#i love this song so much and it's incredible to see the audience

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

On today's episode of videos that make me cry, I offer you this 💖

[chansaw]

i read donald sutherland’s letter to gary ross pleading for the role of president snow and was so struck by his eloquence, wit, and humor. i’m posting it in full below. what a loss </3

Dear Gary Ross:

Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power?

Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned.

Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand.

Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then.

I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power.

How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc.

Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss.

Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew.

Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for.

The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering.

I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you.

They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!

sourced from this article

[totalswag]

can you do something with singer!reader having a christmas special like sabrina and when she talks about her boyfriend it’s drew that comes out dressed as santa and everyone realizes immediately.

oh my santa drew ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note if you havent watched the nonsense christmas on Netflix you should hehe. thank you for the request lovie! its a great request since christmas is right around the corner. writing this was so much fun and adding my own little bits in there. there's a couple lines from the actual skit too.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

summary drew coming in as a surprised guest on a nonsense christmas.

warning(s) none just funny humor and drew dressed as santa

A Nonsense Christmas. 

This thought occurred to me one day at the beginning of this year. Christmas is your favorite time to celebrate, it was ideal. You've had incredible artists join you to perform songs and special guests for comedy skits—Tyla, Kali Uchis, Chappell Roan, and so many other talented guests.

It's been an absolute blast filming everything. The whole vibe of this small series is unbelievably funny and gets you in the holiday spirit.

Drew, your boyfriend, dresses up as Santa Claus in this skit. You wanted him to participate in this experience with you. He insisted on being Santa after you told him the final idea. No one knows about it except for the people working on set. Fans and the audience will be surprised.

The past few weeks Drew’s been walking around the house acting like Santa and going into character with his lines—No joke.

It starts off with you sitting on the single chair in front of your two friends, Alice and Max, talking about your boyfriend they haven't met. The living room set is decked Christmas out with a tree decorated behind you along with everything magical. 

"I can't wait to finally meet your man, Debbie, you haven't been hanging out with us since getting into a relationship," Alice asks, giggling at the end of her sentence. 

You quickly chuckle sarcastically, and Max joins in.

"No, I understand. Because we are doing long distance, it's been difficult to mix friend groups," you explain, making a combing hand motion. "You get what I'm saying?" you ask, leaning in slightly, squinting your eyes.

"Girl, I completely understand," Max shrugs his shoulders, offering you a nice nod of understatement, “I promise we will love him” he smiles.

Your face softens, "Aw, thank you both. I promise you, he will not disappoint," you wink playfully. 

Just wait till they see who walks through that door.

Your voice appears promising to them at that point. 

Your phone rings out of nowhere, and you pick it up; a mysterious boyfriend is ready to make his official entrance. "Oh, speak of the devil, he's walking up now," you shriek with delight as you get up from your seat and dance over to the front door—your famous tippy toe dance

Drew walks through the door dressed head-to-toe in a Santa Claus outfit, strode in with a jolly demeanor. His red suit, black boots, and fluffy white beard were undeniably festive.

Max and Alice exchanged puzzled looks, their jaws almost touching the floor. "Uh, is this…?" Alice inquired, her eyes wide in shock.

Debbie please be so for real...

"Is that Santa in front of me, or am I seeing things?" Before taking a close look, Max emphasizes the word "that." He squints his eyes and then turns to face Alice. "Yep, that's definitely Santa," he adds swiftly after reaching his conclusion.

Alice's jaw instantly closes as she tries to contain her composure and confusion over your boyfriend's sudden appearance as Santa.

"Guys, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Nick!" you cheer as you let Nick pass in front of you. introducing him to friends with a broad smile on your face. 

Max's mouth falls open, too stunned to speak. As she raises her eyebrows in amusement, Alice is attempting to piece together how this might have happened.

“I’ve heard nothing but great things about you two, It’s great to meet you” Drew says in character, pointing at Alice and Max. He smiles underneath the white bread.

Drew puts his left arm around your shoulder as you sit on his lap, putting your hands on your knees and grinning. You subconsciously find the Santa impression impressive.

With a gesture between Alice and himself, Max says, "Aw, same, um, as us..." pausing for a quick moment looking around, "Would you like anything to drink or snack on by any chance?" Curious, Max asks

Nick looks at Max and says, "Oh, um, maybe a warm glass of milk with." He sits down right away. "And a huge chocolate chip cookie topped with shards of sprinkles?" Nick added, highlighting the final phrase. 

"Yuck," Alice responds hastily.

You quickly drop your smile, looking at her. What did she say about my man?

Max frowns slowly and says, "Uh oh, I think we are out of shards." He then slowly turns, side-eyeing Alice—still attempting to take everything in.

When Nick sees that his clothing is covered in soot, he excuses himself to go upstairs to the restroom, leaving the three of you below until he returns.

As he reaches the steps, you watch him closely until Alice says, "Hey, this is actually insane but, um, that's Santa Claus, right?" She points up the stairs while posing mocking questions.

You look shocked in a moment. You respond, "Oh my god," while gazing at her as though she were crazy. You inquire informally, "What kind of messed up thing is that to say?"

The two of them ask you whether you are serious about the relationship or if it's a trick.

Max interrupts, "Debbie, girl, it's not messed up. Think about it, big white scruffy beard?" He was making bread motions with his hands.

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “well he decided to do no shave November, for your information.”

“And he has the classic big belly?” Alice tries putting her point clear.

Dramatically gasping at her comment, “And there it is, the body shaming begins,” throwing your hands in the air, Alice and Max make eye contact with each other wondering if your delusions will come to an end—Max quietly scoffs. 

"What kind of Mean Girls situation is this? You say, "Can't believe this," in an attempt to come seem as offended by their critical remarks. 

Alice mumbles to herself, "Okay, relax," as she scratches the back of her head looking around the room. 

You begin detailing his character and making it quite clear that he is Santa without actually stating so. When Nick came down the stairs, your two friends decided to stop commenting.

Max and Alice thank him for giving them gifts, and Nick flicks his fingers when he realizes he left something in the car and will be right back. "So, how does he make enough money to buy us all these presents?" Max glances in your direction.

You keep telling them that he described his exact job, but you were too preoccupied to pay attention and found it dull at the time. "If I'm not mistaken, toy manufacturer," you shrug your shoulders.

“Uh, Deb, you won’t be happy from what I’m gonna say,” Alice leans in, “that’s what Santa does,” she explains speaking in a high-pitched voice.

"Like I said before, he's not Santa Claus, his job doesn't even pay, and I don't—" You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the rooftop.

Is this girl okay? Max thinks to himself.

"Is your boyfriend on the roof?" Alice asks you a suspicious inquiry.

You laugh uneasily, "He's probably fixing something up there, right? He would have noticed something," you explain, "my partner can actually make something," smiling sarcastically, "like a guy," you swiftly shift your head over at Max, making a remark about what his boyfriend does for a living.

We weren't expecting to hear those words from you.

"Besides, if he was Santa," you pause, "then why is he so good in bed?" You cross your arms together, lean back against the chair, and give them a peculiar look.

The two chuckle in their chairs. "Oh, well, I didn't read that in the text," Alice replies drastically as though your remark had upset her.

A little while later, Nick shows up at the house with two gift boxes for your two friends. Your face lights up when you see him giving your two pals thoughtful gifts. Your words, "How thoughtful of you, my love!"

They had no idea how to find their gifts in front of them when they opened them and saw what they had long yearned for. You wonder how Nick knew they desired those gifts as you point to them. 

Everyone on stage and in the crowd bursts out laughing when Owen, who portrays Max, unintentionally fires the soft nerf bullet, striking Megan, Alice's character, on the side of her face. It was more humorous—Megan was fine, too.

Max and Alice, becoming all sensual in the moment, said they wrote letters to Santa Claus and just wished for them. You sigh softly and stare down at your feet. "Well, if he's really Santa, he would know that the only thing I asked for as a little girl was singing a duet with Shania Twain," you pout.

Is she coming out?

Is it my turn yet?

Suddenly, Shaian Twain enters the home door dressed as Mrs. Claus and asks to see her husband. After figuring everything out, you exclaim, "You are married?!" As you rise from your chair, your voice is full of shock and sadness.

Nick and Shain Twain explain their relationship and being open in sharing. Everyone in the living room is in a state of shock, except for Alice and Max. You quickly point to Nick, “He’s not Santa!” you raise your voice—voice cracking a little.

The audience laughs as they clap once the skit ends.

You giggle as you follow Drew after everyone has left the stage. "You did such a good job doing the Santa impression baby," you say, giving him a playful sideways nudge. 

He replies nonchalantly, as like he didn't need to practice, "Oh you know, gotta show them who the real boss is but it comes naturally."

You laugh, "Dork."

You decide to snap a quick photo of Drew before he can do anything else while he's staring at you from the couch in the dressing room with his bogus beard still on. You suddenly say, "Say cheese, Santa!" and take him by surprise.

You take a close look at the image on your screen, thinking, "Perfect for our Christmas card this year."

