#i still not over the interview and now this???
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poguelandiarafe · 2 days ago
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red carpet reveal | drew starkey
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pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader
warnings - none
summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.
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the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.
"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.
you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."
he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.
as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.
the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.
"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."
he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.
"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"
you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.
"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."
yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.
before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.
"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.
drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.
his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."
"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.
you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.
"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.
before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.
when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.
"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."
relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.
"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."
you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."
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amirasainz · 1 day ago
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I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
Big Brother to the Rescue
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The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.
She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.
Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”
Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”
Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”
Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”
“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”
Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”
Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”
Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”
---
Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.
“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”
“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.
A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”
“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”
Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”
“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”
Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.
---
Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”
Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.
“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”
Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.
Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”
Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.
“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”
---
As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.
“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”
“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”
Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”
“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”
Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”
By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.
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paigesluver · 3 days ago
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for me? | chapter_1
paige bueckers x fem reader
synopsis; you and paige share unspoken feelings for each other, resulting in an escalating tension that complicates your friendship and challenges your emotions
warnings; sexual tension, emotional conflict
hi hi! this is the first chapter and it took me so long to be happy with the outcome. i hope everyone enjoys it and let me know what you think!
Waking up at eight in the morning was part of your daily routine. As the director of the media team at UConn, you had a lot on your plate: ensuring everyone had their assignments for upcoming practices and games, approving various media, scheduling everything meticulously, and preparing for interviews and conferences. You loved the hustle. At just twenty-three, you were already one of the most dedicated directors, a title you’d earned after starting out as an interviewer and photographer.
After finishing your morning routine, you laced up your shoes, grabbed your keys, and tossed your laptop into your backpack. You gave your apartment a quick glance before locking the door and heading to your car. 
A few minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot of the basketball facility, you slid on your headphones and grabbed your key card to enter the building. Typically, you were the first one in, but as you passed the basketball court, you heard the unmistakable sound of squeaking sneakers. Curious, you paused and spotted a blonde ponytail in motion. You walked backward until you reached the glass windows, peering inside. There she was—Paige Bueckers, effortlessly sinking shots from way beyond the three-point line with the kind of ease most people could only dream of.
You walked back to the nearest door, slipped inside, and made your way to the court. As you approached, Paige’s voice rang out. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” she said, watching the ball swoosh through the net before turning to face you. 
“How did you even know it was me?” you asked, tilting your head with a smile. 
“You’re the only one crazy enough to be here this early,” she said, chuckling. “And look who’s here.” She pointed at you with a smirk. 
“You’re here, aren’t you?” you shot back. “Touche,” Paige said while you laughed, shaking your head as you jogged over to meet her. “You really have a thing for calling me out.”
Paige shrugged, giving you a playful wink. “Hey, someone has to keep you on your toes.”
You exchanged a quick dap, but before you could fully pull away, Paige wrapped her arms around your waist in a sudden hug. The warmth of her caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stood there, soaking it in.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, though still full of that familiar playfulness.
You chuckled softly. “Alright, you got me. I missed you too.”
She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, her mischievous grin back in place. “So, what’s the plan? Are you ready to show me up on the court, or are you just going to stand around being all cute?”
You glanced down at your watch. “As much as I’d love to stay and shoot hoops with you, I’ve got a million things to do today.”
“Right,” Paige said with an exaggerated eye roll. “The director’s got to direct. You’ve got all that important work to do, don’t you?”
“I do,” you said, feigning seriousness. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it back later. Might even grab some footage of you practicing... just because.”
Paige raised an eyebrow and shot you a teasing look. “Oh, so I’m your muse now? Better get my best side.”
“Always,” you replied with a smirk. “But honestly, every side’s the best side.”
She laughed, tossing her head back, her ponytail swaying. “Smooth talker. Alright, director, go do your thing or whatever.”
You waved as you turned to head out. “I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much.”
As you walked toward your office, the light in your chest made it hard to wipe the grin off your face. Not just because of the work that lay ahead, but because you’d been lucky enough to get a little piece of something special every time you spent time with Paige.
You settled into your office, finally diving into the mountain of emails that had piled up overnight. The routine of work—scheduling, approving media, prepping for upcoming games—helped keep your mind from wandering too much. You focused on the tasks at hand, pushing away any stray thoughts of the court, of Paige, of the way her laugh echoed in your mind long after she was gone.
The hours passed, and your stomach rumbled around noon, reminding you that you’d barely eaten. You grabbed a protein bar from your drawer and got back to work, responding to emails and crossing off one to-do after another. Between finalizing the schedule for an upcoming game and reviewing media coverage, you barely noticed the time slipping by.
Around 2 p.m., your phone buzzed on the desk. You reached for it absently, expecting another work-related message. Instead, it was a text from Kaia: hey, want to hang out tonight? maybe grab dinner or watch something?
You stared at the message for a long moment, your finger hovering over the screen. Kaia had been sweet to you, and you liked her—really liked her—but things had felt different since that night at the bar. That night with Paige. The tension that had simmered between you two, that casual teasing... it had unsettled you in a way you hadn’t expected.
You couldn’t deny it any longer: something was shifting between you and Paige, and you couldn’t ignore it. And yet, here was Kaia, reaching out with the kind of ease you wished you could feel.
But you knew you couldn’t go out with her tonight—not with the feelings you were trying to suppress, not with the way your mind kept circling back to Paige. You didn’t want to lead Kaia on when your heart wasn’t entirely in it. And you definitely didn’t want to be unfair to her. She deserves someone who could give her their full attention, not someone who was tangled up in confusion.
You set the phone down without replying, forcing yourself to focus back on the work in front of you. But the knot in your stomach remained. You weren’t sure if it was guilt for ignoring Kaia’s invitation or the unresolved tension that still lingered in your chest every time you thought about Paige.
The clock ticked on, and you tried to push both thoughts aside as you finished up the last of your tasks. Just as you were about to close your laptop, your door creaked open.
"Hey, director," Paige’s voice called out, light and familiar. You looked up, and there she was, leaning against the doorframe with that grin of hers—the one that always made your pulse pick up a little too fast.
“Busy?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she stepped inside.
You smiled, leaning back in your chair. "Not at the moment. What’s up?"
Paige walked further into the room, the scent of something delicious filling the air as she set the bag down on your desk. “Thought I’d check in on you. And, y’know, bring you something to eat. You’ve been working through lunch again, haven’t you?”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Too late, already did,” Paige grinned, pulling out a Caesar salad wrap, crispy fries, and your favorite passion fruit juice. “You’ve been stuck here all morning, so I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “This is very sweet of you P, I was just starting to get hungry.”
“Figured as much,” she said, flopping down in the chair across from you. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, making sure you don’t work yourself into the ground.”
You laughed, opening the bag and grabbing the wrap. “You’re spoiling me now, my favorite from Gansett’s? How’d you know?”
Paige leaned back, resting her arms behind her head casually. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, you think I wouldn’t know where one of your favorite meals is from?”
“Not a lot of people pay attention to things like that” You laughed, shaking your head.
Paige’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well good thing I’m not just anybody.”
You felt a strange flutter at her words, a mix of admiration and something else that was harder to pin down. She wasn’t wrong—she had a way of making you feel like she really saw you, and that made you feel… something more than just friends. You quickly brushed the thought aside, not sure you were ready to unpack it.
Paige laughed, but this time it was softer, like she caught the shift in the air between you two. She held your gaze a moment longer, her expression a little more serious than usual. “So… you’re still sticking to that ‘all work, no play’ routine? No chance of you coming out and having some fun tonight?”
You paused, considering. There it was again, that casual invitation. The kind of offer you would normally take without thinking. But with everything that was swirling inside you—feelings you couldn’t even begin to sort through—you couldn’t bring yourself to say yes.
“Actually, I was supposed to meet up with Kaia later,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. A flicker of guilt washed over you. You hadn’t really planned anything with Kaia—you’d just ignored her text earlier. “But, uh, I think I’m going to go meet her after all. Just need to get out for a bit.”
Paige gave you a long look, her brow furrowing slightly. “Oh yeah? That’s a change. Haven’t seen you take a break in forever.”
You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, figured I could use one.”
Paige didn’t press it, but the air between you felt a little heavier. She stood up, brushing off the hem of her hoodie, and gave you a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, don’t let me keep you. But if you ever want to ditch the routine, you know where to find me.”
"Thanks," you said, your voice quieter than you meant. "Maybe next time."
Paige paused at the door, glancing back at you with a look that you couldn’t quite read. “Yeah. Maybe next time.”
You watched her walk out, her footsteps fading down the hallway, and a strange knot tightened in your stomach.
Kaia’s message was still there on your phone, waiting to be answered. You were going to meet up with her, but something about it felt a little off now. The weight of Paige’s words and the tension in the air lingered, but you pushed it all aside for the moment.
You grabbed your phone and typed out a quick response to Kaia: 
hey! dinner sounds good, is Latina Cantina cool with you?
You hit send and tossed your phone back on the desk, hoping dinner would help take your mind off everything.
A couple of hours passed since Paige had dropped by your office. You buried yourself in work, crossing off to-dos and reviewing media, but your thoughts kept flickering between the tasks at hand and your conversation with Paige. Before you knew it, late afternoon had rolled around, and practice time was approaching. You decided it was about time to head over to the court to get some footage of the team.
Grabbing your camera gear—lenses, extra batteries, and your bag—you made your way toward the gym. The familiar sounds of practice greeted you as you approached: the squeak of sneakers, the bounce of basketballs, and the low hum of players in motion.
When you reached the court, you immediately spotted Paige. She was in the middle of a drill, her blonde ponytail swinging as she drained shots from beyond the three-point line with ease. You smiled to yourself, knowing you'd be in for some good footage today.
You pushed open the door to the gym, which creaked slightly as it swung wide. Paige turned her head and, as soon as she saw you, her face lit up. She waved you over with a grin, clearly enjoying herself.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” she said, tossing the ball up into the air, making another effortless shot. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."
You chuckled and adjusted your camera, walking over to her. “Busy doing responsible adult things, you know how it is,” you said with a smirk. “But I’m here now, and I’m ready to capture all your greatness.”
Paige shot you a teasing look. “Better get a good shot of me then,” she said, setting herself up for another shot. She launched the ball into the air, sinking it with ease. She turned toward you with a playful grin. “That’s one for the highlight reel, right?”
You snapped the picture, laughing. “Definitely.”
Paige ran to the other side of the court, getting back into position, and you quickly moved to adjust for the next shot. She continued to hit shot after shot, making it look effortless. With every successful basket, she’d glance back at you, pointing toward the camera as if to say, “That was for you.”
The entire team was in sync, their chemistry on full display as they went through drills, but Paige was in a class of her own. Her movements were smooth, controlled, and she made it all look easy. You kept snapping photos, capturing everything from her perfect form to her focused expressions.
After a few minutes, you decided to move around and get shots of the rest of the team. You greeted the players with high-fives and daps, snapping pictures as they got into their respective drills. Some of them flashed quick smiles for the camera, while others focused on their practice. You even took a moment to greet the coaches, giving them a wave and a nod before heading back to catch more action. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you could feel the energy in the air as the team worked together.
About an hour or two into practice, you decided to start wrapping up. The team had been working hard, and it seemed like a good time to pack up for the day. You took a last round of shots, then slung your camera bag over your shoulder.
As you headed for the door, Paige caught your eye once more, flashing that signature grin. “Don’t forget about me now,” she teased, tossing the ball to a teammate. “Make sure you get my best angles next time.”
You waved at her as you walked toward the exit. “I’ve got plenty of footage. Don’t worry,” you called back with a grin, feeling the weight of your day settling in.
As you stepped out of the gym, the sounds of practice fading behind you, you made your way to your car. You had done what you came to do, and now it was time to head home and get ready for your dinner with Kaia. The evening was calling, and though your mind was still half on the court, you knew you needed to focus on the night ahead.
Your phone buzzed again as you walked toward the exit. It was Kaia: “Latina Cantina works for me, see you there?”
You typed out a quick response, feeling the familiar pull of anticipation as you headed for your car.
“perfect, see you later.”
With everything wrapped up at the gym, the rest of your day fell into place. You were ready to unwind for the night, but that lingering feeling—thoughts of Paige—seemed to float just under the surface. It was hard to shake them off, but for now, you’d focus on getting ready for your date with Kaia. Tonight was about having fun.
You drove home, the familiar sights of the city passing by without much thought. The conversation with Kaia lingered, but so did Paige’s smile and the way her eyes had met yours with that unspoken hint of something more. You shook it off and focused on the night ahead. Kaia was sweet, and you liked her. You were determined to be present for her.
At home, you tossed your bag on the couch and started going through your closet. You wanted to look good without overthinking it. Something casual, but still special. You settled on a fitted jersey, leather pants, and your black Amina Muaddi heels. Comfortable yet stylish. After a quick glance in the mirror, you felt good enough to head out.
Before leaving, you took a couple of mirror pics, capturing the outfit just right. You checked your phone, made sure you had everything, and grabbed your keys.
Your phone buzzed again—it was a message from Kaia: i’m already here, can’t wait to see you!
You smiled, the familiar excitement bubbling up. You shot her a quick reply: omw now, see you soon, pretty girl.
The drive to Latina Cantina was short, and you found a spot right in front. Walking in, the warm scent of spices and sizzling food hit you instantly. You spotted Kaia almost immediately—sitting at a corner booth, scrolling through her phone, her easy smile lighting up when she saw you.
"Hey, you made it!" she said as she stood up, giving you a friendly hug. "Glad we could finally catch up."
You smiled, the tension from earlier slipping away. "Yeah, me too. It's been too long."
Kaia looked great, dressed in a soft, oversized sweater in a pastel shade, paired with a sleek mini skirt and chunky white sneakers. She completed the look with a simple silver necklace. The outfit was relaxed yet chic, and she pulled it off effortlessly. "You look amazing," you said, sitting down across from her.
"Thanks," Kaia smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I figured I’d dress up a little, hope I didn’t overdo it."
