#mid-cap performance

[priyashareindia9]

Mid-cap stocks are from companies with a market capitalization between $2 billion and $10 billion. These mid-market equity investments offer significant diversification benefits and exposure to companies with substantial growth potential. While some might consider these stocks volatile, they provide a balance between growth potential and risk management, making them an attractive investment choice. Here are several advantages of investing in mid-cap stocks:

[theemiratestimesblog]

Insurance is an aspect that most individuals focus on throughout their lives. Whether it’s insurance for products or people, it can be helpful in the long term. When talking about this, we can’t deny the exceptionality of the approaches undertaken by Al Ahlia insurance. As a result, we decided to interview Bader Al Lawati, the Head of Digital and Marketing Communications of Al Ahlia Insurance.

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 2) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 —𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.1k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 & 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘺(𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰), 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳

you left that meeting without exchanging a word with Simon. he didn’t seem to mind.

by the time you had left, he was swarmed by the girls at the meeting, all curious and wanting his attention. Maya included, much to Sarah’s amusement. not to yours at all.

the rest of the meeting had been a drone of done anything fun for the past week? have you set any new routines and practices? have you been utilizing any constructive coping strategies we learned about in your routines?

that was usually your favorite part about the meeting. with Simon’s presence a steaming reek right in your peripheral, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t get out more than a choked i’ve been good.

although, in comparison, Kate could barely coax a word from Simon. most of his responses came in the form of a blink, a shrug, or shifting in that rickety, creaking chair.

walking down the familiar road to the church, this time mid-day, but the air just as cutting and cold, you pulled out your phone to mull over the brief text conversation between yourself and Simon.

-1pm tmrw church

-Sure.

and that was that. Kate had practically strangled you over a phone call to actually text the thing and agree on a place and time to meet to plan for the upcoming fall projects.

your eyes ran over the phone screen again.

Sure.

you rolled your eyes. even that response felt arrogant and asshole-ish.

you knew your mind, in all its immaturity, was twisting the text and pulling it apart, trampling it, and spitting it back out. you knew because it was something Kate chided you about time and time again.

you couldn’t find it in you to care.

you pushed through the doors of the church, entering the chapel, descending down the stairs, to find Simon brooding by the double-doors of the meeting room.

he was leaned back against the faded walls, donning that all-black attire, hood up and masked, earbuds in and eyes closed. he looked virtually the same as he had only several days ago, save for the black baseball cap peeking out of his hood.

as you neared, you swallowed hard, stomach flurrying erratically. you probably would’ve turned tail and ditched him if his eyes didn’t snap open, pushing off the wall and arms stiff by his side.

you stopped when there was an awkwardly marginal distance between the two of you.

“hi.”

“hi.”

silence.

you fumbled with your phone with a sigh, scrolling through the document Kate shared with you, squinting at the screen, and wholly ignoring Simon’s dark eyes on you.

every year, the city hosts a community-led halloween festival for children with table events, performers, music, mini-haunted houses, and more. it stretches for a couple blocks and wraps around the church—where you and Simon had been assigned pumpkin carving and costume coordination by Kate.

“so we’ve got pumpkin carving and—”

“costume coordination,” he finished, hands clenched by his sides. you eyed his gloves curiously, then roamed up to his masked face. 

with a bitterness, you realized he kind of looked like a serial killer. but, biting down on your tongue, you chose not to speak on it, only pocketed your phone with a nod.

“right. costumes this way,” you gestured down the hallway, and Simon fell into step just a few strides behind you.

to fill the terse silence, you fumbled around for small talk. 

“so you got a day job?”

if he had agreed to meet at one o’clock on a weekday, you assumed his military job might be something with a peculiar irregularity, much to your chagrin. you had hoped he would say no to the meeting.

but he just shook his head. “i’m on leave. been here since last week.”

your heart soared, and you bit down on your lip to smother a smile as you opened the door at the end of the hallway. “does that mean you’ll be going back soon?”

flicking on the flights, the storage room flooded with an artificial fluorescent glare. you reached for a familiar storage container beneath a table covered with dusty white sheets. hauling it towards you, you paused when you realized Simon hadn’t followed you into the room.

you looked over your shoulder. he stared back at you from where his massive frame crowded the doorway, hands clenched by his sides.

you swallowed hard. you were alone in this church with Simon. just you and a man.

and he was blocking the only exit.

an alarming flash ran through you—hot and sharp and leaving you breathless.

“did i do something?”

you stood, steadying your labored breath like Kate had taught you.

“yes.”

he stared at you for a long moment before huffing out, eyes flashing as he stepped into the room and away from the entrance. you exhaled, rough and shaky.

that burn of his prying gaze built a familiar anger in your lungs, and you eyed him with narrowed eyes. “what?”

he shook his head, bending down for a box beside yours. “nothing.”

you cocked your head. “something funny?”

“no.” he rose to his full height, a box between his hands, and head craned as he looked down at you. dark eyes murky and quiet.

your hands balled into fists. he really was massive.

“you’re just bad at lying.”

your brow furrowed and he gestured with a dip of his head towards your stance, and your gaze followed his, down to the stiffness of your body and your hands clenched in your pockets.

you blinked. when had you done that?

immediately, you jerked them out of your pockets and smoothed your clammy hands down your thighs.

“let’s just—” you cleared your throat, turning back to the boxes, “—let’s just get this over with and leave.”

you could see Simon’s stare from your peripheral. “alright.”

carrying the boxes down the hallway, his footsteps those eerie quiet thuds behind you, you turned to push through the door with your back and strode to settle the box at the center of the floor, rummaging through the contents and spreading them out over the carpet. you picked up a little black number draped with longer, jagged pieces along its hems. a child size witch’s dress.

Simon settled beside you a comfortable distance away, watching your movement with a careful eye.

“okay so—” you turned the dress over in your hands, inspecting its light wear and tear, “—i’ll take half of the costumes to sew. you take the other half to work on and next meeting we’ll—”

the deep timbre of his voice cut you off. “sew?”

the words died in your throat, head whipping to Simon who held up a toddler’s pumpkin costume that was dwarfed by the size of his hands.

you struggled for words, choking out, “you don’t know how to sew?”

his eyes met yours. “not clothing.”

flabbergasted, you pressed, “and Kate assigned you to costume coordination?”

he nodded, beginning to pull out his phone and show you Kate’s document you presumed, but you waved a hand at him, a new berth of stress weighing down your shoulders.

“no, no it’s fine just…” you held your forehead, jaw clenched tight. “i’ll teach you.”

speaking it was like a death sentence, and you only wallowed in your own self-pity. how could Kate do this to you?

everyone assigned costume coordination had to know how to sew. it was part of the requirements. 

unless Kate pulled some strings.

you watched Simon spread out the costumes over the carpet like you had.

“did Kate put you up to this?”

Simon didn’t even pause to acknowledge you, picking at the garments until they were in neat rows.

“no.”

“so you joined the group… on your own accord?” the idea of it was staggering. Simon had looked downright trodden when sharing about himself with the group—not giving up much more than that he watched tv sometimes and read books sometimes. which, in your opinion, was what most people did in their freetime.