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[mangle-my-mind]

I don't think my answer will surprise anyone. It HAS to be Gimme Danger.

What is the best scene in Velvet Goldmine?

Reblog & tag and/or reply with your answers!

[mrsmandalorian]

nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader one shot

summary: a surprise visitor at your first-ever coachella performance!

second part: espresso/main masterlist /word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. i would love to hear your feedback or comments! much love to everyone!! -maddie

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully. 

You were ready. 

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody. 

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit.  You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song. 

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship. 

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you. 

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd. 

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces. 

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes. 

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now. 

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans. 

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down. 

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer. 

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides. 

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression. 

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey. 

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof. 

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home.  “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.” 

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh. 

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!” 

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.” 

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast. 

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together. 

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit. 

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him. 

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you. 

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk. 

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.” 

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound. 

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps. 

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.”  He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you. 

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.)  You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him. 

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face. 

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes. 

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.” 

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot. 

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands,  your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.  

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist. 

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub. 

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass.  “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?” 

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans. 

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders. 

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises. 

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it. 

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man. 

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

[delusional-day-dreamer]

First. Love. Part¹ - p.b

playlist. next part.

‣ paige bueckers x oc (reader?, tbh i'm not sure how it works!)

‣ wc: 1790

‣‣ synopsis: people say in life, you have your FIRST love and your first LOVE, but what if paige was both?

‣‣‣ a/n: y'all i'm SO SORRY for my inactivity, summer classes and morning practices are awful. i promise i will try to release more fics on a more regular basis. For the sake of the FICTIONAL story, pazzi simply does not exist, they are best friends but denied the rumors during azzi's freshmen year and she has a boyfriend. Songs that are underlined are linked to tiktok covers just because I love them!

Us Weekly : Tuesday June 13th, 2023

Just this friday, upcoming singer-songwriter Jenna Smyths performs her own song, Means Something and an instrumental cover of Holy Ground by Taylor Swift at BBC Live Lounge to introduce her soon to be released debut album, Eternal Us (not my most creative moment I know 😔). The young singer has just graduated from UCLA after completing her three-year Bachelor's Degree with a double major, her focus being Business Economics with a minor in Film, Television, and Digital Media.

This Friday was Jenna's first televised performance, and her constantly sold out small-venue concerts have been applauded all over social media and by celebrities for her vocal maturity, depth and intricacy within her song lyrics, and her ability to convey raw emotion through her performances. However, this song cover was announced by the singer-songwriter to be particularly special to her, as she mentions that this song "brings back specific memories".

The twenty-one year old kept her composure throughout both songs, yet fans on various media platforms have pointed out Jenna's seemingly tear filled eyes during Holy Ground. The artist addresses the emotions she felt during the song during her first appearance on the Jimmy Fallon Show after performing her first released single, Promise, which is prominently featured as it’s one of her most popular singles.

The Tonight Show: Monday June 12th, 2023 "Please welcome to The Tonight Show, Jenna Smyths," Jimmy introduced you as you walked onto the set of the show, the live audience cheering loudly as you took your seat on the couch.

"Thank you so much Jimmy, it's such an honor to be here, sitting on this sacred couch," you joked, bringing some of your recently curled hair over your shoulder in hopes of disguising any traces of anxiety the crowd or camera may pick up. Thankfully, it worked as you heard the stir of laughter on set, allowing you to relax further into the couch, it actually was quite comfortable.

"It's incredible that we have you sitting here, I mean almost two years ago you blew up on TikTok for your incredible song covers, and then you started playing live in a bunch of LA venues, then you started releasing your own music, and now you're a UCLA Alumni sitting here," as he summed up your rise to fame, the audience began another round of applause.

"Oh my gosh I know right," you giggled, overjoyed that the audience was showing so much support towards you and that your first big interview was going so well. "I swear it was like two weeks ago I was singing on TikTok and then freaking out about my notifications and somehow I just teleported here," you laughed off the slight tinge you felt in your heart.

College had gone by far too quickly, and you were constantly consumed with stress regarding your future. Up until a few weeks ago, you had no idea what you were going to do with your life. What if your album flopped? What if you never made it big? How would you move on and get a regular job from there?

"Yes yes, I remember seeing some of your earliest covers on tiktok. In fact," a smirk appeared on his face, he clearly had something hiding up his sleeve. "We just so happen to have a little video edited together of your old covers, for old times' sake just to show how far you've come," he laughed at the nervous expression on your face and the crowd's enthusiasm.

"Oh god, some of those are from questionable times," you mumbled, raising your right hand to slightly cover your mouth as the video played.

Clips of you singing in your old college apartment bedroom appeared, switching in between guitar covers and piano while singing Katy Perry's Teenage Dream, We Can't Be Friends by Ariana Grande (yes pretend it was out at the time), Bags by Clairo, to the Man Who Can't Be Moved, and a few others. You watched your younger self, heartbroken and healing, singing songs to post on the internet just for your friends to watch, and yet somehow your voice had reached millions of people.

"Well you can see it here clear as day folks, Jenna has clearly always had a knack for those gut-wrenching songs, the ones that make you wonder if you're depressed or the artist is just incredibly good at what they do," you knew he was introducing your live performance with this, sneakily rubbing your sweaty palms over your jeans. You weren't nearly as scared as your BBC performance, but the combination of fear and adrenaline before any performance was overwhelming compared to logic at times.

"So what do you guys say, because I think we need to hear it live to determine which one it truly is," the small crowd erupted at Jimmy's rhetoric, eager to watch your performance.

"Well when you ask so nicely how could I ever refuse Jimmy?" You grinned, standing up to make your way over to the performance area with the live band.

With your guitar in your hands, you let the unique sense of calmness and security wash over you as you adjusted the mic in front of you. Music had always been one of the biggest parts in your life, and even know it never failed you. Not in your best moments, and not even in your worse.

"This is Promise from my new album, Eternal Us, out June 30th"

***Post-performance part of the interview***

"Jenna, you know I have to ask you this, because so far the songs on your album, your covers, and even your performance at the BBC Live Lounge were all fairly depressing songs," Jimmy insists. The two of you had been joking and answering the interview questions with a sense of ease after the performance aspect of the show. The audience was eating up the playful energy the two of you seemed to have, despite the twenty-seven year age gap.

"Please, ask away Jimmy," you quipped, enjoying your time on the show. The steady laughter from the live audience had long soothed any remaining nerves. Growing up, you always felt as if you were born to perform, and this type of live interview was right up your alley.

"And I swear I'm being serious with this, but does the emotion in your music affect you the same it affects your listeners? Because after your cover of Holy Ground aired, you blew up on social media even more then you were before. But one of the things your fans noticed was that it looked like you were gonna cry?" Jimmy inquired, you could hear small murmurs from the audience section at his question, no doubt intrigued to hear your answer.

"You know Jimmy," you began, "Honestly it was just a heat of the moment kinda thing. Like obviously I changed the song in a different key and sang it that way intentionally you know? Taylor is known for her ability to write the most gut-wrenching lyrics and then syncing them up to a catchy beat in a pop song and boom, it's a hit," you explained to both him and the crowd.

"But when I was offered the opportunity to go on BBC Live Lounge and I was trying to decide what song to cover, the lyrics of the song just really stuck out to me in a personal way and I wanted to convey to my listeners the emotions I felt reading and experiencing the lyrics, not listening to it as an upbeat pop song. But don't get me wrong, it's an incredible song just the way it is!" You ended your ramble enthusiastically, trying your best to not delve into the deeper emotions laced within your statement.

"Of course, I mean it was your first televised performance and to a Taylor Swift song no less, but this song has a very meaning to it, unlike some of Taylor's other doctorate-level essay worthy songs you could spend hours analyzing," Jimmy jokes, lightening the mood as always before asking the hard hitting question you had been dreading the entire interview.

"Why did you choose to sing a song about reminiscing of a past relationship, an ex lover if you will. I mean, a good majority of your songs follow the heartbroken post-breakup theme, but the media isn't aware of any relationships you may or may not have had during your time at UCLA, was there someone before?" He questions.

"You're right, I didn't have any actual relationships while at UCLA. My only serious relationship was during my last two years of high school, and a lot of my songs I'm releasing now were written during that time or even earlier, I've just polished them a lot. And of course, my earliest covers are from my freshman year of college, so the wound was still pretty fresh you know?" You skimmed over the topic, keeping the discussion as light-hearted as possible.

"Oh my god, all of that was from one person?" Jimmy jokes, unaware of how hard his statement hits home for you.

"Yeah I mean, I guess your first love will just do that to you, you know?" You joked back. You refused, refused, to let Paige Bueckers affect you in this way on national television. It had been three years for god's sake, you needed to get a grip of yourself.

"Well, they must have been one heck of a first love to be such a long-lasting muse for you," Jimmy pried, and you could tell he was waiting for you to give more details about your relationship.

"Nah nah, cut the cameras, I think we're out of time for tonight right," you nervously laughed, jokingly leaning over to gesture in an over the top manner to the camera crew to stop filming, which roused hefty laughter around set at your antics.