"Not at all," you said, grinning.
The night went smoothly—good food, easy conversation, and laughter. Kaia was warm and attentive, and though there were moments when your mind briefly wandered back to the gym, you quickly refocused. You didn’t want to spoil the night.
As you finished up dinner, Kaia leaned across the table, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "So, what's been going on with you lately? You’ve been a little... distracted."
You hesitated, your thoughts drifting back to Paige, but before you could respond, Kaia smiled playfully. "I’m just glad we’re hanging out tonight, no distractions, right?"
You chuckled, grateful for her easy-going nature. "Yeah, no distractions tonight. Just us."
The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. Kaia’s warmth and lightheartedness made it easy to be present. You talked about funny stories from work, what you both had been up to lately, and random bits of pop culture.
As the meal wound down, Kaia leaned back in her seat, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "So, what’s next on the agenda for you? I know you’ve got a lot going on."
You took a sip of your drink, considering. "Honestly? I just needed a night off. No work, no stress—just hanging out."
"Well, I’m glad you’re here," she said, her tone sincere. "We should do this more often."
You nodded, feeling a flicker of warmth. "Definitely. I’d like that."
For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the noise of the restaurant buzzing around you. There was something about this moment, about Kaia’s easy presence, that felt... right. You smiled, grateful for her patience, for how effortlessly she seemed to make everything feel comfortable.
The waiter brought the check, and after a few moments of back and forth, you split the bill. You both stood up, and Kaia pulled on her jacket as you followed her out of the booth. Walking toward the door, Kaia brushed her shoulder against yours, a playful grin on her face. "Same time next week?" she teased.
"Sounds like a plan," you said, your voice a little lighter than when you first walked in.
Outside, the cool night air greeted you both as you walked to your cars. Kaia stopped, turning to face you. “I had a really great time tonight. Thank you for coming out.”
You smiled. "Of course. I had a great time too. See you soon?"
She nodded, taking a step back. "Definitely."
As you drove home, the warmth of the evening stayed with you—Kaia’s laugh, her playful teasing, and the easy flow of conversation. But beneath that warmth, the thought of Paige lingered. The way she had looked at you earlier, the invitation to meet at the bar—it all kept running through your mind. You wondered what it would have been like if you’d gone.
You pulled into your apartment's garage, parking your car and taking a moment to sit in the quiet of the space. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, but you couldn’t shake the pull toward Paige.
You glanced at your phone, the text to Kaia letting her know you made it home safely, but still no message from Paige. You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the phone, lost in thought. Without second-guessing, you grabbed your keys, unlocked the door, and stepped out of the car.
You ordered an Uber almost instinctively. There was no hesitation—this felt like the right thing to do.
The Uber ride flew by, the hum of the city at night drowning out your thoughts. The anticipation grew as you neared the bar. When you arrived, the noise hit you immediately—laughter, the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation. You made your way toward the bar, scanning the room for the bartender.
As you were about to order, you felt a presence behind you. "Amaretto sour, right?" Paige said, her tone playful yet confident.
You turned, surprised but smiling. "Exactly."
She ordered for you, adding, “And I’ll take a Shirley Temple. Can’t have you drinking alone.” Her hand brushed against your lower back as she guided you toward the team’s table. The warmth of it sent a rush through you, and you followed her, completely at ease.
As you reached the table, her teammates greeted you. Paige pulled out a chair and sat next to you, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"Glad you made it," she said softly, leaning in closer.
You smiled and settled in beside her. The night felt lighter now, the tension you’d carried throughout the evening melting away.
“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately,” you said, your voice quieter. “Been trying to figure some things out.”
Paige didn’t push further, but there was a knowing look in her eyes, like she understood. “It’s okay. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Sometimes you just have to let things play out, you know?”
You nodded, her words sinking in. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
The music in the background seemed to swell for a moment, and for a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Paige’s gaze softened, and she leaned in a little closer, her shoulder brushing yours. It wasn’t obvious, but the closeness carried an undeniable charge, as if there was something deeper at play than mere friendly conversation.
“You’re a good person,” she said, the sincerity in her voice catching you off guard. “I can tell you’ve got a lot going on, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you came tonight.”
The words hit you harder than you expected, and you found yourself smiling, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the way Paige made everything feel easier, but in that moment, you felt a little more at peace.
“Thanks, Paige. That means a lot,” you said, your voice quieter now, more real than it had been all night.
She smiled, her eyes meeting yours. “Anytime.”
The night stretched on, but something had shifted. Whatever was lingering between you and Paige, whatever unspoken thing had been hanging in the air, it was finally starting to feel a little clearer. And for the first time that night, you were ready to let yourself just... be.
The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the laughter of the bar around you becoming a distant hum as you and Paige found yourselves slipping into a quieter, more secluded area. The sounds of clinking glasses and chatter faded, leaving only the space between the two of you, thick with unspoken words and tension.
Paige stood close now, closer than before. The small distance that had once felt comfortable had dwindled to almost nothing, and you could feel the heat radiating off her, her presence impossible to ignore. Her eyes locked onto yours, an unreadable expression playing across her face as if she was waiting for something—waiting for you, or perhaps waiting for the right moment to make the first move.
You could feel her body heat, the subtle shift of her posture, her breath just a little quicker than usual. You couldn’t remember when exactly the conversation had stopped, but now, words felt unnecessary. All that was left was the tension—the tension that had been building from the moment you walked into the bar and locked eyes. It was suffocating, thrilling, and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the attraction, but you couldn’t deny it anymore. The pull was undeniable.
Your hand brushed against hers in the dim light, a touch so fleeting but loaded with meaning. Her gaze dropped to where your fingers hovered for a moment, then back up to your eyes, an almost imperceptible flicker of something—desire, maybe—flickering in her expression.
The air between you grew heavier, the silence stretching, each second pulling you closer to a decision, to a shift in the unspoken tension. But before either of you could take that final step, Paige moved first. She leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, her touch gentle yet full of intention. It was a quiet moment that spoke louder than words ever could, the space between you both crackling with a charged energy that had been building all night. Her lips were warm against yours, hesitant at first, like she was testing the waters, but it only took a heartbeat for you to feel the pull between you deepen.
You didn’t hesitate. Your hand reached up instinctively to rest on her waist, drawing her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more assured. Her lips parted slightly, just enough for your breaths to mingle, and you could feel her pulse quicken, her body pressing softly against yours. Everything around you seemed to fade—there was only the two of you, suspended in this moment where nothing else mattered but the way your lips moved together.
The world outside ceased to exist, the hum of the city and the dim glow of the streetlights blurring into the background. Her fingers found their way to your jaw, tracing along your skin with a featherlight touch, anchoring the both of you in this stolen moment. Each brush of her lips told a story—of longing, of unspoken feelings finally set free, of a connection too strong to deny.
The air between you seemed to hum with its own rhythm, matching the steady beat of your heart as you tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss. Her breath hitched, and you could feel her relax into you, her body molding effortlessly against yours as though she’d always belonged there. The taste of her lingered, sweet and intoxicating, leaving you lightheaded yet desperate for more.
When the kiss broke, it wasn’t abrupt but gentle, like the tide pulling back from the shore. Her forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft cadence of your shared breathing. Her eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable, yet shimmering with something unspoken—something fragile but unmistakably real.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loudly would shatter the intimacy of the moment. Her confession hung in the air between you, a quiet truth that made your chest tighten in the best possible way.
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loonylupinblack3 · 14 hours ago
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Wife?
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar accidently slips up in an interview and calls you something you're not.... yet
Warnings: none :)
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: how is this man my favourite driver and i haven't written about him yet?
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You were in the Mclaren garage, earmuffs firmly in place as your eyes followed the bright orange car on track. The remnants of the crash between Sainz and Perez could still be seen, your heart giving a nervous squeeze whenever your gaze slid to it. 
You could feel cameras watching you, people’s eyes darting to you every now and then, wanting to see your reaction whenever something happened involving Oscar. For the most part you composed yourself well when watching your boyfriend race, keeping your panic, fear, and nausea to yourself. You were well practised in the art of keeping a steady facade, what with being an actress and having people stare at you wherever you went.
Still, you couldn’t help the little gasps that escaped you each time they passed turn 20 and Charles got dangerously close in the space between turn 20 and turn 1. Each time Charles got closer and closer to overtaking Oscar, and each time you were watching with bated breath wondering if this was the time he’d finally take your boyfriend’s position.
Yet he never did, and you watched with an overwhelming joy as Oscar finished the Azerbaijan Grand Prix first, the black and white chequered flag telling the world of your boyfriend's achievement. You laughed, clapping your hands, beaming at the screen in front of you. Cheers rose up from the people around you, guests and workers alike celebrating the success of the team.
You hurried out of the garage, walking the now familiar path to the crowd waiting underneath the podium, where you’d stay to watch Oscar retrieve his trophy. You’d known his last win hadn’t been perfect, and your celebrations together had been dampened slightly. Today though, you knew you’d be celebrating. You could already see your boyfriend’s telltale smile as he walked onto the first place podium, a restrained smile that looked polite to anyone else but to you confessed his excitement and pride.
You cheered with everyone else as he received his trophy, throwing his arm in the air triumphantly as his gaze searched the crowd. When he found you his smile widened just a tad. Still polite as ever but softer. His eyes were also telling you everything the distance between you wouldn’t allow. That he loved you. That he was so happy. That he felt like he meant something, which of course he did.
The next few hours were very busy for your boyfriend. He was the man of the hour, the person everyone wanted to talk to and congratulate. You’d had a passing kiss and hug, murmuring how proud you were of him before he was whisked away again, but you didn’t mind. You let these people have their precious few hours with him because after that he was all yours.
Oscar, on the other hand, wasn’t happy with it. He’d just made an incredible achievement in his life, something he’d been working for since he was a kid, and he wanted to celebrate with you, not reporters and interviewers.
So when he spotted you walking with Alex, Charles’ girlfriend, he took his chance, grabbing your hand and dragging you over with him. You gave him a confused smile. “What’re you doing?”
He shrugged. “Wanted to be with you. If I have to do this I want you to do it with me too.”
The reporter in front of him cooed, as did the surrounding people listening in. You gave him a smile, not minding one bit. Your boyfriend had such a soft, loving side the media didn’t get to see much, so you were glad they were finally discovering what a sweetheart Oscar was.
And that’s how you found yourself attending race briefings and interviews with your boyfriend. You had to admit, it was a little boring, and sometimes you couldn’t keep up with the conversation, your limited Formula One knowledge failing you during speedy discussions on cars and strategies. Still, you could see how happier Oscar was with you there, his hand resting comfortably on your waist, which was why you pasted on a smile and endured it.
It was nearing the end of the briefings, freedom so close you could almost taste it, as Oscar finished up with the last couple of interviews. You were both ready to leave, the sky having turned dark long ago, and tiredness made way to a faulty filter in Oscar’s case.
“And you’ve got your girlfriend here,” the interviewer said, a young girl around your age, 23 or 24. “I bet she’s proud of you.”
Oscar turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows in question and you let a giddy smile cross your face. “‘Course I am. Couldn’t be prouder.”
Oscar, preening at your compliments, snuck a quick kiss on your cheek, much to the entertainment of the interviewer, talking of how wonderful you seemed together.
“Yeah, she’s amazing,” Oscar agreed. One thing you knew he loved nearly as much as racing was talking about you. “I’m incredibly lucky to her have her as my wife- uh, I mean-”
Your eyes went wide, as did the interviewer’s, her mouth dropping slightly. “Wife? Did we miss something?”
“Did I miss something?” you murmured to him, though you were not at all upset. Quite the contrary, actually, fighting the large smile threatening to spread across your face.
“No, no, I didn’t mean—uh, she’s not, not yet—uh, let’s move on—” Oscar was stumbling over his words, a rare sight, and you were biting your lip hard because you felt grinning like a maniac would not help him at the moment.
But he was going to receive many words later.
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You received applause as you entered the stage, waving your hand at the audience as you sat down in the lush armchair, facing Jimmy Fallon behind his desk. You always loved going on his show, good friends with Jimmy on screen and off.
He gave you a warm welcome, speaking of your new movie that released a couple months ago and the launching of your new perfume, which you were quite excited about and more than happy to talk with Jimmy about. 
“And, I’m sorry, I just have to bring this up,” Jimmy started, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We all saw Oscar accidentally call you his wife on live TV after that big win. Did he get a talking-to for that slip-up?”
The audience laughed and you with them, remembering Oscar’s flushed face when you got back to the hotel room, his rambled explanation and apology. You also remembered what had followed, which is what spurred you to give a sly smile to Jimmy – “There was definitely some talking” – and take out your left hand you’d been sitting on and flash it to the audience.
More specifically, the jewel sitting on your ring finger.
The crowd gasped and applauded, the noise in the room reaching the limit, as Jimmy covered his mouth in shock before clapping along, congratulating you. You were full on grinning now, drinking in everyone’s happiness that only elevated your own.
“So next time Oscar refers to you as his wife it won’t be a slip-up, huh?” Jimmy asked brightly.
You grinned, nodding. “Next time he calls me his wife it’ll be because I am.”
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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
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heyyy can we get some fem dom nicholas chavez fics? oml i’ve been OBSESSED with your writing your amazinggg!!
Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader
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summary— at a red carpet event, you and Nicholas share an intimate moment as you're interviewed about your relationship dynamic, with you taking control in a sensual and dominant way, while Nicholas surrenders to your command. after the event, you show him who’s really in control.
warnings— sub!nicholas, strip tease, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.
a/n— thank you and enjoy though this was rushed <3 i see you guys’ requests, working on them each, it’ll probably take me a bit as finals week is approaching.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
The evening was extravagant, the flashing lights of cameras following your every move as you and Nicholas made your grand entrance. The air around you seemed to hum with anticipation—l, your black and white two-piece outfit, paired with a delicate black bow in your hair, had garnered its fair share of admiring glances. Nicholas, standing confidently beside you in his perfectly tailored black and white suit, looked every bit the heartthrob the world adored. His arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, his posture poised as he smiled at the flashing cameras.