“not exactly,” he said, voice gruff, and you eyed him for a long moment before sighing, careful not to push him further.

you reached over for the costumes of his that needed the most attention. “i’ll take the most beat up ones—”

he ignored you, eyes trained on the clothes. “no. we’re a team. i can pull my weight.”

a bitter taste flooded your mouth. team.

“right, well, there are lots of youtube tutorials.”

he just nodded, gathering up the items and throwing them back in the box.

you heaved a sigh. “i’m assuming you don’t have sewing supplies?”

“i can buy some.”

you shook your head. “no need. next meeting i can bring some of mine. i have extra.”

“thought you said we needed to work on them by next meeting?”

his question was pure but it still set that irked fire rolling through your stomach. shoving the costumes back into your box, you mourned his attention to detail. you always thought he was only half-listening.

with your long silence, he offered, “i’ll buy some supplies.”

that ugly feeling trickled down to your chest. guilt. regret. “no just…”

you screwed your eyes shut, like couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“i live just down the block. just come to my place now and i can give you some if you really want to get a head start.”

you ignored his curious gaze as you picked up the box, and trudged your way out of the meeting room.

“alright.”

he followed you.

the entire walk to your apartment was silent.

a creeping awkward, muddled feeling prickled along your spine. it was almost unbearable, but the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot was more comforting than scrambling around for small talk.

arms beginning to ache with the effort of carrying the box of costumes, you felt a burst of relief at the sight of your brick red apartment complex just ahead. your steps quickened now, and you didn’t bother to see if Simon was following you closely or not. from the sound of his slow breath just beyond your shoulder, with a shudder, you could assume that he was.

you hopped up the steps, putting down the box and fumbling around in your bag for the keys to shove them into the old lock, scrambling around with half-frozen hands till it gave way. you stepped inside, not waiting to hold the door open for him as you rubbed your arms with a shudder. the heat blasted your numb face in the entrance hall, the white radiator working furiously by the door.

“cold?”

you jolted, turning sharply to him as he closed the door, looking completely content after walking a block in such low temperatures. maybe, you were just being overdramatic. or maybe it was because Simon was wearing a good couple more layers than you were.

“yeah,” you said, “are you not?”

he just shrugged. “got used to it from work.”

you found that strangely ominous, so you just gave him a curt nod in reply, picking up the box of costumes and turning to walk up the creaky stairs to the upper floor of the old building. you strode down the carpeted hall till you reached a faded red door.

your jerked your head to it, mumbling awkwardly, this is my place, before struggling with the keys again to open it. strangely, your heart thudded against your rib cage during the movements, prickling at the thought of his dark eyes watching you.

when you pushed the heavy door open, shoving your foot in the crack, you took one look inside and decided that you didn’t want Simon stepping anywhere near your home. especially not if you were alone. especially not if you were alone with a man.

“uh…” you trailed off, mouth opening and closing, then turning to him, leaning against the wall casually, then looked away, unable to make eye contact.

he shifted in your peripheral. “i’ll wait out here.”

you almost jolted at that, an airy bubble of shock breaking into your words as you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “are you sure?”

he nodded and you mumbled a slow apology, stepping inside your apartment with the box of costumes and letting the front door glide shut. that was… strange.

with a hefty sigh, you put down the box on the kitchen table, brushing the feeling away, and stripped yourself of your jacket, moving into your bedroom.

you pulled open the drawers of the storage containers on your desk, shuffling around for extra sewing supplies that you could spare and shoving them all into an extra bag that you didn’t use anymore. that bag happened to be an old, pink hello kitty zip-up pouch from middle school.

you hoped Simon wouldn’t be too irked by it as you zipped it up, then chided yourself for caring if he felt mad at you at all.

at that, you paused at your desk, fingers fiddling with the zipper as your mind whizzed through some thoughts. Simon hadn’t made any unnecessary advancements towards you. he hadn’t waltzed into your home like it was your own. he hadn’t pushed your boundaries when you obviously displayed them. he didn’t dump the workload on you because Kate had given him an assignment out of his skillset. 

he wasn’t even that talkative. you couldn’t even imagine him as being touchy. in fact, he was a good four feet from you at almost all times.

except when you were in that church basement.

you steadied yourself with deep, slow inhales, just like Kate had taught you. was this what Kate meant by trying to get better? forcing you to work with a man who she knew wouldn’t cross your boundaries?

and what did that mean for Simon? did he have something to work out over being near… women?

your support group specialized in a range of things. mostly, victims of sexual trauma. though, not all girls in the group came for that reason.

there was a bitter taste in your mouth. for some reason, it hadn’t dawned on you that Simon might’ve come, albeit seemingly dragged along by Kate, to the group for the same reason as you. 

as a victim of sexual trauma.

you cursed Kate and all her conspiring, reverse-psychology, psychic plans, quickly striding from your bedroom to the front door. you paused at the entrance, hand twitching over the knob, before twisting the door open with an apology already on your lips.

the words died in your throat at the sight of your new, brutish neighbor just steps from the door, conversing with Simon in an excited, low voice.

when he noticed you, a smile bloomed across his face. “hey, lass! how’re ye doin’?”

you almost withered. this was exactly the kind of men you avoided. talkative and touchy.

you cracked the door open a little wider, but not enough so that he could pull you into a friendly hug like he had done a couple days ago without warning. the memory of it had you in shivers behind the shield of the door.

Simon stood with crossed arms a step away from your neighbor, eyeing you with a dark curiosity that you chose to ignore.

“Johnny,” you chewed out, skipping any formalities. though it didn’t matter, because no matter how rude you could get, the scot would beam at you anyways.

“i was just talkin’ to yer friend here,” he said, slapping Simon on the back, who didn’t even flinch. “we’re coworkers! who would’ve guessed?”

he laughed, long and hearty, and you grimaced. “great.”

snaking a hand out of the crack of your front door, you handed the hello kitty pouch to Simon. the black mask shrouded half his face, but from the way his brows pinched together, eyes flitting up in a hard glance before glaring back down at the pink, worn thing, you thought he seemed irked. swallowing, you felt an ounce of guilt as Johnny watched the whole interaction with glee.

“i ken ye’ were a hello kitty guy, Ghost.”

“fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” he grumbled under his breath, snatching up the pouch from your hand.

you almost felt bad as Simon shoved it into the pocket of his sweatshirt, feeling as though you may have opened up a slew of new ways for Johnny to poke at Simon.

he turned sharply on his heel, looking like he was escaping the conversation just as much as you wanted to right now but—

you pushed open the door a tad wider, knocking into Johnny carelessly, who blundered back with a surprised oof. 

“wait!”

Simon slowly turned, peering at you from over his shoulder.

you hesitated, knowing Johnny’s eyes were picking apart the situation with an intense scrutiny that made you feel like shrinking into dust.