"Don't worry Jenna, we'll leave that topic for next time yeah?" Jimmy chuckled at your immediate refusal, using his perfected charm to continue the interview without any bumps or awkward conversations.

Before you knew it, the interview had been long over and you were laying in your hotel's bedroom. In your opinion, the NYC suite was luxurious and was far too large for just one person to reside. But fortunately for you, you were used to the sense of loneliness you felt in the empty room. To think that you were only a few hours away from Paige, your first love, your first everything, and yet you had never felt more separated from a person you used to love with your whole being.

Thank you for reading all the way through! Part 2 of So High School will be out soon I promise, this series just happened to randomly inspire me and I want to finish it asap before I lose motivation or hit writer's block!

[moonstruckme]

hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm

That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3

cw: bar

rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 

These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 

Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 

You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 

A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 

During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 

Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 

Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 

The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 

“You’re not bad at that.” 

You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 

“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 

You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 

“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 

You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 

Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 

His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 

Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 

He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 

“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 

“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”

[notebookmusical]

“In light of everything that’s happened in the past three months alone, here’s some incredibly valid reasons to be pissed off at Taylor Swift, or simply not like her — as someone who loved her, and loved her music. First and foremost, Taylor Swift is personally burning a hole through the ozone with the amount of CO2 she uses. That’s not even the main point of this video; but this is a graph from 2022 of how much CO2 she produced of her 170 private jet flights, versus the average person. She has spent 70 grand on jet fuel alone. Taylor Swift, alone has used 170 tons of CO2 in the past 3 months. The average person only burns like, 16 tons. That’s not even the main part of this video. The main point of the video is the fact that she has not spoken up about Palestine. And the reason that is so fundamentally frustrating is that Taylor Swift has influence. Quote Brittany Broski, when she also didn’t speak up about Palestine — “if you have a platform, and you have people listening, you have to use it.” It’s criminal to not use it, and Taylor Swift uses it. This is from September 2023. Record-breaking registration numbers from one Instagram post. Literally stating, saying “I’ve been so lucky to see so many of you guys at my US shows recently. I’ve heard you raise your voices, and I know how powerful they are. Make sure you’re ready to use them in our elections this year!” They had a 72(%) increase in 18-year-old registrations. When it comes to Palestine, she’s completely silent. And now that it’s somewhat more socially acceptable to attend Pro-Palestine events, she’s been quietly going with Selena Gomez, but I for one, think that your Instagram is perhaps the best asset you have. If not, money. And I’m sure in a couple months, we’ll learn about how Taylor Swift was quietly setting up foundations for pro-Palestine, and that she was always for the cause and she’s always supported them, but all it takes is one fucking Instagram post. Especially when Israel Palestine is fundamentally a war of narratives. It’s whose story do you believe, despite the mounting evidence that proves that Israel has continuously been doing ethnic cleansing and genocide. They are still maintaining this narrative that they are not doing that. And all Taylor Swift has to do is say “hey, 22 thousand deaths in 3 months? The most in any modern war? This doesn’t seem right.” I don’t even want her to be that leftist or radical, but literally just to ask the question to her largely American audience, when US has bypassed Congress twice to sell millions in arms aid to Israel.  Just for her to be like “Should that many kids be dying, perhaps?” The bar is on the floor, but she still refuses to do it. And the reason why Taylor Swift in particular, not because of the influence that she has and not because of the platform that she has, but why her in particular, is because the IDF continues to use her songs. I know it was a public trend, but the fact that so many occupation forces felt comfortable and confident  to make like, dance edits to Taylor Swift’s music. I think it’s so important how an artist’s music is used because when the republicans wanted to use Eminem’s 8 mile track, he was like “absolutely fucking not, I do not give you consent to do that, and I do not associate with your politics. Don’t do that.” I feel like she should know that her music is being used as the anthem of the occupation forces as they go and bomb civilians. Her, and other artists like her, like Beyonce, who showed her film in Israel, and they’re all like dancing and singing, and saying “you’re not going to break my soul”, whilst they continue to bomb the shit out of civilians have said nothing. And I hope, as I’ve demonstrated in the video, for the people who are going to be like “What’s Taylor swift going to do? She’s not a politician.” Be serious. Be serious. She has a fucking chokehold on at least a billion people. She could’ve said and done way more than what she’s done, and also the CO2 levels." (from: this tiktok*)

* i tried to transcribe the tiktok since tiktok wasn't showing the captions for me but if i misheard anything please let me know!

[lix1nyu]

after you had a fight with him, he looks for you during his concert

6reeze xiao x gn!reader

modern/celebrity au, angst, fluff, not proofread

a/n: i am struggling to write please take my feeble offering

the flashing lights on the stage aren't half as bright as the way your eyes light up when he comes home, or when you see he made breakfast for you.

xiao hasn't seen you in too long.

"please be here." he hates the pounding in chest, where under normal circumstances he would be filled with pride.

usually you stay over, but two nights ago, two nights before the start of his 6reeze tour, you and xiao had a large argument about how he wasn't taking care of himself because of his job.

he lashed out at you, and he thinks you hate him for it, but he hates himself even more.

he didn't get half the sleep he needed for his big day. you just weren't there.

not one face in the crowd below is yours. he has never felt so anxious.

xiao hopes nobody notices how he sings with more desperation in his voice, the notes scratching in his throat.

halfway through the chorus, he finally spots you.

you, beautiful you with your arms crossed, not singing or dancing. your friends scream their heads off beside you but you just watch.

the words to the song he wrote for you are a lot rawer than intended. tears begin to flood his vision.

xiao spots aether on the guitar in the corner of his eye before it starts getting blurry. he blinks in time to see the guitarist mouth a 'you okay?' in a break of the song.

xiao doesn't feel okay.

he doesn't feel okay when the concert ends, and the audience is leaving, and you're leaving with them.

xiao doesn't feel very okay, but he drops whatever he was even holding to bolt out after you.

"yn! yn, wait."

you give in. it's hard not to. "yes?"

he stops to catch his breath when you turn around. xiao doesn't even know what to say, where to start.

"look, i-" he stops to think carefully. "i don't mean what i said, okay? i mean- the wrong words came out, i- i didn't-"

"wow," you say, feigning impressment. "for how much you love songwriting, that was real poetic. is it because this time it's not for a crowd? because it's just for intrusive, overbearing me?"

his heart cracks. "yn," xiao pleads.

you give him a look. you want to hug him and say it's okay, but you don't. you don't deserve to let it slide so easily, at least not without an apology.

and xiao knows it too.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to call you intrusive, or- or overbearing. you were just looking out for me, you always do. and i was stressed and i- and i lost my shit and i shouldn't have and-" he talks faster and faster, a sign he's getting nervous.

"and i love you and i'm so sorry, so- so please don't leave me."

you rock back and forth on your feet, staring at the ground.

finally, you break the silence. "your performance was incredible. i liked the last song."

a breath escapes from xiao. "i wrote it for you," he mumbles. "actually, i- almost the whole setlist was for you, so..."

"it really hurt, you know," you say softly. "this wasn't the first time."

"i know," he whispers. "it won't happen again, really."

"okay. apology accepted."

"...but not forgiven?"

"well, walk me home first."

and xiao does, his pinkie finger intertwined with yours. you hum his last track on the way home.

[worldlxvlys]

collide

matt sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, grinding

a/n: hope you enjoyyyy <33

“thank you guys so much for all the support and coming out here tonight” i said into the microphone.

the audience members replied with deafening applause and cheers.

i laughed into the microphone, still soaking in this unreal experience.

i had gotten about halfway through my set, and now was just taking a quick breather.

“i also wanted to give a huge thank you to my best friends, for always being there for me and constantly showering me with love and support” i said as i glanced over to the triplets.

best friends. well, two of them were my best friends. matt, however, was more than that to me.

we were dating, but we hadn’t told the fans yet, not wanting to deal with the hate that would most likely come with it.

but the fans aren’t dumb.

due to their insane attention to details, they were easily able to pick up on the feelings that matt and i had for one another. they just didn’t know that we’ve acted on them.

once i put out my first album of songs, titled chemistry, the fans quickly realized i was with someone. they had their suspicions, but i never confirmed that it was about matt.

most of the tracks on the album were love songs that i wrote over the years. they weren’t even necessarily for matt, i just wrote them whenever i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him and needed a way to get them out.

song writing helped me to process my feelings, and it just so happens that matt takes up almost every thought in my brain.

“i wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys and i’ll never truly be able to put into words how grateful i am” i said while looking at the boys in the VIP section.

in response, nick smiled and blew kisses while recording the interaction, like a proud mom at their child’s performace; chris did an awkward happy dance and screamed “we love you!” , and matt sat there with a lovesick look on his face and a shit-eating grin.

after a few more, we got to my favorite song on the setlist.

“this next song, literally just came out and is already doing so well, and i thank you for that” i was met with more applause.

after introducing the song, the first few chords played and then stopped, teasing the audience.

they went wild. after a few seconds, the intro really started to play.