You could practically feel the envy in the crowd, the whispering excitement as they gawked at the perfect couple that was you two.
It was the interview part that caught you both off guard. The interviewer, a well-dressed woman with an effortless charm, approached you with a grin.
“So, Nicholas,” she began, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “We all know that the internet is absolutely thirsty over you. One question that keeps coming up—are you the dominant type?” She paused and glanced at you with a playful look.
You couldn’t help but laugh, could she not have asked about your individual acting careers? Everyone in the room had been curious about your relationship, especially given the dynamic between you and Nicholas. You both knew the truth—he was far from dominant. But the playful question hung in the air as you looked up at Nicholas, meeting his eyes with that sly smile you reserved for moments like this.
You raised an eyebrow. “We both know the answer to that,” you said with a teasing tone, a glimmer of mischief in your voice. “He’s anything but dominant.”
Nicholas chuckled, brushing his hand through his fluffy hair as he glanced at you with a soft, almost apologetic smile. “Oh, come on,” he said, laughing lightly, “I think I could be the dominant one.”
You couldn’t help but smile even wider. There it was—the playful bravado. You knew he loved to tease, but you also knew the truth. He was yours, in every way that mattered. The cameras clicked around you both, their flashing lights capturing the fleeting moment.
The interviewer pressed further, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, Nicholas, do you let Y/N take charge, or is there more to it?”
You caught the subtle shift in his expression, a momentary flicker of uncertainty. You knew he was always more comfortable when the roles were clearly defined. He loved when you took control, and he relished the moments where you had him exactly where you wanted him. Still, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
“Of course, I let her take charge sometimes,” he said with a wink, his voice low and confident. “But let’s just say I know how to hold my own.”
Your eyes never left his as you felt a familiar, heated amusement rise within you. You didn’t say anything immediately, instead giving him a knowing, sly smile that only he could interpret. The interview wrapped up soon after, but you could feel the sexual tension between you growing.
Later, as you both slipped into the car to head back to the hotel, Nicholas glanced at you from the corner of his eye, clearly still processing the teasing exchange.
“So,” you teased, turning your body slightly toward him as you sat beside him, “You think you’re the dominant one now, huh?”
He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I was just messing with them, you know I’m not really dominant.” His voice trailed off.
Once you arrived at the hotel, you opened the door to your suite—and the atmosphere inside caught you both off guard. The room was bathed in deep red lighting, and a large stripper pole gleamed near the bed. There was a certain sultry vibe in the air that only intensified the electricity between you two.
Nicholas stood frozen at the door, his mouth slightly agape as he looked around the room. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Did you plan all this?”
You took a step forward, a slow, deliberate movement that drew his gaze toward you. A mischievous smile curled at your lips. “What do you think?” you purred. “You might’ve said you’re dominant, but let's see if you can prove it.”
Before he could respond, you walked toward him, your heels clicking against the floor as you reached for his tie. With a firm tug, you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You’re not in control here tonight.”
You pushed him onto the bed with a gentle but firm push, straddling his lap as you let your hands roam to the music playing softly in the background. The sultry beat of Rihanna’s song, Skin, filled the room, setting the tone.
Nicholas’ breath hitched as you began your slow strip tease, starting with a deliberate sway of your hips. He watched, utterly transfixed, his eyes darkening as you spun on the pole with ease, twisting and turning, performing tricks that had him loosening his tie. You could see the tension building in his body, his legs shifting as he fought to maintain control, but his growing arousal was unmistakable.
You caught the sight of his pants tightening as he got hard, a clear sign that the heat between you was almost unbearable. He groaned, his voice rough, “Is it getting hotter in here, or is it just me?” His fingers were trembling as he tugged at his shirt, clearly trying to ease the pressure.
You stopped for a moment, letting your body hover just above his, your fingers trailing lightly over his chest as you leaned in to whisper, “Tell me, who’s the dominant one now?”
He looked up at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in quick gasps. “You,” he muttered, his voice husky, “All you, baby.”
A thrill ran through you at the words, knowing that, no matter what he said in front of the cameras, tonight, he was yours. You kissed him hard, your body pressing fully against his as you let the power shift completely into your hands.
The dim, red lighting in the room created a sultry ambiance, and Nicholas’ breath was shallow as you slowly pulled him closer to the edge of the bed. He was already so lost in you, his eyes dark and desperate, watching your every move with a mixture of awe and hunger.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough as he reached for you, his fingers desperate to pull you closer.
You smiled at him, hands moving to gently guide his hands away, a quiet but firm gesture that told him exactly who was in control tonight. “I know,” you whispered, “But tonight, I’m the one in charge.”
He groaned softly at the command in your voice, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and desire. You slowly helped him out of his remaining clothes, taking your time with every movement, savoring the way his breath hitched at each touch. When he was finally naked, your hands hovered over his cock, soft, slow movements that made his skin burn with need.
His hands were on you again, fingers trailing up your thighs, but you stopped him with a soft chuckle. “Not yet,” you teased, your hands moving to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pulled his face toward yours for a deep, hungry kiss.
As your lips met, you could feel him giving in completely, his mouth opening to you as he groaned softly. The kiss was slow, a burn that heated your body with every passing second. You deepened it, your hands still tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you let him feel just how much you wanted him.
“You love when I take control, don’t you?” you murmured against his lips, the words a low tease. “I can see it in your eyes. You love when I tell you what to do.”
Nicholas moaned softly, his head tipping back slightly as his hands roamed over you. “Yes,” he breathed. “I love it. I love when you take me however you want.”
His words made something surge through you leaving your pussy wet. You moved away from him slightly, watching as his eyes followed you, filled with anticipation. You stood before him, feeling powerful, feeling every inch of control settle over you.
“On your knees,” you commanded softly, voice low and commanding.
Without hesitation, Nicholas obeyed, moving to kneel before you. His gaze was filled with admiration, the way he looked at you making your pulse race. He gazed up at you, his lips parted as he waited for your next move.
Slowly, you guided his head to your wet pussy, fingers lightly grazing his chin, guiding him with gentle pressure. “Show me how much you want to please me,” you whispered.
He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner legs, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth hovered close, his breath warm against your skin.
As he kissed his way up your inner thighs, you let out a soft sigh, your hands still tangled in his hair. “That’s it,” you praised, feeling a surge of power as you guided him. “Just like that. Take your time.”
Nicholas’ lips moved with such care, such reverence, making you feel every moment as he took his time to explore. His lips were soft but insistent as he kissed higher, closer to your pussy, teasing you just enough to drive you wild. You felt him smile against your skin, the gentle pressure of his mouth making you gasp, his hands gripping your hips as he worked his way to where you needed him most.
“Good boy,” you whispered. The praise was just enough to make him groan in response, his lips and hands eager to please. He followed your every direction, his tongue worshipful as he explored every inch of you, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.
As he sucked on your clit, the heat in the room seemed to grow, the intensity of your his movements leaving you breathless. You could feel the desire building within you, the power of knowing how much he craved your control.
“You’re so good at this, baby.”
His response was a needy, almost desperate kiss to your pussy, his mouth moving against you, lips hot and insistent. You felt the rush, the way he shifted beneath you, eager to please, and as your hands tangled in his hair and you moved your pussy on his face, you reached your peak with your juices squirting all over him.
Once you’d rode out your high, the feeling having your eyes roll back, you pulled him up by his hair. His breath caught in his chest, his body trembling with a mix of want and admiration as he gazed at you, eyes clouded with desire.
You straddled him, your pussy hovering above his hard, leaking cock. His hands were immediately on your waist, fingers digging in your brown skin slightly as he looked up at you, the need in his eyes undeniable.
You leaned down, your lips brushing over his ear as you whispered, “You love when I just have you at my mercy, don’t you baby?”
Nicholas moaned softly, his voice hushed, shaky with desire. “Yes, I love it. I need you to guide me. I love knowing that you're in control.”
You smiled at his words, the power rush of knowing how deeply he craved this moment, this surrender, filling you. “Good boy,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
With that, you sat on his dick and moved slowly at first, teasing him, feeling the heat between you build. His hands moved to your chest, gently cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. You gasped, your hips grinding down harder, the connection between you deepening with each movement.
“Tell me again,” you whispered, breathless as you moved against him, “Who’s in control here?”
His answer came in a low groan, his hands gripping you tighter, pulling you closer. “You,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You’re in control, baby. Always.”
You felt him buck beneath you, his hips rising to slam into you, but you controlled the rhythm, keeping him on edge, teasing him as you moved on his cock with slow, deliberate force. His breath was ragged now, hands trying to pull you closer, but you kept the power in your hands.
“Please,” he begged softly, eyes filled with a mix of need and reverence. “Don’t fucking stop.”
You couldn’t help but smile, the power of the moment settling over you. “You want to beg for me, Nick?” you teased, your fingers lightly grazing his lips as you leaned in closer. “I love hearing you beg.”
He nodded quickly, his voice desperate. “Please baby, I want to feel you cum on my cock. I need you. I love it when you’re in control.”
The way he said it, so raw and so honest—sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. You felt his need radiating from him with the way he was throbbing inside you, but you held back, taking your time, savoring every moment as you slid up and down. You leaned down, kissing him softly, the gentle, teasing nature of the kiss only heightening the tension between you.
You weren’t ready to let go yet. Not until you’d taken him to the edge and back again.
His touch made you weak, his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, guiding you to move on his cock as he kissed his way down your neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. You moaned softly, a rush of heat flooding you. His name escaped your lips, soft and needy, as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
“You're so good to me,” you whispered against his ear, your voice seductive. “So perfect for me.”
He responded with a low, throaty moan, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. “And you're so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his lips brushing against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”
You kissed him deeply, your lips soft but demanding, tasting him as you took your time. His hands slid up your back, pressing you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal intensity.
“Do you want to cum for me?” you asked, your lips hovering near his ear, your voice low and teasing. “Tell me you want it.”
He moaned in response, his hands trembling as they traced down your sides. “Please,” he begged, his voice strained with need. “Let me cum. I can’t hold back any longer.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Beg me,” you said, your voice steady. “I want to hear you beg for it.”
Nicholas’ eyes locked with yours, full of longing. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. “Please,” he said again, more desperately this time, “I need to feel you. I want to let go inside you. Please let me.”
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, your hands sliding down to his chest as you leaned closer, kissing his lips softly. “You’ve been so good, Nick,” you murmured, your voice thick with praise. “You deserve it. You’ve been perfect for me.”
He let out a low groan at your words, the sound of it like music to your ears. His hands moved to your back again, pulling you even closer. “I’m yours,” he breathed against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “All yours. Always.”
“That’s right,” you said, your voice steady, filled with power. "You’re all mine, baby. So perfect for me."
With that, you squirted on his cock, soaking the hotel sheets, feeling him respond to you immediately, his grip on you tightening as he spurted his load inside you. As he did, he whispered words that sent a rush of heat through your body. “You’re even more perfect than anything else in this world,” he breathed, his voice rough with satisfaction.
The two of you collapsed onto the bed, bodies tangled together, your breaths mingling in the air around you. He kissed you all over, gentle and tender, his lips trailing along your jaw, down to your neck, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.
When his lips finally met yours again, soft and lingering, he pulled away slightly, his breath still ragged. “Round two?” he asked, his voice full of playful desire. “The shower?”
You smiled, running your hands through his hair, your body still humming with the aftermath of the moment. “You want me again that quickly?” you teased.
His eyes sparkled with mischief and hunger. “Always. I can’t get enough of you.”
You kissed him again, feeling the heat between you reignite. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” you said, your tone playful yet commanding.
He smiled, his hands already pulling you up, ready to take you to the shower where you could take him however you wanted again.
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sheree-says-stuff · 2 days ago
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LONG LOST MCR INTERVIEW!!!! RARE!!!!! '06
Interviewer: *laughing* "Alright, welcome to this very candid interview with Frank Iero and Gerard Way. Guys, thank you for joining us today!"
**Frank Iero:** "Yeah, no problem! Always a pleasure to be here."
**Gerard Way:** *eyes glued to iPad screen* "Mm-hmm, sure." *quiet chuckle*
**Interviewer:** *glances at Gerard, then back to Frank* "So Frank, we hear you've developed a bit of an admiration for someone—or, um, something—called 'Hawk Tuah Girl'? Care to explain?"
**Frank Iero:** *grinning* "Oh, yeah, Hawk Tuah Girl. She's honestly been on my mind a lot lately. I know it sounds a little random, but there's something about her that's so... powerful, you know? She’s like, this unfiltered force of nature, just breaking through expectations and being unapologetically herself. I love that. I mean, we could all use a little more of that energy."
**Gerard Way:** *barely looking up from his iPad* "Yeah, but does Hawk Tuah Girl ever, like... flush toilets or something?" *snickers to himself*
**Interviewer:** *laughs nervously* "Uhh, Gerard, not exactly the direction I was thinking we were going in, but, Frank, back to Hawk Tuah Girl—what is it about her that stands out to you?"
**Frank Iero:** "Right, right. So, Hawk Tuah Girl, for me, she represents this kind of freedom—like, the freedom to just exist and be a little weird, without needing validation from anyone else. It’s a vibe. A vibe I’m very much here for. Like, if I was ever stuck in a bad place, I think I could look to her as a reminder that being yourself is enough."
**Gerard Way:** *snorts and glances over at Frank* "So, basically, she’s your spirit animal now?"
**Frank Iero:** *laughs* "Yeah, I guess you could say that. She’s like my punk rock superhero."
**Gerard Way:** *muttering under his breath* "I need a superhero who knows how to hit the 'skip' button on Skibidi Toilet."
**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Gerard, are you... watching *Skibidi Toilet* right now?"
**Gerard Way:** *holds up iPad, showing a clip from *Skibidi Toilet* where a dancing character is wildly out of sync with the music* "Uh, yeah. It’s... art."
