#i knew both of the people interviewing me which was nice and knew a lot about the school

[srldesigns6277]

.

[fungateshortcakes]

Pornstar!Logan NSFW

This work is inspired by @bpmiranda and their own pornstar!Logan smut, which you can find here. Please go and check it out, it's so yummy and i hope I am doing this idea justice.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Up until now, filming a porn video was only something you joked about. But after your job failed you, this simple 'joke' brought you to a whole new carreer path that you would love to explore further, especially if your co-worker was this handsome man that ruined your pussy for everyone else.

Wordcount: 2.3k -ish

Warnings/tags: pornstar!Logan, pornstar!reader, porn with plot, first porn recording, filmed sex, best friends dad porn, squirting, unprotected penis in vagina sex, pussy pronouns, implied blowjob, basically sex with a stranger, dirty talk, doggy style, Logan is older than reader, cumming on pussy, perverted director, mention of threesome (F/F/M), english isn't my first languange (lmk if i missed something!)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

It had always been a joke. All of this - you just joked about it. But now as you stood in front of this building, the filming location, that's when you truly knew that it was in fact not a joke anymore.

You were about to cast in your first professional porn video.

For years you had been telling your friends, if your degree didn't work out, you'd start selling nsfw art. If your job applications would keep getting rejected, you would become a stripper. It was always something you and your friends could laugh about greatly, but it was never really taken serious in the end. That was about to change.

Throughout the last months, you had taken this career path more and more into your field of interest. Your hated your job, the salary, the people there and your boss. You needed a quick change. So you read about becoming a porn actress, watched interviews with stars of this industry, stating how they got into it, what they had to do, how they coped with everything at the start and much more. You felt ready, but you also didn't really, not when you stood in front of this building and knew that in just an hour, you would be having a stranger pounding his cock into your pussy while everyone around watched.

You took a deep breath as you entered and upon stating your name at the reception desk, you were brought to the second floor where you were greeted by the director.

"Ah, there you are! You're (Y/N), right?" he said and shook your hand with a firm grip. He was the manager of all of this. He had been in this industry for years and sounded very nice from the very start. You felt comfortable as you stood in front of him. You nodded your head. "Yeah, that's me. I hope I am not too late?" you asked nervously, biting your lip. You really didn't need to leave a bad expression right on the first day.

He laughed and shook his head "No, don't worry. You're just in time to meet the guy you're gonna work with today. You're gonna like him." he said and winked at you. You had already heard a bit about the man that would, to put it as is, fuck you today. They praised him highly, told you that you should be happy to have the opportunity with him because he gets so many requests from porn actresses every day.

Richie shoved you through a crowd of working people to a cozy break corner for the actors. There he stood. And wow. He already wore his outfit for the upcoming video. It was a plain black shirt, a thick belt and rugged jeans, but damn. He looked good.

Upon seeing you, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, hands in his pockets. "That's Mr. Howlett. Your lover for today" Richie chuckled as he introduced you to him.

"Call me Logan, sweets. Nice to meet you, heard a lot about ya" Logan said and his voice alone made your pussy throb. You both shook hands and you told him your name as well. It would be a lie if you said you weren't anxious. Your heart was beating out of your throat. You were intimidated by your work partners looks and the fact that he was a lot more experienced in this field than you. He looked very charming and handsome, picture perfect like some famous hollywood actor. And you were just, well, you. You felt like you couldn't compete with that in the slightest.

The time you had to speak to him, get to know him at least a little bit before his cock was in your mouth, was limited, because you were pulled to different stations by different people left and right, getting you into costume, fixing your make-up and hair, even checking if you had shaved down there properly. It was all so much at once, but Logan was always watching over you, weirdly enough, reassuring you. Truth be told, he saw himself when he looked at you. He was pretty confident by nature, but when he first started out in this business, he was overwhelmed and unsure at first as well. So he felt deep sympathy with you, even if you didn't know that.

Now you stood at the set with your two co-stars, Logan and some other woman who you didn't know the name of because she was so minor to the scene. She was only there to play your best friend from college. Your best friend with a smoking hot single father.

Your nerves were killing you as you stood in the pre-build bedroom with your co-star. You took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. You knew the script, you knew the movements and looks, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong. Right? "Okay, cameras, lights, action!" Richie yelled over the set. Now there was no going back.

You flopped down on your friends bed with a sigh. "This assigment is killing me. We've been working on it for days now and we aren't getting anywhere" you scoffed. Your on screen friend agreed with you, voicing her anger towards the professor as well.

You started acting like you were starting to unpack your bag when you heard a car engine. Your co-star groaned. "Perfect, now my dad's here. He normally works longer than that" she said. You had never met her dad, he was always at work when you were over. "Lindsay, I'm home!" Logan called before he stepped into the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw you. The camera zoomed in on your slightly shocked face, taking in your agape mouth and how your eyes clouded over. You crossed your leg over the other as warmth spread through your core.

Logan smirked at you, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you are the girl my daughter has been doing that assigment with, I assume? Nice to meet you, I'm her old man." he spoke in his deep voice, extending a warm, strong hand out for you to shake, a knowing look being shared between you as he eyed you up and down, pratically undressing you with his gaze only.

The director yelled cut. You let out a nervous sigh. This worked out way better than you had imagined, but that was just the easy part of this whole thing.

Though, the second Logan pushed the tip of his cock into your sopping pussy with a relieved smile on his lips that wasn't part of the script, you couldn't care less about your insecurities or worries. The words you were supposed to say just came naturally with the way he fucked you open. "Such a greedy little cunt, she is practically sucking me in" he groaned, one hand pushing your head into the pillows of his daughters bed.

"You really needed this, huh? Needed a big fucking cock to pound your pussy. The boys in college just don't cut it, am I right?" He groaned, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around his throbbing shaft. How could a cock feel this good? Logan could ask you the same thing - how could a fucking pussy be this tight and warm and just sopping wet?

Logan watched your face being squished against the pillows, slurring your words while you drooled. He smirked. You were made for this, the camera was eating you up like this. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about using this video when he was at home to get off. He leaned down to your ear, his plush lips kissing and biting at the shell before he whispered something only for you to hear "What a natural you are. Gotta have to request you as my partner more often from now on, don't I?" he was whispering in such a hot, breathless voice, it almost made you cum before you even should. He could feel that. And oh boy did it feed his ego.

"Does it turn you on? Being fucked on your best friends bed? By her dad?" Logan rumbled in character, kneading your tits. It took you a while to get a hold of your thoughts and the script, so Logan used that silence to keep whispering in your ear how fucking pretty your tits were. "Y-yes! I...I love it" you slurred, your voice raw from the moans you couldn't hold back for the life of you.

Logan hummed pleased. "Oh I bet you do, baby. Already so cockdrunk for me"

Your pussy felt so good with the way he was dragging his cock in and out, reaching places inside you you didn't knew existed. It was funny to you - you were supposed to fake moan and falsely contort your face in pleasure - but you didn't have to do any of that. If anything, you needed to shut up. You were moaning so loud and so prettily for Logan, it was almost excessive. You just couldn't help yourself. Every time you tried to shut your mouth, Logan would notice and pound into your sweet spot. He couldn't have you denying him of your cute sounds.

Not long and the scene ended with you squirting all over his cock and the sheets. That wasn't initially meant to happen, but with the way Logan was fucking you, you lost control as your orgasm hit. Logan tried to mask his surprise by going off script, continuing to circle your clit "Yes, such a good girl. Keep making a mess for me, baby" he groaned into your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, the overstimulation too much as you felt him cumming over your pussy. He hadn't expected you squirting, but it served perfectly to make him cum like he hadn't in a while.

Richie yelled cut again and Logan let go of your hips, making you fall flat onto the drenched sheets, completely boneless. You could hear faint applause and a warm hand on your back. As Richie approached the bed, Logan was quick to bring you his fluffy robe and wrapped it around you aftwr helping your shaken form to sit up, shielding you from prying eyes. The crew was highly professional for the most part, but there were some creeps shamelessly goggling at the actresses, especially newcomers. Sometimes Richie was one of them...

So Logan had a protective hand around your back, sprawled over your waist to keep you pressed into his side while you regained your composure. You were tired and worn out, but in a very very good way. Your core buzzed with warmth and so did the rest of your body. Without realising, you leaned your head onto Logans shoulders, softly closing your eyes for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Jesus Christ, you two were really going at it, huh?" Richie grinned and clapped his hands together. "I am deeply impressed with you, rookie. The camera loved you. Didn't even have to correct you at all. Can't believe you haven't done this before" the middle aged man chuckled and tried to discreetly pear down your cleavage to which Logan covered your upper body a bit more, staring Richie down. You didn't feel all too safe now, especially in your slight dazed state. But Logan was there and somehow being able to nuzzle into him for protection eased your mind greatly. "You two can go and take a break. I have Mirinda, Mandy and Josh for the next sesh. But after that, I'd like to see you both in action again. Maybe with another woman as well, how would you like that?"

Logan declined for you with a slight bite to his voice, excusing you and himself after he had wrapped a towel around his hips and brought you to his dressing room. Richie wasn't a bad man. But he was far from being appropriate at times. It happened rarely and mostly only to actresses who had been in this industry for years, but they knew how to treat directors like him for rude staring not to happen. But you were still so young and inexperienced with everything, so anxious and nervous. Logan wanted to protect that. Protect you. The industry was tough and he didn't want you to break under all of this like he did in the beginning himself.

"Thank you for uhm...getting me out of there" you mumbled as you began to dress yourself again with the clothes you had arrived in. You chuckled to yourself as Logan turned around when you put on your bra and underwear as if he hadn't just conpletely seen you bare and ruined you for every other man.

He scoffed. "Not for that. It was the least I could do. Sometimes he gets a bit creepy, but he his decent. He doesn't do more than stare, fortunately. Still, I'm sorry you had to endure that on your first day. But that's, sadly, how it is" he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and you shamelessly watched his muscles dip and contract from his movements.

You buttoned up your blouse and shrugged. "I expected it, honestly. But you were my knight in shining armor, or lack there of-" you laughed and Logan couldn't help but chuckle alongside you. "- so it wasn’t that bad. At least the sex was good"

Logan smirked. "It was?" he asked with a cocky undertone. He knew that it was, but hearing it from you directly made his chest flutter. Not that he would ever admit that. You nodded with a hum, slightly chewing on your bottom lip.

"I have to say the same. You have a great pussy" he blurts out, making both of you laugh. "There is more where that came from, lover boy" it was very easy to be comfortable around Logan and it made you feel a little less lost. It made you feel like you had a guiding hand and you were so grateful that he was there. It wasn’t his job to be your caretaker, he wasn't getting paid to tell you how to do things or protect you from backhanded nasty comments from filming crew members. But you were glad he instantly took you under his wing like this.

You couldn't wait to shoot with him again

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I had so much fun writing this! Let me hear your thoughts, do you want a part two?

And don't be scared, there is also going to be more sub!Logan soon and a few fluff drabbles as well. Stay tuned!

[leahwllmsn]

broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 9.7k

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing. 

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words). 

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately. 

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously. 

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.”

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.”

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all. 

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted. 

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today. 

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you. 

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you. 

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated. 

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you. 

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow. 

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next. 

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice. 

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs. 

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you. 

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you? 

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either. 

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.” 

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine. 

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting. 

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest. 

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.” 

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent. 

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out. 

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer. 

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself. 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile. 

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.” 

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up. 

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n? 

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m.  “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?” 

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia. 

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing. 

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

“Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again. 

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her. 

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her. 

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way. 

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath. 

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face. 

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away. 

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.” 

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations 

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT 

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS 

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

[13atoms]

The Morning After the Night Before (Declan O'Hara x Reader)

My first Rivals fic! Big shoutout to @stellamarielu and @rivalsispunk, who’s work I wholeheartedly recommend and was, inevitably, inspired by when I decided to join in writing about Declan! <3

Summary:

Bff’s dad!Declan x Younger!Reader

As a friend of Taggie’s from college, you’re invited up to the Priory for the Venturer party. By the next day Taggie and Maud have both vanished, you don’t want to leave Declan alone in that big empty house. [5k words]

Contains: Exposition, feelings, then a bit of smut. Exhibitionist!Declan, big age gap, post!Maud rebound sex, lots of foreplay, Declan is a fiend, 90% exposition, priory!sex

The Priory was quiet the day after Maud left. It was the first day of a new era, of Venturer, rung in with hangovers and that bittersweet feeling of a moment to celebrate passing by unacknowledged.

You weren’t sure why you couldn’t go anywhere else. Taggie had invited you up from London for the party, and then promptly been distracted by an MP with a sharp jawline and foul jokes, only to disappear with Seb at the end of the night. With her departure Taggie left you with the sense you were living in a haunted house, filled with Maud’s books and earrings on sidetables and the leftovers from the party to snack on whenever you could bring yourself to eat. Patrick and Caitlin had found friends to crash with. You knew why they couldn’t come back. You weren’t sure why you couldn’t leave.

Sometime in the early afternoon you had heard movement upstairs, and made yourself scarce, hiding in the lounge, tidying what you could and drifting along the spines of the novels which lined the O’Hara’s huge bookshelves. You’d picked up something that could’ve been Maud’s or Declan’s – you weren’t sure. It didn’t look well-worn. You’d been meaning to read The Shining for years, now seemed as good a time as any to sit at the end of the O’Hara’s sofa, and try not to think about what you had seen the night before.

“I didn’t realise you’d be staying.”

A hundred pages had passed before you heard that thick Irish lilt, rich with that kind of blunt hospitality which had to be imported from Dublin. You knew it sometimes rubbed people the wrong way, particularly in this passive-aggressive pocket of privately-educated England. You liked it.

He looked startling similar to the Declan O’Hara you were used to watching on TV. Not much like the Declan O’Hara who would pick Taggie up from club nights and sleepovers, waving with a sly, knowing smile from the car and asking if you’d be able to get home safely.

“Taggie invited me for the long weekend, but…”

You gestured around with the book at his empty living room. His empty house. There were streamers stuck in the rafters, too high up for you to grab and shove into a bin liner.

“Apologies for my daughter’s lack of hospitality,” he sighed, and sat down heavily in the armchair adjacent to your sofa, face in his hands for a moment.

He rubbed the skin of his forehead aggressively, and when he looked away his face was marked red, his hair thrown into chaos.

“That’s okay, I’m sure she’ll be back. The quiet is nice, after last night.”

Declan hummed, and spread his arms along the back of the chair, reclining. For once, spreading out didn’t make him look any bigger. He was wearing jeans and a smart white shirt, but it obviously hadn’t been ironed.

“You’re reading Stephen King?”