MATT’S POV

i been knowing you for long enough

damn, i need you right now

she looks so good. her outfit was tight, fitting her in all the right places and accentuating her curves.

you can take your time, don’t have to rush

this might take us a while

she sounds incredible live. her voice is smooth as she effortlessly slides through the runs, never missing a note.

i left all the doors unlocked and you said you’re on your way

when you get here don’t you say a word, got no time to play

she might genuinely be a siren, luring me in with her seductive, yet somehow sweet and innocent-sounding voice. her tone is crystal clear and it almost makes me want to cry.

we can go all the time

we can move fast, then rewind

when you put your body on mine

and collide, collide

she starts to sway her hips to the beat, and i genuinely think i might lose it.

wanna see your body on mine

and collide, collide

her skin is coated with a light layer of sweat, making her body glisten under the lights. she looks like a goddess.

baby it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

she looked directly at me when she sang this line, and the feeling of the intense eye contact went straight to my dick.

put it down if you want me tonight

she smirked lightly, no doubt enjoying how red my face was turning. she knows what she’s doing.

she made her way through the song, continuing to tease me. she would slowly run a hand down her body or lean forward to sing to the crowd, giving me a perfect view of her breasts.

god, they look like they’re gonna fall out of her top.

when she got to the bridge, i swear the sound of her voice alone almost made my eyes roll back.

i know that this is love when we touch boy

you got my heart

and can’t nobody make me feel like you do

boy like you do

the fact that there was so much tension between us, despite being so far away was driving me crazy.

it could be one of those nights

where we don’t turn off the lights

wanna see your body on mine and collide, collide

i could listen to the sound of her voice for the rest of my life.

i love it when she talks, when she laughs, when she sings, when she moans.

i swear when she hits certain notes, it almost sounds like she’s moaning. but no one else knows that, because i’m the only one who pulls those sounds from her pretty mouth.

those pretty lips, always soft and glossy, perfect for kissing.

by this point, my dick was throbbing as it pressed against my jeans.

said it’s all yours if you want me,

all yours if you want me

put it down if you want me

let’s collide

her head fell back as she finished the last note, basking in the endless amounts of applause she received.

her neck looks so pretty, i need to kiss it.

she looks up at me again, moving her tongue across her teeth.

yeah, she’s definitely doing this on purpose.

the further she got through her setlist, the more turned on i was.

her tits bounced when she jumped around during her upbeat songs.

at one point, she was full-on twerking. she threw her ass in a circle, her skirt riding up the slightest bit. i fully thought i was going to cum in my pants.

after she finished the last song, she began to adjust her skirt while she gave her closing speech. when she moved her hand, i saw the waistband of her panties peek through.

waistband, if you could even call it that. it became evident that she was wearing a g-string under her skirt.

i completely zoned out of what she was saying, too focused on all of the filthy thoughts that began to flood my mind.

before i knew it, there was another round of applause before she walked off of the stage.

suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

READER POV

after a few minutes, i heard a knock on my dressing room door.

i opened the door to reveal matt and i quickly pulled him in before closing and locking the door.

“hi baby” i whispered.

“hi my love” he said before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

“you did amazing, baby. and you sound better and better every time you sing”

i looked down bashfully, the corner of my lips turning up into a grin. “thanks”

he placed his finger under my chin, pushing it up to look at him.

“ you shy now, baby? didn’t seem like it when you were shaking your ass on that stage”

i glanced at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“you liked that, baby?” i asked as i turned around, moving my hair over my shoulder.

i began to grind on him, moving my ass on his hard dick.

“fuck yes, baby. shittt” he groaned as one of his hands wrapped around my waist, the other moving to grab my boob through my top.

the hand that was around my waist moved under my panties, gently rubbing my clit.

“fuckkkk matt” i sighed out, my head pressing against the door.

his breathing got heavy as he rutted his hips against my ass, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.

“talk to me baby, please. gotta here that pretty voice” he choked out as his voice got slightly higher in pitch.

“ yeah baby? like the way my ass feels against your bulge? want me to twerk on you?” before he could answer, i bent over slightly.

my skirt inched up, exposing my ass and making his fully erect cock dig into it.

“fuck! you can’t do that, baby. i’m gonna cum”

“take these off for me” i said, pulling on his jeans.

he quickly complied, unbuckling his belt and pulling them off while i turned around to face him.

he swiftly picked me up, bringing me over to a vanity and placing me down on top of it.

my back was pressed up against the mirror, which was cool against my burning skin.

he brought his lips to mine in a hot, desperate kiss.

his hands crept under my skirt, pulling my panties off without breaking the kiss.

he smoothly pocketed them before collecting my wetness with his finger, using it as a lubricant to push his digit inside of me.

“shit, matt” i moaned out as he fucked me with his finger.

i reached down between us, stroking his length through his boxers.

he added another finger, stretching me out.

“oh my god, matt. so fucking good” my eyebrows furrowed as i leaned my forehead against his.

“gotta make sure my princess is nice and stretched, never wanna hurt you” he spoke between grunts.

i moved my fingers to the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and watching his dick slap his stomach.

his tip was red and covered in pre-cum.

he removed his fingers from my aching pussy while i pumped him a few times, before guiding him inside of me.

we both groaned at the feeling of my walls squeezing him as i took him inch by inch.

he gave me a minute to adjust before thrusting into me deep and hard.

i screamed his name, probably loud enough for anyone outside of the room to hear.

“yes baby, lemme hear that gorgeous voice. god, i love hearing you say my name”

matt pushed his hips up into mine with full force, his hands on my waist to hold me steady.

“you feel so good wrapped around me like this baby. you’re so good” he whispered.

he pushed me into the mirror with each thrust, producing a loud thud each time it hit the wall.

the vanity shook under me as he kept up his relentless pace.

matt took my legs and hooked them over his shoulder, continuing to ram into me.

i felt my orgasm approaching, and i grabbed onto matt’s biceps, needing something to hold onto.

“matt matt matt, i’m gonna cum!” i yelled frantically.

“me too, give it to me baby. wanna feel you dripping down my cock” his words sent me over the edge.

with a final cry i released all over him, while he filled me up.

he thrusted a few more times, helping us ride out our highs before pulling out.

“god damn” i whispered out as we watched our juices spill out of me.

“you’re so fucking amazing” he said as he cleaned us up.

after we got dressed and made our appearances look somewhat presentable we stepped out of the dressing room.

“where are your brothers?” i asked with furrowed brows.

i pulled out my phone and saw a text from nick.

we’re going outside to wait. we can hear you freaky fucks from across the venue.

matt and i looked at each other and bursted out laughing.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

[cerebralisis]

I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

The word ‘Ananda’ mentioned above is the name of a character in the book, which is significant to the story because it’s a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. If this series is what Taylor is referencing then it’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again?

I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

[thesillymask]

Hiii!

I recently found your blog and you're literally the first person I found who writes for Abel, I actually love you for that!

Anyways, may I please request an Abel x gender neutral or fem reader who is a singer? (it can be just headcanons) The rest is up to you!

Thank youuu! <3

aaaaw thank you! I'm happy to be the first to write about Abel. I looked in several places and didn't find anything about Abel x reader/Y/N, so I decided to do it myself ✨

I made headcanons because I love making headcanons!

Abel x NB!Singer!Reader Headcanons

warnings: My versions of Eve and Abel's siblings

Aaaw the music, one of the most beautiful and incredible creations ever... Abel was one of the first children to discover music, along with his brother (cough cough- Cain- cough cough). He listened to the sweet songs his mother sang, so soft and comforting...

Adam had already made a stringed instrument with wood, branches, string and other things, and Abel watched his father play from afar. He liked the sound his father's invention made, it was so different... And little Abel found himself very fascinated by it.

Abel remembers like it was yesterday when he created his own stringed instrument, Cain helped him make it and he was so happy and excited. Of course, when he played it for the first time, it didn't go great... But he was a determined boy, and he trained until he perfected his talent with the instrument.

Now back to the present, how did Abel meet you? Well, he met you at a show you were performing in heaven, so cliché~ Norea was bugging him to go out to see a show that was going to be on that night, and he simply gave in.

So there he was, in a crowd of winners and other angels waiting for the show to start. He was nervous because he was so out of place at that moment... And that's when the show started, the screams of enthusiasm from the crowd were almost deafening, and the screams that Norea was giving next to him were no better. He was about to say he didn't want to be there anymore and leave, until You appeared on stage and the music started.

He was surprised to see you singing, your voice was... Divine... Simply divine... The way you sang the song with so much passion while the sounds and instruments played along. he found himself so enchanted by the scene before him, his eyes practically glowed and this did not go unnoticed by Norea

At the end of the show Norea was practically dragging him backstage to come and talk to you. Abel was extremely nervous and panicked, trying to make his sister stop and for them to just go home, but she is persistent. It was then that you heard from one of the security guards that two of the first man's sons wanted to speak to you, which was quite shocking to say the least.

