps mirroring the vulnerability he exhibited. You both slowly made your way to his apartment, you supporting him every step of the way, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst the haze of intoxication.

Finally inside, you guided Oscar towards his bedroom, your movements unhurried and filled with a sense of care. You eased him down onto the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side. His gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes reflecting a deep admiration that made your heart flutter.

Bashfully, you averted your eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Oscar, you should really get some rest. I'll help you get ready for bed."

Oscar's grip tightened around your wrist, his gaze still intense. "Don't leave. Stay with me."

Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel your pulse quicken at his words. You swallowed nervously, voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't stay the whole night. But I'll make sure you're comfortable before I go."

Oscar reluctantly released his hold on your wrist as you crouched down to untie his shoes. You carefully slipped them off, placing them neatly beside the bed. Then, you stood up, your eyes meeting Oscar's once more.

"You should take off your shirt too, Oscar," you suggested softly. "You'll sleep more comfortably without it."

Oscar's gaze never wavered as he nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Okay, but only if you stay with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, a mixture of shyness and affection colouring your expression. "Fine, but no staring this time."

With a mischievous grin, Oscar lied down on the bed, watching intently as you pulled the duvet over him, ensuring he was snug and warm. You lingered for a moment, your hand brushing gently against his cheek, your touch tender and reassuring.

Just as you were about to turn off the bedside lamp, Oscar's hand shot out, clasping around your wrist. His gaze held a silent plea, an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Your voice caught in your throat, your eyes widening slightly.

"Oscar, I really have to go now," you stammered, your shyness evident in your tone. "I can't sleep in this dress."

A mischievous twinkle flickered in Oscar's eyes as he chuckled softly. "Well, you can borrow one of my shirts. It'll be oversized for you anyway, and you'll be more comfortable."

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating his offer. The thought of wearing one of Oscar's shirts felt strangely intimate, like borrowing a piece of his world. But as your gaze met his, the genuine affection in his eyes, you made up your mind.

"Alright," you finally replied, your voice filled with a mix of shyness and trust. "But you have to close your eyes. No peeking."

Oscar grinned mischievously, closing his eyes obediently. You turned towards his wardrobe, searching for a shirt that would fit your frame. You found a white shirt, soft and well-worn, with the faint scent of Oscar's cologne lingering on the fabric.

As you slipped off your dress and replaced it with his shirt, you couldn't help but feel a surge of vulnerability. The shirt engulfed you, the sleeves extending past your fingertips, the hem falling to your mid-thigh. It was an intimate gesture, an exchange of comfort and trust between them.

With a quick glance at Oscar, your cheeks reddened as you mumbled, "I'm changing here, but you better keep your eyes closed."

Oscar's lips curled into a playful grin as he responded, "Scouts honour. Not peeking."

Once you were dressed, you turned off the bedside lamp, casting the room into a soft, dim glow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you returned to the bed, slipping beneath the covers. You settled beside Oscar, your bodies inches apart.

As you closed your eyes, ready to drift into sleep, a gentle whisper escaped your lips. "Goodnight, Oscar."

His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he replied softly, "Goodnight, babe. Thank you for taking care of me."

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 writing #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic

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