**Frank Iero:** *grins mischievously* "See, Gerard's whole thing is balancing deep, introspective moments with... *Skibidi Toilet*."
**Gerard Way:** *shrugs* "It’s a balance. You can’t take yourself too seriously all the time, right? Gotta laugh at the weird stuff."
**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Fair enough! So, Frank, it’s safe to say that Hawk Tuah Girl brings a lot of meaning into your life. Would you say she’s changed your perspective on your own art?"
**Frank Iero:** "Oh, definitely. I think, just like her, I’ve been learning to embrace the messiness, the weirdness. The world doesn’t need another ‘perfect’ version of anything. It needs something that feels real. And Hawk Tuah Girl, man, she’s real. She’s like a reminder to just... make noise and have fun while doing it."
**Gerard Way:** *nodding sagely* "Yeah, and *Skibidi Toilet* reminds me that anything can be art if you believe in it hard enough." *pauses* "Also, I think I might need more toilet humor in my life after this interview."
**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Well, there you have it, folks. Frank Iero finds inspiration in Hawk Tuah Girl, and Gerard... well, Gerard is watching *Skibidi Toilet*. Thank you both for such a delightful and slightly chaotic chat today."
**Frank Iero:** "Anytime. But seriously, if you haven’t checked out Hawk Tuah Girl, you need to. It’s a vibe."
**Gerard Way:** *still transfixed by his iPad* "Yeah... it’s all about the vibe." *mutters* "I’m not skipping this one."
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moonandstarshyuck · 19 hours ago
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"Always."
lando norris x gn!bf!reader
notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).
For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.
Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).
The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”
And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).
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They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.
Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.
The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.
It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.
But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.
What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?
After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.
That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him.  They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’
The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.
Thunder's Owner
Lan’s streaming with you rn?
Sent at 7:48 AM.
After a few seconds, Max replied.
Maximilian
Yeah he’s on voice-only.
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Gonna do something about him?
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:
Thunder's Owner
Yeah
Sent 7:52 AM.
Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.
Sent 7:52 AM.
Maximilian
Lol.
Sent 7:52 AM.
I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.
Sent 7:53 AM.
Thunder's Owner
Thx
Sent 7:54 AM.
They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls.  He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.
For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.
As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.
“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.
“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.
“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”
Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.
“Angel, what are you—”
“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”
Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”
They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.
The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.
“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.
The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.
Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.
LN
I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Thunder’s watching me right now.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
I forgot how menacing he could be.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
*Picture attached.*
Lol.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’
Sent at 8:06 AM.
LN
Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him
Sent at 8:07 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
They told me before they did it
Sent at 8:07 AM.
I just let them. Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
LN
Helpful. What if they were trying to  kill me?
Sent at 8:08 AM.
They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.
Sent at 8:09 AM.
Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.
A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.
He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.
When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.
His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.
As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”
“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.
And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.
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author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline
comments & reblogs appreciated
and i made the dividers :)
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mattluvr · 1 day ago
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CEO!matt, a concept.
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💸 what if. . . matt sturniolo was CEO of a company?
at the grand old age of 21, matt sturniolo is the world’s youngest CEO, having inherited his father’s finance company in light of his untimely retirement.
he doesn’t complain; matt has a team of seniors to make his decisions for him, the only thing he insists on chipping in on every year being the annual christmas party. which, naturally, is infamous. it’s what most of the company’s budget gets blown on after all.
in his third year as the owner of sturniolo finances, income in the billions as the company thrived, matt threw the biggest, loudest, craziest christmas party of what he was sure was history, the entire floor of a fancy hotel packed with employees.
and some stragglers. including you.
your brother had dragged you along, overly excited about the first sturniolo finances christmas party of his employment, and had swiftly got drunk and left you to stand like a lemon by the drinks table. which is where matt found you, words slurring from one too many tequila shots, appointing you his newest secretary. one of the only decisions he’s made for the company.
and today is the day you start your new role, which matt obviously can’t remember offering you, but lets you sit at the desk outside his office, head still pounding from the party over a week ago.
“are you sure i gave you this job?” he mutters, running a hand over his face. you nod, tucking a loose strand of your bun behind your ear, hoping you’re still retaining the sophisticated look you tried to construct this morning when getting ready.
“mhm. at that party.”
“yeah, but i did a lot of things at that party.” matt says with a grimace. “like swing from a chandelier…”
you laugh, reminded of the last image you saw before you left the hotel, supporting a tipsy brother on your hip, matt dangling from the structure above you with one arm, hair messy and shirt loose. “that was pretty funny. and impressive.”
“thank you. but not the point.” he frowns, folding his arms, trying to act serious. “i don’t even think i’ve given you any paperwork to fill out. shit, i’ve not even interviewed you.”
“well, you’re the CEO, aren’t you? you can just interview me now.”
matt furrows his brows again, eyes darting to his office behind him and eventually gives in, opening the door for you with a shrug. he often doesn’t interact with any of the people he employs, the whole process too mindnumbingly boring for him, but is now starting to realise why drunk him even offered you a job position in the first place.
you’re fucking unreal, mini skirt a tad too short, shirt just slightly too low cut, and matt is drinking it all in. professionally. of course. he clears his throat, dragging his eyes back to your face with a soft blush as he gestures to the empty room. “take a seat.”
you smirk at him over your shoulder, sitting down heavily in the armchair facing matt’s desk, your skirt riding up as you cross your legs, thighs on display. matt rolls his neck; you’re trying to kill him, he swears. he follows you over nevertheless, sitting opposite and offering you a polite smile.
when your dimple shows in reply, matt doesn’t even think about the interview. “yeah, i don’t know why i did all that. you’re hired.”
“but…?”
matt holds out a hand. he knows this is a bad decision, hiring based off of physical attraction only, but that’s the last thing on his mind. he just wants you out before he blows a load in his underwear, semi poking him each time he shifts.
“you can start tomorrow morning, 8am. i’ll email the paperwork down to reception.”
shocked, you slowly stand up, and matt leans forwards, concealing a groan into his hand. “uh, well, thanks. i’ll… see you tomorrow.”
“mhm.” matt nods, grinning weakly. “yep, tomorrow.”
and then you’re gone, leaving matt alone with his thoughts. fuck. hiring you? he’s screwed.
taglist. . . ( @mattslolita, @aelinslegend, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot, @conspiracy-ash, @emely9274 ) is open!
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s4bbatical · 1 day ago
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Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 3. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)
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Part 1. Part 2. Warnings: profanities, consumption of alcohol and cigarette use. hints of sex! age gap (reader!22) enjoy!
━━━━━━☆━━━━━━
You're at your desk when you hear the news, the entire office in commotion as Cameron, Tony and Declan appear after the wrap of Declan's newest episode.
"Rupert said yes?" You gasp, smacking Seb's arm. "Fucking brilliant, man." You say, grinning. "Declan's gonna take a chunk out of his neck, it's gonna be grand." You look over at Declan, who's clinking glasses with Tony in his office.
"I'm just grateful our efforts aren't going to waste. Christ knows how much time we put into this sleazy bastard." Seb grumbles, crossing his arms.
"Why you look so down on yourself Seb?" You ask, standing up straight from your previous position of leaning against the oak desk.
"I don't know, y/n. Maybe you can figure that out yourself." He says bluntly, walking away towards the common space.
Your jaw drops slightly, throwing your arms up. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself, grabbing the back of your neck. You had been turning down Seb's advances on you due to your clandestine actions with Declan, not realizing how much of an impact it really had on the ginger. You knew he liked you a little more than just friends, you just hoped he'd let go of it sooner than later.
As far as you were concerned, still no one knew about you and Declan. You tried to stay focused on your work and not overthink it much, although it was on your mind every minute of your waking hours. Not telling anyone, especially your new best friend Taggie, was taking a toll on you. How does one tell another that they find their dad very attractive, and also have been banging him in his office after hours? It wasn't an easy feat for anyone. You tried to remind yourself that it was okay to have a little fun, as long as no one else knew about it.
You jump slightly as you notice Declan standing by your desk, straightening out your blazer as you nod towards him. "Declan, hi. Congratulations on securing the interview with Rupert." You say, giving him a smile.
"Thanks, y/n. You've been a great help with it all, I wouldn't be as confident as I am without you." He says, a smirk growing on his face. "Would you mind doing overtime on Saturday? To help me with additional flawed research?" He asks, now properly smiling.
"Ah, I would, but your daughter has asked me to accompany her in catering for Baddingham's falconery that day. I'm sorry." You admit, shrugging.
"That's alright. Will you be coming to our home for dinner afterwards, then?" He asks.
You grin, tapping your chin in thought satirically. "Yeah, I guess so." You say, letting out a small laugh.
"Great, see you then." He says, a light tap on your bottom as he walks away.
You gasp lightly, looking around hastily to ensure no one saw. "Unbelievable." You whisper to yourself, sitting down at your desk.
-
As Saturday rolls around, you find yourself bright and early at The Priory, attempting to hold back your yawns as you prepare cheese and fruit platters with Taggie.
"Can I ask you something?" Taggie asks, rinsing a bowl of grapes.
"Course, yeah. What's up?" You say, slicing wedges of brie.
"Do you think my dad should go through with interviewing Rupert?" She inquires timidly, putting the bowl of grapes on the kitchen table.
"Rupert is an asshole. He deserves anything that is thrown at him." You say bitterly out of respect for your friend, and her father.
"Y/n, I don't think he should go through with it." Taggie says, meeting your eyes. "I'm afraid my father will ruin him." She whispers, frowning.
"Taggie," You start, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Where is this coming from?" You ask, worried about her concerns.
"I think Rupert isn't as horrible as everyone thinks he is. He sincerely apologized to me, and I can tell he wasn't just doing it out of spite for me or my father." She explains, sighing. "After you left before the party ended, we slow danced together and..." She trails off, seeming upset with herself. "We shouldn't've, I know. But there's something about him that isn't worth destroying him over." She finishes.
You furrow your brows and purse your lips. "I'm not the one to call the shots on this, Tags. You know that." You say.
"My father listens to you better than me, for some reason." She says, causing your breath to go still. "I don't know why, but I would like for you to try saying something." She pleas. "For me, y/n. Please."
You let out a deep sigh, letting go of your breath. "Fine, I will. Don't get mad if he goes through with it, though." You mumble, reorganizing the assembly of cheeses.
"Thank you." Taggie smiles, giving you a side hug.
"Course." You whisper, it was the least you could do considering what secrets you've withheld from her already.
"Taggie!" Declan yells, entering the kitchen. He is taken aback by our presence, perhaps not expecting you so early in the morning. "Y/n, hello." He smiles. "Have you seen my plaid shirt your mum put out to dry?" He asks his daughter.
"I folded it up in your dresser, dad." Taggie says, causing Declan to nod.
"Right, course. Thank you darling." He places a kiss on her head, secretly gliding his fingers across your lower back as he steps away. "See you girls later." He says, waving as he exits the kitchen.
"Why'd you look at my dad like that?" She queries, nudging you.
"Like what?" You say defensively.
"Like he was a piece of meat." She says, scoffing.
"Your dad's hot, that's not my fault. It's not like I'm doing anything." You exclaim, raising your hands.
"Good, you better not." She says jokingly, grinning at the banter between the two of you.
You laugh, trying to not frown at your inner thoughts.
Only if you knew, Taggie. Only if.
-
Declan is in the office, going through evidence against Rupert as he notices Charles Fairburn reorganizing his office. "Charles!" He says out of surprise.
"Oh, hello." Charles says. "I didn't expect to see anybody."
"I'm researching Campbell-Black and needed something from my office." He says, approaching Fairburn.
"I never thought I'd see the day when Tony Baddingham had Declan O'Hara doing his dirty work." The road of Baddingham's distaste for Campbell-Black is a long one, and quite complicated enough even for you to even know about.
"I have my own reasons for wanting to take that bastard down." Declan interjects.
"You know, in different circumstances, you and Rupert could've been friends." Charles says simply. "Both complicated, both stubborn, misunderstood." He jests, putting down office supplies on his new desk.
"Bollocks." Declan states. "What are you doing in on a Saturday?" He queries.
Charles clicks his tongue, "Moving offices ahead of my grand return." He says, now holding a clipboard. "Apparently, my recent coronary episode makes me a medical liability." He says, referring to the panic attack that happened on New Years. "Which is why Cameron Cook is now controller of programmes and I'm--"
"Head of Religious Broadcasting." Declan says, reading the new plaque on the door underneath Charles' name. He looks back and gives him a look of sympathy.
Charles scoffs. "I can't begrudge her too much. Climbing the greasy pole requires its own set of skills." He mumbles, sitting down. "Especially when the greasy pole in question, lives in Tony Baddingham's trousers." He says sarcastically. A moment of silence passes by.
"How's the heart?" Declan asks, redirecting the conversation.
Charles sighs. "Oh, you know, broken." He goes quiet for a moment. "How's the new journalist, Declan?" He asks, watching as Declan's face contorts into bewilderment.
"What'd you mean by that?" He asks, attempting to act confused by Fairburn's statement. Heat rose to his face as his heart began to race.
Charles gives him a weak smile before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what I saw at the New Year's Eve party. I was out in the garden and wasn't expecting to see you, especially with y/n." He says quietly, Declan staying dead silent. Fuck.
"I'm not telling anyone." Charles adds, seeing the worry in O'Hara's face. "Don't show Tony any weakness, Declan." He abruptly says. "Or this is what you get." He whispers sadly, referring to his new demoted office space.
Declan looks down for a moment, unable to find words as he slowly walks away. He looks back again at Charles Fairburn before he returns to his office, closing the door and running a hand through his dark curls.
Charles knew of Declan's dirty secret, but regardless of what assurance he is given, he has to keep it completely under wraps now. He has to be careful, and so do you.