Abel was blushing and nervous while Norea was praising you and talking about how amazing the show was, then she mentioned that Abel was very amazed by the show and started to talk about Abel having a big passion for music too and started talking about how you two would get along. Abel was so nervous and embarrassed about this, what was Norea's problem!?

Amazingly enough, you two actually became friends, and then it evolved into a relationship. he should thank Norea for that

The love that both had for music was something that made you both connect so quickly and intensely. Sometimes Abel would just sit next to you in some quiet place and start playing his guitar while you started singing softly. Abel started listening to your songs, he loved hearing you voices.

Before, was it Norea who dragged him to see yours show? Well, now he was the one who dragged others to see his beautiful beloved sing! He wanted to show his friends and siblings how talented and amazing his beloved was.

He would definitely be your number one fan, screaming louder than everyone else and competing with the others in the audience to be at the front of the stage so he could see you.

He would always go backstage at the end of your shows to praise you and shower you with hugs and kisses. He is so sweet to his beloved singer.

If you let him, he will hang out in your dressing room while you get ready for a show, he will help you if he can and tell you how beautiful you look.

"This is my favorite singer! Now go on that stage and show everyone how amazing you are, angelcakes!"

Oh if you create a song dedicated to him... Oh man, He'll turn into a euphoric and emotional puppy, He will cling to you and tell you how much he loves you and then point out to everyone that the song was dedicated to him.

Yay! Finally some Headcanons! I love writing my Headcanons!

And thank you very much for the 100 likes and 10 followers! I didn't expect to get so many followers and likes with only 4 posts, thank you very much! I'm happy to know that you like my posts! 💖

[amethystarachnid]

Hi!! I hope you’re doing well 🥰

I had an idea for the Marvel Multiverse Reality Show AU with Tony x F!Personal Assistant Reader (if you’re willing to write it?).

Maybe after just announcing he’s Iron Man, he’s agreed to have a reality show about himself called “The Stark Reality” (because we know this man LOVES attention and it’s a good play on words 🤭). He welcomes the crew in and it shows the world about his daily life, his iron man life, maybe his playboy life etc etc. Throughout filming his reality show, he has many interactions with his personal assistant on screen. Fans watching begin speculating on their relationship together, which after a while leads to an awkward yet sweet realization between the two. His PA definitely has feeling for her boss, but much to her surprise he’s had those same feelings too. It’s sweet when they come to the realization together, but it’s incredibly awkward when they realize the cameras had been secretly filming their sweet moment entire time 😵‍💫

I hope it makes sense lol. Thanks for taking the time to even read this! 🫶🏻

THE STARK REALITY (SHOW)

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, romance

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.7k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): lack of privacy because they are in a reality show

ᯓ★ Maybe a part 2?

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The camera crew files into the mansion, wide-eyed and slightly overwhelmed, their equipment catching the gleam of expensive decor and cutting-edge technology. The grand entrance of the Stark estate is exactly as the world imagines—opulent, excessive, and bathed in the golden glow of wealth. The moment the director calls for the first shot, Tony Stark is already in the center of it all, perfectly at ease in the limelight.

“Welcome to The Stark Reality!” he announces, arms thrown wide, that signature smirk plastered across his face. “A reality show about a billionaire, genius, ex-weapons manufacturer, and recently announced superhero. Also known as me.” He winks directly at the camera. “You’re welcome, world.”

The camera crew shifts to follow him as he walks deeper into the house, narrating as he goes. He gestures to the extravagant living space, to the sleek glass walls revealing a sprawling Malibu view, to the open bar already stocked with expensive bottles. It’s all part of the spectacle, but then again, so is he.

And then there’s you.

You linger just outside the frame, tablet in hand, lips pressed together in a straight line. You’ve been Tony’s assistant for years now, navigating his unpredictable whims, his extravagant lifestyle, and now, apparently, his newfound interest in reality television. You should’ve seen this coming. The man loves an audience.

He turns suddenly, catching you off guard. “And this,” he says, beckoning you over, “is my lovely, brilliant, long-suffering personal assistant.”

The camera swings toward you, and you resist the urge to sigh. Instead, you school your features into something passably professional, giving the crew a tight smile.

“Hi,” you say simply.

Tony raises a brow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of enthusiasm. “Come on, give ‘em something. These people are here for entertainment.”

You don’t miss the way he leans in slightly, mischief dancing in his eyes. He loves doing this—pulling you into his orbit, pushing at your composure just to see if you’ll break.

You tilt your head, tapping your tablet. “Would you like me to list your meetings for the day or just summarize the number of ways this reality show is going to be a logistical nightmare?”

He grins. “See? She’s got personality. And she keeps me on schedule, which is an almost impossible task, so she’s basically a superhero in her own right.”

“I don’t have time to save the world,” you say dryly. “I’m too busy saving you from yourself.”

The crew chuckles, and Tony places a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Ouch. And yet, true.”

The filming continues as Tony moves through his morning routine—or rather, what he claims is his routine but is obviously exaggerated for the cameras. He lounges dramatically on his couch, sipping a green smoothie he wouldn’t drink on a normal day. He shows off the in-house gym he rarely uses because, as he puts it, “Why sweat when you have a suit of armor that does all the heavy lifting?”

Still, he’s in his element. The camera loves him, and he loves it right back.

Throughout the day, the crew captures glimpses of what it’s like to work for Tony Stark—organized chaos at best. You’re constantly in motion, fielding calls, managing his schedule, and dodging his playful antics.

At one point, you’re briefing him about an upcoming meeting when he suddenly cuts you off.

“Hold that thought,” he says, turning toward the camera with an exaggerated look of excitement. “This is the part where I ignore my assistant’s very important words and do something reckless.”

You let out a slow breath, eyes closing for a brief second. “Please don’t.”

Too late. He’s already bolting toward his workshop, the crew scrambling to keep up.

The rest of the day follows suit, a whirlwind of Tony being Tony—charming, infuriating, and completely impossible. The world wanted a peek into his life, and now they’re getting it. But beneath all the theatrics, the cameras capture something else too—those little moments where he looks at you just a beat too long, the way he teases you not just for the show, but because he enjoys it.

And maybe you enjoy it too.

The days of filming blur together in a chaotic, camera-filled whirlwind. Tony adapts quickly, thriving under the constant attention, but for you, it’s an adjustment. You’re used to managing him behind the scenes, not under the watchful eyes of millions who will dissect every interaction, every glance, every word exchanged between you.

And dissect they do.

At first, the comments from fans are lighthearted.

"Wow, Tony’s assistant is a saint. How does she put up with him?"

"The way he looks at her though?? I’d die for a man to look at me like that."

"There’s no way they haven’t at least kissed before. The chemistry is insane."

You ignore it. It’s just the internet being the internet. But as the show airs more episodes, the speculation doesn’t just continue—it grows. Entire compilations pop up online, showing moments between you and Tony that seem insignificant alone but, when stitched together, tell a different story.

One of those moments happens late one night when the cameras are supposed to be off.

It’s past midnight, and most of the crew has packed up for the day, but you’re still in the workshop, scrolling through Tony’s calendar on your tablet. He’s at his workbench, eyes locked on whatever latest modification he’s making to the suit. It’s quiet, comfortable. Just the two of you.

“You should go to bed,” he murmurs without looking up.

“You should take your own advice,” you counter.

A smirk tugs at his lips, and he finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “I will if you will.”

You shake your head, suppressing a smile. “I have too much to do.”

“So do I.” He gestures vaguely at the half-finished repulsor in front of him. “But unlike you, I am my own boss and can ignore my responsibilities.”

You huff out a laugh, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “You ignore them whether you’re your own boss or not.”

His smirk widens. “Exactly. Now sit.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sit?”

“Yeah.” He pats the empty stool beside him. “You’re making me nervous, standing there all tense. Come on, take a load off.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give in, sliding onto the stool next to him. He’s still looking at you, and now that you’re closer, you notice the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his expression. It’s rare to see him without the armor of his usual bravado.

“Long day?” you ask softly.

He hums, rolling his shoulders. “Something like that.”

Without thinking, you reach out and press your fingers against a knot in his shoulder, kneading gently. He freezes for a fraction of a second, then exhales, melting slightly under your touch.

“Oh,” he murmurs, voice lower now. “That’s dangerous.”

Your fingers still. “What is?”

He turns his head slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “Letting you know that feels good. You might start using it as leverage.”

You roll your eyes but keep massaging the tension from his shoulder. “Please. Like I don’t already have enough leverage on you.”

His lips quirk up in amusement, and for a while, neither of you say anything. The quiet hum of the workshop fills the space, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips grounding you. It’s easy to forget the world outside of moments like this.

What neither of you realize is that one of the smaller cameras in the corner of the workshop—the one meant to capture footage of his tech for the show—was never turned off.

When the footage airs, the internet explodes.

"GUYS, I AM LITERALLY GONNA SCREAM. Did you see the way he just let her touch him like that? He was SOFT for her. I can’t do this."

"No but the way she just casually massages him like it’s normal… THEY’RE IN LOVE."