“Oh,” you closed the book around your fingers, showing him the cover, though he already knew, “yeah. A borrowed copy, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all! Please, borrow or eat or steal whatever takes your fancy. It’s the least I can do to make up for this shitshow. And my daughter’s forgetfulness…”

You chuckled, and looked anywhere but Declan. He had such an intense gaze, you wondered how anyone stood their own against him across an interview stage.

“It’s really fine. I’m glad she seems happy, or at least excited…”

Declan huffed, stared at the ceiling, and you couldn’t tell what it meant. His hands came together and met his lips like a prayer.

“Have you read The Shining?” You asked quickly.

He was a master of awkwardness, and of silence and question evasion, but you didn’t want to pressure Declan in his own home. If he were one of your friends, you’d already be crushing him in your arms, letting him break down against you in the fiercest hug you could imagine. Instead, he was Taggie’s dad, who you’d never been able to bear to look at too closely, and watched obsessively whenever he appeared on television. You’d even watched him judge a pagent, for God’s sake, crammed around a kitchen table with your housemates complaining and a VHS Taggie had sent whirring away in the player.

You felt a swoop of pride when he perked up at your question, a glint of white teeth visible as he leaned forwards to take the book from your hands, your page number lost. You’d find it again later, in exchange for that dry brush of his fingers against yours. Declan flicked through the pages, eyes moving quickly.

“I have. That’s my copy, in fact. I don’t think the girls ever ended up reading it.”

Something on the page caught his attention, and he hummed as he skimmed the prose.

“Oh, room 217, gives me the shivers even now,” he raised his eyebrows expectantly, and you frowned, tilting your head.

“I don’t think I’ve read that far…”

“Ah, shit. Pretend I didn’t say anything. He has a lovely time in room 217.”

He was joking, and you laughed to be polite. Declan looked drained. Exhausted, hungover, sad.

“Can’t wait,” you replied dryly, as Declan dropped the book onto the coffee table between you.

“I had to stop reading it in bed,” he admitted, glancing from side to side, as though his secrets might be revealed to some unwanted intruder, “I started waking Maud up, talking in my sleep about a ghost in the room.”

You laughed, again it was because Declan wanted you to – wanted to keep the mood light – but you never quite found the right pitch and volume. Maud. He seemed to remember then, talking about her, what had happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that fiasco yesterday,” he had shifted his voice, and become formal again, like he was introducing his show.

You remembered his falling face, Maud telling him to beg, bag in hand. You remembered Taggie, putting on a mask after the tears had fallen, and the hollow way she imitated the cheeky eyebrow raise you’d exchange over schoolgirl crushes and flirting in clubs, before she sought out a man old enough to be her father. She’d been crushed.

“No, it’s… don’t apologise for that. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t need to say what for. He shrugged, and stared up at the ceiling. The house was so, so quiet. Declan’s breathing was quiet, but you could see how laboured it was in the rise and fall of his chest.

“Do you think she’ll come back, after rehearsals?” you dared to ask.

“I don’t think she’ll come back after the run’s done, to be honest.”

There wasn’t anything to say. You looked up at the fireplace, ancient and beautiful. In the long centuries the house had stood, you wondered if it had seen any sadder sight than this.

“She’s a fucking star!” he announced, voice too loud and his hands flying up, up, before crashing back to his thighs.

You froze, watching him cautiously. He cleared his throat, and made fleeting eye contact as he glanced at you, suddenly appearing sheepish.

“Sorry, that was… sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”

You murmured that it was fine, but in truth you had no idea if you actually said anything. Declan was panting. Tears or rage seemed equally likely, and he looked at you beseechingly. You wished there was anything you could do to answer him. To help him. The silence went on for longer than you wanted, but there was nothing to say. What could you offer?

Not that ‘there would be others.’

Not that ‘she never deserved him’, handsome and sharp and so, so damn principled it made you ashamed.

He was clenching and unclenching his jaw. You could see it, the muscles flaring and thinning. Your heart pounded in sympathy, something hot and nauseating darting around your stomach, and when his eyes met your sympathetic gaze, you couldn’t bear it. You watched the floor by his feet.

“I knew she was cheating on me. This time, I mean.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not fair.”

Declan sighed, and rolled his head, stretching out his neck. You wondered if he’d been drinking, if he was still drunk. You could smell him, aftershave and sweat, but no whiskey. His eyes were clear and sharp, there was something so controlled about him. He was always in control of the frantic chaos around him. Action and madness had always circled around Declan.

“I’m just sorry for the girls. They deserve better than a father who can’t keep their mother. Or a job. Or a house,” he laughed hollowly, and fell back into his sofa again, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Mr O’Hara…”

He smirked at you from where he was collapsed, a twitch of his upper lip hidden by his moustache. You could really see his amusement in his eyes, sparkling. You thought of evenings spent at their London house, Declan making the family roar with laughter over a takeaway while Maud was elsewhere. He was always doing something, when he was with his kids. Inventing clever games and telling stories and beating you all at cards. He was a man in control of every room he entered.

“Please don’t sound like you work for me.”

“Sorry,” you teased back, “but don’t half those people last night work for you now?”

He groaned, head in hands, but it was teasing this time. You knew he was joking. Declan kept his eyes uncovered, checking your reaction.

“Christ knows. I’ve no idea who does and doesn’t. Maybe I work for them? It’s all on my head if it goes tits up, though. That’s the main thing.”

“That doesn’t sound stressful at all,” you collapsed a bit in sympathy, pressing your face to your forearm, laying against the arm of the sofa.

“No,” he groaned, “selfish as it is to say, a runaway wife is the last thing I need right now.”

“At least she’ll be happy,” you ventured, and froze as his stare fixed on you, heart catching in your mouth.

“Sorry,” you rambled, “as in, she’s doing what she loves. Not… not that you made her…”

He stayed quiet, and watched you. It was a poor thing to say and a misstep and suddenly you froze. You’d overstepped, lying on his sofa and reading his books and joking with him like he wasn’t Taggie’s bad.

“I just meant, it might be easier, not worrying so much. That she’s making her own choices, and you’re not to blame for whether she’s happy.”

“Maybe I did make her unhappy.”

“Declan…”

He ignored your plea, his gaze fixed firmly on you, warm and intense and melted-chocolate brown. It was far too much, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“I thought we were doing well. Not, well, per se, but well enough. Well enough that she wouldn’t leave me for London the first chance she got.”

You had no idea what to say. You let him speak.

“Everyone else in this fucking town seems to cheat at their heart’s content – God knows Corinium has herpes in the sofa cushions – and yet… I thought she wouldn’t. They all seem to pretend to be happily married, but my crime? Working too much? With the rate Maud burns through money, there’s no other choice. Venturer was all so I could finally stop being at someone else’s beck and call. She’d have supported that, back then. When we first met.”

When Declan stopped speaking, and let the room fall into uncomfortable silence, you realised you could hear your own heartbeat. It was pounding in your ears. Your pulse was thumping in your throat, and it hurt where your chin dug into your arm. The Priory was old and thick-walled and it absorbed all sound, so the quiet between you was absolute.

It wasn’t right, or any O’Hara home to be quiet. They were the loudest family you’d ever heard.

Finally, when it seemed like Declan was never going to speak again, you could bear to look at him again. He was still staring, but you weren’t sure he’d realised you were in the room. He looked so morose; you couldn’t bear it.

“I think Maud might never have been happy here. No matter what you did. If all she wanted was to be on-stage, what else can replace that?”

“She wants attention,” Declan sighed, “that’s what Maud’s always wanted. To be adored. Maybe she didn’t feel adored enough.”

“I think a lot of women would feel lucky, I mean, watching you with Maud… it was obvious how you felt for her.”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, and rest his head against the arm of the oversized armchair, mirroring you.

“I’ve often wondered if she needs too much for any one man to give,” he speculated, the gentle rhythm of light-hearted teasing was back in his voice.

You were surprised to realise how much you’d missed it. Still, you weren’t sure what to say.

“She needs hundreds,” he continued, “fawning over her every night, cheering and throwing flowers. And maybe someone to watch her in the odd play as well.”

You laughed, sincerely this time, and it made Declan laugh too.

“God, that’s terrible,” you played at scolding, but had no heart for it.

Declan was smiling, indulgently, watching you sideways with half of his face pressed into his armrest and forearm. He was flexing his hand out absentmindedly.

“True, though,” he scoffed, “I always wondered what you must have thought, when you girls got all dressed up to go out and Maud showed up, all miniskirts and cleavage. You must’ve thought she was a nutter, trying to outdress her own daughters.”

“I actually asked her if she wanted to come out with us once,” you remembered fondly, “I was sure Taggie was about to murder me with a curling iron.”

Declan chuckled. Lethargic and curled up on an armchair, the fierceness of two decades in entertainment melted off him. You could see his frownlines when he raised his eyebrows to listen to you, but they soon smoothed again. Was this how he had looked when Maud first met him, gentle, relaxed?

“I was always glad she had you,” Declan admitted, “I was glad to see you, on the nights you’d all go out together. Knew that meant there’d be someone to look out for her.”

Something had changed, and he was talking to you as a peer. Dissecting a time when you’d been younger, known less. Maybe seeing his wife walk out on him qualified you to speak on equal terms.

“I think Taggie’s the most sensible person I know, I’m not sure she ever needed me.”

Declan sighed, and gestured into thin air, and you remembered how the two of you had ended up alone in the house. The hours of tears over Rupert Campbell Black, a small fortune in phone bills that Declan had paid silently, as penance for bringing his family to the Cotswolds.

“She’s got a good heart. Not sure I’d say sensible.”

You wanted to argue, but you knew Declan adored his kids above all else.

“With their genetics, I’m afraid all of them were going to end up brash. Emotional.”

��Clever, though. And kind. Isn’t that what matters?” you weren’t talking about Maud, and Declan knew it.

“They’re already better people than we ever were,” was all he offered.

You had been completely enraptured by their new house when you visited, and privately fascinated by the ‘countryside’ version of Declan. You had hoped he’d be less stressed, but from what you’d gleaned about his business ventures, nothing could be further from the truth. Nonetheless, there was something different about him.

About how he watched you.

Something self-assured, despite Maud and his kids abandoning the house. Perhaps it was your imagination, but it looked as though Declan was trying to work something out.

“What are you going to do now?” you asked.

“Hang out with you, I suppose. If you don’t mind.”

You remained silent. Declan read people for a living, and he knew that wasn’t what you’d meant.

“I suppose I’m meant to wait for her to come back,” he sighed, “and beg again, perhaps. Try not to catch crabs off whatever actor she’s under.”

You couldn’t help it – you winced.

“Sorry – I shouldn’t say shit like that. Tag would tell me off. I just… I’m not sure how many more times I can take it. It’s humiliating. Pathetic.”

“You’re taking the high road, I suppose…”

“Ah, fuck the high road!” he interrupted you, and threw his head back against the back of the sofa, “I’m tired of the sodding high road. There’s no one there, at the end of it, saying ‘congratulations on keeping your wedding vows while your wife fucked another man’. I know Maud. She’ll fuck around in London, and if it goes badly she’ll crawl back, and mope until she finds another ‘casting agent’ to fuck. If it goes well, I’ll never see her again, and if Venturer ever makes a profit she’ll divorce me to get it.”

You weren’t sure what to say, and when Declan’s brown eyes met yours past the forearm he’d thrown over his face, you realised his eyes were glassy.

“Sorry, you didn’t ask to hear all that. Christ.”

“No, I… I’m glad you’ve got someone to talk to. Declan… I can’t imagine.”

“Do you know what isn’t fair? What really isn’t fair? For all that talk about being abandoned and lonely and bored, I’d come back after work, or sneak back on my lunch break, and it was always ‘not now, Declan’. Every single time. ‘Neglected’ my arse.”

When you froze, it felt like a prey instinct. Declan was talking about his sex life. To you. His lack of a sex life. Christ. The way Taggie complained about her parents, you’d imagined something very different from Declan. You’d imagined Declan a lot, in fact.

“What a fucking hypocrite.”

You weren’t sure if it was your swearing, or your sentiment, but Declan’s face cracked into a grin.

“You’re telling me!”

“God, if I had a man in my gorgeous house, sneaking back on his lunch breaks…” you broke off with a laugh, and looked anywhere but Declan.

“You’d what?”

Was he closer? Declan’s voice was serious, and you had to glance towards him to realise he’d leant forwards, elbows on his knees.

“I’d take every chance I could get,” you finished quietly, and the words seemed to linger in the room forever.

“Atta girl,” Declan murmured.

Fuck. You could hear the shifting of his clothes as he fidgeted in his seat.

For a long time, you remained in silence, wondering if the heat you felt would suddenly dissipate. The air had become molasses thick, and you couldn’t look at Declan. He wasn’t far away, a few feet, when he leant forwards. Finally he slumped back into his armchair, legs spread obscenely far apart.

“Do you have a boyfriend, back home?”

You wanted to laugh. In disbelief. In embarrassment. Your clothes felt too tight against your heated skin. Instead, you murmured a no.

“Good. Not a damn man in London good enough for ya.”

The silence played out a little longer. You wondered whether Declan cared about fidelity at all. If he was going to move at all. For a while you just watched him. Forced yourself not to look down, top see if he was as turned on as you felt. It was obscene, how exhaustion and stress and misery still couldn’t hamper his good looks.

There was something more than look about Declan, though. Something in his mannerism. The intensity he watched you with. The way he catalogued every little time you’d interacted. The way he was letting his eyes sweep across you, his gaze hot and searching.

“I don’t want you to regret this, I’m not…” he began.

“I know what a rebound is.”

Your voice was so hollow, it turned bitter, and surprised you. His lust-drunk eyes widened suddenly, and the tension returned to his face. You could feel your own body respond, growing tenser, startled.

“I don’t know what you take me for, sweetheart, but I’m a damn sight older than the boys you’re used to. I wouldn’t know how to ‘play games’ if I tried. I swear. This is the first chance I’ve had to fuck you, and if you’ll let me take it, you’ll have a good time. I promise, the greatest thing about you is that you’re not my wife.”

He paused for breath, and seemed to struggle for a moment. You noticed his hand gripping his thigh, stopping it from shaking.

“You’re kind, and patient, and you listen to me, and you’ve read bloody Stephen King from my bookshelf without me begging you to care about what I care about.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gorgeous. As soon as Taggie brought you here, I knew you’d ruin my fucking life. You used to ask me how every show went, do you remember? Back at the BBC? Not even my damn wife did that.”

He held a hand out for you, but you weren’t sure what to do with it once you took it. Fingers entwined, you climbed onto his armchair, straddling his lap. Declan groaned, and latched onto the exposed column of your neck, his free hand enormous as it found your waist.

“Oh, your ego likes me? Is that it?”

“Him too,” Declan murmured, and shifted, so that you suddenly realised you could feel him, hard against the crotch of your jeans.