He notices a folder on his desk, opening it to reveal a note from the sender mentioning of a phone call regarding Rupert Campbell-Black accompanied by a photo. He grins, his worries dissipating as more evidence has landed in his lap. He folds it up tightly, enclosing it in a new envelope with a devilish grin.
-
You find yourself back at The Priory with Taggie later that afternoon, your stomach unwell from seeing all the dead birds that day.
"God, it's astounding how they manage to eat and drink so much while killing those innocent creatures." You say, taking a leftover ham sandwich and taking a bite out of it.
Declan enters the house, returning after his time at the office. "Ah, how was the shoot?"
"Well, they killed loads of birds," You say, swallowing your food.
"But they liked my food." Taggie finishes the sentence for you. Declan chuckles. "Rupert stopped by." She adds, crossing her arms.
You watch in bemusement as Declan reacts poorly. You take another bite of your sandwich.
"Oh, Jesus Christ. Is there no place free of that man?" He exclaims, walking away.
Taggie furrows her brows, looking over at you to do something.
You sigh, taking the last bite of your sandwich as you follow her father into the other room. "I'll talk to him." You mumble to Taggie as you pass her.
After quickening your pace, you follow him into the master bedroom, where he begins unloading his blazer. "You shouldn't be so harsh on Rupert, y'know." You begin to say, closing the door behind you.
"And what makes you think you have any say in that?" Declan replies with an edge in his voice, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.
"Taggie's forgiven him, I think you can let it go-"
"Let it go?! Let go of the fact that he groped my daughter? That my own wife still wants to sleep with him even though he's a horrible fucking bastard?!" Declan yells, aggressively huffing on his cigarette.
"Look, I understand where you're coming from Declan, but this could backfire and then what happens to you, huh? What if he ends up burying you into the ground instead of the other way around?!" You try to explain, holding your place as Declan begins to undo his shirt, tossing it onto the bed. You stare at his torso as he breathes heavily in anger, his chest rising and falling. Time and place, time and place.
"He will not do any such thing." Declan mutters harshly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray atop his dresser. "You know that Charles Fairburn knows of us, huh?" He says, leaning against a bed post.
Your eyes widen, taken aback by his statement. "What? How?" You ask meekly, guilt mixed with fear rising up your throat from the pit of your stomach. "But no one saw us?" You whisper, beginning to pace back forth.
"Well he did." Declan states flatly. He grabs your arm and halts your movements. "He said he won't tell a soul, but this means we have to keep it controlled or this can no longer happen, y/n." He whispers firmly, staring into your eyes.
"I think I'd rather quit than stop whatever this is." You mumble, turning yourself completely towards Declan.
The two of you stare deeply at one another, Declan placing a hand on your cheek. "I need to control myself." He whispers, leaning in close enough to have his lips hover over yours.
"No one can see us now, Declan." You remind him.
-
The two of you come undone in multiple positions. You find yourself cuddled up beside Declan as he lights a cigarette, inhaling as he strokes your hair.
"Thanks for that, I needed a good fuck." You joke, closing your eyes as Declan hums.
"My pleasure." He grins, inhaling his cigarette once again.
"Wait, shit." You say, sitting up abruptly. Declan looks at you with confusion. "Taggie is still here, she must be concerned why it's taking so long." You say worriedly, getting out of the bed and retrieving your clothes.
Declan watches you with a smirk, his eyes trailing over your exposed body as you shimmy your underwear and jeans back on, following with your shirt.
You run over to Declan's side of the bed, pressing a firm kiss on his lips. "I'll see you for dinner, Mister O'Hara." You tease, smoothening your hair as you exit the grand master bedroom. He simply laughs, inhaling his cigarette.
You hurry down the hall, slowing down your pace as you look for Taggie.
"Tags?" You yell, eventually stumbling across Declan's study.
She had opened his file of evidence against Rupert, abruptly closing it when she hears you approach. "I-I was just looking through it, I'm sorry. Please don't tell my father." She says hastily, getting up from the desk chair.
"Taggie, relax. It's okay." You say, hoping nothing about your appearance gives away what you had been doing for the past half an hour. "I tried convincing him, I really did. He wouldn't budge, Tags." You admit, sighing. "Maybe you can warn Rupert, I don't know. I think your dad has more dirt on him than we know." You warn, running a hand through your hair.
"Maybe I should talk to him, then." Taggie says, beginning to walk past you.
"No-!" You say, grabbing her arm. She looks at you with confusion. "He seems exhausted, I think he needs to be left alone to be completely honest." You say, hoping Taggie would drop the whole thing for today.
"Alright, then." She says, your grasp loosening on her arm. "I'm gonna start making dinner, then. Care to help?" She asks, walking slowly out of the study.
"Always." You say with a smile, following Taggie out the door.
-
As the evening rolled around, you found yourself around the dining table with Taggie to your left, Maud and Caitlin on the other side as Declan sat at the head of the table.
"This food is incredible, Tag." Maud muses, taking another bite of the dish.
"It's y/n's recipe, actually." Taggie admits, smiling at you.
"Oh, y/n. Lovely job, then." Maud says, sending a smile towards you.
"Thanks Maud. It's my mom's favorite dish. I ate it a lot growing up." You say, taking a sip of wine.
"Hmm, American culture doesn't taste as bland as I thought, then." She remarks, taking another bite.
"Be nice, Maud." Declan warns, glaring at his wife.
"Actually, my mom's from Greece. It's Mediterranean, not American." You correct her, trying to hide a shit-faced grin behind your glass of wine.
Caitlin stifles a laugh, earning a light kick of the shin from Taggie.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Maud apologizes, clearly embarrassed.
"No, it's okay. I agree, American food is god awful." You assure her, taking a bite of your meal.
"So, what's this big interview you've announced on live television about?" Maud says, looking over at Declan.
"Ah, I'm interviewing Rupert on Valentine's Day." He says casually, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"That's it?" Maud persists, raising a brow.
"He wants to take him down, mum." Taggie interjects, Declan scoffing at the statement.
"I'm not doing anything that he doesn't deserve." He emphasizes, taking a sip of his glass.
"Declan, don't you think you're taking this a bit too far? They're calling you the Corinium Butcher, for god's sake." Maud exasperates, putting down her cutlery.
"I am doing the interview the way I want to and that is that!" He states firmly. "Now, can you all get off my arse about it and enjoy this lovely meal y/n and Taggie put together? Christ." He exclaims, picking up his fork and taking another bite out of his dish.
Everyone goes quiet, returning to their meals.
You feel a bit cold in the room, the peaks of your breasts hardening as you realize something dire-- you've left your bra in their bedroom.
You clear your throat, standing up. "I have to use the restroom, if you'll excuse me." You say, hurriedly exiting the room.
You make your way down the hall from the foyer towards the master bedroom, slowly opening the door and flicking on the overhead light as you scan the room hastily for your bra.
You get down on your knees, looking underneath the bed on the opposite side from the door. You see it just within arms reach, stretching your arm out as the door opens.
"What are you doing?" Maud says, causing you to smack your forehead against the bedframe, unable to grab ahold of your bra as you stand up hastily.
"I uh, Taggie was giving me a tour earlier and I thought I lost my ring in here. I was just trying to find it because I realized I lost it when I was going to the washroom." You lie out of your ass, smiling oddly at a very confused Maud.
"Oh, what does it look like?" She asks, not realizing this ring did not exist whatsoever.
"It's small, really small. Honestly it was super cheap it's not that big of a deal!" You force out, making your way towards the door. "Let me know if you find it though, it was from my mom." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm going to the washroom now."
You hastily exit the bedroom, leaving Maud behind as you run into the nearby washroom and close the door behind you. You panic as you stare at yourself in the mirror, whispering profanities to yourself. You wash your hands as if you had dirtied them with your actions, almost afraid to return to the table.
You take a deep breath and open the door, walking back out to the dining table as you practice breathing normally.
Maud had already returned to eating her meal, seeming disinterested in your bizarre behaviors from before.
"Is everything alright?" Declan asks you, referring to your tense aura now present in conversation.
"Yes, everything's fine." You say, taking a sip of your wine.
"Y/n was trying to find a ring she lost earlier in the master bedroom, maybe you can keep an eye out for it too." Maud says nonchalantly to Declan, whose face drops at the mention of you being in their bedroom.
"Is that so?" He asks, coughing slightly as he tries to swallow his food down. "That's a shame. I'll keep it in mind then."
You watch as Maud gives him a puzzled look, her eyes squinting at her husband with suspicion.
"Would anyone like dessert?" Taggie asks, standing up.
"Me!" You say abruptly, also getting up. "Let me help you with that!" You offer, following Taggie into the kitchen.
She suddenly stops right by the kitchen island, causing you to bump into her. "Something's going on with you y/n. You've been acting weird all day. Is everything alright?" Taggie asks, a look of concern upon her face as she grabs ahold of your hands.
"Sorry, I'm just stressed out about the whole Rupert ordeal." It wasn't a complete lie, ever since you landed this internship you've felt like putting your head in a door way and slamming the door repeatedly on it. You couldn't imagine how many grudges these Lords hold against each other, it would've been disputed in an instant if you were back at home.
"I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm sorry." Taggie says, sighing. "I tried getting Rupert to step down earlier at the falconery, but he wouldn't listen. He's convinced my father doesn't have the capability to take him down." She whispers, afraid of her father overhearing the two of you.
You quickly glance into the next room where Declan was speaking to Caitlin, Maud seeming very displeased in the middle. "I don't know if we have any more options, Tags. I think we have to let them go at it." You say remorsefully, looking back at her.
"I'm not giving up just yet." She says firmly, picking up a platter of desserts as you shake your head, bringing out another bottle of wine to share.
-
It was now Friday, February 14th. You and Seb were in mid conversation when Cameron Cook comes barreling down the office floor, yelling about needing coffee.
"You'd think the promotion would make her happy, but she's angrier than ever." You say, closing your folder. Your desk phone starts to ring.
"I'll get the coffee, you get the phone." Seb says, walking around from your shared cubicle.
"Hello, y/n y/l/n speaking." You say.
"Look, I'm going to make this very clear y/n." Maud says on the other line. "I know that you are seeing my husband." She says, causing your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.
You laugh breathlessly, looking around as you sit down, almost whispering into the phone. "What are you talking about?" You ask, your body beginning to sweat profusely.
Declan's wife has called you, at work, on the day of all god damn days, to confront you about your affairs.
"I found your bra underneath my bed when I was looking for something else." She says, almost sounding too calm for the circumstances she was speaking of. "I know I am one to talk, but I insist if you know any better, that you no longer see him. His work already keeps him away from our family, god forbid someone at The Corinium starts doing the same." She remarks, her tone never wavering.
Your jaw drops slightly, unable to find your words.
"Oh, and good luck tonight. Don't ruin my husband's career." She says, the line going dead.
You are left in dismay, slowly putting the phone back down on the hook. You look around your workspace once more in complete mortification.
"Oh god." You whisper to yourself, getting up to retrieve a cup of coffee to mask the fear building up inside. You couldn't fathom the audacity Maud O'Hara had to tell you to leave her husband be when she was trying to get with every other well-off man in the county.
All personal feelings aside, you knew you had to listen to her wishes in order to keep your job, and Declan's. It would be unfair to both parties if you kept this up.
You shakily pour the coffee pot into your mug, putting one cream and one sugar in after before stirring it with a spoon. You stare at the ground, unable to gather your thoughts up properly as Declan quickly walks past the kitchen with his focus on papers in his hands, taking a step back when he notices you standing idly.
"Y/n, what're doing just standing there?" He asks boastfully, causing you to jump and spill some coffee on your hand.
"Fuck," You whisper, wincing as you quickly run your hand under the cold tap.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Declan says, coming up beside you and placing his hand on yours. "Is your hand alright?"
You turn to face him, giving him a flat tone. "It's fine, thanks." You say, pulling away as you grab your coffee and step into the hallway. "I have work to do."
He grabs your arm. "What work? You've done it all already." He says, raising a brow. "Is everything alright?" He asks, his eyes full of concern.
"What? Haven't you heard the news?" You quip, staring at him with dread in your eyes. You hated yourself for developing feelings for Declan O'Hara. You were smarter than this, and to allow yourself to dig such an emotional hole was the last thing you needed for your brand-new career.
"Everything is fine, Mister O'Hara." You say, pulling your arm away from his grasp. His face drops when you refuse to use his first name. "Maybe you need to ask your wife the same question." You add bitterly, stepping away from him. His eyes widen at the mention of his wife.
"Elvis is about to enter the building." Seb says, him and Daysee both running down the hall past you two.
Declan looks you for a long, silent moment. "We'll discuss this later." He mutters, following them down the hall.
You close your eyes and sigh, walking away towards your desk.
-
You're now standing in the control room, biting your nails nervously as Daysee counts down Declan, now live broadcasting the interview. You exchange glances with Seb as Declan begins with mundane questions before hitting him with mildly offensive comments that will eventually snowball into something worse.
You cover your mouth as Declan brings up the topic of adultery, and how it must do Mr. Campbell-Black well for life within the Conservative Party.
"I'm sorry?" Rupert says with dismay.
"You know, sneaking around, lying, betrayal, sexual degeneracy." Declan lists nonchalantly, as if Rupert was born for such actions.
"Oh fuck." You mumble into your hand, Seb patting your shoulder with a sympathetic look.
"Remember, Declan's just doing his job." He reminds you.
"I'm no longer married." Rupert exclaims.
"Yeah, but you were, for six years! And yet throughout your marriage, your affairs were common knowledge." Declan states confidently, gesturing to the crowd. "I mean, one Gloucestershire peer has described you as 'rather a nasty virus that everyone's wife caught sooner or later.'" Declan reads off of a card.
"Well if you've seen his wife, it's definitely later." Rupert retorts towards the audience, causing everyone to laugh. Declan's jaw vividly tenses on camera.
You sigh putting your head in your hands. "Oh wow, that's great." You mumble to yourself.
"What a fucking arsehole." Seb mutters, crossing his arms.