"I don’t even care if they say they’re not together, the EYE CONTACT says otherwise."

Tony, of course, loves the reactions.

“People are calling me soft,” he says one morning, shoving his phone in your face. “For you.”

You glance up from your tablet, unimpressed. “I mean, they’re not wrong.”

His grin widens. “Oh? You admit I have a soft spot for you?”

“I admit you think you do,” you reply smoothly, swiping to the next appointment on his schedule.

“Ouch. Brutal,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

You shake your head, suppressing a smile, but then he does something unexpected. He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s a small thing, a fleeting touch, but it sends your heart skipping a beat.

And of course, the cameras catch it.

The moment goes viral within hours.

"Tony tucking her hair behind her ear?? Sir, I am UNWELL."

"I’m convinced they forget they’re being filmed sometimes because this is NOT platonic behavior."

"The way she paused for a second after he touched her… yeah, she felt that."

The more moments like this pile up, the harder it gets to brush off the speculation. The crew catches everything—the way Tony always seems to find excuses to be near you, the way his gaze lingers just a second too long when you’re not looking, the way you press a coffee into his hand before he even asks for it.

One day, after a particularly chaotic filming session involving a very unnecessary stunt with the Iron Man suit (which you had explicitly told him not to do), the two of you find yourselves alone in the kitchen.

You’re filling a glass of water when Tony steps beside you, leaning casually against the counter.

“You’re mad,” he observes.

You take a sip of your own water. “I’m not mad.”

He tilts his head, studying you. “Annoyed, then.”

You set your glass down with a sigh. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

His expression softens slightly. “But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair.

For once, he doesn’t immediately deflect with a joke. Instead, he reaches out, gently tugging at your wrist until you look at him.

“I’m fine,” he says, quieter now.

You exhale, shaking your head. “I know. I just—” You stop yourself, not sure how to put it into words.

Tony doesn’t push. He just holds your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his expression. The air between you shifts, heavier than before.

Neither of you realize the camera in the corner of the kitchen is still rolling.

"Nah, because that moment in the kitchen was INTIMATE. The way he reached for her wrist so gently??? PLEASE."

"Okay but the way she was genuinely worried about him? And the way he actually let himself be serious for once?? They’re in LOVE."

"I don’t even need confirmation at this point. This is a slow-burn romance happening in real-time."

You tell yourself it’s just the cameras.

That’s why everything feels heightened, why your heart stumbles in your chest every time Tony leans just a little too close, why your stomach flips when his gaze lingers a second too long.

It’s the show. The attention. The fact that millions of people are dissecting every interaction between you, making you hyperaware of the way Tony touches you so casually, the way he teases you so effortlessly, the way he just exists in your space like he belongs there.

Because that’s all it is.

Right?

You try to ignore it. Try to act normal. Try to pretend your pulse doesn’t quicken when he throws an arm around your shoulders in front of the cameras, pulling you into his orbit like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t let yourself think too much about the way his touch lingers, the way his hand sometimes settles at the small of your back when he guides you through a crowd, the way he always seems to know exactly what to say to get under your skin—just enough to fluster you, just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

You’ve worked for Tony long enough to know that he’s always been like this. He’s charming, magnetic, impossible to ignore. He flirts with everyone, makes people feel like they’re the only person in the room when he talks to them.

It’s just who he is.

But then there are moments that don’t feel like a performance.

Like the time you’re both in the workshop late at night again, and he offers you a screwdriver without looking, like he somehow knows exactly what you need before you ask. Or the time he catches you yawning after a long day and, without a word, pushes his cup of coffee toward you.

Or the time you stumble half-asleep into the kitchen one morning, still in your pajamas, and find him already there, making two cups of coffee—one exactly how you like it.

“You’re up early,” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes.

He smirks, handing you the coffee. “You’re just up late.”

You take the cup from him, wrapping your fingers around the warmth. “Thanks.”

He watches you as you take your first sip, his expression softer than usual. “You should sleep more.”

You arch a brow at him. “You’re one to talk.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, but he doesn’t argue. And then he does something that makes your brain short-circuit—he reaches out and brushes his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

You freeze.

“There was coffee there,” he says, voice low, almost teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes. Something that makes your heart stutter.

The moment stretches, thick with something unspoken. And then—

“Morning, boss! Morning, Y/N!”

You both jolt back as one of the camera crew members strolls in, oblivious. You step away quickly, lifting your coffee to your lips to hide the fact that your face is burning.

Tony just exhales through his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like cockblocked by my own reality show.

The cameras weren’t even rolling that morning, but somehow, the clip of him wiping coffee off your lip still ends up online.

"HELLO?? HIS THUMB ON HER LIP?? WHAT KIND OF ROMANCE NOVEL BULLSHIT IS THIS??"

"He looked so focused on her mouth I am losing my mind."

"I swear they forget the cameras exist sometimes. That was INTIMATE."

The internet is eating this up. Fans are analyzing every look, every touch, every moment between you and Tony with the kind of dedication usually reserved for crime scene investigations.

You try to ignore it.

You fail.

Because suddenly, you start noticing things you’ve ignored before.

Like the way Tony always saves the last slice of pizza for you. The way he keeps an extra pair of your favorite sunglasses in his car because he knows you always forget yours. The way he always seems to position himself between you and any potential threat—even if the "threat" is just a pushy journalist or an overenthusiastic fan.

And then there are the looks.

The ones that last just a little too long. The ones where he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. The ones that feel different.

The realization creeps up on you slowly, like a shadow stretching in the late afternoon sun.

You like him.

No—you’ve liked him. Probably for a while now. You were just too stubborn, too careful, too scared to admit it.

And Tony—oh, Tony has known for a long time.

It’s in the way he looks at you, like he’s just waiting for you to catch up. Like he’s been patient, so damn patient, but he’s not going to wait forever.

But you don’t know how to cross that line. Not when the whole world is watching. Not when your job, your life, everything is so tangled up with him.

So you try to act normal.

The cameras catch every single slip-up.

Like the time you’re standing beside him at a press event, and someone asks a question about his playboy lifestyle.

He laughs, playing it up for the cameras. “You know me, I’m a man of many talents.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Most of which involve ignoring my carefully planned schedule.”

He turns to you, smirking. “See? This is why I keep her around. She keeps me humble.”

The reporter grins. “Y/N, what’s the secret to handling Tony Stark?”

You glance at him, and for a split second, you forget about the cameras. Forget about the audience.

“He’s not as much of a handful as people think,” you say, voice quieter, more honest than you mean it to be.

Tony blinks, and for the first time in a long time, he actually looks surprised.

The internet notices.

"DID YOU SEE HIS FACE WHEN SHE SAID THAT?? Bro was not expecting her to be SWEET."

"‘He’s not as much of a handful as people think’ MA’AM. MA’AM. ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH HIM??"

"I swear to god Tony is just waiting for her to admit it at this point."

The dress is too much. That’s your first thought as you stare at yourself in the full-length mirror, smoothing your hands down the fabric. It’s expensive—of course, it is. Tony sent it over himself, and you’d bet good money that it cost more than your rent.

It’s stunning, undeniably so, hugging in all the right places, the deep color making your skin glow under the soft lighting of your bedroom. Your makeup is flawless, your hair styled perfectly, and for once, you don’t look like Tony Stark’s overworked assistant.

You look like a woman on the arm of a billionaire.

Which, technically, you are.

Just for tonight.

It’s not that unusual for Tony to bring you to events, but tonight is different. There’s no work agenda, no schedule to maintain. For this one night, you’re not his assistant—you’re his date.

The word lingers in your mind, foreign but not unwelcome.

There’s a knock at your door.

“You decent?” Tony’s voice is light, teasing, but when you open the door, he just stops.

His mouth parts slightly as his gaze sweeps over you, lingering at your exposed collarbone, the way the dress clings to your curves. For once, he’s silent, and you think that might be the most shocking part.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

Tony blinks, then clears his throat, smoothing a hand down the front of his sleek, tailored suit. “Yep. Nope. I was prepared for this. I am handling this just fine.”

You fight back a smile. “You sure?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, stepping back so you can follow him. “Just casually rethinking all my life choices and trying to figure out how I got lucky enough to have you on my arm tonight.”

Your heart does something stupid in your chest, but you roll your eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Stark.”

He smirks. “Worth a shot.”

The drive to the event is smooth, the car sleek and comfortable, but your nerves kick in the second you see the flashing lights ahead, the crowd of reporters, the sea of cameras waiting.

Tony notices.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice warm and steady beside you. “You look incredible. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

You exhale, forcing yourself to nod. “Right. Just another night.”

“Exactly,” he says. “Except this time, when they ask me who I’m with, I get to say you.”

Before you can overthink it, the door opens, and suddenly, you’re stepping onto the red carpet with Tony Stark’s hand resting at the small of your back. The flashes are blinding, the noise overwhelming, but Tony guides you through it with practiced ease, nodding and smirking at the cameras like he was born for this.

Reporters immediately start shouting questions.

“Tony! Who’s your date tonight?”