“You’re too young for me,” he murmured against your skin.

“Who cares?”

He laughed, and you knew it was what he’d wanted to hear. Declan pulled more of your weight onto him until you were practically crushing him, thighs on thighs and chest to chest, and then he kept squeezing until his closeness began to hurt.

You rolled your hips and ground down against his lap, hoping to distract him, and Declan groaned, bassy and gorgeous.

“Tag can never know,” you breathed, and felt Declan’s hand move further up your torso in response, clutching the underside of your breast.

“Never,” he agreed, “never.”

When you wrapped both hands around his face and detached him from the underside of your jaw, Declan only released with a grotesque, went smack. You missed the feel of his tongue, skin chilled where his mouth had been, but it was far more important to pull him to your lips. He went willingly, head heavy in your control, looking up at you with glazed hazelnut eyes.

Declan groaned when he kissed you, matching his hands to your face as he took control.

“Do you know how fucking glad I was to see you yesterday?” he groaned against your lips, migrating across your face until he could return to the sensitive join of your jawline and neck, “and I couldn’t even admit to myself why. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Honourable,” you mumbled, “I think it’s honourable.”

His hands were back on your body, groping until he could shove your bra up, pinching at your nipples through your clothes.

“You’re not gonna think I’m very honourable after tonight, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?”

You were grinding on Declan, desperate for the flashes of friction you could find against the seam of your jeans. He kept getting distracted, groaning when you found an angle he could feel.

“Think I might make you cry, I wanna see if I can make you tell me to stop. You ever been eaten out?”

When you didn’t respond, he squeezed your breast hard, making you yelp. You could feel the jolt from the pain between your legs. He cooed as he rubbed the pain away.

“Sorry baby, didn’t realise you were so sensitive,” he was mocking you, and it was making your entire body thrum.

A laugh shuddered from you, and Declan finally slid a huge, warm palm beneath your shirt and across your stomach.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come upstairs, and we can get these clothes off, hm? Unless you want people to see.”

He slid a hand to the back of your neck, just firm enough to keep you facing down towards him. With his other hand, he began pulling your shirt up, until it was peaking above the mess he’d made of your bra, flesh spilling out obscenely.

“You’re right opposite the window, you know love, that big driveway. Anyone could be coming up to the house… and see you like this. All mine.”

Even lust-addled, you gasped, and tried to look up, but Declan’s grip on your neck stopped you, forcing you to stare down at him.

“You want me to make you cum here, right in from of anyone? In front of Tony? Or Rupert? The postman? My wife might walk back in right now…”

“No!” you gasped, trying to ignore the feeling of him kneading at your exposed breasts, your bra cutting a tight line across them, “please, Declan…”

“You’re sure? I don’t care,” he told you, glib, as he toyed with whether he could reach his mouth to your nipples, a wet tongue snaking across your skin.

“Declan!”

Finally, you wriggled away, and he gave up the moment you resisted him. You glanced up at the gravel driveway, exhaling shakily at finding it empty. Declan was chuckling to himself, pulling your torso closer again so he could mouth at your flesh.

“I did ask if you wanted to go upstairs, I think you were distracted.”

Finally, you could bring yourself to laugh breathily, pulling your shirt down despite Declan’s wandering hands fighting you.

“Upstairs!” you demanded, and pulled Declan to his feet.

He was walking differently, from how hard he was, and you palmed over his crotch, desperate to feel him. Declan groaned, and reluctantly tugged your hand away, adjusting himself.

“Before you get too mad at me,” he returned to your neck, and spun you in front of him, forearms bracing across your chest and stomach, forcing him against you.

You realised then he was framing you against a mirror, forcing you to look at how ravaged the pair of you looked. And the clear view Declan had of the driveway behind you.

“You’re a bastard, Mr O’Hara.”

Declan laughed, but you could see the colour rising in his cheeks, the gulp which moved his Adam’s apple.

“I told you you’d say that.”

“I’d assumed for better reasons than that,” you teased.

You wrapped your fingers around his belt, and began moving the leather to undo the buckle. Declan groaned and it caught in the back of his throat, rising to a whimper.

“C’mon, old man. You’ve made me some big promises.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep them,” he admitted, “if you keep touching me like that.”

“That’s okay,” you ran your hands along the inside of his waistband, feeling his stomach muscles twitch at the contact. “I know it’s been a while. How about you put that silver tongue to use first, yeah?”

“Christ,” Declan groaned, as you finally undid his fly. You stroked across the fabric of his underwear, and Declan threw his head back. His eyes were clenched shut, and his wandering hands had finally fallen to his sides.

“Do you think you’ll make it up the stairs?” you teased, “or should I just go up and finish this off on my own?”

Finally, he opened his eyes, and encircled your wrist with his fingers, pulling you away from him.

“Don’t say shit like that, love,” he went for your ear again, teeth grazing the skin and his lips salving where he’d been, “I’ve imagined that enough for a lifetime.”

“Oh yeah?”

You drifted your hand across his shaft one more time, and Declan let you, loosening his grip on your wrist.

“Come on then,” you teased, and took off.

He was slow, slower in his current state, but you let him chase you, up the stairs and across the landing, his breathless, deep laugh following you as he gave pursuit.

“I’m not that old,” he insisted, as he finally caught you on the upstairs landing, wrapping his arms around you from behind and briefly pulling you from the ground.

“Never said you were.”

“You’re really making me work for this,” Declan growled, sliding a hand down the front of your jeans. You laughed, safe in his grasp.

“I was just worried we’d never get up those fucking stairs.”

He chuckled, and pulled you against the bannisters, fighting with the button of your jeans. You laughed, and let him struggle, until the moment he succeeded, and his fingers met your clit, slippery and swollen.

“Please, just pick a room,” you begged.

“C’mon, love. Give me one here.”

You realised his gaze was out, across the fields, on the path where any one of the bastards in this village might see the pair of you. They wouldn’t, of course, but that was far from the point.

“Declan!”

“C’mon, just one.”

“Make it quick,” you conceded, and gasped as he let his finger slip fast over your clit. You could see the bliss on his face in the reflection of the window.

“That’s up to you, love. Think you can be good for me?”

“You’re the one,” you gasped, as he changed pressure again, experimenting, “you’re the one fingering me, Declan.”

He kissed you, suddenly, sweetly, on the cheek, fingers still working quickly over your clit. Despite the pressure building in between your hips, you laughed.

“What?” you asked him, catching him grinning to himself in the glass.

“I can’t believe I just heard you say that.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Your Secret (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You and Melissa desperately try to keep your secret during Development Day

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of marking

“Where’d you get that sweatshirt?”

You looked down at your body, the familiar grey material soft against your skin. Your thumb ran over the worn cuff, the scent clinging to it helping to calm your heart. The faded design on the front was barely visible any longer, the years wearing it away.

“Why?” you asked, looking back to Janine, “I don’t think it’s going to salvage your outfit.”

“Hey,” she protested.

You lent over, hand extended. Melissa’s slapped against yours, the move practiced to the point where neither of you had to look at one another. The slide of her palm against yours still sent warmth up your arm, her touch familiar and still so enticing. Her eyes flickered up to you, then down your body before returning to the work in front of her.

“No really, it looks familiar,” Janine said, interrupting your thoughts.

You froze, Melissa doing the same in your periphery.

“Well, it’s not the only one in existence,” you replied, keeping your voice level.

There was no need for her to know exactly where you got it from. No one else needed to know the memory of gentle hands gently zipping you up into it that morning, or the soft kiss you’d received before leaving, hands tugging on the pockets until a warm body brushed against yours. No one had to know the whispered words in your ear or the promises made about wearing your girlfriend’s clothes. No one had to know how you buried your nose in the collar, just to smell her when she wasn’t there.

“I’m sure plenty of people have those,” Melissa said.

“I suppose,” she said, “maybe I’ve just seen you wear it before.”

“Maybe,” you said.

Your eyes flicked up, finding Melissa’s before you both looked away.

“Oh the sweatshirt?” you asked later while filming an interview for the camera crew, “it’s just a sweatshirt. Nothing special about it.”

The director raised an eyebrow.

“I just like it,” was all you could say.

A hand shot out of a classroom as you passed by, grasping you by the wrist and pulling you in. The door slammed shut, echoing down the hall in the least subtle manner you’d seen. Which was saying a lot given you knew Janine. The hold around you wrist tightened, tugging you forward against a warm body.

“You need to take this off,” Melissa growled, tugging on the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“I could do that but there’s going to be a lot more questions if I do,” you replied, “hence why you lent it to me.”

Fingers played with the zipper, pulling it down just low enough for her to see the dark bruises on your skin. You shivered as she traced one, smirking down at your chest. Reaching out, you rested your hands on her hips, sliding around until your hands found their way into the back pockets of her jeans.

“Do you really want me to take it off?” you asked.

“Not unless you have something to replace it with,” she said, still staring down at your chest.

“I don’t but tonight, when we’re done here and we go back to your place,” you murmured, drawing closer to her, “I’ll take off anything you want me to.”

“I’ll take that deal,” she said before kissing you.

You’d never grow tired of her kissing you.

“Now you get that sexy ass outta here before Janine begins asking any more questions.”

Her fingers were slow as she zipped up the sweatshirt again, fingers ghosting over your skin. You pressed another kiss to her lips, a promise of later caught between you. You slipped out of her classroom, inhaling the scent of her on the collar of her sweatshirt.

Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you got to work cleaning up your own classroom on the second floor. Rearranging desks and hanging up posters, you pushed the sleeves up your arms. Then you paused, remembering Melissa doing that exact action in that exact sweatshirt. The grin on your face was all your own.

“Hey, nice sweatshirt.”

You spun, finding Jacob in your doorway.

“Yeah, it’s the talk of development day, apparently,” you replied, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Have you worn it here before?” he asked, “only it looks so familiar.”

“Maybe,” you said.

“Looks good,” he said.

“Thanks.”

You turned away from him, going back to the work he’d interrupted. That had to be the end of it. It had to be. It was just a sweatshirt. And you didn’t have an alternate option to cover the skin exposed by your tank top.

Hours later, the phone in your pocket vibrated. You pulled it out, the group chat calling you away to join the gang in the staff room. You sighed, rolling your eyes. Someone had let Janine back in, probably Gregory.

Shoving your hands into the pockets of the hoodie, you sauntered a few doors down. People were gathered around a table. Your eyes immediately found Melissa, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of her.

“What’s the emergency?” you asked.

“They’ve found old photos of past development days,” Melissa replied.

You gasped, “we can see young Barbra?”

Melissa nudged your shoulder as you came to stand beside her, flashing you one of those fond smiles you’d grown drunk on over the summer. The brush of her arm against yours was thrilling, even after all the months you’d been with her. Touching her in a room full of people when they didn’t know, it was a heady combination.

“Melissa, is this you?” Janine was pointing at a faded photo from the early 2000s.

“You that bad at recognising faces?” she asked, crossing her arms and pursing her lips.

“Oooo I want to see baby Melissa,” you said, reaching out for the photo.

You plucked it out of Janine’s hand, eyes scanning for the familiar red head. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you tried to contain your grin, seeing her there with the others, so familiar and yet like a whole other person.

“Aw, look at you,” you said, showing her the picture, “this woman looks like she’s fun.”

“I don’t look like I’m fun?” She cocked her hip, eyebrow raising.

“You’re very fun,” you replied, patting her shoulder.

She looked over your shoulder at the photo again. Your own eyes turned down to it before they widened. You were slow to look at her, finding her own eyes already on you. She snatched it out of your hand.

“What is it?” Janine asked, looking between you and her.

“None of your business,” Melissa snapped.

The photo was snatched out of her hand. Your mouth fell open, Jacob seemingly shocked at his own daring, shoving it at Janine. She looked down at it, then back at you. Gregory looked over his shoulder, face growing blank as he looked up at you too, gaze lingering on your top.

“Isn’t this the same sweatshirt you’re wearing?” Janine asked.

“Is it?” Jacob snatched the picture back from her.

His head swivelled from it to you to Melissa.

“I must have borrowed it from her,” you said, looking at her.

“Melissa doesn’t share clothes,” Janine said.

“Not with people she doesn’t like,” you replied, “she likes me.”

“And I know she won’t make anything I lend her look terrible,” Melissa said.

“Didn’t you recognise it when I asked you earlier?” she asked.

“Whaddaya mean?” she asked in return.

“Earlier, I said the sweatshirt looked familiar and you both said it was something other people owned too. Didn’t you recognise it?” she said.

“Maybe I didn’t want you prying into my business,” she replied.

There was a moment of silence.

“You’ve let her wear your leather jacket before too,” Gregory said.

“What?” Melissa whipped towards him

“More than once,” Jacob said.

“You won’t even let me touch it,” Janine said.

You turned to look at her, finding her eyes turning to you too. She gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. You curled your arms around your body, pressing the soft material to your skin, the second best thing to her touch. You tilted your head, raising both your eyebrows at her.

A sharp intake of breath had both of your heads snapping around. Janine was looking between to the two of you, eyes widening, a grin spreading over her face. You opened your mouth before a warm hand slapped over it. Melissa was glaring across the table at the young woman, not acknowledging the way your lips brushed her palm.

“You two are-“ Janine tried to say before Melissa interrupted.

“We’re friends.”

You saw Jacob’s eyes widening and your shoulders slumped. Grasping her wrist, you were gentle to take her hand from your mouth.

“Mel,” you whispered, “I think the game is up.”

Her eyes flashed to yours before softening. You threaded your fingers through hers, giving her a small smile, slightly sad and yet there was a bit of relief.

“We’ve been together for almost a year,” you said, turning to look at the assembled group.

Janine was grinning so wide.

“And that’s all we’re telling youse about it,” Melissa said.

“This is great. This is so great. Who else knows? Do we have to keep it a secret?” she shot at the two of you.

“You figure it out,” Melissa said.

She dragged you out of the room by your joined hands. You guided her to your classroom, closing the door quietly. Seating her on one of your desks, you stood between her legs, hands sliding up her thighs to hold her hips.

“So they know,” you prompted.

“I don’t like it,” she growled.

“I know,” you said, “I know we wanted it to keep it quiet. But we couldn’t keep it a secret forever.”

“Couldn’t we?” she asked, the anger still bubbling below the surface.

“Honey.” You tucked some hair behind her ear, “when we get married I don’t want to keep that a secret. I’ll want to be showing off that I bagged the hottest woman in Philly.”

“When we get married?”

You chuckled, leaning forward until your forehead was pressed against hers. Her breath puffed over your lips, arms winding around your neck.

“I want you forever, Melissa Schemmenti. I want you to be mine in every way possible,” you murmured.