“i…”

you thought back to how you had felt a few minutes ago—the apology extracted from the simmering guilt in your gut. you looked over Simon, the tall, muscular strength of him, and felt something dark and wet twist your heart.

maybe not guilt, but sympathy.

the words of apology were on your lips, but you could see Johnny leaning forward into your peripheral, so instead you said, “are you busy tomorrow?”

he blinked at you. “no.”

“do you live far from here?”

“ten minutes by walk.”

not far at all, you realized, with a breath of relief. “there’s a cafe on the corner of smith and wellerstation. i work till six. i can teach you how to sew then.”

he just stared at you. “you don’t have to.”

i want to, you wanted to say.

but you never worked well with words or apologies, and after observing Simon, just in the short time you had met him, he seemed to share somewhat of the same qualities.

“just be there,” you shot out quickly with an annoyed flush, and then slammed the door shut.

standing in your apartment for a moment, a silence filling the air, you deliberated before shoving the door open again, nearly missing Johnny by a hair.

he startled when you stuck your head out to peer at him.

“have a good evening,” you snapped, and he opened his mouth to say something, maybe shocked because you had never taken such formality to be nice to him before, but you shut the door in his face before he could get anything out.

finally, at peace and alone in your own apartment, you trudged over to grab the box of costumes and hauled it by your couch before stepping into your bedroom to snatch up the bag of your sewing supplies.

you sank onto the couch with a deep sigh, fiddled with the remote to switch on an episode of that new k-drama on netflix. 

restitching the fraying seams of the little witch dress, eyes flitting between the fabric in your hands and the tv screen, as much as you bit back the thoughts with your lower lip trapped beneath your teeth, your mind drifted far away to think of the man you’d be teaching to sew tomorrow.

this chapter is pretty short and not interesting imo, but just wait till the next one oml 😵‍💫 shit goes down

wait also please ignore the gaping, massive plot holes in this story. half of it doesn’t really make any sense but likkkeeeee Simon x halloween x therapy support group had me in a chokehold… it’s giving the faults in our stars or smth but i love writing this au

i say that: 1. kate has retired/stopped working in military 2. i really dont know if this is taking place in america or uk bc in my head its very much america w like halloween type stuff and all the minor characters are american in my brain so pls just ignore everything that does not make sense ty 😇 3. oh also i like to think that johnny moved near simon just to terrorize him 😇 4. ok anyways ive been rambling on for so long i hope you enjoy this part!! 💞

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife@froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths@ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99 @mystsee @cosmoscoffeee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdream @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @moonstonedeluluera

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

You belong with me | L.N.

Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: Nothing is more painful than two people being scared of how much they love each other.

Warnings: angst, fluff, idiots in love <3

Word count: ~2.3K

^^ It‘s funny to look back at the past that had brought you into this situation. Which is being an F1 driver and helplessly in love with your best friend and racing partner.

Lando and you have been inseparable since your early karting days, in turn developing a strong bond over your shared love for the sport which grew more as you got to know each other better. You were both childish still, no matter the fact that you were nearing your mid 20‘s. But that was what you loved about you two as a pair. There was never judgment from the other and what one lacked the other filled perfectly.

Throughout the close friendship there were a few mishaps when the threshold of friendship had been overstepped but there was always a girlfriend or a boyfriend at the time holding you two restrained and loyal.

So naturally when you two finally became single at the same time and got signed into McLaren’s F1 team all you could think about was. This is it. Now is our time.

And as on queue Lando organized you a surprise. Just the two of you, middle of the starry summer’s night with the city lights below your feet. You were smiling so much that night, your cheeks had started to hurt, but how could you not smile when he was next to you, paying his whole attention to you and making you laugh.

You were sure that he was going to ask you out that night.

And then he didn’t’. It could not have been a more painful experience, but you kept up your smile even if your eyes had faded, no longer admiring the boy next to you, that was just too miserable.

Unrequited love was miserable.

Or so you had thought until about a month later when Lando brought in a girl for everyone to meet calling her his girlfriend.

Just then unrequited love became agonizing.

Your Lando was known for his cheerful disposition and infectious laughter. He was easily the happiest boy around! Well until the said girlfriend…

It was only a few weeks later that you noticed your friends’ colours fade.

About two months in the others started noticing and drilling you about it.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You two are best friends, you have to know what’s causing him so much stress lately” Carlos was making too many hand movements due to his own distress.

“I just don’t know, we don’t talk that much these days” you tucked your hair into your cap and stomped away from the Spaniard.

You didn’t want to admit it to Carlos or anyone else, but you and Lando weren’t the great friends you used to be.

You surely kept your distance since he got his girlfriend out of sheer respect to their relationship (and respect to your own mental health). Although it still seemed not enough for his girlfriend as on a few instances you caught her yelling at Lando in the cool offs to stop the friendship you shared.

To say the least that definitely put a wall between you two, but nevertheless it didn’t completely break your bond.

Now, nine months and one nasty breakup later the unrequited love feels excruciating.

A shadow has fallen over Lando’s already tainted personality. He was going through a painful breakup with his now ex-girlfriend. She had been a constant presence in his life for the past year, controlling his every move, every word and god forbid he didn’t get the right amount of points… Safe to say she was sucking life out of him as a ravenous vampire, though Lando was too blind to see that.

The breakup had taken a toll on Lando, leaving him almost senseless now that he was out of her hold, and it showed in his performance on the track. During the qualifying session for the upcoming race, he couldn't find his usual rhythm and ended up with a DNF after driving himself into a wall.

As he stepped out of his car, disappointment weighed heavily on him. Lando felt like he was losing everything now and the sadness from his failures compounded his frustration.

You had been there for Lando throughout the tumultuous relationship, supporting him in all the little ways you could, checking in before and after races and offering a listening ear whenever you could see him about to reach his limits.

But on this particular day, you could no longer listen to him whining about her, you have reached a breaking point. You couldn’t stand by and watch the man you cared for so deeply be consumed by a toxic woman who had done nothing but break him piece by piece for the past year.

"If I was better, she would still be with me." You heard Lando mumble as he laid on the sofa emotionless.

"LANDO STOP! You must be insane to be saying those things. How can you say that you're not enough? She was the one who didn't care about you, who was never here to support you. Lando, it's her who didn't deserve you, not the other way around!" you snapped, voice filled with tears.

"You don't get it. If I was enough, wouldn't there be girls who like me? Because not one of my girlfriends have actually liked me or, god forbid, loved me." Lando was drowning in self-doubt and it was suffocating you to the point where your heart physically ached seeing him so beat up.

"Can't you see why that is? Maybe you don't belong with any of those girls? Lando, maybe you belong with someone who loves you through your highs and lows, someone who can't bear to see you sad, someone who lets you cry into their shoulder in the middle of the night, and, most importantly, someone who can't stand watching you break yourself over some girl," frustration evident in your trembling voice muddled Lando.

"What are you trying to say, Y/n?"

You hesitated, heart racing, as you contemplated revealing your true feelings. "All this time, Lando, and you still can't see it."

Lando was bewildered, not comprehending your cryptic words. "See what?"

You were burning with passion, on the brink of confessing your feelings, but ultimately bit your tongue. You were praying for him, but he could not understand and you believed he never would and to express the delicate feelings right now seemed futile.