“Y/N, how does it feel to be on Stark’s arm instead of his payroll?”

“Why her, Tony? Out of all the women in the world, why did you choose your assistant?”

Tony grins, pulling you just a little closer. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says, his tone dripping with amusement. “Some secrets are just for me.”

Your face burns, and you’re grateful when you’re ushered forward, past the press and into the venue. The inside is just as extravagant as expected—glittering chandeliers, champagne flowing, a sea of celebrities dressed to impress.

And, of course, that’s when it happens.

The actor is objectively handsome—tall, broad-shouldered, a charming smile that probably makes half the world swoon. You recognize him immediately, a famous action star, one of the many guests mingling at the event.

And for some reason, he’s interested in you.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he says, his gaze sweeping over you in obvious appreciation. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I would have remembered.”

You offer a polite smile, feeling Tony shift beside you. “Y/N,” you say, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Y/N,” he repeats, his own smile widening as he takes your hand. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Tony’s grip on his champagne flute tightens.

You catch the slight tick in his jaw, the way his entire posture stiffens. Oh. Oh, this is interesting.

The actor keeps talking, asking about your work, throwing in more compliments than necessary, and you can feel Tony practically vibrating beside you.

And then—just to push it a little—you laugh at something the actor says, placing a hand on his arm.

It’s nothing. Completely innocent.

But Tony clears his throat sharply. “Hey, buddy,” he says, voice light but just a little too loud. “You mind if I borrow my date for a second?”

The emphasis is unmistakable.

The actor, blissfully unaware of the silent tantrum Tony is throwing, just grins and nods. “Of course. It was a pleasure, Y/N.”

Tony is already pulling you away before you can respond.

He doesn’t stop until you’re outside, away from the crowd, in a quiet balcony area overlooking the city lights.

You turn to him, crossing your arms. “Are you jealous, Stark?”

He scoffs. “Me? Jealous? Please.”

You step closer, tilting your head. “You sure?”

He huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I didn’t love watching that guy drool all over you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Because?”

He meets your gaze, and suddenly, all the teasing, all the bravado—everything—falls away.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Or at least, I want you to be.”

Your breath catches.

Tony exhales, running a hand down his face. “I know I joke around a lot, and I know I’m a lot to deal with, but I need you to know that this—us—it’s not a game to me. It never has been.”

Your heart is pounding.

He takes a step closer, his voice softer now. “I’ve been in love with you for a while, Y/N. And I know it took you a little longer to get there, but…” His lips twitch up. “You’re here now. Right?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m here.”

And then his hands are on your waist, pulling you against him, and your arms are wrapping around his neck, and then—

He kisses you.

It’s slow at first, careful, like he’s savoring it, but then you make a small noise against his lips, and suddenly, the restraint snaps. His hands tighten, his lips moving against yours with something deeper, more desperate, more real than anything you’ve ever known.

When you finally break apart, your forehead rests against his, your breath mingling.

“Wow,” you murmur.

Tony chuckles, his fingers brushing against your jaw. “Yeah. Wow.”

And then—

“Oh. Oh.”

You freeze.

Tony groans, turning to find one of the cameramen standing there, eyes wide.

“Are you serious?” Tony grits out.

The guy winces. “I—I swear, I wasn’t trying to film that—I just—okay, yeah, the cameras got everything.”

Tony sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “Of course they did.”

You stare at him for a moment, then—

You start laughing.

Tony blinks at you. “Are you—are you seriously laughing right now?”

You nod, still giggling. “It’s just—of course this happens to us.”

Tony shakes his head, but a smirk tugs at his lips. “Guess the secret’s out, huh?”

You grin, reaching for his hand. “Guess so.”

And honestly?

You don’t mind one bit.

The internet explodes.

The second the episode drops, social media ignites like someone threw gasoline on an open flame. The clip of you and Tony kissing—your whispered words, his confession, the way he pulls you in like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered—spreads like wildfire.

"I’M SCREAMING. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL."

"The way Tony looked at her BEFORE the kiss? He’s been GONE for her. Absolutely down bad."

"We all knew it. We KNEW it. But seeing it happen is just chef’s kiss perfection."

"'You’re mine. Or at least, I want you to be.' That’s it. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. I need a Tony Stark in my life."

"I can’t believe the cameras caught this. The way they got lost in each other? They weren’t even thinking about the cameras. That’s REAL."

"How do I file a lawsuit for emotional damage? I was NOT prepared."

Memes flood the timeline. Screenshots of Tony’s jealous expression when the actor flirted with you. Edits of your kiss set to dramatic music. Slow-motion compilations of every single time Tony had looked at you that way throughout the show.

The fans had always speculated, always hoped, but this? This is confirmation. And they are obsessed.

Of course, there are reactions from the media too. News outlets pick up the story immediately.

“Billionaire Tony Stark Off the Market—Confirms Romance with Longtime Assistant”

“The Stark Reality’s Latest Episode Features a Moment No One Expected—But Everyone Wanted”

“From Work Partners to Life Partners—The Love Story of Tony Stark and Y/N”

And through it all, Tony is thriving.

Because of course, he is.

At first, you don’t know what to expect from him. If he’s going to act differently now that the world knows. If he’s going to keep things professional in front of the cameras or tone down the way he touches you, the way he teases.

Nope.

If anything, he gets worse.

The next time the cameras are on, Tony makes absolutely no attempt to be subtle about the fact that you’re his now.

Like the moment in the kitchen when you’re making coffee, and he walks in, shirtless, hair still messy from sleep.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You tense for half a second, eyes flicking to the camera set up on the counter. “Tony—”

“What?” he hums, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I can’t say good morning to my girlfriend?”

Your face heats. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

The internet LOSES IT.

"TONY CASUALLY SHOWING UP SHIRTLESS TO CUDDLE HER?? I’M IN SHAMBLES."

"They’re acting like a real couple now. This is NOT a drill."

"Petition to make sure Tony is shirtless in every episode from now on."

Or the time you’re sitting on the couch, working on your tablet, and Tony just flops down, draping himself across your lap.

“Tony,” you sigh, adjusting your grip on the tablet. “I’m working.”

He looks up at you with that damn smirk. “I’m cuddling. Way more important.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still love me.”

Your lips twitch, but you refuse to indulge him. “Debatable.”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, you wound me.”

The cameras catch it all—the way you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair despite your protests, the way he practically purrs under your touch, the way you smile just a little when you think no one is looking.

They eat it up.

"HIM LAYING IN HER LAP. THIS IS PEAK ROMANCE."

"You’re telling me Tony Stark went from billionaire playboy to a man who begs for cuddles? I LOVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT."

"The way she plays it cool but is clearly obsessed with him? Relatable."

It’s not just the cuddling. It’s the stolen kisses, the lingering touches, the casual intimacy of a couple that has been circling each other for years and is finally allowed to have each other.

And Tony? Tony is having the time of his life.

He lives to fluster you on camera.

Like when you’re organizing his schedule in the office, completely focused, and he suddenly leans in, whispering in your ear, “You looked really good in my bed this morning.”

You choke on absolutely nothing. “Tony—”

“What?” He’s grinning, utterly unrepentant. “Just making an observation.”

You shove a folder at him. “Sign this before I kill you.”

His laughter follows you down the hall.

"THE WAY SHE CHOKED. HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING."

"Did he just CONFIRM they sleep together? Sir, have mercy."

"Tony Stark is officially the clingiest boyfriend in existence, and I respect that."

Despite the teasing, despite the relentless public scrutiny, it’s good.

Better than you expected.

The realization hits you on a slow morning, when the sun is barely up and your body is still heavy with sleep.

You don’t even think as you roll out of bed, stretching lazily before heading toward the kitchen for coffee. The floor is cool against your bare feet, the oversized shirt you’re wearing—Tony’s, of course—falling mid-thigh. Your hair is a mess, your eyes half-closed, and you let out a soft yawn as you step into the kitchen.

And then—

“Oh. Oh.”

It’s the cameraman again. The same poor guy who accidentally caught your first kiss with Tony.

You blink at him. He blinks at you.

There’s a beat of silence before it clicks in your sleepy brain.

“Shit.”

You spin on your heel, all but sprinting back to the bedroom.

Tony is still sprawled across the bed, barely awake, his hair sticking up in every direction. He cracks one eye open as you dive under the covers, groaning.

“Uh… good morning?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You grab a pillow and shove your face into it. “I forgot about the cameras.”

There’s a pause. Then, a rustling of sheets as Tony shifts closer, draping an arm over your back. “Okay… and?”

You groan. “I walked out there wearing just your shirt.”

Silence. Then—

Tony cackles.

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. “This is not funny.”

“This is hilarious,” he corrects, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Damn. I wish I’d seen it.”

You smack his chest. “Focus, Tony! That footage is out there.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t air.”

But the incident sticks with you.

Because the truth is, you and Tony don’t have much privacy anymore.

The show has been fun—chaotic, ridiculous, but fun. And yet, it’s always there. The cameras catch everything—the teasing, the bickering, the moments when Tony pulls you into his lap just because he can now, the late nights spent tangled up in each other, and even the mornings when you wake up to find him watching you with something terrifyingly soft in his eyes.