"And that's the break in five..." Daysee begins counting down.
You nervously watch as Declan composes himself to announce the commercial break.
"That's time for break. When we return, who knows what Mister Campbell-Black might choose to share with us when we return." Declan says through a forced smile, looking directly at the camera. It felt like he was looking right at you.
"...and we're out." Daysee says.
"Thank fuck." You quickly exit the control room, needing to be elsewhere for the next three minutes. As you make your way through the halls, you run into Taggie.
"Taggie?" You say in a quizzical manner, causing her to turn and face you.
"Y/n, I'm here to talk to Rupert. Something's very wrong about this." She says urgently.
"Jesus, Taggie you can't-" You begin.
Rupert appears around the corner with his assistant. "Taggie, what are you doing here?" He asks her.
Taggie walks past you. "You need to go. Just walk out."
"Rupert, I advise you to not do that." You warn him.
Rupert laughs at you both. "Your father's not the first old socialist who's tried to catch me out." He reassures Taggie, putting his hand on her arm. "Whatever you're worried about, it's already out there."
"Taggie, you need leave-" You begin, tugging at her arm.
"No, I know him." Taggie says, ignoring you as she pulls away from your grasp. "He's saving the worst for later. When he wants something, he's ruthless." She warns him. "He'll do anything, I mean, he's-"
"He's just like you, Rupert." You say, pursing your lips.
"Exactly." Taggie says.
Cameron Cook appears, interrupting the conversation. "Minister, we need you back on set. The break's almost over." She directs Rupert, who keeps his gaze on you and Taggie.
"Listen to Miss Cook, Rupert. You have to go." You say.
"Just walk out of the building with me." Taggie interjects, pleading with her eyes.
"Minister!" Cameron snaps, glaring at Rupert.
"Screw this." You say, walking away from everyone. You return back to the control room, slamming the door behind you.
"What's going on?" Tony Baddingham asks, puffing on a cigar.
"Cameron has it under control." You simply say, returning to the corner with Seb and Daysee.
"What happened?" Seb asks quietly.
"Taggie's shown up to try and get Rupert to leave. She thinks Declan has more blackmail on him than we are aware of." You whisper, grabbing the back of your neck as you watch Daysee begin to count Declan back in.
"Where the fuck is he?" Tony says harshly, looking down through the viewing glass.
You hide your face behind your clipboard, unable to watch the scene about to unfold.
"Y/n look, Rupert's back." Seb says, tapping on your back to redirect your attention. You look over the clipboard at the monitors, watching Rupert Campbell-Black sit back down on the stage. Rupert begins to compare the interview to being back on the playing field.
"Seb, I don't have a good feeling about this." You say quietly, covering half your face with a clipboard.
"Just watch, relax." Seb whispers.
"It's an interview, there are no winners." Declan tells Rupert, who gives him a look.
"That's not true though, is it?" Rupert queries, looking towards the audience. "He wants to beat me." He exaggerates, giving a shit-faced grin.
Your eyes widen as Rupert begins to compare him to Declan, putting both of them under the same umbrella metaphorically. Declan brings it back around by repeatedly shitting on Campbell-Black, about to pull out an envelope from underneath his blazer as Rupert does something no one expected; admitting everything Declan has said to be true.
"Oh god." You whisper.
"I remember what it was like, to be the best. And what I was willing to do to stay there." Rupert says grimly. "What are you... willing to do?" Rupert asks in a taunting manner.
Declan goes quiet.
"To your family?... To yourself?" Rupert asks solemnly, the both of them having a stare down as the control room starts to light up in commotion.
You watch in fear as Tony urges Declan in his earpiece to take down Rupert, your eyes flickering between the multiple camera angles on a very, very quiet Declan.
"You're right." Declan finally says. "I'm a workaholic. And when I'm consumed by something... I can be, um... I can be a-"
"Monster." Rupert finishes the sentence, the both of them sharing a stare once again.
Rupert makes a comment about Declan being a better husband than he ever was, which causes you to look away from the screen when Declan argues against it. You couldn't help but feel as if you're one of Declan O'Hara's many flaws.
The interview starts to go in the opposite direction. You look back at the screen, watching Declan pull out his earpiece as Tony becomes enraged.
"If it's any consolation, we've made some really great television." Cameron Cook reasons.
"This would have worked if you'd just done your fucking job!" Tony yells at her, causing the rest of you to side eye him madly.
"Seb, I need to go home." You tell him flatly, putting your clipboard down.
"What? Y/n, the show isn't over yet! Where are you going?" Seb exclaims quietly, confused by your course of action. Daysee also gives you a look of worry.
"I just said home! I'll see you on Monday." You whisper aggressively, leaving the control room.
You hastily go over to your desk to retrieve your bag and coat. You glance over quickly at the viewing room the rest of the staff was in, your stomach tying in knots as the sight.
Heading down the hallway and the stairs, you push open the front doors and end up outside, where a massive group of fans stood awaiting Rupert Campbell-Black's return. They all share looks and noises of disappointment as they see you, an intern on the brink of tears instead of the acclaimed bachelor.
You push through the crowd, hurriedly approaching your car and unlocking it. You sit inside the beater and stare off in the distance. Your cheeks are stained with tears against your own will, your forehead resting upon the steering wheel as you begin to sob mercilessly.
You felt so hopeless amidst it all, no longer sure of yourself as you were before.
-
i will not lie this chapter was becoming so fucking long it's just gonna end up a continuation into the next part... also im lowkey too awkward to properly write out sex scenes because i give myself second hand embarrassment so forgive me this fanfic is plot driven over sex driven (':
as youve noticed ive started to follow by the episode plot line, it makes it easier for me to write and follow. thank you again for the support, and as always keep interacting with my works! keep me motivated ;)
much love,
isabel
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forestfrolickingfairy78 · 3 days ago
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Linked Universe Headcanons: What I think each of their roles would be in a boy band
I'm surprised how popular my prev one was! I was chatting to a non fan friend and she was curious what they would be like in a band, and asked me who the rapper would be...I reckon WILD hahah
Anyways...
Time: Not an active member but used to be a solo artist back in the day, he doesn't like being in the limelight as much and mentors/manages the rest of them. Still has that suave quality, a total heart throb and occasionally hosts a one off concert only available to the VIPS. He was the IT boy back in the day.
Warriors: Leader of the band and all rounder. He's a complete heartbreaker, can sing, and dance every style and fans go crazy over him. Very charismatic and flirty, knows how to make a fan feel special at a meet and greet and always takes a photo with them.
Twilight: I think lead guitarist, can sing beautifully and has one of the most charming voices, also very yeehaw and country when he goes on solo tour dates or drops his album. He's dripping with quiet confidence and doesn't share too much about his private life to fans, likes to keep a boundary between his private and professional life but will always be kind of them and never deny a photo or autograph
Sky: Has a beautiful voice, more shy and s o f t, he's one of the more quieter members and doesn't like being on camera as much but doesn't hate it either. Has that sweet prince charming vibe that everyone loves, would probably be a part time model on top of his band duties. Can play the guitar and bass
Wild: Absolute hardcore. He's def the main rapper and won't pass up the chance to drop any bars. He'll def go on rap battle tv shows and break EVERYONE. Mans got flow and swag, especially after getting a full arm of tattoos. What's the backstory behind them? He'll change it everytime he's on an interview. Absolute coolest dude on earth, fans LOVE him and how chill he is but you don't want to get on this guy's bad side or you'll be on his diss track list. Even the others are slightly scared of him. Always on social media posting selfies and updates, or threatening other artists that come for him or his band. Likes to film the other members to until Time tells him to cut it out and touch grass
Legend: I can see him having a lot of range in his voice, very powerful and can sing ballads. One of the lead singers and occasionally helps with writing songs. He CAN dance if he puts his heart and soul into it. He loves writing poetry and secretly writes love songs for himself based on a special girl, but he'll tear them up before anyone sees them. Would Probably records an incredible, heartfelt song he wrote and composed himself on his instagram then delete it after 5 hours beccause he'll be like, why the hell did I just do that? Fans would cry, wishing he would post more gems like that. Hates to be in the front but also fairly confident in his skills. Fans adore him because you can just see he's actually a big softie on the inside despite that tough exterior he puts up. Secretly jealous of Wild's rap ability, can't rap to save his life but maybe, one day.
Hyrule:
One of the lead singers, has the most melodic voice and can absolutely stun a crowd with his angelic vocals. Like Legend, also is one of the members with the most range. You know when you see someone in person and their just glowing? Yea, that's him. Sweetest celeb ever, everyone that's worked with him only has good things to say about this guy. Definitely has the most potential to go solo as well with his incredible piano skills. Can also play almost every other instrument, an absolute talent in everything. He also sponsors charities every now and then and interacts with fans on social media. Can do contemporary dance
Wind/Four: Tbh I think they would be good in broad way, both are great singers and still very much fanboys to the others. Their working their way, still in training. Can definitely see Wind going big on broadway and theatre and specialising in tap dance
Can you guess who is my bias? Or who's your bias? hehe
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madockisser · 3 days ago
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hi! i love ur analysis and i wanted to know ur thoughts about valerian being attracted to jude, despite the fact he calls her plain and dull. wouldn’t that technically be a lie? and how him and cardan both desired her and did a lot of the same things to her. i know he was more violent but do you think if jude hadn’t killed him they would have had potential?(im not condoning his actions or saying him and jude would be good together btw, im just genuinely curious😭)
Valerian x Jude? Why did valerian want Jude?/Valerian short analysis!
hii! Thank you so much for the ask! This ended up being really long but i wanted to answer it well bc valerian is such a strange character it’s easy to not understand his motivations and whatnot!
before i start i want to say that holly back herself in an interview thingy said that valerian is attracted to Jude the same way that misogynistic men are attracted to women.
so firstly, valerian is such a loser but anyway we must recall that he is VERY unseelie. he doesn’t care for the livelihood of humans or even the faeries around him. Even his “friends” whom he relishes in hurting. he would do the same to Jude in a relationship and he HAS.
why his attraction to Jude? he cannot lie obv but he says that she is plain looking and dull compared to the fae since that’s what he’s used to, but he’s still attracted to her.
he leers at taryns curves, so he’s sexually attracted to Jude and Taryn. He lusts for them, specifically Jude, but why?
i assume that he finds their human bodies attractive since they’re so different from faerie bodies. yk, breasts and wide hips and all.
edit: obv also because Jude is a total smokeshow 🫦👅 also her amber eyes 😍
Since he hates humans and views them as a different species and says that everything about them is disgusting and a lie, him finding himself attracted to her probably totally pissed him off.
but it’s Jude’s defensive personality that makes him REALLY want her.
Note: Taryn is pretty submissive and kneels over for valerian, cardan, nicasia, and Locke.
Valerian is a part of the gentry, he’s a spoiled brat. He gets what he wants and he does what he wants. He goes to the mortal world and controls/hurts/probably kills them and in elfhame he hurts people, and through cardans power as prince can he easily get away with it.
now Jude, does NOT let this slide. She does not allow him to get to her, even through the abuse she endured from him, she remains defiant and she strikes back at him.
note: Taryn craves their favor and wants to be one of them, while Jude wants to beat them. Taryn allows them to do with her as they please and thinks her and jude should just shut up and endure their abuse.
Let’s remember when valerian stole Jude’s pen, and madoc replaced it w a ruby studded one from his personal desk. Valerian raged and hit Jude.
Valerian seems to not be used to not only being defied, but being defied by a “species” that is disgusting and unworthy of life in his eyes.
obviously, Jude is also a part of the gentry, nonetheless the daughter of a member of the kings living council, madoc has a VERY high status in elfhame. he literally LIVES on the isles of the elfhame. He has a home there.
random lore add on: liriope (lockes mother) had a home on the isles and it is stated that she was one of the first of eldreds consorts, so i assume that madoc was one of the first of eldreds high ranks as well.
valerian on the other hand most likely isn’t from the high court itself but some neighboring court, just there to visit for school. obviously he’s noble because he attends palace school with the other favored children. but i don’t think his rank is higher madocs. Like at all
Anyway what I’m trying to say is that technically, Jude, as the generals daughter, has a higher rank than him.
And jude isn’t even a bastard. She’s a stolen child that valerian and others see as unworthy of being there.
now jude having such a powerful father is what makes the children of the gentry hesitate when wanting to inflict pain or humiliation on her. Only madocs power is keeping them from hurting her PUBLICLY.
now how does this play into why valerian is attracted to her?
because with humans, valerian gets what he wants. he glamours them and hurts them and makes them eat leaves and garbage.
but he cannot do this with Jude, which is why i think this makes him want her more. Ever heard of the saying “we all want what we cannot have?” valerian CANNOT have Jude. not just because she would never, but for every other reason(i get into this a few paragraphs down)
now pair this with the fact that CARDAN wants Jude, and i always thought that valerian noticed this, so valerian cannot have her even more so now that cardan wants her.
one of my fav moots lmk that Jude ONLY paid any attention to cardan. Cardan pissed her off the most. when Jude’s being abused by that whole group, she singles out cardan, and pretty much ignores valerian.
i imagine that valerian was so upset that she did not let him get to her, that he wanted more and more to attempt to have her. hence the violent attraction.