When she kissed you, it was like sunshine was being poured directly into your heart. You melted against her, pulling her closer, never wanting any space between the two of you. The way she sighed into your mouth told you she wanted the same thing.

“See? I told you.”

You stepped out of the way, watching Melissa grit her teeth as she hopped off the table. She strode to the door, Janine already running away.

“I’ll meet you at home later?” you called after her.

She raised her hand in acknowledgement, following in the receding footsteps of Janine. Yeah, you were going to marry that woman one day.

[willowsnook]

I need a drink girly!! (Am I allowed to to put 3-4 alcohol choices? Idk)

Alcohol Vodka (it’s always been you.), Gin (Watch your fucking mouth.), Brandy (Do you enjoy pissing me off?), Wiskey (You’re mine, end of discussion.)

Mixer: Italian soda (Charles Leclerc)

Glass: Cooper Mug (Enemies *to lovers?🫶🏻🫶🏻🙏🏻*)

charles leclerc x reader

it's always been you watch your fucking mouth do you enjoy pissing me off? you're mine, end of discussion

-----------------------------------------------------

As Arthur's best friend, you were no stranger to F1 and F2 races, though you definitely preferred the latter, which surprised a lot of people. In your defense, you didn’t have to share Arthur at F2 races. Anytime he dragged you along to F1, you were stuck hanging with both him and his older brother, Charles.

Growing up with the Leclercs, you knew Charles very well, and you had always fought with him for Arthur's attention. Since you and Arthur were the same age, you naturally became fast friends, especially because your families were always around each other.

Charles had been closer with your older brother, but when he went off to boarding school, Charles turned his focus solely to teasing you. His teasing always revolved around you following Arthur like a lost puppy and your supposed schoolgirl crush. It had made you insecure at first, but Arthur assured you many times over the years that he didn’t see you that way. Besides, you’d seen Arthur at his worst too many times to ever consider him romantically.

“Do you enjoy pissing me off?” A familiar voice called from behind you in the Ferrari garage, and you smirked before turning around.

“What? You don’t like my outfit?” you asked innocently. Dressed in papaya orange, you twirled to flaunt your McLaren attire, purposely donning Oscar’s number to rile him up.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear another team’s colors when you’re in our garage,” Charles said bossily, and you snorted. “Where’s your little boyfriend anyway? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you grumbled just as Arthur strolled in, pulling his brother into a hug.

“Don’t stop your flirting on my account,” Arthur teased, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I’d rather cut my tongue off than flirt with her,” Charles retorted.

“Likewise,” you shot back, glaring at him. Arthur, amused as always, ushered you out of the garage, handing you off to Rebecca. You pouted, and he gave you a look.

“Until you and Charles realize you’re madly in love with each other, we’ll have to keep doing this split custody thing,” he teased.

The idea made you laugh. Yes, Charles had grown more attractive as you both got older, and you did find yourself laughing at his jokes when he wasn’t looking. And Charles had noticed you’d grown up quite nicely, tracking you with his eyes whenever you were together, much to Arthur’s amusement.

In Arthur’s mind, it was only a matter of time. After all, what could be better than the two most important people in his life ending up together?

A little later, you were grabbing a water outside the garage when two girls complimented your outfit.

“It’s nice to see someone here in something other than red,” one of them joked, and you laughed along.

“I can’t stand Ferrari, especially Charles,” she added, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked curiously.

“He’s so cocky, it’s insufferable to watch,” she said, and your expression hardened.

“Have you met him?” you asked.

“Well, no,” she stammered.

“So just because you’ve watched a few interviews and didn’t like his answers, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, you’ve decided he’s an asshole?”

The girl stuttered, but you cut her off.

“Charles is one of the most down-to-earth people I know. And even if he was cocky, he’d have every right to be. His driving record speaks for itself. So maybe watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about him,” you snapped before turning on your heel and storming off.

Rushing around the corner, you slammed right into a hard chest. Looking up to apologize, you realized it was Charles, giving you the strangest look. He had clearly heard everything.

Mumbling an apology, you scurried away before he could say anything.

You stuck to Arthur’s side for the rest of qualifying and groaned when he mentioned that Charles had invited both of you to join him, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre for dinner later.

When you met the group in the lobby, Arthur grew suspicious when you and Charles didn’t bicker the entire way to dinner.

“Did you guys have sex?” he blurted out, causing you to choke on your water. Charles looked at him in alarm before shifting his gaze to you.

“No, Arthur! Jesus,” you sputtered.

“Then why are you both being so weird?” he pressed.

“I don’t think we’re being weird at all,” Charles said smoothly. “Right, Carlos?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Carlos muttered, turning back to Lando. Arthur eyed the two of you closely for the rest of the night, until an idea popped into his head.

As you all left the restaurant, he was supposed to call an UberXL.

“Sorry, guys, only normal Ubers available,” he said. “Y/n and Charles can grab their own ride back.”

Before you could protest, the car pulled up, and Arthur practically shoved everyone else inside, leaving you and Charles standing there, dumbfounded.

“Wanna just walk?” you suggested, breaking the silence. He nodded, and the two of you set off back toward the hotel.

“I heard what you said earlier,” he said, testing the waters.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied nonchalantly.

“Uh huh,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “I didn’t know you were capable of saying nice things about me.”

“I didn’t like hearing them talk about you like they knew you,” you confessed. “It’s different when I do it. I have evidence to back it up.”

“Oh, do you now?” he asked, smirking, and you smiled lightly.

“Tons.”

As you approached the busy street near the hotel, Charles grabbed your hand to lead you across. You blushed, and your face grew even redder when he didn’t let go once you reached the other side.

“Thank you, though, for what you said,” he said quietly, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze in response.

“If only Arthur could see us now,” you joked, and Charles laughed. “He’s always been obsessed with the idea of us being together.”

“Yeah, because he knew how big of a crush I had on you back then,” Charles said nonchalantly, and you halted.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, stunned.

"It was always you that I wanted to spend time with, not him," Charles said gazing into your eyes. "All those times I was 'trying to steal him away' was really just trying to be around you."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Charles shrugged, pulling you along to walk again, "Honestly for a while I thought you were into him. And then we didn't see each other for a while and when we did I decided that if pretending to fight for his attention was how I would get to be around you I just went with it."

“Charles…” you began, but your voice faltered, unsure of what to say next.

He glanced down, a small, sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. But now... I’m tired of pretending.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The busy street noise faded into the background, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

“I had no idea,” you finally whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Well, now you do,” he said, his tone soft but sure, his hand still firmly holding yours.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand again and smiled. “Maybe… we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

His face lit up, the nervous energy between you dissolving into something lighter, warmer. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your cheek.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I’ve waited long enough.”

With that, you let out a small laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement settle in your chest. As you started walking again, this time with your fingers still intertwined, it felt different—easier, natural.

[inchidentally]

Okay so I was thinking about why Oscar didn’t go and congratulate Lando right after his win but I think the answer is quite simple. It’s because he felt a little at odds with himself.

He lost out in that race because of the safety car the same one that secured Lando’s chance. (you can hear him audibly swear over the radio when it came out, which he NEVER does) He was pissed at the timing and then to top it all off gets his race ruined by Carlos of all people (again) and THEN when he’s desperately trying to force his way back thought he field he’s told to stop fighting because Lando is in the lead.

So whilst I’m sure he was happy for Lando, he was, at the same time, mourning his own loss. As he should! He’s a racing driver. he should be pissed at losing especially at no fault of his own.

So he gave Lando the space, let him take in his well deserved victory and once he’d calmed he congratulated Lando earnestly, without his feeling for his own race getting in the way!

And I think it’s says a lot about how understanding and kind Oscar is. He knew if he congratulated Lando as soon as they crossed the line he wouldn’t have meant it enough so he waited until he did mean it.

What do you think?

KES BABE you're gonna make me long post !!!

I've actually got to weigh in (pun intended) with a very real technicality that my cousin pointed out when I was looking for Oscar once we finally got to watch!

all of the drivers who congratulated Lando not only were father figures/big brother figures to him, they also finished in the top 10 and quite literally had finished their weigh in nice and quick - the exception being Daniel who did not have to go and see the stewards. quite literally Oscar had to wait toward the back of the queue to finish his parc ferme shit (did we ever even get eyes on him?) from there he had to go see the stewards. depending on who they spoke to first out of him, Carlos and KMag and how long they kept him in the meeting, from there he'd have had to find out where Lando was (celebrating? interviews? cool down room?) and then run around to wherever he was. and ofc if he was in cool down he wouldn't have been allowed in.

so technically maybe Lando would've still been easy to find in Oscar's gap between finishing in parc ferme and going to the stewards, he might also have been stood waiting for his interview or even doing it or he might have already headed to the cool down room etc etc etc.

but I am NOT going to expect Oscar to try and navigate all of that when he not only had his top 3 position ruined but now he also had to go and find out if he was going to be penalized as well !!

especially when he knows he's got ample time to congratulate Lando anyway and Oscar is not remotely the type to care if cameras are around to broadcast it or not. the other non-podium drivers were going to entirely different garages and who knows when they'd cross paths with Lando again.

so honestly I personally think this all came down to technicalities more than anything else and if Oscar had finished in the top 10 at least then he would've absolutely been right there to congratulate Lando both for the ease of it but also bc it wouldn't have been as awful a result even if did receive a penalty.

and equally if he had the time to think of it, he would've assumed Carlos was already headed up there to congratulate Lando (and possibly could have seen him) and it was not !! the time for Oscar and Carlos to cross paths at that moment !!

BUT AS YOU SAID !! I think if there was time for him to get past the frustration and anger at what had happened to his own race and those mitigating factors weren't as much of an issue as I'm guessing they were, we know damn well that he'd be thinking what you said <3<3 bc even when things are going horrendously for him, Oscar never loses his head. and if he at all thought he'd bring his own negativity to the biggest moment in Lando's career so far then no WAY would he have risked it.

and bottom line is that one hug has ended up paling in comparison with how much Oscar was there for Lando in Oscar accepting 50% of the upgrades, obeying team orders for Lando rather than trying to get back in the points, showing up for Lando's celebrations twice in a major way, then going out to celebrate him all night long and posting about his win on social media for days afterward <3 like sure it would've had wider publicity if there'd been a hug right after - but Lando's beaming smile and thanking Oscar shows that he doesn't rate publicity as being more significant than everything else Oscar did for him that weekend ;__;

and what's actually really killed me is that surely surely there had to be an element of it for Lando where he remembered last year telling the press how it stung and hurt that Oscar had achieved any kind of win before him. that Oscar was never a showboat about it and always specified that it was a sprint win and not a real race win. that Lando was always the one to bring it up and give Oscar his dues but that Oscar never brought it up again afterward himself. and the mounting anxiety for Lando of what if Oscar got that race win before him? and how much that anxiety must have been at it's peak watching Oscar leading in Miami?? literally I think it would've been too much to humanly expect Lando to cope at all well. I think the absolute least amount of grace we would have given him would be to not go and immediately celebrate it with Oscar but honestly? if he'd decided to just do his post race interviews and slip away quietly until the video with Andrea then none of us would have judged him for it AT ALL. it would have been an unavoidably bittersweet day and knowing what the press and haters would have done to him would have paled in comparison to Lando having to live with knowing that Oscar got there first and so much quicker. and genuinely I think it would have taken a certain amount of shine off of it for Oscar as well and he would not have even slightly expected Lando to put himself through any more of it than strictly necessary for appearances.

(seriously I think we all breathed a sigh of relief over this win as much as we were elated about it !! we will never have to exist in a timeline where Oscar got his race win before Lando)

so not only will Lando have not remotely expected Oscar to show up in parc ferme for a hug, he has clearly counted every moment of Oscar celebrating his win as golden and beyond the call of teammate duty. and that not only did he make sure that posterity recorded Oscar's achievements earlier in that race, he made sure that he thanked him by setting the example of what could be done on just half the upgrades.

we all expected each of the hugs Lando got right after that race. each of those men has helped to raise Lando and has watched him since he was small and awkward and painfully shy and suffering heart-wrenching race results. they needed to hold their boy in his moment of purest happiness.

but none of us could have reasonably assumed how Oscar - only just out of his rookie season and Lando's teammate of just one season and a bit - would react to such a devastating race for himself while also on the biggest day of his teammate's career to date.

one hug would honestly have been a perfectly fine bare minimum and plenty of other drivers would have called that good and begged off.

equally tho one measly hug shouldn't make anyone underestimate how extraordinarily above and beyond and then some Oscar has been for Lando for the past week. that not only has he celebrated it and celebrated Lando, he's done so in proportion to people older than him who have known Lando much longer than him and who are not direct rivals to Lando.

like genuinely, the general F1 fans keep saying what a gentlemen and exemplary one-of-a-kind teammate Oscar has been through all of this and they're absolutely right. we not only got to rejoice in Lando's win, we also get to rejoice that he has a teammate who has proven his worth and made the McLaren driver partnership secure for the years they have to come <3<3

[disastrouscanasta]

A GUIDE TO PHIL OCHS

So, you’re interested in Phil Ochs? Great! You want to learn more about him? Awesome!

Where to start? …good question.

I started my Phil Ochs-learning journey by mindlessly skimming his little Spotify Artist bio, then, one day I got curious and read his entire, yes, entire Wikipedia page. This was months before I would be gripped by an overwhelming need to know absolutely EVERYTHING I could get my hands on about this guy. And while those are good jumping-points, it would have been nice to have a gentle hand to guide me in a vague direction, and that’s what this list is for!

Documentaries:

Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune (2010), a documentary by Kenneth Bowser, with interviews from Ochs’ family members: Meegan, Michael, Sonny, etc, as well as other names from his folk community, such as Joan Baez, Jim Glover, Larry “Ratso” Sloman, etc. It’s not very in-depth, but it’s where most people get their starting info.

(Can be found on youtube)

Chords of Fame (1984) was the first “documentary” made of Phil Ochs, less than a decade after his death. It’s part doc, part reenactment (Ochs is played by Bill Burnett) and honestly not the best iteration of this story. It’s heavily inspired by the Death Of A Rebel biography, and I would suggest reading that instead of watching this, as it has more context.

(Found on youtube in three separate parts, I’ve put the first two in this playlist, the third can be found here)

Writings:

Death of a Rebel by Marc Eliot (1979)

A well written book, released only a few years after Ochs’ death, so the info is relatively fresh at the time. It gives more insight than Schumacher’s biography does about some of the people in Ochs’ life, specifically his romantic partners (and by that I mean specifically Alice, with some extra mentions of Tina Date, and some vague dialogue about “Karen”)

(I read it on the internet archive)

There But For Fortune: the life of Phil Ochs by Michael Schumacher (1996)

This is a good one, which covers a lot of information, very educational. My main critique with this is that Schumacher doesn’t always seem to actually be a fan of Ochs, and especially not a fan of his music. That being said, the outlook that it presents information is to the point, while still being captivating and an all-around good read.