"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head to rid of the emotions taking over your rational brain, and left the room to preserve your patched up heart.

As you retreated, a storm of emotions raged within. You couldn't help but wonder if there would ever come a day when Lando would realize the truth you had left unsaid.

Your words left Lando conflicted and he hated it.

You were someone he could always count on to understand. Hell he never needed to read you, you were like a road he had taken day after day, he knew you so well, he could navigate without his senses.

Lando found himself seeking friendly counsel from Carlos, as he was still perplexed by your reaction and couldn't fathom why you had gotten so upset with him.

"I don't understand why she's so mad at me?! Can you believe it, she was even crying. I'm the one that got dumped, and she's pissed at me for picking the wrong girl?!" Lando vented pulling at his hair, frustration lacing his voice.

Carlos regarded him thoughtfully before posing a question that made Lando pause and reflect. "Lando, let me ask you this. If Y/n was dating a guy who constantly made her doubt herself and feel like shit, how would you feel?"

Lando’s response was interlaced with confusion, "Why the hell would she even date someone like that?"

"So to say you'd be pissed as well?" Carlos continued.

Lando struggled to find words to counter Carlos's argument. He had a point, and Lando was beginning to see things from a different perspective. "But I..."

Carlos interrupted him with a knowing smirk forming on his face, "You what?"

Lando thought about it, connecting the dots between his protective feelings for you and the turmoil he had experienced during his recent relationship. Carlos decided to push him closer to an epiphany.

"When you like someone, you don't want to see them hurting, but it's different to feel the pain of the other person. That's closer to-"

"Love," Lando finished, realization dawning. He abruptly grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door with a clear destination in mind.

It was time for Lando to confront the truth he had been avoiding, and perhaps, in the process, he might finally get what he had always wanted. You and love.

Everything was suddenly falling into place for Lando. He began to understand why you had never wanted to hang out whenever he got into a relationship, why you cried when he cried, why you sacrificed your sleep just to listen to him rant about the terrible things his ex had done, and crack jokes to make him smile. It all made sense, and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.

Deep down, he had always known that the girls he dated were just placeholders, a way to distract himself from the perfect girl he felt undeserving of his whole life.

He had a brilliant idea last year when you both secured your McLaren positions. He planned a whole midnight drive and stargazing, which he knew you loved (that also prompted him to learn constellations for weeks before the special day, only to impress you). He wanted to ask you to be his and make it magical, but ultimately chickened out.

When the next day came around he could not face you and instead of spending the last few days before training with you he headed to a bar where he met his now ex. She was pretty and showed so much interest in him he could not not get hooked.

In that moment of absolute weakness Lando decided that having a girlfriend would solve the problem of loving his best friend and potentially ruining the friendship.

He could not have been more wrong. The relationship was an absolute hellhole, filled with insecurities and so many fights that he could no longer see himself as he looked in the mirror. Still no matter how bad his life got, he felt he deserved the purgatory for letting you slip through his fingers when he just had to hold on to you a bit tighter.

He’d never forgive himself for wasting so much time pushing you away. But he wasn’t going to settle for that. Lando was still a fighter. And fighting for you… well that now felt like his birthright.

“It's you!" Lando exclaimed bursting through the door, his voice echoing through the garage, his eyes locked directly on your form, disrupting the calm chatter around the room.

The entire room came to a standstill, eyebrows furrowing, and the atmosphere thick with confusion. Your eyes found his, equally as bewildered as the rest of the staff in the room.

Lando repeated himself, his breathy voice much lighter and softer than before. "It's you."

"Me what?" You asked, face still a mix of confusion as you tried to grasp the meaning of his words.

With each step he took closer to you, your heartbeat quickened, uncertain of the nature of those words, and just how much was hidden beneath them.

"It's always been you," Lando confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've never loved anyone because you've held my heart since you smiled at me on your first day in karting. I have loved you this whole time, but I was too scared and too stupid, honestly, to do anything about it, letting myself push away my feelings by running to someone else. But I'm not scared anymore because you don't deserve to be loved silently and from afar. You are the kind of woman that is meant to be loved loudly, with no second thoughts."

“Lan…” words deceived you.

“I love you Y/n and I’m not afraid to feel it and say it anymore. And I hope that one day you can tell me that you love me too” his hands found yours, the touch of his skin on your hands felt different.

Your cheeks heat up with his confession and you search his eyes who confirm his words to be true. He does love you. And you love him too. You’ve thought your love for him unrequited for so long that hearing him say those words to you seems like a daydream.

You realize by his fading eyes that you’ve been too silent through his confession. You know exactly what the look of doubt looks like on Lando’s face and you speak up quickly promising yourself that you’ll never be the cause of that distressing look on his face.

“Took you long enough to realize Norris” you chuckle pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He catches up to you quickly wrapping his arms around you waist deepening the kiss.

“You belong with me.” He whispers, the warm words fall on your lips right before he kisses you again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

The room erupted in cheers and applause, congratulating the new couple. Finally, Lando had found what he had been searching for all along, right by his side, and you got what you’d been wishing for since you were little. A two sided love. You both were ready to embrace your love openly, no longer bound by doubt and hesitation.

^^

A.N. back again with that Taylor Swift inspiration :3

P.s. I think my neighbors hate me because I be listening to one song on repeat for like 4h..... *skull emoji*

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

As the new F1 season begins, a wave of anticipation and excitement envelops both Natalie and Lando. For Lando, the racetrack is not just a place to showcase his driving prowess; it's a canvas where he paints his aspirations of success. The aspiration to perform consistently, stand atop the podium, and clinch victories symbolises his hunger for glory. This season represents a pivotal moment in his career, a chance to transcend from promising talent to a formidable force in Formula 1.

Lando's focus on consistent performance indicates a strategic approach to the season. He understands the importance of not just individual brilliance but also the need for a sustained effort across races. The podium is not merely a physical platform; it's a symbol of accomplishment and recognition. Standing there signifies that Lando has not only met but exceeded expectations. Each race becomes an opportunity for him to etch his name in the history of McLaren and Formula 1.

Meanwhile, for Natalie, the new season brings its own set of challenges and goals. Her role as Lando's PR Manager is not just about managing media interactions and public relations; it's about crafting and enhancing Lando's image both on and off the track. The challenge lies in maintaining a delicate balance between showcasing Lando's personality and ensuring a positive public perception.

However, Natalie's ambitions reach beyond the immediate season. She envisions herself as more than just a PR Manager; her goal is to ascend to the position of managing the entire McLaren F1 team. This aspiration reflects not only her confidence in her abilities but also her commitment to the long-term success of the team. Solidifying her role with Lando is a stepping stone toward greater responsibilities within the McLaren organisation.

“I haven’t seen Lucas around. Is he still coming to watch the race?” Lando innocently asks Natalie as they sit in his driver’s room with Lando signing caps and other McLaren merchandise.

“I doubt it.” Natalie responds, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. How come?” Lando asks, confused.

“We broke up.” Natalie informs him as she hands him the next batch of caps to sign.