Some moments are meant to be just for you.

And that’s when you know.

It’s time to end The Stark Reality.

Tony doesn’t even hesitate when you bring it up.

“Done,” he says easily, lacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s wrap it up.”

There’s a finality to it that makes your chest ache. The show has been his, in a way—one of his crazy ideas, something he threw himself into because he loves the attention, the spotlight. But he’s willing to let it go.

For you.

The last episode airs a week later.

And of course, Tony makes sure it goes out with a bang.

The final scene is classic Tony. He’s sitting on the couch, arms draped over the back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” he begins, looking straight into the camera. “This is it. The end of The Stark Reality.”

He pauses, like he’s waiting for dramatic effect.

“Or is it?”

You, sitting beside him, roll your eyes. “Tony.”

“What?” He gestures vaguely. “I’m just saying. Maybe the next time you see us, it’ll be in the documentary about our wedding.”

Your soul leaves your body.

The internet erupts.

"WEDDING?? HELLO?? THEY’VE BEEN DATING FOR TWO MONTHS??"

"TONY STARK, YOU CANNOT JUST DROP THAT AND LEAVE."

"Blink twice if you need help, Y/N."

And it doesn’t stop there.

“Or,” Tony continues, completely unfazed by your scandalized expression, “maybe another season of The Stark Reality… with our kids.”

You choke on air. “Tony.”

“Hey,” he says, throwing his hands up. “People love a good family reality show. Gotta give the fans what they want.”

The show ends with you smacking him with a pillow as he cackles.

"TONY, STOP PLAYING WITH MY EMOTIONS."

"IS SHE PREGNANT?? IS THIS A HINT?? I NEED ANSWERS."

"Manifesting a Stark wedding and mini Starks immediately."

The reaction is insane.

Theories explode overnight. People analyze everything—the way Tony said our wedding, the way he casually mentioned kids, the way you covered your face in embarrassment but didn’t deny anything.

Some are convinced you’re already engaged. Others think you’re secretly pregnant. A few believe Tony is just being Tony—chaotic, dramatic, and completely unserious.

But you know better.

Because when the cameras stop rolling, when it’s just you and him curled up in bed that night, he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple.

“Y’know,” he murmurs, “I was kinda serious.”

You shift, tilting your head to look at him. “About what?”

He smirks. “Marrying you. The kids. The whole thing.”

Your breath catches. “Tony—”

“I know, I know,” he says, waving a hand. “It’s only been two months. But let’s be real, sweetheart. This thing between us?” His fingers trace absent circles on your back. “It’s been happening for years.”

You bite your lip, your heart pounding.

“Just… something to think about,” he says, voice softer now. “No pressure.”

And you realize—he means it.

Tony Stark, the man who once ran from commitment like it was a ticking bomb, is ready for this.

For you.

You press a kiss to his jaw, your chest warm with something terrifyingly close to forever.

And for the first time, the cameras aren’t there to capture it.

Just the way it should be.

part 2 anyone ?

[numberoneredriotfan]

Just wanted to put some of my favorite shots from Wiege here since I'm so not normal

THIS IS CANON THEY GOT MARRIED AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND HYUNA WAS ALIVE YUP THAT IS TOTALLY WHAT HAPPENED MM NO DOOMED TOXIC HETERO IN THIS HOUSEHOLD.

Okay but seriously this is such a beautiful frame and the implication that they get to live happily in another life... ough... my heart...

Sua...

SUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

I wonder if this implies that originally Mizi was supposed to wear the white dress and Sua was supposed to wear the black one. It would make sense, since white feels more like a Mizi color than it does Sua and vice Vera. But that's just me speculating. Anyway, Mizisua crumbs my beloved <3

I love this frame because it shows the brief moments of happiness the kids experienced in their horrible situation. Or perhaps the childhood bliss and ignorance to what they would face when they grew up. Moments of fleeting happiness that we as the audience know could never last forever. Fuck.

I just thought this frame was silly. Those silly goobers. I miss them so much :')

OUGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY. Real though if I saw Hyuna I would have the same reaction.

The difference in their expressions here...

Mf quit smiling like that I'm trying to hate you/j

And then... yeah. Also, would like to point out-

His album cover... Vivinos you sick son of a bitch.

Honestly, Wiege might be my favorite music video so far. It was wonderfully made, the animation was just stunning, the song was obviously a banger but the orchestra during that one sequence was just. Incredible. Overall it was amazing and heart wrenching, as expected from Alien stage.

Anyway! Can't wait to see Mizi's crash out!!

[koyagifs]

𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭

pairing: hongjoong x reader au: idol | establish relationship genre: fluff word count: 820 words summary: hongjoong wanted nothing more then to introduce you as his girlfriend. What better way then to have you tour with him and perform in the states with his group. warning(s): some swearing

You stood at your placemark, nerves striking your body as your stylist was doing some fishing touches on you. Unbeknownst to the crowd that is screaming for your boyfriend and his bandmates. As the stage manager gave your cue, you grabbed ahold of your microphone tightly as you heard the melody begin.

As the first notes of the song echoed through the arena, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. The crowd's roar intensified, and you could feel their energy pulsating through the air. Hongjoong and his bandmates were just about to make their entrance, and you knew this was your moment.

The lights dimmed slightly, spotlighting you as you stepped forward. The crowd went wild, chanting your name mixed with Hongjoong’s. You glanced at the stage, where he stood, radiating charisma in his signature outfit, eyes sparkling with excitement as he caught your gaze. A warm smile spread across his face, making your nerves ease a bit.

" How are we doing LA!" You yelled into the microphone, the cheers echoing in the stadium. Walking towards Hongjoong, just like it was at practice.

As the music surged, you joined in, your voice blending seamlessly with theirs, filling the arena with an electrifying harmony. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you felt a rush of exhilaration wash over you. You moved in sync with the rhythm, pouring your heart into the performance. Every note and every word felt like an expression of love, not just for the song but for the bond you shared with Hongjoong and his band. As you shared the stage, you could see their energy and passion reflected in the faces of the fans, amplifying your excitement.

As the song came to an end, Hongjoong was quick to pull you into a passionate kiss, causing the crowd to cheer louder than ever. The kiss felt electric, sending a wave of warmth through you as you melted into his embrace. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the world around you fading away, leaving just the two of you suspended in that perfect instant. The cheers of the crowd echoed like a heartbeat, thrumming in sync with your own.

When Hongjoong finally pulled away, his eyes sparkled with mischief and affection. “How was that for a surprise?” he teased, his breath warm against your cheek.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the exhilaration still coursing through your veins.

“A showstopper! I think you just set the bar high for our next performance,” you replied, glancing at the fans, who were still cheering wildly.

Their excitement only fueled your own, making the moment feel even more magical.

“Good! I want them to remember this night,” he said, grinning. “Let’s give them one more round!”

With renewed energy, you both turned back to the audience, arms raised, inviting them to join in. The music kicked back in, and you launched into the next song with fervor, the bond between you and Hongjoong palpable on stage.

The roar of applause and cheers followed you as you and Hongjoong stepped back, hands still intertwined. The energy in the arena felt electric, a living testament to the connection you had just shared with the audience.

As you bowed deeply, you took a moment to absorb the atmosphere—the lights flashing, the sea of fan banners waving, and the warmth of love radiating from every corner. Blowing kisses to the crowd, you felt a rush of gratitude, knowing how much their support meant to you and the band.

With one last wave, you turned to Hongjoong, who was beaming with pride. “That was incredible!” you exclaimed, excitement bubbling inside you.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off so well!” he replied, his eyes sparkling. “The crowd was amazing!”

As you both made your way backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you were met with cheers and high-fives from the crew and fellow band members. It felt like a family, a tight-knit group celebrating a successful performance.

“Hey, we have to do this again!” one of the dancers exclaimed, grinning widely. “You two were on fire out there!”

You laughed, glancing at Hongjoong, who was still riding the high of the performance. “I’m down for it if he is!” you said, nudging him playfully.

“Absolutely! This was just the beginning,” Hongjoong replied, his excitement infectious.

As you all celebrated together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night would linger in your heart forever. Not just for the performance itself but for the bond you shared with Hongjoong and the moments that made it all worthwhile.

As the buzz of the show faded and the after-party began, you knew that this was just one of many unforgettable memories to come. With a heart full of joy, you looked forward to what lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had Hongjoong by your side, every moment would be special.

[heavensbeehall]

Letter from Donald Sutherland to director Gary Ross, after reading the script for "The Hunger Games"

Dear Gary Ross:  Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power?  Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned.   Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand.  Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then.   I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power.  How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc.  Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss.  Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew.   Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for. The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering. I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you. They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!

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Been thinking about this a lot, mostly in regards to his notions on power.

But it's also quiet cool that he basically predicted the plot of TBOSAS before it came out. Snow's obsessive tendencies. The way he thinks love makes him weak. How he sees Katniss as like himself.