(I read it on the internet archive)

Phil Ochs: a Bio-Bibliography (1999)

Incredibly informative, and points out the faults from the other two books mentioned, such as the accidental title-swap between Ochs’ short stories “The Fight” and “White Milk to Red Wine,” which were both published during his schooling in the '50s. That’s how good this thing is with facts. Even still, it’s a good read, and an even better reference book with plenty of information included!

(you can read the pdf here)

The 100-page booklet from the compilation CD set— Farewells and Fantasies (released 1997), includes details from his life, pictures, lyrics, sections by people who knew him, and information about his discography

(I read it on the internet archive)

Writings by Ochs

The War Is Over, songbook, (1968)

This is specifically a wonderful zine-ish publication released by Ochs himself. It’s got articles written by him about folk, politics, etc. As well as writings by Judy Henske and Andy Wickham, photos, and artworks by Ron Cobb, as well as actual sheet music and lyrics to round out this songbook. Compared to other pieces where Ochs’ view is almost entirely speculative, this was put together by Phil Ochs, and provides a bit more insight into his ideas.

(You can buy an original copy online for $700 USD! or access it here on the Celebrating Phil Ochs website)

I’m Gonna Say It Now: The Writings Of Phil Ochs, book, (2020)

I read this recently, it’s not an essential read by any means but it’s got some interesting stuff that you may not have seen before.

(you can read the pdf here)

[rxmqnova]

Well, i was thinking about Lizzie and Yn are together and they went to an event.

Normally, Yn is a bit scared about it, her ex girlfriend wasn't the best person to be around in those situations, she wouldn't let her talk, always wanted her near her and with her mouth closed. Never being proud of her, what she was working or like introduce her to other people.

So It was the first event of Yn and Lizzie together, and even if Lizzie never was like that, she had that fear, and where Lizzie was talking with another person while yn went to have a drink for her too, when she went to Lizzie's side, Lizzie instantly introduce yn and told that she is her girlfriend, every time she met someone or even if they were a coworker, she introduced yn and was so proud of telling everyone that yn was her girlfriend.

Even if she knew before, yn was 100% sure that Lizzie was the love of her life and a gift for every she went through

The love of her life

NO ONE'S POV Y/N takes a deep breath, looking out of the window at all the people with cameras, her girlfriend looks beautiful as ever sitting next to her, holding Y/N's hand and rubbing her thumb over Y/N's knuckles.

The pair only just arrived to the Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness premier. It's their first event they've come as a pair ever. Lizzie couldn't be happier to finally have Y/N by her side when they finally went public with their relationship.

Y/N, on the other hand, has been feeling super anxious. It's just that Y/N's ex-girlfriend was also an actress and whenever Y/N went with her to any kind of event, she just felt horrible.

Y/N was not allowed to speak, not allowed to go anywhere without her ex-girlfriend. She felt like she was being showed like a stupid throphy. 'Just stand still and look pretty' Is what her ex-girlfriend always said.

"Are you okay, baby?" Lizzie asks softly, noticing her girlfriend looks a bit off.

"What? Yeah, all good" Y/N fakes a smile and Lizzie immediately knows her girlfriend's lying. But before she can say anything, Y/N speaks again. "Oh, we're here" She informs, getting out of the car and holding her hand out for Lizzie who accepts it with a sigh.

Of course first comes taking photos and Lizzie practically drags her girlfriend there. Y/N wasn't sure if she should be there as her ex-girlfriend always used to tell her to wait on the side. But Lizzie's just completely different and is proud that Y/N is her girlfriend.

Even in the interviews that come next Lizzie always includes her girlfriend somehow, asking about her opinion or mentioning her whenever she has a chance.

Y/N left for some drinks now though while Lizzie got into talking with Benedict. Handing Lizzie a drink she brought for her, Y/N's met with a huge smile on her girlfriend's face.

"There you are. Benedict, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N/N, this is Benedict" Lizzie says with a huge smile playing on her lips, interlocking her fingers with Y/N's.

"I see. Nice to meet you, Y/N" Benedict smiles. "Lizzie has told me a lot about you"

"S-she did?" Y/N questions surprised on which Lizzie gives her hand a little squeeze.

"Well, of course I did. I want everyone to know I have such an amazing girlfriend" Lizzie smiles, rubbing her thumb over her girlfriend's knuckles, making Y/N blush.

The conversation goes on and Y/N has to admit she's actually having a great time. It's a nice change to be included in the conversation and not receiving death glares for telling something.

Of course Benedict isn't the only one Lizzie wants to introduce her girlfriend to. Lizzie leads her girlfriend to her other friends and co-workers, one by one, introducing Y/N to everyone and having a quick conversation with them.

The time flies fast though and both girls get tired, so when Lizzie suggests to go home, Y/N can't say no and happily agrees.

"Did you have a good time today?" Lizzie asks softly, rubbing Y/N's knuckles with her thumbs.

"Yeah. I really enjoyed the time I could spend with you. Thank you, Lizzie" Y/N smiles warmly.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, baby. I'm glad you were there with me" Lizzie smiles back, leaning in to peck her girlfriend's lips with a kiss.

When the pair is finally back home, the first thing both girls do is taking a hot shower. And after putting on the comfiest clothes they could find, they just snuggle up together in their bed, deciding to watch a movie.

Y/N's head is comfortably resting on Lizzie's chest while Lizzie's hand is rubbing circles on Y/N's back. Every now and then Lizzie places a kiss to her girlfriend's head which never fails and makes Y/N smile widely.

"You can close your eyes, baby. I know how tired you are" Lizzie tells her girlfriend softly, noticing Y/N is struggling to keep her eyes opened to watch the movie.

"I love you so much, Lizzie" Y/N mumbles out, allowing herself to close her eyes and wonder what did she do to deserve such an amazing girlfriend.

"I love you more, Y/N/N" Lizzie says quietly, a smile playing on her lips as she keeps rubbing Y/N's back in circles.

Lizzie surely must be a gift for everything Y/N's been through. She's finally happy and it's all thanks to Lizzie.

And after this day Y/N's completely sure that Lizzie is the love of her life and that there is no one in the whole world she would rather spend the rest of her life with, even though they're dating only for a few months.

----------------------

Elizabeth Olsen masterlist

Masterlist

[digitaldiarystuff]

FRIENDS?

Hello everyone, this is my digital diary which I’ll pour what’s in my head. Hope you enjoy my writing and feel free to reach out to me!

— — — —

summary: you’ve met Jude through your close friend which put you in the same friend group but even though you’ve fancied him from the jump you’re also scared because you know how footballers can be

pairing: Y/N - Jude Bellingham

genre: angst / fluff

— — — —

“Are you done putting the decorations up?” your friend Chris asked. This was his christmas party and you were helping him add the finishing touches.

“Yeah I’m almost done. Don’t worry it’s going to be great.” you said reassuringly.

“I know but this is my first christmas in Madrid and I want everything to be perfect.” he said coming to the living room to see the final product.

You have known Chris since you were in high school, your parents knew each other and you were cordial until the end of high school when you both decided to move to a bigger city. You, for education and him to pursue his music career which has been great so far. He had put out 2 albums in 2 years and had big success.

When you were new to the city, you two bonded over the loneliness you sometimes felt and that prompted your close friendship. Even as he gained followers and became famous, he made sure you were with him. He invited you to events, referred to you as a sister in interviews.

“It’s going to be amazing!” you exclaimed as the doorbell rang. He went to open the door welcoming his friends which consisted of some influencers, producers and even one or two footballers who listened to him and invited him to games.

You hugged them as everyone was coming in and complimenting the party and you. Being one of the few people who wasn’t a celebrity, you’ve put a lot of effort into your appearance tonight. You wanted to look good.

“Hello, darling.” you heard someone say and you absolutely knew who he was. It was Jude freaking Bellingham. You’ve met Jude through Chris as well and you’ve formed a semi close friendship over the last couple months, though you couldn’t help but develop a massive crush on the guy from the day you’ve seen him. He was everything you’d wanted, handsome, nice, sassy, tall and funny but you always remained cool. Even though you sometimes felt his eyes on you for too long or his hand on the small of your back, you knew how they were and you couldn’t blame him. He’s in his prime and playing for one of the most prestigious clubs in the world, he could get anyone he wanted and you reminded yourself that a couple of times a day just to get him out of your mind.

“Hi Jude!” you said and hugged him.

“You look incredible.” he said while his nose was in your hair, the hug lasted an eternity before you decided to pull back.

“Thank you, you look great too.” you said slightly blushing. He had this kind of effect on you, he said things that wouldn’t normally make you feel things like this. He really looked amazing, though. He was wearing a black button up shirt since this was a special occasion but you knew whatever he was wearing didn’t matter he just was devastatingly handsome.

“Okay, let’s get this party started!” Chris yelled as everyone around you cheered including Jude.

It had been a couple of hours into the party and everyone was pretty wasted at this point. You were also a little dizzy but not too bad. It was going great with games and traditions and right now you were sitting on the couch between Chris and Sofie, one of your friends and playing cards when your eyes caught Jude’s. He was out by the pool and drinking alone, deep in thoughts.

You excused yourself and went over to him. He didn’t notice you until you were just in front of him.

“Don’t party this much, you might regret it tomorrow.” you said in a teasing voice.

“How can I enjoy myself if you’re far from me?” he asked in the same tone.

“I-you could’ve come to me.” you mumbled in a newly found confidence. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.

“You wanna sit?” he asked as he slides on the sunbed. You carefully sat next to him hoping you weren’t in his space much but on the contrary, Jude felt like you were too far away and gently placed his hand on your waist pulling you closer.

“This is better.” he mumbled, clearly more intoxicated than you’ve ever seen him. He was always a flirty person with you but this was next level.

“What were you thinking?” you asked suddenly remembering seeing him sitting alone silently.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” he answered but you just raised your brow.

“What? I wasn’t!” he said like a kid that’s been caught.

“I know you better than that Bellingham.” you said.

“Well, if you really know me, you tell me what I was thinking.”

“That’s not how this works!” you exclaimed laughing. He joined after hearing you.

“I was thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about me?”

“I was thinking” he trailed off. You decided to wait and not pester him.

“…about you.” he confessed and looked up to your eyes staring intensely. It’s like he was trying to read your thoughts about his confession.

“Jude” you said, sighing. You wanted to believe his words so bad but seeing every footballer you know being a player, you found it hard to believe.

“Y/N” he said in the same tone, trying to get your attention to him.

“It’s true, I was thinking of you.” he tried again.

“You’re just drunk.” you chuckled slightly trying to lift the mood. You were in denial, hoping he would just stop this before you say how you feel about him embarrassing yourself because you were too close to saying how you always think about him as well.

“I am.” he accepted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You gulped and your eyes closed for a second before you opened them again and saw him even closer than before. Your eyes shifted to his lips and he watched your every move carefully. Just as he was leaning in, one of your drunken friends yelled out to you stating she was going home before being sick. You turned to her immediately afraid that she’d realize what’s going on but she was too wasted to even see anything. You got up and went to her without even glancing at Jude embarrassed about being this afraid. It wasn’t like you haven’t thought about kissing him, it was just you knew he was drunk and didn’t want to be just someone for him to spend the night with and leave without caring.

One by one, everyone started leaving. It was just Chris, his situationship, you, 2 of his friends and Jude. The night had slowed down and you were just on the couch talking about life until Chris took his lady’s hand and took her upstairs before telling you to crash wherever you want to.

You started cleaning up before going up to the guest bedroom that was designated for you. You took a trash bag from the kitchen trying to empty plates until you felt another presence in there with you. It was Jude.

“Did they leave?” you asked, trying to make conversation. You were still pretty nervous about your moment out by the pool.

“Yeah.” he said shortly. Just as he was bringing the glasses on the counter he stumbled and nearly broke them before pulling himself together.

“You’re barely walking straight, just stop Jude.” you said laughing.

“No, I’m not!” he said offended.

“C’mon.” you said taking his hand in yours to help him balance, taking him to the guest bedroom. He drove there and there’s no way you were letting the starboy of football drunk drive on christmas.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked like a child.

“The guest bedroom, you need to sleep.”

He didn’t protest, just followed you but held your hand harder. Just then you realized how you were holding hands but didn’t want to make it awkward and pull your hand back.

You entered the room followed by Jude and sat him on the bed. He still didn’t let go of your hand. You tried pulling back but he didn’t let you.

“Jude, you need to rest.” you said smiling softly.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going downstairs to clean up a little and rest too.” you explained.

“Where?”

You actually now realized this is the only spare bedroom in Chris’ home.

“On the couch.” you said sounding more like a question.

“No you’re not.” he said making you sit down with him.

“Yes I am, we can’t fit in one bed.” you said terrified about the possibility of sleeping next to Jude. You already knew you couldn’t even relax just hold your breath the entire night.

“Are you calling me fat?” he asked, smiling.

“No, I’m calling you big.”

“I heard girls like that.” he smugly said. Of course girls liked it, especially me.

“Well, some girls do.”

“And you don’t?” he asked curiously.

“Jude, you’re wasted. Just sleep.” you said trying to change the subject.

“I’m not even tipsy Y/N. I’ve only had 2 beers.” he said like it was obvious.

“What-Well you looked drunk.” you said shocked.

“That was the only way to get you to pay attention to me. Look, you’re taking care of me.” he said motioning your intertwined hands.

“Well, that’s what friends are for.” you said looking down.

“Yeah, friends do that. But we’re not friends.” he said before leaning in and capturing your lips with his and kissing you softly.

[queenoftheimps]

So I know people are debating what, exactly, the 'something special' was for Daniel, with some theories being that Louis was going to offer to turn Daniel -- which I honestly hope is the answer!

But -- another, less fun thought occurred to me, which is: ...remember after episode 4 when there were those jokes about Louis letting Lestat have one last nice day before putting him down (twice)?

...so, uh. What if the interview itself was Daniel's 'one last nice day' before he was dinner in the dining room?

I could be wrong (BELIEVE ME, I WOULD LOVE TO BE WRONG) but I have been wondering since Season One why Louis is holding the interview now , because he doesn't actually seem to care all that much about the 'great convergence'. The answer that made the most sense to me is: Daniel has Parkinson's and he was gonna be too sick to fly to Dubai on his own soon. This was the last shot to do this with Daniel, specifically.

(Also interesting: you spent two weeks on this interview but don't actually think the book should have been published. What's that about, Louis?)