“When did that happen? He didn’t mention anything to me.” Lando continues to pry.

“After Christmas.” Natalie bluntly answers.

Lando's signature hand pauses mid-air as he processes Natalie's revelation. The room, once filled with the mechanical hum of the race cars outside, now echoes with the weight of unexpected news. His innocent inquiry unravels a personal chapter that Natalie had kept tightly closed for months.

The dynamics between Lando and Lucas had always been a delicate balance, their interactions shaped by a shared connection with Natalie. While Lando and Lucas managed to find common ground and form a semblance of friendship, the undercurrent of tension remained, fueled by Lando's observations of how Lucas treated Natalie during her first season with McLaren the year prior.

Natalie had been the bridge between the two, her professional role demanding a level of collaboration between her boyfriend and the driver she worked with. Lando, appreciating the importance of maintaining a harmonious team atmosphere, tried to put aside his personal reservations for the sake of professionalism. However, it wasn't easy for him to look past Lucas's treatment of Natalie.

Lando, inherently protective of those close to him, struggled to like Lucas when he witnessed moments of disrespect or insensitivity toward Natalie. It wasn't just about professional courtesy; it was a matter of personal values. Lando valued the people around him, especially those who supported him in various capacities, and seeing someone mistreat Natalie sparked a sense of loyalty and concern.

In those moments, Lando found himself grappling with the conflict between friendship and principle. While he maintained a civil demeanour and tried to foster a positive atmosphere with Lucas, there were times when he couldn't suppress his disapproval of Lucas's behaviour. The struggle to balance his personal feelings with the need for a cohesive team dynamic presented an ongoing challenge for Lando.

Natalie, caught in the middle, appreciated Lando's support but also urged him to prioritise the professional environment. She understood the complexities of the situation and attempted to keep the personal and professional spheres separate. However, the tension lingered, adding an additional layer of complexity to the dynamics within the McLaren team.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” Lando says, the tone of his voice now tinged with concern. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awkwardness settling in the room. The merchandise, once a simple part of race day preparations, now carries an unexpected emotional weight.

Natalie maintains her focus on the merchandise, her eyes fixed on the caps as she avoids direct eye contact with Lando. The revelation casts a subtle shadow over the room, and she is determined to carry on with their professional tasks, steering clear of the personal. Lando, however, can't let it go

“After Christmas? Why didn't you tell me?” Lando asks, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

“Honestly, I was just trying to keep my head above water.” Natalie confesses, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and resilience. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Remember, we dated before I moved to the UK. We lived together, so I had to get my own place and move all my stuff."

Lucas, her high school sweetheart, had been her anchor for six years. Their journey had taken them from South Africa to the UK, where Natalie pursued her studies and Lucas secured a job opportunity in London. He was more than just a partner; he represented home, stability, and a significant chapter of her life.

Despite the duration of their relationship and the shared history, Natalie found herself in a place of grief. The breakup marked the end of a long-standing connection, and the process of disentangling their lives proved to be a challenging and emotional endeavour. Lucas had been her constant, her support system, even if it came at a cost.

Lucas's treatment toward Natalie painted a stark contrast to the nostalgia that might have lingered in her heart. The emotional toll of being screamed at, called names, and enduring his disdain for her job added a layer of complexity to the grieving process. Despite the toxicity, the familiarity of their history made it difficult for Natalie to sever those emotional ties completely.

Lando, now privy to the depths of Natalie's experience, feels a surge of empathy and concern. He realises that her grief wasn't solely about the end of a romantic relationship but also the dismantling of a life she had built with someone who, at one point, had been her everything.

Lucas merely befriended Lando with ulterior motives as to ensure nothing would ever foster emotionally between Lando and Natalie because of their close working relationship. Lando, who had tried to maintain a friendship despite his reservations about Lucas's treatment of Natalie, now grapples with a newfound understanding of the underlying dynamics.

“You should have told me, then I could have helped you.” Lando mumbles, his eyes convey a mixture of regret and genuine concern .

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?” Natalie, ever resilient, responds with a subtle smile.

“Nattie, seriously. Are you OK?” Lando genuinely asks, his voice reflecting a sincerity that transcends their professional relationship.

“I’m better now.” Natalie assures him, her small smile carrying a hint of gratitude.

The acknowledgment of Lando's concern created a bridge between them, a reminder that beyond the race strategies and public relations duties, they were individuals navigating the complexities of life.

Lando's soft spot for Natalie had been evident from the very beginning, stretching back to her first day at the McLaren Technology Centre over a year ago. There was something about her kindness, dedication, and unwavering support that resonated with him. As they travelled the globe together for races, a bond formed, rooted in mutual respect and trust.

The introduction to Lucas after the first race of the previous season brought about a different dynamic. Lando, despite his efforts to maintain harmony, couldn't comprehend the connection between Natalie and Lucas. They seemed like polar opposites, and Lucas's penchant for criticising Natalie's work only deepened Lando's reservations.

Despite his disapproval, Lando tried to bridge the gap by inviting Lucas out, attempting to understand the dynamics of their relationship. However, in those moments, he couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie deserved better. Lucas's possessive and objectifying attitude towards Natalie grated on Lando's sensibilities, making him acutely aware of the stark difference in how they viewed and treated her.

Lando grappled with the discomfort of witnessing someone he considered a friend be treated in such a way. The distaste for Lucas's disrespectful remarks and possessive demeanour fueled an internal conflict, as Lando navigated the fine line between maintaining professional courtesy and expressing his concern for Natalie.

Despite his observations, Lando refrained from explicitly sharing his thoughts with Natalie. He respected her independence and knew she was capable of making her own decisions. Yet, he held onto the hope that she would see Lucas for who he truly was - and she finally did. The news of Natalie ending things with Lucas brought a sense of relief to Lando. He felt genuinely happy for her, recognizing that she could now move forward with her life unburdened by a toxic relationship.

“Anyway, enough about me” Natalie states, her tone lightening. “Did a special lady pop up since I last saw you?”

“Nope. Still just me, myself, and I.” Lando chuckles in response, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“The fans are going to have a field day knowing you're still single.” Natalie playfully adds.

“I'm happy to be single until I find someone who ticks all the boxes.” Lando, unbothered, responds with a confident grin.

Lando reassuringly squeezes Natalie’s shoulder before he hurries off to speak with his race engineer. Natalie takes a seat behind the screens and pops on a headset as she watches replays of qualifying the day before. The ambient sounds of the garage, a mix of distant engine roars and muffled conversations, create a dynamic backdrop to the focused atmosphere.

With the headset snugly in place, Natalie's attention sharpens on the screens in front of her. The glow illuminates her face as she immerses herself in the detailed analysis of the team's performance during the qualifying session. The occasional chatter over the headset and the intermittent sounds of tools and equipment being handled blend into a rhythmic symphony, underscoring the team's preparation for the imminent race.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Congratulations, Lando, on a great race today. What does this mean for the rest of the season?” The enthusiastic interviewer asks Lando.