From his eyes, Locke and cardan want her, Locke has her, and cardan is a prince, and who doesn’t want to take from a prince? Especially a guy that LOVES hurting those around him, or anyone at all.
it’s in fae nature to compete for lovers so honestly- him knowing that Locke had her probably infuriated him, and knowing that cardan wanted her too probably made him want her more.
but what’s important to remember is that valerian had no love/didnt care for Jude. at all. unlike cardan, who lied to himself about caring for her, val did not care for her, she was just a thing to take and abuse and hurt.
because he could not break her emotionally and mentally, he wanted to even more.
now picture this: the first time he gets her alone and tries killing her (in the tower) he takes off her Rowan berries and glamours her. And he CANT. Jude cannot be glamoured. then she STABS him. i just KNOW he was absolutely crashing out.
to him, Jude becomes more and more unattainable, and this INFURIATES him. All he wants is to hurt her, that’s what he does, but he simply cannot get to her.
when he pushes her down, she gets back up again. every single time. (queen behavior)
he wanted her bc he’s a selfish, abusive, controlling asshat. she was a thing to take from cardan and Locke. he wanted to hurt her because he hated that he wanted her and couldn’t have her. he hated that he could not REALLY hurt her. even as he ACTIVELY hurt her, she would NOT let up.
i love Jude for this lol and the fact she doesn’t realize just how much she’s pissing him off is so funny. she’s too busy paying attention and hating CARDAN. (I would too babe)
anyway- bro resorted to outright hunting her down. i imagine he was so torn up that he couldn’t glamour her, he couldn’t use the ONE POWER that he had over her- and instead she STABBED HIM- that he got absolutely shitfaced and managed to climb up her window to off her.
add on(I’m sorry this is so messy): valerian says time and time again how better he is than her, how humans are worthless and useless and whatnot, but Jude just continues to prove that no matter what he says, she is not some weak human that he wants/expects her to be.
anyway, would him and Jude ever have worked? i understand WHY people ask this question, but it overall sorta upsets me anyway. (not hate toward anon at all i mean i hate seeing people ship them)
valerian is not some dark romance main lead. he DID NOT care for Jude’s well being. he wanted her dead and actively tried killing her many times.
Jude’s standards aren’t low enough to accept that sort of relationship, and Jude had nothing to gain from it seeing as she didn’t want to earn her place through marriage.
Does JUDE DUARTE, seem like the type to let such a pos in her life at all? no.
valerian was unintelligent, he was ignorant and simple minded about humans, he abused humans, he abused and tried killing Jude, hes unseelie and relishes pain and suffering above all. him and Jude would never have worked, and they never could’ve happened in the first place even if he lived.
he doesn’t even see her as his equal. she’s an entirely different species, she’s an animal to him.
and his death. He died cursing her. he died because of his hatred for her, and then he cursed her. not only did he try killing her many times, but he also tried to ruin her life completely.
meanwhile, as he was dying, Jude tried saving him, even after all those murder attempts. Jude is a good person, and he was not.
i feel like it’s an insult to even compare valerian and cardan, they’re literally complete opposites. and it’s awful to want him and Jude to work, because Jude isn’t submissive, she’s a survivor and she fights back. she never would’ve given him the light of fucking day lmao.
he didn’t deserve her, and I’m so glad he died at her hand. after he probably killed tons of humans for fun, he deserved it all. After he literally cursed her, and traumatized her, he deserved it.
Jude and cardan work so well because cardan had what valerian doesn’t. Empathy, and the capacity to actually love and understand. let’s all remember that cardan:
1. He cares for and protects Jude
2. He sees humans as equal to him/ he doesn’t see Jude as less than him, if anything he sees her as better than him throughout the whole series (which pisses him off since at first everyone around him tries making him think that humans are stupid and unworthy, until he grows away from their abuse and hate and loves her cunning and everything about her)
3. Cardan comes to understand and pity humans despite being groomed into thinking they’re unworthy and disgusting and despite the fact that he’s beaten by humans. he goes on to risking his own ass by freeing balekins human slaves.
4.he is considerate, he sends her a dress even when she hates him so the humiliation from Locke and taryns betrayal is dulled.
5.his motivations where fueled by his desire, the same as valerian, except cardan never wanted her dead
6. There’s more but I’m lazy and i think you get the point lol. Valerian sucks
anyway sorry for ranting, I’ve seen too many valerian jude shippers, they literally make no sense whatsoever, jude and valerian have absolutely nothing in common, i feel like ppl only ship them bc they like dark romance? but that’s lame, and it doesn’t belong in ya!
I’m not one to hate on peoples ships like at all, but ppl that ship them must either HATE Jude, or completely disregard her entire character. she would NEVER and she doesn’t deserve to be shipped w that inbred!
anyway thank you anon for the ask! I’m sorry for how much of a hot mess this is, i kept going back and adding things lol, but feel so free to add on 🫶🫶🫶
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tavolgisvist · 2 days ago
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Scouse
Viscount Montgomery Brian Epstein’s personal assistant Barry Leonard quit his job ‘because the strain of managing the Beatles is just too great’. In an article in the Daily Express Leonard told about his experiences with the Beatles. Among other things, he said Paul wanted to leave the group and was trying to lose his Liverpool accent. As the Beatles gathered at the office of their accountant, Epstein mentioned the story to Paul. ‘Barry says you are trying to lose your accent,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t,’ muttered John, as he examined a likeness of the Beatles fashioned in papier mâché.
(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)
After a short interview in which they sound like they're putting on Liverpool accents (particularly Paul and John), 'and now their new single Love Me Do'. 'FANTASTIC…turn it UP!' (I shouted in my head). That's my brother…my bloody brother!…My head's exploding…'so ple-e-e-se love me do'. <…> I dashed back to Forthlin to tell Dad I'd seen our Paul on the TELLY and then waited for Paul to come home to see if he'd changed at all. By the time he eventually got in, Dad and I were in bed but I was still awake. The conversation probably went like this: 'Psst…here you.' 'Is Dad asleep?' 'Of course he is, it's past two o'clock.' 'We were celebratinh. Did you see it?' 'Yeah it was gear, it really was.I had to watch it in a bar down from Bernard's, but it was fabulous.' 'Could you see the velvet collar?' 'Sure, you could see everything.' (When the decision to 'go commercial' and buy suits instead of the cool Hamburg leathers was reached, mainly by Brian, Paul had smoothed over the shock by saying, 'But ours are different from anybody else's…ours have got velvet collars…look.' As the cardboard box lid was lifted and the white tissue paper unfolded to disclose the dark blue 'Dougy Millins' tailor-made suit, sure enough, the highly polished, trouser creased, mohair suit was topped with a black velvet collar.) 'But why did you talk like that on the TV? It sounded like George gone wrong…you don't talk like that.' 'I know that, you know that, but they don't know that…It's part of the image…' 'Monkey suit and phoney accents?…anyway it worked, it was fantastic.' 'Gear, I'll be off then, ny nyte.' 'Nigh-night…psst can I have your autograph?' 'Sod off.'
(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)
Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)
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Interviewer: Are you going to lose some of your Liverpool dialect for the Royal show? Paul McCartney: No, we don't all speak like BBC
(Interview 16th Oct 1963, befor the Royal Variety Charity)
We went to London to party. I always tell this story, it happened pretty much like this. The week before Merseybeat broke up here [in London], or a couple of weeks before, I was just with my friends, and you were at a posh party, and they'd come up to you [adopts 'posh' voice] 'hi, how are you?' 'Great, thanks.' 'My name's Peregrine, and this is Cecilia…' 'Oh, great, hi.' 'Where are you from?' 'Oh, Liverpool…' 'Anyway, Cecilia, you said…' And they just turned their backs on you, because it was so simple - you were useless to them, useless. Anything north of the Cape was the hinterland, the jungle. So they couldn't care less. And then, a week later, Merseybeat suddenly goes 'bang!' He goes down to London before he conquers America and the world… and it's the same party, "Oh, I'm Sebastian, this is Claudia, what's your name?" "I'm Mike." "Where are you from?" "Liverpool." "Liverpool, oh my God, guys, come here, look, these guys from Liverpool, it's just wonderful." And then they'd do a Liverpool accent, and that's why it always came out Brummie [Birmingham], because they couldn't do a Liverpool accent. So, yeah, you were a nobody, and suddenly everything changed.
(Mike McCartney, interview for the Super Deluxe Edition, September 26, 2019)
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pic by lisamarie-vee
+about suits
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chaoticbiguysblog · 2 days ago
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Three days into the hiatus and I still can't believe that after 7 long seasons and so many hurdles, Buddie canon is on the horizon and at the end of ep8, it seems like the arc has finally started. Buck's expressions were something I don't think we've seen before, even when Eddie was leaving the 118, and it's safe to say he has realized that he might be in love with Eddie. Sure, in the fandom we over analyze stuff but even from a regular viewer's perspective, it seems Buck is bothered by it and that'll lead to some deep introspection on his part, that may change his life.
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I guess we could've used a more explicit hint bc I see a lot of people dooming but atp I feel like the show is clearly setting the stage for Buddie canon. Obviously they're not gonna do everything at once bc this thing has been cooking for years now, I'm sure they're gonna milk it for all its worth and their getting together and first kiss is going to be nothing short of EPIC.
Tim said a lot of different things in his post episode interviews, all of which seem to point towards Buddie canon. One of his most important quotes from the decider interview is that (I'm paraphrasing) Buck will try to distract himself from Eddie, he'll latch onto something, which won't last long and we'll all find out why none of his relationships don't last long. So all of these things, no matter how you look at it, seem to be leading to Buddie.
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As for Eddie, I loved that his reaction is the complete opposite of Buck's, whose heart is breaking at the thought of the love of his life moving away and that he'll be left alone, Eddie on the other hand realises that he's never alone bc Buck has always been his partner. We AND Eddie are not ready for when he realises that Buck is the love of his life too.
Although side note, I will say that we should stop expecting a big sexuality discovery arc for Eddie revolving around catholic guilt and what not, the priest's return and his inclusion in Eddie's storyline was for the sole purpose to get Eddie to stop denying himself joy, and so when he finds out Buck is in love with him, it'll be a mostly angst free storyline that can easily be wrapped up in 2-3 episodes. And I'm sure we are about to get Buddie canon around April/May, right in time for Pride month!!
I'm happy with how everything is turning out on the Buddie front, the whole moving away trope is a much better option for Buddie than an NDE, so I can't wait for how it's all gonna happen. Although, addressing the elephant in the room, I'm disappointed by the lack of screentime for Christopher and Eddie, so I need them to get an entire episode all to themselves, away from Buck and the 118, to make up for all the off screen development their fractured relationship went through.
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biblical-chronicles · 1 day ago
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Fan-service
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where Noel is so starstruck by the reader, that he can't even let a word out, especially as she presses against him to finally nail a riff that has been stuck in her head.
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Oasis had been locked in the studio all week, grinding through new material. The days were dragging, and while Noel Gallagher could usually power through long sessions with determination, something had been throwing him off his rhythm lately. He sat hunched over his guitar, strumming idly while scribbling down half-finished lyrics, though his mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.
Across the room, Liam leaned casually against the wall, cigarette in hand, watching his older brother with a sly grin. “You’ve been well quiet lately,” Liam started, his voice cutting through the low hum of the amps. “Bit out of character, innit? Normally, you’re banging on about summat well boring by now.”
Noel shot him a look but didn’t reply, his focus stubbornly staying on his guitar.
“Oh, I get it now.” Liam smirked, dragging on his cigarette. “You’re thinkin’ about her, ain’t ya?”
At this, Noel’s fingers faltered on the strings. He didn’t say a word, but the slight stiffening of his shoulders was all Liam needed.
“Bloody hell, this is gold!” Liam’s laugh echoed through the room, and he gestured at Noel with his cigarette. “Our kid’s gone soft over that singer. What’s her name again? That band you’re always harping on about like some lovesick twat?”
“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, his voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment.
“You’re always goin’ on about how talented she is, how her voice is, what’d you say, proper angelic?” Liam snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s tragic, mate. Well tragic.”
“I’m not having this conversation,” Noel muttered, shaking his head as if it could physically remove the topic from existence.
“Well, you better sort it out, ‘cause they’re booked in the next studio soon, yeah?” Liam’s grin widened as he pointed out what Noel had been dreading. “She’s gonna be right down the hall. What’re you gonna do then, eh? Gonna spend the next few weeks hiding in the bogs every time she walks by?”
“Why don’t you do one and focus on something useful for once?” Noel barked, clearly over it.
“ooh touchy touchy aren't we, alright” said Liam holding up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Just don’t come crying to me when she don’t even know you exist, mate.” He gave Noel one last pointed look before wandering off, still chuckling to himself.
A week later, the studio was buzzin with sound as your band arrived to record your new album. You’d barely had time to catch your breath with how fast things had been moving lately—gigs, interviews, and now this—but it was all part of the ride.
The first few days in the studio were a mix of excitement and frustration as you worked to fine-tune the tracks. Things were going well, but one song in particular was giving you trouble. The chorus needed something—a riff, a hook—but no matter how hard you and your band tried, nothing seemed to fit.
After hours of tinkering with no breakthrough, you decided to call it a night. “You lot head off,” you told your bandmates as they packed up their gear. “I’ll grab a bite and lock up.”
They nodded, wishing you goodnight as they headed out. Left alone, you wandered into the small kitchen area of the building, rummaging through the sparse offerings until you settled on a rather sad-looking snack. You leaned against the counter, chewing absentmindedly, humming away, when the melody suddenly hit you.
It was perfect. It tied the whole chorus together in your head, and you immediately knew that you couldn’t risk losing it. Tossing the wrapper in the bin, you rushed back down the corridor towards the studio room, humming the notes under your breath so you wouldn’t forget.
Reaching the door, you realized with a groan that it was locked. “Fuck,” you muttered, tugging at the handle uselessly. Of course your bandmates locked the room up on their way out.
You stood there for a moment, wracking your brain for a solution. That’s when you heard it—a faint melody drifting down the hall.
Following the sound, you found yourself in front of a door with “Oasis” scrawled on the sign. For a brief moment, nerves fluttered in your stomach. You’d heard the stories, seen the interviews - the Gallagher brothers weren’t exactly known for being approachable. But the riff was all you could think about, and with no time to hesitate, you pushed the door open.
Inside, the band had just finished playing a song, the final notes still humming in the air. Four pairs of eyes turned to you as you stepped in, looking a bit out of place but determined nonetheless.
“Hi,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the sudden silence. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh... would you mind if I borrowed a guitar for a sec? I’ve got this riff stuck in me head, and I need to get it down before I forget.”