I don't think any of this even necessarily counteracts the idea that Louis likes Daniel, or even that Daniel has a possible prior connection with Armand. Louis offered to turn Daniel in Season One and he snarkily rebuffed it! I could see him thinking 'okay he's already sick -- this'll be a way to tie up loose ends for both of us, resolve our unresolved business, and give him an easy way out, and bring it all full circle from 1973'. This is Louis, after all, who insists that Armand's method of easeful death 'isn't violent'.

As for Armand -- Armand kept telling Louis he didn't want him to do the interview. That could honestly go either way, either because Armand knew (correctly) that Daniel was gonna blow up his whole setup, or possibly because he didn't like this plan to begin with. Or both! Armand has lots of layers!

But I will note...it's interesting that when Armand says "You should end it" to Louis in the first episode, Louis immediately reads that as "You should end Daniel" and not "You should end the interview and send Daniel home," which is what Armand actually meant.

IDK, I do need to stress that I am very often wrong about my theories, so I would like to be wrong about this one. But! This show also tends to rip my heart out, so who knows.

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 | P.JM 1

— pairing | femceo!oc x ceo!pjm

— summary | two rival ceos competing for years. famous for their rivalry and hatred for one another. always arguing. she hated him. he couldn’t stand her.

but why was he hard after every interaction?

— warnings | bad writing (i’m doing my best) slow burn (i’m annoying), secret relationships (oc’s bsf has the hots for jk), cruel humor (oc acts hard to get), fluff, cheating (jimin won’t give up on this girl), relationship abuse, abuse, light stalking (oc’s bsf is NOSY), alcohol, angst, lying, toxic relationships, toxic love concepts, aggression, irrational behavior, misogyny, derogatory comments (oc’s bf is a DICK),

— word count | 7.4k words

— song suggestions | confident — justin bieber

Park Jimin.

One of the greatest names in South Korea. One of the greatest names in the world actually. His face was on everything. Street signs, billboards, cars, even school lunch pails.

He was a prodigy. A genius. Although his parents were successful, he needed no help from them. He owned car dealerships, clothing brands, shoe stores, etc. Anything you could name, he owned 3 of it.

All at age 28.

No children, no spouse. All of his achievements done single-handedly.

How did he become so successful? We'll never know. He's a very a secretive man.

Although there is not much known about him, he is the definition of "the female gaze."

He is an incredibly handsome man. He trends daily for his sharp jawline, his beautifully carved lips, and his beautiful siren like eyes.

He could charm any man or woman with his looks alone. His voice was like a pied piper, seducing anyone who listened.

Park Jimin was a mystery.

༊—

Yoo Jangmi.

CEO of YooMi Beauty. The title coming from her surname and her first name.

YooMi Beauty was an incredibly  popular beauty brand ranging from makeup all the way to high toothbrushes.

YooMi Beauty had makeup, jewelry, women's clothes, men's clothes, heels, maternity wear, children's clothes, even kitchen wear.

Everyone was wearing YooMi. Custom designs from Ms. Jangmi herself. She was a self made entrepreneur who turned her small business into an empire.

She was an inspiration to many women. Being an independent woman and making a name for herself all on her own, many people looked up to her.

Unlike Park Jimin, Jangmi was very interactive with interviews and customers who supported her. She admired every bit of feedback she received and was very transparent.

It was no secret that Park Jimin was her rival, and with her coming out with a new car accessory line, she knew there would be talk.

He owned a lot of different branches similar to her, so the two were constantly competing against one another.

Tonight they were both invited to a gathering at a casino in Las Vegas hosted by one of his competitors, Yoo Kihyun.

Jangmi's brother.

Jimin wore a more business casual outfit. Since it was being hosted by Kihyun, he could care less how he really looked. No one there would peak his interest enough to really make him want to stand out.

"Nice to see you, Park. Champagne?" Kihyun offered.

"Don't mind if I do." He answered, watching the bartender pour them a drink. "Surprised you invited me. Especially after I made your sales plummet last spring." He smirked.

"Surprised you remembered." Kihyun chuckled lowly, taking a sip of his drink.

"How could I not? I'm making it a marker of my many successes." Jimin thanked the bartender, turning back to Kihyun.

"You enjoy your night, Park. Do contact me if you need anything else." Kihyun and Jimin waved their goodbyes as Kihyun went to greet other guests.

Jimin held his chin high as he drank alone. At gatherings like these, he didn't talk to many other business owners.

Not to his surprise, he was viewed as a very arrogant man. Which he was, in moderation.

He wasn't a total dick, at least he'd say so. But he definitely was a sassy man. He was a bittersweet person.

"Sitting alone like always." A low female voice was heard behind him. "Get me something with vodka and strawberries." She ordered to the bartender, taking a seat beside Jimin.

"Ms. Yoo." He turned to her. "How lovely is it to see you tonight. Alone." He mimicked her. "You order your drinks like a toddler."

Tonight she was wearing a lilac maxi dress, sparkles reflecting off the many games and neon lights around them. Her hair was long, jet black and parted to the side.

"At least I'm not drinking boring champagne. Don't you like to try new things?"

He shook his head. "Nope. You can never go wrong with champagne. You already know what to expect."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I can expect to be face deep hurling over the casino toilet."

"How ladylike." He fake smiled. "No wonder you're alone too."

"I actually chose to come alone, Mr. Park. You have no choice." She thanked the bartender as he slid her drink over to her. "Be a doll and pay for my drink?"

"As if." He scoffed. "Why should I do that?"

"Because I'll be the only woman you've bought a drink for since you've been able to purchase alcohol." She fake smiled back to him, taking a sip.

Friendly fire is what their relationship would be described as.

They could be civil with one another yes, but they had every reason to not be.

They were in constant competition. Who could sell more in a certain amount of time. Who could please their consumers more than the other.

She couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand her. Every little thing the other did, set them off.

What made it worse was they were neighbors.

Jangmi and her brother looked so alike. The evil smirk they shared ticked Jimin off.

One thing Jimin and Jangmi both agreed on, was their rivalry against Kihyun.

Kihyun and Jangmi were siblings, but he was also her competitor.

He was shady, a cheat. He used his looks to his advantage when it came to business. He lied to a lot of his consumers and he often made false promises to them.

Although there were a few instances where he was exposed for his doings, he easily paid off reporters for their silence.

He overshadowed brands that had actual good value. Honest brands. Such as YooMi and Park Enterprises.

No one with a high power dared to ever challenge Kihyun, knowing damn well he could crush them instantly. So many remain silent.

"Aren't you just peachy to be around." He fake swooned. "Go hang out with your brother. I miss the silence before you got here."

"You know damn well that's not going to happen. I'd rather sit and drink with you than talk to that idiot." She took another sip.

"Don't tell me you like me Ms. Yoo— Awe! I'm flattered." He put his hand on his heart. "You have a boyfriend, but I'd understand why you'd want me more."

"You fucking wish. You'd have to pay me to like someone like you." She shook her head. "Especially more than him."

"I don't know. That's how they all start out. Pretty soon you'll want to sleep with me when you become a married woman. That's how captivating I am." He winked at her.

Jangmi almost gagged. "Captivating or cocky? Either way I'm going to be sick."

"I think you mean lovesick." He corrected her.

"Alright enough of that." She downed her drink, placing the empty glass on the table. "Thanks for the drink. Goodnight Park." She waved before exiting the bar.

"Goodnight Ms. Yoo." He bid his goodbyes, watching her as she walked off. He looked down at his aching lower region once she was completely out of his sight. “Shit— Am I hard?”

༊—

"Finally." Jangmi threw herself on her couch.

"How was it? How was he?" Jangmi's best friend Yeri came out of the kitchen, a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.

Yeri and Jangmi had been best friends since the age of 8 years old. The two were almost like sisters. They did absolutely everything together and they knew everything about each other.

Yeri knew the code to Jangmi's penthouse, so she'd go in and out as she pleased if she didn't see her boyfriends car in the driveway. She only lived a few buildings down but according to her Jangmi's home felt "comforting"

"You ask me that every time. Just apply at his office or something." Jangmi replied, face down into the pillow.

"You know it's not that simple!" Yeri whined. "My dads money can only do so much for me." She pouted.

"Work for it." Jangmi suggested.

"I'd rather die. Hey! Do you think Kihyun might want to—"

"I'm going to stop you right there! My brother is off limits!" Jangmi shot up from her couch.

"Are you jet lagged or something?! I meant offer me a modeling gig! You didn't let me finish." Yeri rolled her eyes.

"Thank goodness. I almost died." Jangmi laid back on the couch. "I don't get why you even think he's cute. He's a cocky bastard."

"You don't see the vision Jangmi. Jimin may not have the best personality, but you've got to admit he's very handsome."

"You call him Jimin like you guys are close." Jangmi brought out her phone. "Look, I have to run to his office anyways for a pick up tomorrow. You can say you're one of my assistants and take my place."

"Are you serious?!" Yeri gasped.

She nodded.

Yeri set down the oatmeal and ran to her best friend. She gave her a huge hug, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She squeezed her.

"Don't make me regret this." Jangmi grumbled.

༊—

Lee Minhyuk, Jangmi's boyfriend of over a year.

The man was about 179cm and just a year younger than Jangmi herself. She didn't usually go for the younger ones but this one specifically caught her eye.

Their relationship was very public. Everyone knew about him.

He wouldn't shut up about her. Although he hasn't nearly as famous as she was, whenever he'd be interviewed or featured on television he'd always manage to bring her up.

Jangmi this. Jangmi that.

He was a romantic too. Surprise roses here and there, dates outside the office.

His world revolved around her, as she was what he gloated about the most.

The media adored him, waiting daily for the man to pop the question, "Will you marry me?"

He originally was one of her Kihyun's business partners, so they met through him.

She'd say it was love at first sight the way they instantly connected after some simple phrases back and fourth.

Their relationship seemed so perfect. Barely any fighting or bickering between the couple. They were on the same page about their futures and they could communicate well.

Their relationship was perfect. As in it used to be. Out of nowhere, Minhyuk turned away from her. Pretty early on too.

Fights between the two would break out often. He'd leave and disappear for days on end. Weeks even.

She couldn't pinpoint where exactly they went wrong. She was nothing but devoted to him and treated him with nothing but respect.

He was controlling. Didn't like her daily habits. Didn't like how she ate and how she dressed.

His boasting about her was usually about her physical appearance. It was appreciated but she just wished he'd bring up something that wasn't about her face or her body.

They could be just a bit more intimate, thought Jangmi. At least towards her. They had sex often but, it didn't go down in the way she'd like to.

Often when it would come to them 'getting it on' it would only end up benefiting Min-hyuk.

"I don't want to try anything new." Minhyuk would argue, leaving a frustrated Jangmi to finish herself off later when she was left alone.

Eventually she stopped fighting it, seeing that she wasn't going to win anyway after time and time again of her trying to explain.

Maybe it's just an obstacle they'd have to overcome in the future, all couples have something they need to work on.

For Min-hyuk, the main obstacle in their relationship was her not wanting to settle down.

She didn't want to be married just yet. The girl loved to party, loved to travel. She was a drinker and she loved to explore and feel free.

She loved looking pretty. Dressing up. One of the main reasons she started her business.

Daily she'd wear makeup and "girly" outfits. She was a very feminine woman who couldn't stand looking overly simple.

Here and there she'd like to expose skin. Nothing drastic but she loved to feel comfortable in her body. She went to the gym daily. She didn't work hard just to not show it off.

Her looks weren't for anyone's gaze. Just for her and her only.

Minhyuk wanted to domesticate her already. Make her the perfect housewife and give birth to their many children. Combine their companies.

He didn't like that she loved to party. He hated that all she wanted to do was try new things and travel.

Do not get him started on her outfits. How could such a woman show off so much?

He didn't understand any of it. He loved her but at some point shouldn't she stop?

"Don't you think you're getting a bit old to be wearing outfits like that?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe

Jangmi wore a simple floral pattern dress. It was long sleeved and flowy at the bottom.

She never wore flats but today she decided to. She dressed so plain today. For once she didn't dress for herself but she dressed for him today. Her outfit was the exact opposite of what she usually wore.

It was one of of the most modest outfits she owned.

"Considering I'm still in my twenties I don't think so at all." She laughed.

"Late twenties might I add." He folded his arms. "Shouldn't you be thinking about your future just a bit more?"

"Uh I think about my future every damn day. You forget I run an entire empire." She scoffed.

"I'm just trying to help you out Jangmi. Nows the age to start thinking just a bit more about the future of us. I want kids. A marriage." He held onto her waist.

"I don't understand why my outfit is stopping us from achieving that." Jangmi tilted her head.

"Just forget it." Minhyuk sighed, a sad expression settling on his face.

"Wait— I'll change." Jangmi exhaled.

She just wanted the best for the two. Minhyuk was all she knew, so she couldn't just give up on him.

Minhyuk's pout turned into a smile instantly. "Thanks Jangmi! I love you."

"I love you too." She smiled, heading back up the stairs.

༊—

"Breathe Yeri. Breathe." Yeri calmed herself down before entering the elevator of Park Enterprises.

She was really there in the building. After using Jangmi as an excuse to see Park Jimin up close and in person, she was finally able to do it.

The smoking hot man she had seen on so many billboards and TV screens she was finally going to see in person.

She was filthy rich and her dad could get her to meet anyone she wanted but for some reason, Jimin wasn't within reach.

He was a busy man who was always traveling. And unlike an idol, he couldn't just do meet and greets.

I guess you could say she was a bit of a fan girl.

The elevators made a "ding" noise as soon as she reached the top floor.

"Okay. You just put them on the desk and leave. Easy." She reminded herself as the elevator doors opened.

Before her plans could be fulfilled, she slammed right into someone.

"Ow!" She winced as she immediately dropped to the floor.

"Oh my goodness— Are you okay?!" The man immediately stooped down and helped her up from the ground.

"Y-Yeah." She struggled to get back on her feet.

"I'm so sorry!" He bowed to her before the two made eye contact.

Damn.

'Who is he?' Yeri thought.

Little did she know he was thinking that same thing.

The two simply stared at each other for a few seconds.

She felt as if she was in some kind of drama. When she looked at him it was like cherry blossoms and lovey dovey music played in the background.

Forget Jimin. She needed this one.

"Are you here to see Mr. Park?" He asked her as he pressed on the elevator button.

She nodded.

"He's not in his office at the moment but I can take those. You're from YooMi. Correct?" He asked her as he took the files from her hand.

She nodded once more.

Damnit, why can't you speak? Yeri thought to herself. No way she was this pathetic in front of him.

"I'm sorry if I've frightened you. I'm Mr. Park's secretary." He bowed to her, her bowing back. "And you are?"

"Ah— I'm Ms. Yoo's assistant."

"You must be new. I know all of Ms. Yoo's assistants." He adjusted his glasses.

"I'm still in training unfortunately. She's just having me run some errands." She explained before the elevator came to a stop.