“Appreciate it. Big shoutout to the McLaren crew for their grind during the winter break, putting together a solid car. We're still getting the hang of the new machine, but snagging second and fourth at the season kick-off is a promising start. Looking forward to unleashing this beast on the other tracks.” Lando explains, sweat dripping down his brow from the hot race he had just completed.

“You seemed to have a busy winter break. What, or who, do you think helped get you into a positive mindset coming into this season?” The interviewer continues.

“Honestly, just spending time with my family and friends was a great reminder to remain humble and appreciate the small moments in life. I lost my granddad over the winter break, so that kind of put things into perspective for me.” Lando answers, wiping away the sweat with a towel.

“And, no lucky lady to celebrate your P2 tonight?” The interviewer chuckles.

Natalie's gaze lifts to the interviewer, registering the conspicuous absence of sympathy in their response to Lando's revelation. The weight of the loss he had shared seemed to hang in the air, untouched by the expected words of condolence or empathy. Unsettled by the apparent oversight, Natalie decides to intervene, steering the conversation in a more considerate direction.

“That’s all we have time for, thank you.” Natalie declares - her tone firm - as she guides Lando away from the glaring cameras and back into the welcoming confines of the hospitality building. Lando, still processing the insensitive turn of the interview, quickened his pace to keep up with Natalie through the hallways. “Absolutely crass.”

“What’s that?” Lando questions, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“I sometimes forget how classless the media can be. Seriously, you disclose the fact that you lost your grandfather and she makes no effort to express her sympathy.” Natalie explains, her voice tinged with a blend of disappointment and protective concern for her driver.

The weight of recent events hung heavy on Natalie's heart as she made the journey to the UK to attend Lando's grandfather's funeral. Mere days after her breakup with Lucas, her own heartbreak was set aside as she prioritised being there for Lando and offering support to him and his grieving family. The bond with Lando's family had grown strong since she joined McLaren, with invitations to holiday events making her feel like an extended member of their close-knit circle.

Lando's family had always gone above and beyond to include her in their gatherings. The previous Easter weekend, when she couldn't travel back to South Africa to be with her own family, they had made her feel welcomed and loved. These gestures had forged a sense of belonging, making Lando's family an integral part of her life.

Sitting in the back of the church during the funeral, Natalie observed the waves of grief that swept over Lando and his family. Tears and sobs echoed in the sombre atmosphere as they mourned the loss of their beloved family member. Natalie, despite her own struggles and heartache, focused on providing the support that Lando and his family needed during this difficult time.

It was precisely the depth of this loss that left Natalie annoyed by the subsequent interviewer's callousness. The media had no idea how profoundly the death had rocked Lando's family, and their lack of empathy struck a nerve with Natalie. The disconnect between the public facade and the private grief was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by individuals in the public eye, and Natalie, protective of those she cared about, found herself grappling with a mix of emotions as she navigated the intricate tapestry of personal and professional relationships within the McLaren family.

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lando offers, attempting to console Natalie. “Like I said to her, it puts things in a different perspective.”

Natalie glances at Lando over her shoulder, and a sense of relief washes over her. His calm demeanour and understanding response reassure her. He doesn't seem upset by the insensitive question or the lack of empathy from the interviewer, giving Natalie a cue to let go of her annoyance. Natalie takes a deep breath, appreciating the support from Lando and the acknowledgment that some things are beyond their control.

- THAT NIGHT -

“It’s been a stellar start to the year and we’re looking forward to seeing where Lando and Oscar take McLaren this year. Here’s to a brilliant season.” Zak Brown declares with a smile as he raises his champagne flute for a toast at the McLaren start-of-the-season dinner.

The long table is filled with the McLaren team, a diverse group ranging from mechanics to engineers to marketing officials. Zak's words resonate, creating a moment of shared excitement and anticipation for the upcoming season. After the toast, the team engages in lively conversation and indulges in the dinner spread.

Seated between the two drivers, Natalie finds herself immersed in a discussion about a specific corner at the Bahrain Grand Prix, a topic that unites the trio. Lando, with a casual ease, rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair as he leans over to chat with Oscar. Natalie, sitting back, feels a sense of relaxation and peace. It's a stark contrast to the weeks of turmoil since her relationship ended. In the midst of her team, surrounded by people who share her passion for racing, Natalie rediscovers a familiar sense of joy and camaraderie.

“It was smooth. I don’t think I’ve taken that corner that well before.” Lando adds with a grin as he engages in conversation with his teammate.

Their camaraderie, evolving from being teammates to friends, is evident in their banter. The second season together has brought about a deeper understanding, and the shared experiences on the track have solidified their connection.

“Compared to DNFing last year, this was by far one of my favourite races yet.” Oscar comments, his enthusiasm evident in his words. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, he gets distracted by someone to his left, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Lando observes, his light nudge to Natalie's ribs coaxing a small smile from her.

“Just taking everything in. I missed this.” She explains, her gaze wandering across the lively scene around them.

“I suppose it helps not having someone constantly messaging you to find out what you’re doing.” Lando comments before realising the weight of his words.

“There is that too.” Natalie agrees, her chuckle carrying a hint of relief.

“I know it must be difficult, but I’m just glad you’ll be able to enjoy your life without feeling guilty.” Lando tells her, his eyes meeting hers. With a subtle gesture, he removes his arm from the back of her chair, proceeding to savour his dessert.

He had found her crying in the paddock one too many times last season to not be relieved about her leaving Lucas. Lando had been an inadvertent witness to the toll their relationship was taking on Natalie's mental health and self-esteem. He had seen the tears, heard the phone calls, and been privy to the distressing text messages. It was evident that the relationship had become a source of emotional strain and turmoil for her.

For Lando, seeing Natalie break free from the shackles of that tumultuous relationship was a cause for genuine happiness. He knew she deserved to live her life peacefully and without the heavy burden of regrets. The bond they shared within the McLaren family went beyond the racetrack; it extended into the realm of personal well-being. Lando, having witnessed Natalie's struggles, felt a profound sense of relief knowing that she could now move forward and find the tranquillity and happiness she deserved.

“And, for what it’s worth, you seem happier.” Lando adds, his genuine concern and care evident as he spoons a mouthful of Tiramisu into his mouth.

Natalie smiles in response, savouring a bite of her lemon cheesecake. The bond between her and Lando had been instantaneous when she started working for McLaren. Circumstances dictated their closeness as they spent more time together than with their own friends or family. Lando's visits home to his parents often included Natalie, who had no family or friends in the UK or Monaco until Lucas moved to the UK.

A shift occurred when Lucas moved to London, becoming a more constant presence in Natalie's life. She moved in with him, and the dynamic with Lando changed. Lucas's insecurity cast a shadow over her friendship with Lando, even though it was an integral part of her professional responsibilities to be by his side at races and media appearances. The relationship became stifling, with Lucas questioning Natalie's every move and decision. Lando, recognizing the toxicity of the situation, did his best to support Natalie and mitigate the escalating tensions.

“My parents are going to be in Jeddah next weekend. They’ve been dying to see you.” Lando tells Natalie.