Nobody said a word, the room was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of their amps. You shifted awkwardly, wondering if you’d made a mistake.
“Everyone alright? Or did I walk in at a bad time?” you joked, laughing nervously.
Finally, Liam broke the silence, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I’m sure Noel won’t mind you borrowing his gear. He’s a big fan.” He turned to his brother and not-so-subtly jabbed him in the ribs.
Noel, however, looked like he might spontaneously combust at any moment now. His face turned a deep shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond but found no words. Instead, he just sat there, gripping his guitar like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.
The sight sent Liam into a small fit of laughter, and it wasn’t long before the rest of the band joined in. You stood there, thoroughly confused but trying not to let it show.
“Right,” you said slowly, glancing at Liam, who was practically doubled over, already in the process of nudging Noel again. “Well, maybe don’t knock your guitarist out while you’re at it. He’s important to the band, isn’t he? And, he's kinda cute too, would be a shame to lose him.”
That only made things worse. Noel somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red, his face now matching the hue of his knit. Liam was in hysterics at this point, the rest of the band not being far behind.
You glanced at Noel again, noticing the wide-eyed, slightly panicked expression that hadn’t left his face. His grip on the guitar seemed to tighten, and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Okay,” you said, trying to suppress a smile as you addressed the room. “He might be broken or summat, but listen, I really need to get this riff out before it slips away from me.”
Before anyone could respond, you walked over to Noel and, without much thought, slid your arms around him to reach the guitar. He froze completely, every muscle in his body going stiff as you gently moved his hands to make room for yours on the neck of the instrument.
“Right, let’s see if this works,” you muttered, focused on the notes in your head. You began plucking at the strings, slowly piecing together the melody as Noel sat motionless beneath you. Your body pressed lightly against his as you leaned over him to reach the frets, completely oblivious to the utter chaos you were causing in his head.
Behind you, Liam’s laughter hit a new level. “You seeing this?” he wheezed, looking around at the rest of the band, who were also struggling to keep their composure. “Our Noel! He’s gone, mate. Completely gone.”
The room erupted into more laughter, but you couldn't hear it, too focused on the riff. Yet, you could feel Noel shifting slightly under you, as if he were trying to sink into the floor.
Finally, you played the last few notes, the riff clicking perfectly into place. “That’s it,” you said, grinning as you let the final chord ring out. “Bloody hell, I’m glad I got that down.”
You leaned closer to Noel’s ear, whispering a quick, “Thanks for this. You’re a lifesaver.”
It wasn’t until you pulled back that you noticed just how red Noel’s face was. His skin was practically glowing, and his eyes had this dazed, glassy look as he stared blankly ahead. You couldn’t help but smile, the pieces finally starting to click into place.
“Well, I should probably head off now,” you said, stepping back from Noel and addressing the room. “Thanks for letting me steal your guitarist for a bit. I really appreciate it—and I’d love to hang out properly sometime with you lot. We’ll all be stuck here for weeks, yeah?”
The rest of the band nodded, offering their goodbyes and complimenting your career so far.
As you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you, you could still hear the faint sound of Liam cackling. You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you started walking toward the main exit.
You didn’t get far before the door burst open behind you.
“Noel wants a private meet-and-greet!” Liam’s voice rang out, his laughter following soon after as he all but dragged his older brother into the hallway by the ear.
You turned to find Noel half-protesting, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite decide what to say. Liam, on the other hand, was clearly having the time of his life, practically bouncing on his feet with glee.
“Well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you crossed your arms. “Is that true, Noel?”
Noel opened his mouth, presumably to deny everything, but Liam cut in before he could speak. “Go on, mate. Tell her how you feel. Or d’you need me to spell it out for ya?”
“Piss off, Liam,” Noel grumbled, his voice finally returning, though his usual confidence was still nowhere to be found.
“Nah, I’ll leave you to it,” Liam said, grinning as he turned back toward the studio. “But don’t think I won’t come back if you bottle it.” With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving you and Noel alone in the hallway.
You tilted your head, studying Noel with an amused expression. “Alright, what’s this all about, then? What’s he on about?”
Noel rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. “It’s... it’s nothin’. He’s just taking the piss, per usual.”
“Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me,” you said, stepping closer. “Come on, Noel. Spit it out. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what’s going on.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Look... I’m a big fan of yours, alright? I think you’re brilliant—your voice, your songwriting, the lot of it. And, uh... maybe I fancy you a little, or whatever.”
You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Is that so? Well, I’m flattered, really.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes. “It’s probably weird, me sayin’ all this.”
“Not weird at all,” you assured him, pulling him into a hug. “And for the record, I’d love to go out with you sometime.”
His head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You serious?”
“Dead serious,” you said with a grin, though you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Though I can’t promise I won’t tell everyone about how red your face went earlier.”
“Not funny,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin burned under your lips, and when you pulled back, you noticed how dazed he looked. Something about the moment felt too perfect to pass up, so you decided to close the gap again—this time pressing your lips fully to his.
Noel stiffened for just a moment before melting into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist, tugging you firmly against him. The heat between you was immediate, as your fingers brushed along his jawline, tracing the scruff there before burying themselves in his hair. When you tugged gently, a low groan escaped him, his breath hitching audibly as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.
His hands grew bolder, one sliding down to the curve of your hip while the other trailed up the small of your back, his fingers skimming the fabric as if itching to touch bare skin. The pressure of his hold sent a shiver through you, and you pressed yourself closer, your body molding against his in a way that left no space between you.
The kiss turned hungrier, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that sent sparks racing down your spine. His hands weren’t still for a moment, one sliding just beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare lower back, the other venturing up your side, his thumb grazing tantalizingly close to your bra clasp.
With a subtle shift, Noel pressed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body following to keep you pinned there. You felt his fingers grip your shirt, bunching the fabric like he needed something to ground him, though the way his lips never left yours suggested he was perfectly content losing himself entirely. Your hands roamed freely now—one still tugging at his hair while the other drifted down to the broad expanse of his chest.
Then, as though driven by instinct, he hooked one of your legs around his hip, his hand sliding down to your thigh to hold it in place. The new position pressed you even closer together, your body arching into his as his lips never left yours.
You gasped into his mouth, your hands tightening in his hair and pulling him even deeper into the kiss. His grip on your thigh was firm, his fingers digging in slightly as though to steady both of you. His lips trailed to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed a line down to your neck, his teeth grazing ever so slightly.
"Christ," he muttered against your skin, his voice huskier than usual, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "You’re gonna be the death of me"
You grinned, breathless, your thumb tracing the outline of his cheek as you whispered back, "Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?"
Before either of you could take it further, a familiar voice rang out from the hallway.
"Oi! I see the meet-and-greet’s come with some extra fan service!"
You both froze. Noel’s head snapped up, his face going a deeper shade of red than you thought humanly possible. You turned toward the doorway to find Liam standing there, leaning casually against the frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
"Honestly, Noel," Liam continued, his voice dripping with mockery, "you’re supposed to ask for an autograph, not sexual favours."
Noel scrambled to put your leg down, his hands leaving you so fast it was almost comical, though he kept his body angled slightly in front of yours as if to shield you from Liam’s teasing.
"Fuck right off, Liam!" Noel barked, his voice sharp but his face still burning.
You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning around Noel to flash Liam a cheeky grin. "Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye out for your brother."
"Oh, don’t worry, love," Liam said, crossing his arms. "I’ll keep this one on a leash from now on. Can’t have him getting any more ideas."
As Liam sauntered away, you turned back to Noel, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. "Well," you said softly, brushing a thumb along his jaw, "I guess we’ll definitely need to thank your brother for that."
Noel groaned, shaking his head, but the small grin tugging at his lips told you he wasn’t entirely upset.
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@shes-thunderstormssss this request was so fucking biblical, I just have to tag you, you lot please thank this absolute legend for it. Hopefully it meets your expectations, I just thought it’d be well more fun if the whole band had a laugh and tortured Noel a bit, get him proper flustered x
I proper enjoyed writin’ this, probably more than I should’ve, was expecting to have it done by tomorrow afternoon but here ya go me biblical skill knows no boundaries. Feel free to bombard me inbox with new requests, or yer apple pie recipes I don't give a toss, just love interacting with you lot xx
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thecoiledserpent · 2 days ago
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Your view pisses me off We all have free will so we can still change a lot I doubt its all fated…
well tell that to the people in palestine or sudan or colonies, to the mother of my friend who had to stay in her abusive relationship until she died because of her daughter, to the mother who lost her unborn child, to the man who lost his leg while hiking, to the little girl who was raped, to my little brother whose eye caught the worst infection when he was three, to the people who are blind or deaf or mentally unstable, to the little girls who grow up with abusive mothers, to that girl in 8th class who is always overshadowed by her classmates despite being talented, to—
this is part of why i never want to see people who don't understand hindu religion or are not spiritual to enter astrology; free will exists, but we never know where. maybe i am fated to have the best husband but the worst in-laws. do you know what will happen? even the criminal that marries me will turn a good man, and even if they belong to a royal family, their family will turn against me for some reason or the other.
there is just karma, which we all must do. but the result of all things is fated, fated, and fated. those of us who face adversity and still rise above it become kings, princes or the privileged in their next life. every person who is blessed in any manner, worked in their past life to achieve it so they have it now. sorry to break your sorry little bubble, but life's not like that.
let's say i kick a puppy today. then, someday, some ten years later, when i get splashed with dirty water while going for an important job interview, i will go 'why me?!' but yes, me. yes, i did something to deserve it, and now i am getting it. few things in life are not result of our own actions in the past, convincing yourself otherwise is futile. and even if, let's say, the universe seems to hate you, then if you keep your head down and take it and learn to rise above it, then you'll be rewarded for it in the future.
astrology, numerology, tarot etc are the map to our lives. detouring is possible, yes, but the thing is that our paths are decided based on what we were in the past, what we are to face in this life and how we are most likely to react to it. rarely do people react differently, and so most people live the lives that was written for them in the stars.
free will exists merely in how we react to adversity in life, not in what sort of adversity we are to face. your 'free will' can't stop death, accidents, bad relationships, back-stabbing people, bad bosses, misfortunes or anything else. your free will exists only in whether you accept death as the truth of life or as something to be mourned indefinitely over. your free will exists only in whether you think of life as something to live or as something to utilize to become better.
your free will exists only in your thoughts and mindsets. and when the mindset changes, the life does too! ❤
i can't even be angry here, i'm just pitying you right now. believing whatever trash is thrown around everywhere, trying to convince yourself that misery or sadness is not a result of one's own actions. the day you realise the truth, you'll find this entire thing a propaganda, too.
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bekolxeram · 2 days ago
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Remember the post S7 hiatus?
Remember how we were torturing ourselves over the lack of Lou BTS? Wondering if the unfounded rumor of Lou's dismissal started by malicious parties was true after all?
Remember how we were just quietly creating for characters we love in our little corner, but someone decided to invade our space and traumatize us for no reason?
Remember the rollercoaster of emotions we went through before Tommy finally showed up with a party cone and scrunchy smile?
We're free from all that now. Canon has no bearing on Tommy Kinard as a character anymore. We get to decide now.
Maybe you're still planning to watch the show once it returns in March, but I recommend you to disengage from the show until then. Don't read interviews, unfollow the show's social media accounts, they can keep their Brad.
There's a deeply traumatized firefighter pilot out there who stole a helicopter, flew into a hurricane, landed on a capsized cruise ship after one phone call from an old colleague indicating there might be people in need of rescue, but still thinks he doesn't deserve love and companionship. Holiday season is approaching, don't let him go through it alone.
Heal him with your art. Give him a happy ending with your words.
Love him, even when he believes no one ever will.
Some tips for mental health with regards to BuckTommy and 911 the show.
Stop reading the interviews and making guesses about what Tim and the writers might be planning for BuckTommy in the long run.
All y’all are doing is stressing yourselves out.
As much as we may be emotionally invested in the show, please remember that the show is a job for the people involved. They’re going to do/say whatever they believe is in their best interest.
The next episode won’t air until March 2025.
There is nothing we can do to ensure that BuckTommy gets back together. We can voice our opinions, but we cannot control which route the show decides to take.
Worrying and stressing out over it helps no one including yourselves. Trump is going to become President before the rest of the season airs.
If y’all are like me, you’re in several marginalized categories that will be affected by the new administration.
Dealing with that stress is going to be hard enough, so please don’t wear yourself out over the tv show.
Just engage with fandom and focus on the positives and channel the negatives into creating something. Whether it’s art, fanfiction, meta, headcanons, etc.
I’m not saying ignore your emotions and feelings. Process them in a healthy way. We care more about the show than the show cares about us. That’s evident.
The interviews are not reliable sources about the future of BuckTommy. They haven’t been for a while.
All I’m saying is that life is about to get much worse for us in the coming months, so don’t expend all your energy reading too much into the interviews and social media posts from the folks who work on the show.
Also, again, this show is a job for Tim, the writers, cast, and crew. They’re going to do whatever they feel is best for the show regardless of how we feel. We’ve seen it happen before in other fandoms and fiction who had better writers than 911.
At the end of the day, it’s just business for them. Haven’t you ever submitted crappy work at your job? Or made mistakes? Mistakes that may have negatively affected someone? That is how it goes for all industries. Some professionals will produce great work one day, then terrible work another day. That’s just how life is.
Is it fair? Nope. Can you do anything about it? Not really. You don’t know what goes on behind the scenes of the show. All we know is what they give us, and that’s been inconsistent for a while.
You are allowed to mourn over it, just don’t get carried away with the conspiracies or guesses as to what folks are going to do at their jobs. We don’t know any of those folk.
Also remember that mediocre white men are always going to be mediocre white men with unearned confidence.
Good night. Rest, create, self-care, and do something that makes you happy or laugh. Find joy in the small things. One time a colleague at my former job had the biggest smile on his face when we got the door lock to the front desk fixed. I will always remember that. We had a tough job, and we had to learn to appreciate the small things to stay sane.
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