"I wish you luck. I know she's a pretty tough woman. But this is my stop. Sorry again." He waved goodby before getting off the elevator.

"I need him." She mumbled to herself after waving goodbye to Mr. Park's assistant.

༊—

"Jangmi, please."

"For the last time. Hell no! What are you even on about?! You didn't want a job period now all of a sudden you want to work for me? You're out of your mind." Jangmi walked past the pleading girl.

"I'm so desperate here Jangmi. Can't you find it in your heart to—"

"No." She shook her head. "Not until you explain to me what the hell you're doing this for."

Yeri had spent the last few hours researching Jimin's secretary.

There were images and videos but there were no names. Nothing to work with at all.

She needed to see him again. He introduced himself as Jimin's secretary but didn't even give her his work name. Did he not want to tell her? Was he secretive? What kind of person wouldn't even say their own name?

She figured since Jangmi and Jimin hated each other, she had to know.

"What's his name? Jimin's secretary." Yeri asked.

"Ohhh. That's what this is for." Jangmi smirked. "Finally seen Secretary Sexy up close."

"Don't ever call him that again." Yeri gagged. "That was hard to even hear."

"Whatever. It could be worse, I could like Mr. Park's secretary."

"You don't get it! Jangmi you just had to be there. He was so tall. His shoulders— Oh don't get me started. And he's polite! When we locked eyes it's like..." She trailed off. "Love at first sight!"

Jangmi simply stared at the girl for a moment. Then burst out laughing. "Whew Yeri!" She threw herself on the couch. "You can not be serious!"

"It's not funny!" Yeri began to throw a fit, stomping her feet. "It's like the whole world literally stopped for us! Music started playing and the colors in the elevator became so vibrant like in the movies!"

"The elevator is literally silver and brown!" Jangmi laughed. "Girl he's cute but not that cute!"

"You're childish." She mumbled. "You're just jealous because you're in a generic relationship. You're not in a drama like me okay!"

"And what am I supposed to be in if you're a drama?"

"Those really boring slow silent historical films that only old people watch!" Yeri immaturely pointed at her.

"Well that was just rude. But I guess that's what love at first sight does to you." Jangmi giggled, causing Yeri to huff. "Okay okay that was the last one!"

"Just tell me his name. Oh my gosh- Do you have his number?!" She jumped on the couch.

"How close do you think I am to Mr. Park?!" She exclaimed.

"I have an idea!" Yeri shot up onto her feet.

"Let's hear it." She sighed.

"Buy him."

Jangmi rose an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Yeri smirked. "There must be a reason Park Enterprises runs so well. The secretary. We buy the secretary we buy all of his secrets. Poor guy was overworked. I don't even think he has his own office. Let's march down there and let's buy his secretary!"

"That's..." Jangmi exhaled. "The stupidest idea I've ever heard of. And you just talked about love at first sight. You're an actual idiot."

Yeri whined. "Come on! It's a good idea. Don't you want to know his secrets?"

"As much as I do not like Mr. Park, you're not thinking about this logically. His secretary is bound by his contact. Equally meaning he can not say a damn thing about the Park name. We have no idea what kind of contract he even signed." She took her hair out of her ponytail.

"And to be honest. I don't care about that secretary enough to hire him. I'm not wasting my precious time on some crush that may be loyal to his company." Jangmi shook her head.

"So that's it? Me and him are through?" Yeri dramatically stuffed her face in the pillow. "I thought money could fix everything!"

"You should know very well by now it does not. At all." Jangmi rolled her eyes. Hearing how distraught her best friend was, she caved in.

"His name is Jeon Jungkook. Do you want to go drink and get BBQ?" She asked her.

༊—

"She's perfect isn't she? Beautiful face and a beautiful body. What more could a man want?" Minhyuk boasted in front of the press, arm wrapped around Jangmi's waist.

Tonight they were attending a fashion show in Seoul. The main models were wearing various designs by YooMi and Jangmi couldn't be more proud.

She hand picked the models herself years ago and now with their experience, they'll be walking their first runway.

YooMi wasn't the only brand making an appearance that night.

Park Jimin was only a few feet beside them, waving to the press.

Surprisingly he wasn't alone, but not in the way you'd think.

Secretary Jeon was beside him, answering some questions for Jimin.

It was a bit surprising considering he never really spoke up, so they got a bit more attention than usual.

She paid no attention to them, focusing on the interview in front of her.

"I'm sure he loves my persona too." Jangmi added on, laughing.

Once the interview was wrapped up, Jangmi and Minhyuk made their way to their seats after going through security.

Jangmi happily checked out the area, the room being set up perfectly as she envisioned it.

"This is going to be so good!" The girl rubbed her hands together in excitement.

"Yeah." Minhyuk mumbled, feeling unsteady.

Truth be told the guy didn't want to be here at all. If it was up to him he'd be at home with a cold beer and a porn website.

The show started once everyone took their seats, and Jangmi didn't take her eyes off the runway.

༊—

"Oh my gosh!" Jangmi clapped loudly. "Beautiful! That was so amazing! My girls and boys did so amazing! I'm so proud."

"Yup." Minhyuk looked around. "Do you think the open bar is still available?"

"What's your problem?" She questioned him.

He'd been aching to go since the interview. What could've possibly made him this uneasy?

"You can tell me Minhyuk."

"Earlier. Why did you have to say that?" Minhyuk turned to her.

She looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure he loves my persona too" He mimicked her. "Don't you think that kind of makes me sound like a dick? You should've been more considerate."

"Well I mean all you've done is talk about my looks all night. It was just a harmless joke so relax." She fanned herself.

"I don't need your shit right before a show." He crossed his arms, anger slightly rising.

"You act like it's your brand who's modeling. We came here for me." She scoffed.

"Whatever. It was a shit show anyway. The clothing you submitted wasn't good for shit." He muttered out, clearly ticked off.

"Are you fucking serious? You're acting like a fucking child. If you want to be a dick right now then just fucking go. I have a ride home anyway." She rose her voice.

"Fine. Didn't want to be here anyway." He stood up from his seat and stomped off childishly.

Jangmi breathed out, fanning herself some more.

She needed to calm her nerves before anxiety rose or this wasn't going to end well.

"What's wrong with Captain Hothead?"

"Not now Park. I can not deal with you right now." Jimin eyed her. Analyzing her body language and emotional state.

He didn't see the entire situation go down, but he seen enough to where he could make a good assumption.

She looked stressed from their previous outburst at her boyfriend. Uneasy.

But damn did she look good.

Jangmi had on a steel blue suit with a corset top underneath, revealing some of her cleavage and her stomach piercing which matched the rest of the jewelry she had.

She paired the outfit with diamond jewelry and 4 inch platform heels.

Jimin couldn't help himself but to take a good look at her. Sure she was his rival. But it couldn't hurt to just take a peek.

"You clean up nice." He eyed her once more. "And so did your models. Not bad Ms. Yoo."

"Thank you Mr. Park." She stood up from her chair. "Did you come here to make fun of me because I caused a scene?"

"It's not a scene if no one cares." He smiled. "The world doesn't revolve around you Yoo."

"Whatever." Jangmi was about to push past him but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Let me take you home." He said suddenly, making her look up at him.

Oddly, Jimin couldn't help himself but sympathize for her. He knew well she didn't like to look vulnerable in front of him, but he wanted to stand before her with open arms.

"What?"

"You said you had a ride. I know for a fact he took the car you both came in. Let me drive you home, neighbor." He reached his hand out to her.

Honestly, she didn't have any other choice. She didn't like the guy but she knew for sure Yeri would be knocked out sleep and there's no one she could depend on to take her home.

Jimin lived right next door, so he's all she got. But why was he being so friendly to her?

"Alright."

༊—

Silent.

It was silent in the car. Who knew they'd be so awkward around each other.

There was small talk between the two in the beginning but it ended up dying down a lot sooner than they both anticipated.

She already thanked him many times for his offer, so not much could be said about that. Jimin didn't mind hearing the praise but she definitely could've said much more.

"You don't seem to shut up any other time. Why the silence now?"

She looked up from playing with her fingers. "I'd figure I'd be nice to you considering I would be stuck at the show without you."

"Always knew you'd need me one day." He chuckled.

"Arrogant."

"What was that?"

"You're arrogant." She repeated.

"You don't like that? All the ladies do."

She scoffed. "I'm not apart of of all the ladies then. And I have a boyfriend so you don't phase me."

"Some boyfriend you have. He's a bit of a boy don't you think? Kind of toddler-like." He raised his eyebrows as he pulled into the gated community they lived in.

"You don't know him. He just had a bad night that's all. It was my fault." She shifted in her seat. "It doesn't matter anyway it's none of your concern."

He chuckled as he pulled into his driveway, turning off the car. "Yeah you're right."

She unbuckled herself and picked up her purse from the floor of the car. "Anyway, thank you Mr. Park for taking me home."

"Anytime." He unbuckled himself.

The two waved their goodbyes and Jimin watched her enter her home safely.

He locked his car and entered in the code to his home before entering.

"It is my concern Ms. Yoo."

༊—

"I'm coming!" Jangmi raced down the staircase, making her way to the front door.

The girl had her pajamas on paired with her froggy slippers. She finished her hair and makeup already for the day 'just because' since she'd be staying home.

Yeri was asleep upstairs, and Jangmi knew damn well Minhyuk wouldn't talk to her first.

So who'd be ringing her doorbell so early in the morning?

Jangmi opened her front door, seeing the very last person she thought would be ringing her doorbell.

"Hey neighbor." The charming man leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Uh hey." Jangmi stared at him, taken back. "Didn't think I'd see you this morning."

One thing about Jangmi, she always avoided eye contact with Jimin.

For him being dressed so casually, he didn't look bad at all.

Why am I checking him out? Shit. Jangmi wondered to herself.

Something about those siren eyes always threw her off. They made her feel distracted.

Was she seriously checking out the guy she couldn't stand in the least? When she had a boyfriend at that?

"I just wanted to check up on you after yesterday." He parted his lips, licking them.

"Like I said, it's none of your concern." She snapped out of his trance. "Why does it matter?"

Why was he still on about it?

"You're right. Can't help but stay curious I guess." He chuckled before his face turned serious. "Eat at my place for breakfast, Ms. Yoo."

Jangmi practically choked on air. "What? Don't you think that's kind of inappropriate?"

"I don't think it is at all. Two CEOs just grabbing a bite to eat." Jimin stuck his hands in his pockets. "Boyfriend won't let you out or what?"

Jangmi huffed. She'd be damned to have anyone think Minhyuk had some sort of power that determined what she'd be doing with her free time.

She was starving, and she knew well Yeri would not be awake in time for the local breakfast diner to be open by the time she woke up.

"Fine, let's go eat. Give me time to get ready."

"You look fine now. We're both in our pajamas and it's not like we're going out somewhere nice. Just my dining room." He smiled.

"Okay." She stepped out of her doorway, walking beside Jimin as they walked over to his home.

[lucy90712]

Can you write a story about verstappen sister who also races at Red Bull and is dating joao

"Max do I have to go no one ever notices me there anyway" I whined 

"Yes you do you're part of the main team now if you don't go you and I will get in trouble" max said 

"Fine but don't expect me to enjoy any of it" I said 

"If it makes you feel any better it's not just the usual people it's all red bull sponsored athletes from across Europe that could make it so there will be new people there" Max said 

"Great more people to ignore me while I stand next to you" I said

"Just go and get ready if you don't have a good time we can go and get ice cream after" Max offered 

"You should've led with that let's do this" I laughed 

I went and got myself ready which wasn't too difficult because a brand had already sent me a dress to wear to this event as there will be lots of media there taking pictures. Apart from the dress I had to do my hair and makeup but that wasn't too difficult as I've got quite good at one look which I use every time I have to go to a fancy event. It took me around 20 minutes to get ready which is just in time for the car taking me and Max to the event to arrive. The driver spent the entire time talking to Max and completely ignoring me like everyone does at these events. It used to annoy me but now I've just got used to it, in fact I quite enjoy being free to walk around without anyone caring who I am. Some people recognise me as Max's sister and strike up a conversation for a few minutes but it's only ever about him and not my own racing career. 

We arrived and the driver opened the door for Max while I had to open my own door which is just typical. I was told I'd have to do a few interviews as I entered the event but everyone wanted to talk to Max instead so I just walked straight in and went to a quiet corner where I can sit by myself until Max tells me we can finally leave. There was a lot of people here most of which I didn't recognise but a few I did, there was some MotoGP riders who I've spoken to before and some footballers who I've never talked to as I have a feeling they wouldn't care enough to talk to me. 

Everyone talked to each other while I just watched from a table in the furthest corner. Max did come over for a minute and say hi but he was quickly dragged into a conversation with someone else and left me alone again. That was until I noticed someone walking towards me I recognised him slightly but I couldn't place from where. He came over and introduced himself as Joao Felix which is when I worked out where I knew him. He's a football player for Barcelona and I recognised him because Max has made me watch a few games with him. 