“I’ve missed them so much.” Natalie admits with a genuine smile, the warmth of her emotions evident. “And, your sisters, of course.”

“They’re coming as well.” Lando adds, causing her smile to grow even bigger. The anticipation of reuniting with familiar faces, especially those who have become a second family to her, adds an extra layer of joy to the upcoming weekend.

As Lando and Natalie stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted them, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dinner venue. The decision to walk back to the hotel seemed like a natural extension of the camaraderie they shared, and the short distance only added to the appeal.

The city's evening lights painted a picturesque scene around them as they strolled along the illuminated streets. The ambient sounds of the city, a harmonious blend of distant traffic hums and the occasional laughter from nearby cafes, created a tranquil backdrop for their conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” Lando bluntly asks her.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, confused.

“What made you finally break up with him?” He clarifies.

“It was a series of things that happened leading up to Christmas. We obviously went home to celebrate Christmas with our families back home. I got him this stunning watch he had been raving over for months, gave it to him and he was so uninterested in it. I mean, I get it, tastes fade, but I spent quite a bit of money on it and he was so unappreciative of it. And, he literally gifted me a notebook set that he must have bought the day before, no thought whatsoever.” Natalie starts. “Then as we got back to the guesthouse after dinner, he started complaining that I spent all day on my phone and demanded to see who I was texting. So, I gave him my phone and, honestly, I still don’t quite know what he saw, but he threw my phone against the wall and it broke, obviously.”

“So, he was getting physically aggressive?” Lando asks.

“Very much. When I asked him why he threw my phone, he went on this tirade about how he knew I was cheating on him, blah, blah, blah, and before I knew it, I was shoved into a door. Bruised my arm pretty badly. And, that was it. I don’t think I ever felt that disgusted in my life. I took my stuff, drove back to my Mom’s and booked a flight back. Luckily I had a spare phone. And, when I got back to London, I started packing my stuff and then you let me know about your granddad, then I was on my way to you.” Natalie elaborates.

“I had no idea things got so out of hand.” Lando mutters as they continue to stroll at a leisurely pace towards the hotel.

“I should have ended things far sooner looking back.” Natalie comments as she shoves her hands into her jacket’s pockets.

The two continue to walk in silence, the weight of Natalie's revelation hanging in the air. Deep down, Lando's blood boils with a mixture of anger and frustration. The idea that Natalie had endured such emotional and physical trauma at the hands of someone who claimed to love her fills him with a sense of indignation.

As they navigate the quiet streets, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps is punctuated by the heavy thoughts that occupy their minds. Lando, usually so composed, finds himself grappling with the harsh reality of Natalie's experiences.

“Just know that I’m here no matter what. If he even tries to contact you or anything, you let me know.” Lando blurts out.

“Thank you.” Natalie shyly agrees as he pulls her under his arm.

In that moment, their protectiveness for each other takes on a new level. The unspoken understanding between them solidifies into a spoken promise of support and vigilance. Lando's words carry a weight of sincerity, a commitment to stand by Natalie's side through whatever challenges may arise.

Their bond, forged through shared experiences and a genuine friendship, becomes a fortress against the trials of life. They have each other's backs, ready to go to battle if it means preserving the other’s sanity. The unyielding loyalty they share is a testament to the strength of their connection.

They make a formidable team, and in each other's company, they find solace, strength, and a profound understanding that transcends the confines of their roles within McLaren.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1967 Ford Mustang

The 1967 model year Mustang was the first significant redesign of the original model. Ford's designers began drawing up a larger version even as the original was achieving sales success, and while "Iacocca later complained about the Mustang's growth, he did oversee the redesign for 1967 ."The major mechanical feature was to allow the installation of a big-block V8 engine. The overall size, interior and cargo space were increased. Exterior trim changes included concave taillights, side scoop (1967 model) and chrome (1968 model) side ornamentation, square rear-view mirrors, and usual yearly wheel and gas cap changes. The high-performance 289 option was placed behind the newer 335 hp (250 kW; 340 PS) 390 cu in (6.4 L) FE engine from the Ford Thunderbird, which was equipped with a four-barrel carburetor. During the mid-1968 model year, a drag racer for the street could be ordered with the optional 428 cu in (7.0 L) Cobra Jet engine which was officially rated at 335 hp (250 kW; 340 PS) all of these Mustangs were issued R codes on their VINs.

[wafflesrisa]

Checo does not deserve a 2 year extension by any means. But let’s put the thinking cap on and analyse the shit out of this:

It’s very likely there is a performance clause in that contract (e.g. p2 in the drivers’, p1 in the constructors)

It’s a 1+1 contract

We know that the VCARB and RBR driver contracts have a clause allowing driver swaps up and down from the main team

Therefore we can assume that:

Red Bull want to hedge their bets by keeping Checo in that seat - he’s washed, but if he’s not washed enough to lose their constructors’ title then he may be exactly the kind of grunt work teammate Red Bull want as the second driver.

If Checo does underperform, he might breach the performance clause or otherwise fail to hit the targets to trigger the +1 term of his contract.

If Checo underperforms severely (and this is pure speculation) Red Bull can always switch him out mid season if need be and replace him with someone from VCARB (likely Daniel).

All in all, a predictable play from Red Bull Racing but damn if it isn’t boring

[swiss-mrs]

Black Velvet

Captain Syverson x Country Singer!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Unhinged delulus as usual, Fluff AF

Warnings: Brief Song Lyrics (?), Songs Linked in Fic, Sy is in his mid-thirties.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (Modern Western/Ranchera Wear), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "lady"

Synopsis: Sy and his hometown friends go out to a bar, and surprise surprise it's karaoke night. This beautiful cowgirl stands out from the rest when she goes up to absolutely nail one of Sy's Greatest Hits.

Pt. 2, as highly requested

“Good to have you back, bud!” a hand claps down on Sy's muscle hardened shoulder with a squeeze as the small group of men walk into a bar.

“Next up, we have,” an announcer says into the mic, “Tanner George singin’ 'That's My Kind Of Night'.'' The boys stop short as soon as they walk through the door, it swinging closed behind them.

“Aye! You ain't say nothin’ about no karaoke.”

“Come on, man. Does it look like I knew?” Sy's friends bicker back and forth.

“Yo, let's just make this stop number one. Make fun of the hogs on stage over a few beers then move on to the next.” a third and final voice rings out. The blonde cowboy pushes through the crew and heads straight to a booth near the bar, farthest away from the stage. The other two friends continue bickering under their breaths as they follow. Sy chuckles and shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the boys.

The plaid shirt man on stage wasn't terrible, but it was obvious he was no singer. Must've been the beer that got him up there.

As Sy walked back to the now occupied booth, he noticed a group of girls whooping and hollering at the man on stage, one of the girls wearing a tiara and “Birthday Girl” sash. He raises a brow at them before averting his gaze.

The boys get their first round of pints just as the man making an ass of himself stumbles off stage. A couple of minutes go by of them shooting the shit, catching up, long enough for three girls from that birthday party to go up and absolutely bucher Shania twice in a row. The boys needed another round alone just to get through it.