We spent pretty much the rest of the event talking we both talked about our struggles but also just life in general. It was so nice to have someone to talk to for the night and he was so lovely he didn't treat me differently because I was a women or because I was Max's sister he just seemed to want to get to know me. No one bothered us for the rest of the night until the event was coming to an end and Max came over to see if I wanted to get a taxi back with him. Joao offered to drive me home so I took him up on his offer as I wanted to spend more time with him. He dropped me home and we exchanged phone numbers with the promise that we would see each other again. 

~~~~~~~~~~

8 months later 

Since that red bull event things have changed a lot, that week Joao asked me on a date and within a month of knowing each other we were dating. We have now been together for 7 months and we've told a few friends but I haven't told Max. Max is very overprotective as I'm his younger sister and he doesn't want anyone to hurt me which is why he has told me never to date another athlete as he says it will only end badly. That's one of the reasons I'm scared to tell him about me and Joao another reason is that he likes to watch Barcelona play and he likes Joao as a player and I don't want him to be mad that I'm dating a player he likes. Joao has been very understanding of my apprehension over telling Max about us in fact I think he's a bit scared about his reaction too but not telling Max does mean we have to sneak around which is getting increasingly harder. 

So far this season Joao hasn't been able to make any of the races as we have been all over the world but finally we are back in Europe and Joao is coming to watch the race. He arrived late Friday and I snuck him into my hotel room so we could spend the night together. He watched all of the track action from yesterday from the back of the red bull garage which luckily no one thought anything of seeing as he's sponsored by red bull too. Any time we had a few seconds alone he had his arms around my waist and his lips on mine but we had to be super careful to hide from the media as well as Max. Last night we had dinner in my hotel room and watched a movie together, which has become our version of a date night as we are always trying to avoid going out so we aren't seen together but it was fun I loved having him there with me as I've missed him a lot over the last few months. 

Today is race day so I had to get up really early to get to the track so I left Joao asleep but I left him a note and text him to tell him to let me know when he gets to the track. Usually I'm a bit nervous on race day as it's always the climax of the weekend but this week I'm extra nervous as today is my first time starting on pole position. I know the team expect me to win and I didn't want to let them down but I'm just not as good as Max and he's starting next to me in second, I know at some point he's going to overtake me and he won't take any mercy on me that's for sure. One thing Max has done is teach me how to deal with nerves but today none of the techniques he gave me seem to be working my heart rate is still higher than it usually is and my hands are shaking like crazy. 

I've been so distracted preparing for the race and trying to calm myself down I didn't look at my phone at all and completely forgot that I left Joao at the hotel that was until we was stood in front of me in my drivers room. He looked worried which only made me feel worse as I must've scared him when I didn't answer his texts or calls. He came and sat next to me pulling me into his lap which instantly made me relax a little bit. 

"Are you ok my love?" He asked 

"I'm just a bit nervous I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone I've been completely in my own world" I apologised 

"You don't need to be sorry I'm just glad I'm with you now because I can tell you are more than a bit nervous" he said 

"Ok I'm really nervous the team expect me to win but I don't think I can beat Max he's just too good and he knows all my weaknesses" I said 

"You've got to believe in yourself I know you can do this and so do the team they expect you to win because they know you can you know you share some of Max's DNA so you can go out there and perform just as well as he does it's in your blood" Joao reassured me 

"You really think so" I questioned 

"Of course I do I've watched you race this season and in the other categories you are great you just need to believe you can do it" he said 

"You're right I just need to believe in myself" I said 

"That's it now get yourself ready and psyche yourself up you got this" he said 

Joao stayed with me for as long as he could but I had to go to the grid before I knew it so I left him with a kiss before running off to get in my car. Getting my car to the grid I looked around the track thinking about where I need to be quicker and where I might have to defend more but it all seemed possible. If you'd have asked me earlier I would've told you there's no way I could win but now I think I can do it I've been quick all weekend quicker than Max so why should I resign myself to second behind him. 

The race was quite stressful it wasn't one of the most exciting races but I was stressed. I was so focused on getting a good start then staying out in front which wasn't easy as Max kept trying but I held on. Pit stops were also stressful as it had to go perfectly to give me the best chance of winning and sometimes my crew make some mistakes but today they were amazing and we had the best stops we've had all year. At one point Max did get in front of me for a while but I kept within drs range of him and eventually his tyres started to wear and I was able to get back in front. Once I was in front Max dropped back and then it was just about managing until the end which I did until I crossed the line for the final time. 

All of the emotions finally hit me as I saw the checkered flag I did it I finally won my first race. I proved to myself and others that I'm a good driver who is capable of competing with Max. My engineer was congratulating me over the radio but I couldn't get any words out to say back as I was just so overwhelmed with emotions. Driven the car into parc ferme and getting to celebrate with the team was so fun and Max was right there to congratulate me too but the one person I really wanted to see wasn't there but I knew he is waiting for me back in the garage. 

As I won I had a lot more interviews to do but eventually I made it back to my drivers room where I only got to sit down for about 2 seconds before Joao came in with a big smile on his face. I got up and hugged him tightly while he leant down to give me a kiss. We shared a few more kissed until I saw the door to my drivers room open widely and someone shout. I recognised the voice straight away and knew I was in big trouble. 

“What the fuck” Max yelled 

“I can explain Max” I started to say 

“No why are you kissing some footballer in your drivers room I thought I warned you about dating other athletes” Max scolded me 

“He’s not just some footballer you know that you said you liked him plus we aren’t just kissing he’s my boyfriend” I yelled back 

“That’s worse what are you thinking” Max raged 

“If I can just step in here hi Max I’m Joao I know this is a bit of a surprise and I’m sure we all wished it didn’t happen this way but it’s too late now y/n and I have been together for about 7 months now and I can promise you that I really like her and the last thing I want is to hurt her” Joao interjected 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Max asked calming down a bit

“Because I was scared about how you’d react I know what you’ve told me and believe me it’s stuck with me but I really do like Joao maybe even love him and I can’t ignore that just to protect myself” I said 

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have yelled and I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me I know the advice I’ve given you but as long as you are happy that’s all they really matters but Joao if you even so much as make her cry know that I won’t hesitate to let you know how you’ve made her feel” Max said 

“I get it but I won’t be doing that” Joao replied 

“Maybe later tonight we can all go to dinner to celebrate y/n’s win and get to know each other” Max suggested 

“That sounds great we’ll be there” I said 

With that Max left us alone again and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. As much as that was tense for a while it felt good to finally tell Max about my relationship and to know he’s willing to get to know Joao makes me even happier. 

“So you think you love me eh” Joao laughed 

“I don’t just think I know but couldn’t say that in front of Max” I said 

“Well I love you too my winner” he said 

[demonslayedher]

A post about the lead actor's feelings on the Kimetsu no Yaiba Noh/Kyogen stage adaptation:

To try to increase my karma for getting KnY Noh tickets, I went to a Noh performance and interview with Ohtsuki Yuichi, the actor who performs the roles of both Tanjiro and Nezuko. He was also one of the people responsible for seeing the potential for performing KnY as Noh. As he described in the interview, both KnY and Noh are trying to express the same things.

This was brought up in the later half of the on-stage interview. To give more background, the society surrounding Noh theater knows its roots, and is pretty dedicated in preserving traditions, like family lines dedicated to playing a certain kind of role in a certain school of how to stage the plays. Yuichi grew up surrounded by Noh, and although he was born into a different Noh performing family, he became the apprentice of Ohtsuki Bunzo (a living national treasure), hence why Yuichi has taken up the Ohtsuki legacy. Bunzo is a very influential figure and has dedicated a lot of work to revitalizing plays nearly lost to time, and he's a tough act to follow.

So when the topic of "new Noh" came up in the interview, Yuichi's very calm and experienced interview demeanor started to seem, at least to me, a little more hesitant. The lady interviewing him, a veteran reporter in the world of traditional performing arts, did not seem intimately familiar with Kimetsu no Yaiba. The vast majority of the audience was much older than Yuichi, and many of them were dressed in kimono. (I stuck out in that crowd as the only obviously foreign face.)

Yuichi explained what he usually explains about KnY and Noh, especially the themes with demons and building sympathy for them. The surface level similarities, like a mountain of spider demons, did not matter as much in seeing the potential for adaptation.

Unlike the audiences at the stagings of plays from the usual Noh repertoire, the vast majority of audience members at the KnY performances had never seen Noh before. They went to see a Noh performance because they were KnY fans, not because they had any previous interest in Noh. With a bit of a laugh in his voice, Yuichi (who had just been talking about the heavy sense of audience anticipation right before some famous plays begin) said nothing could compare to the tenseness before those performances, because nobody in the audience even knew what to expect. Still, he finds it gratifying how it has brought so many more people into the world of Noh, especially young people.

The discussion of this "new Noh" wrapped up very nicely with a reminder that five centuries ago the tales of Heike and Genji were super popular and drew crowds, so maybe someday "Kimetsu no Yaiba" will be considered a classic piece of Noh canon.

Before that, though, there was a part when Yuichi sped up little by little as he got more animated recalling a little anecdote.

You see, he explained go the interviewer, the world of KnY is actually very complex. There are, like, whole encyclopedias (the fanbooks) with information about the characters, like their birthdays, their hobbies, favorite foods, etc.

He then goes on to say how they did a week of performances in Tokyo last December (frustratingly, I did not manage to get a ticket). One of those performances happened to fall on December 28, which is Kamado Nezuko's birthday.

The whole audience--everywhere--there were so many Nezukos. Nezukos everywhere. People cosplay and come to watch Noh. Everyone was cosplaying Nezuko that day, because the fans know these things. There were so many Nezukos.

He did not make his point that eloquently, but he sure made his point. I don't know if he was a truly shook by anime fandom since he's always been deep in Noh fandom instead or if he was nervous about what the core fans of traditional Noh thought about it, or maybe that was just his excitement for KnY and that project coming through.

I, in any case, am still super excited to hopefully, hopefully, hopefully see the continuation. Aside from seeing Yuichi reprise his roles, Bunzo is playing Gyutaro and I really, really want to see that mask.

Come on, karma...

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

@donanimee I decided to make a post as it's a little easier to answer if I don't have the comment section's word/character count limiting me.

So for the first question, Rosa and Neige are the same age. In Twisted Wonderland's Book 5, both would be 17 going on 18. The story I am writing for Rosa and Vil is set 10 years after the plot of Twisted Wonderland's main story. Vil is 28, Rosa and Neige are 27. In that time skip, Neige found his "princess", the Twisted Wonderland version of Snow White's Prince Florian, who is a prominent singer in Twisted Wonderland, and has gotten engaged to her. His fiancée knows Rosa is his cousin, but she understands Rosa wants to work on her own merit.

How did Neige feel when Rosa was fired? He didn't know. He doesn't know for a long time. His manager tells him that Rosa quit on her own. By the time Rosa learns the story Neige was fed, she is already working under Vil and because Neige has a lot going on (jobs, wedding planning, interviews, finding time to spend with his fiancée), Rosa chooses not to add to his stress and just tell him later when things die down. Vil is actually the one who ends up telling Neige what happened during a job they work together on. As a result, Neige gets very icy with his manager and the manager gets very close to losing his job. It's only because he's been working with Neige for so long that he manages to keep his job by the skin of his teeth. Even so, things are not the same between them because Neige is now aware his manager was willing to lie to him.

So, after working for Vil for a while, what are Vil's and the other students thoughts and feelings about Rosa? With the other NRC students, not many of them know her...

However, the one student who does know about her before she even worked for Vil? Rook. Rosa has been part of Neige's team for a loooooong time, so Rook immediately knows Neige's makeup artist changed, just due to the minute differences in the application. That's how Vil knew something was up as Rook made a comment to him. When he finally gets to meet her after Vil hires her, Rook is excited at the prospect. He does give her the nickname Mademoiselle Rose-Sauvage (Miss Wild Rose) because he notes how Rosa is a very resilient worker, even in tough circumstances.

As for Vil, while she's working for him, he appreciates the fact she's very focused on her work and willing to be honest with him. By the time he hires her, Vil has a cosmetics business, which is what he hired Rosa for. Rosa doesn't realize at first that's why he's offering to hire her and makes a comment when he offers her a job that she knows he does not need her skills like Neige did, as he's very adept at applying his own makeup. Vil also appreciates her frankness and willingness to state her opinion because it's what causes him to fall for her later on. Because Rosa is the first person to tell him that he is more beautiful than Neige in a non-confession type way.

That said, one of the things about Rosa that Vil does struggle with is Rosa's kindness to people he feels do not deserve it. It's very prominently on display when he ends up meeting Berne, Rosa's ex, who did damage Rosa's confidence pretty hard. He's very annoyed that Rosa is being nice to Berne, despite what Berne put her through.

[hulknussen]

So I've been thinking about something for a while. It's not revolutionary, but I'm dying to talk about it, and you seem to be okay discussing these things.

I recently read Kevin's book (the best biography I've ever read) and one thing that really hit me was how much empathy Kevin has for people around him. He seems very emotional intelligent. I knew he was very reflected and thoughtful from his interviews and so on, but I was still blown away by how much grace and acceptance he extends to everyone.

When people discuss his book they often talk about his relationship with his father Jan, and how he both understands and looks up to his dad for following his dream. But at the same time talks about some of the struggles he had growing up with a single teen mom, with no money (like him eating a whole block of cheese as a teen got him grounded, coz it was too expensive to just eat as a snack), and then his dad would show up in a Ferrari, making her feel very inadequate and he still feels how unfair that was to her. The descriptions are very balanced and I feel like he really tries to understand and see it from all sides. It did change some of my perspectives on Jan though.

Him talking about the Hulk incident is also interesting, coz he is mostly confused over why Nico took it so personally. He has talked about the incident at length multiple times so it doesn't really take much space in the book. But he does admit that the racing move was dirty. For him the whole thing was blown out of proportions afterwards and the got tired of talking about it. He saw people make t-shirt and banners with it, that he thinks was to tease Nico, and he just thinks it got to be too much. Which makes me wonder if seeing his words used by others to hurt Nico has something to do with why he got sick of it, or if he just got annoyed that the words shaped a narrative about him that he didn't like. He has an interesting analogy where he compares racing to boxing, saying: when you are in the ring you try to win and might break each others noses, but afterwards it's over and you can hug and be good. That's how he sees racing and he doesn't think Nico is the only one taking things too personal in the paddock.

I've seen Kevin be presented in different ways in the media, but it's usually as this tough guy that doesn't take any bullshit. And while that might be true, I also feel like his more gentle and generous side is often neglected or ignored by the press. Maybe it's the format of the interviews, language barrier or something, because listening to the radios he is very quick to forgive mistakes and even calm his engineer down. In the book he gets to convey a lot of more complex emotions and it makes me believe that he understands a lot more of the emotional needs and wants of the people around him than people might think.

I'm sorry this got so long.

don't apologize this was very interesting. I wish there was an English translation so we wouldn't have to rely on twitter thread translations or blurbs like this. definitely agree that kevin being emotionally intelligent and aware isn't news, but I can also appreciate the extra insight like you said. and I think I've seen multiple people talk about it before but his experiences growing up definitely seem to be reflected in how much of a family man he is.

that said I never thought about the hulk incident like you put it here. to me it was just something that annoyed him, yeah, but from a shipper's perspective I of course like the proposition that he might have also disliked it because Nico did seem genuinely upset about it and his words were used to continue rubbing it in. don't get me wrong he isn't gonna go cry about it--more of a "damn we dont gotta be like this why are you guys putting a wedge I dont even want here between us" (also fits nicely with him saying he always respected nico). food for thought, at least. or then again, this also fits with painting him in a light he doesnt want to be painted in. I lost my point I think, so all of that is to say I agree with your points, and appreciate that you unearthed them for us non danish speakers.

I think the media going so heavy on the tough guy persona was really influenced by DTS. not to sound like one of those people who blames that series for everything wrong with the sport (I have my opinions on the show for sure, but all the "u must be a DTS fan" shit is just as annoying) but all the fok smash my door memes came from there, and they were easily marketable drama. he was also just by nature of being a haas driver connected to gunther who loveed the publicity. reading articles from earlier (Im thinking of one from 2015 right now I believe it was) he was presented as more level headed. sure, not perfect, but more balanced to just a reckless angry short guy which let's be real is what he is to a lot of people. as always I am a fan of smushing it both together, let him punch a bit, let him give soft kisses a bit :) some nuance, that sort of thing.

wow, look at that, my response got almost as long as your ask. suppose that fits.