Just as they were about to reach the bottom of their 3rd round, the announcer came back up. “Alriigghht, thank you ladies. Next up,” He announces the next act, a soloist, before disappearing stage right. A beautiful woman with a pristine cowboy hat, ironed bootcut jeans, and long sleeve button down shirt tied off in the front. You were breathtaking to say the least.

As soon as Sy catches sight of you, the laughs and voices of his buddies fall on deaf ears. He is utterly focused on you, suddenly and anxiously awaiting your performance.

As you close in on the mic, two girls at the bar start cheering you on. He lets his eyes wander from you to glance at the bar. “You go, girl!” That must be who you came here with, Sy figures.

As the first guitar riff plays through the speakers, Sy's eyes are immediately back on you, catching the tail end of your bashful smile and shake of your head. Good choice, he thought, nodding with an impressed frown.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving to the heavy beat with a scrunched nose. Your friends start going off like crazed fangirls, spurring you on.

“Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell,

Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high.” Sy's brows shoot up underneath the bill of his trucker cap. He didn't have many expectations, but that was not what he was expecting. You could sing, like actually sing. You weren't even looking at the screen for lyrics. Your eyes were up, staring at the wall across the bar. It was like you were singing out into an invisible arena, confident and gone to the music.

He was so entranced by your performance that he didn't catch when a question was thrown to him by his friends, trying to include him in their conversation. As soon as they turned to him and realized he paid them no mind, their eyes followed his gaze to you. To say they were impressed was an understatement. They murmured amongst themselves, devising an untold plan.

“Ow!” one of your friends whoop during the instrumental break between the chorus and second verse, the other letting out a whistle.

“Up in Memphis, the music's like a heatwave.” You look out at the crowd of the bar.

“White lightning, bound to drive you wild.” Everyone's returning your gaze.

“Mama's baby's in the heart of every schoolgirl

‘Love Me Tender’ leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.” Multiple patrons now join in the cheering, bopping their heads and taping silver rings on their pint glasses.

“The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true

Always wanting more,” Your eyes make their way to Sy's direction, stopping his heart for a moment.

“He'd leave you longing for

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please.” Sy couldn't be sure if you were actually looking at him from this distance, but, Lord almighty, whether you could see him or not did not change the effect you had on him. Unbeknownst to him, his blond buddy made his way out the booth and towards the bar to the girls cheering you on.

“Evenin’, ladies.” The two girls take their attention off your singing and to the man who now stood beside them.

“Hi.” “Heyyy.” They reply at the same time, one a bit more flirty than the other. He puts on his charm, leading against the bar with a heart stopping grin, showing off his perfect teeth.

“I'm assumin’ y'all are together?” he motions to the girls and to you on stage. They both nod.

“And what's it to ya?” Your friend asks with a raised brow, dropping her flirtatious ways and going straight into suspicion. Her change doesn't falter the cowboy'. He had an objective.

“Well, ya see, my friend over there in the trucker hat,” He points behind him, the girls’ eyes following his finger. “seems to be a bit smitten by your girl up there.” He nods in your direction. “He may not look it, but he's a bit, uh… reserved.” He pauses, “He just got back from a tour in Iraq, and I just know he won't have the balls to go up to her himself.” The girls glance at each other, having a silent conversation. Physically, he was totally your type, hell he was everyone's type. “Figured you girls would know best. You think Ms. American Idol would be interested?” he asks. The girls nod to each other.

“She's interested.” They say in sync. 

“He's totally her type.” The cowboy's grin widens at the girl's confirmation. He nods.

“Alright, that's what I like to hear.” He smirks. “I'll send him over.” He winks and tips his hat as a farewell gesture before heading back to his booth. The other two boys watched him. He gives them a nod and two thumbs up as he walks towards them.

You finish the last few add libs to your set as the music fades out. As soon as the track stops, the entire bar erupts with cheers and applause. Though everyone was loud, you could still hear your two friends over the rest. It brings a big smile to your face. You do a small bow and leave the stage, swapping places with the announcer. “Alright! How ‘bout that! Looks like we got ourselves a local superstar in the house!” You look down, trying to hide your warming face under your hat.

You make it back to your spot next to your girls at the bar, them greeting you with obnoxious screams and cheer. “You rocked it!” “Now, was that so hard?” they speak over each other. You roll your eyes.

“Alright, alright. Hush before you get us kicked out.” You stare down at your drink meekly.

“Oh, please! They’re going to have to pay to keep us here after that show!” You laugh at your friends’ antics, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting your hat apprehensively.

“Excuse me, ladies.” The cowboy returns with a broad shouldered, bearded man. Your eyes immediately gravitate towards the man. There’s something almost comedic about how someone who just naturally seems to demand attention and authority looks to be attempting to take up as little space as possible. “What a performance. You sure got a talent on your hands.” The cowboy says to you, grabbing your attention. Your brows raise.

“Oh, wow. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Your eyes dance back and forth between the cowboy and the bearded man. An overwhelming desperation comes over you, wanting nothing more in that moment than for him to look at you. The cowboy nudges him in the ribs, nearly making him spill the beer in his glass.

“Ain’t a thing. You must’ve put my buddy under a spell or somethin’.” He chuckles, giving him a stern look, making you smile curiously.

“That so…” You playfully squint over at the man with a small smile. He finally finds your eyes. As soon as his gaze falls upon you, it's like he can’t remove himself from your eye contact.

“Good choice.” His deep southern accent rings through your ears. You could’ve sworn a horse just kicked a hole through your chest. It takes a beat or so for your mind to start working again.

“Thanks.” You say shyly as soon as the air returns to your lungs

“Well, us boys got us a booth over there.” The cowboy cuts in, pointing over to a round table containing two other guys. “You girls are more than welcome to come sit with us, if you’d like.” Before you could say anything, your friends answer for you.

“Sounds good to me, handsome.” Your friend flirts, already grabbing her drink glass and sliding out of her seat. The cowboy smiles down at her with his charming grin, offering his elbow. She threads her arm through his with a smile.

“Sy, you mind grabbing us another round?” The cowboy asks as he starts walking back to the table with your girls. Just as you were about to follow the three of them, your other friend holds up a hand to stop you in your tracks.

“You stay and help him.” You give her a suspicious glare, but all she does is wink and follow the other two to the booth. Now that you and Sy are all alone, you fall into an awkward silence. You turn to lean your elbows up against the bar, Sy is quick to follow, standing next to you. He leans his side against the wooden bar top.

“You from around here?” He asks, breaking the silence. He internally cringes at the cheesy line choice. You look down and start fiddling with your drink glass.

“Not precisely. I just moved here for a job opportunity, staying with my friends until I find my own place. You?” He nods.

“Yeah, born and raised. I just got back from Iraq.” Your brows shoot up as you whip your head toward him.

“Military?” You ask. He nods in response. “Army?” You guess, he nods again. “Well, sir, thank you for your service.” You offer a small smile. He chuckles.

“Thank you. Comin’ back to a free concert was a great surprise.” He says with a smile, holding eye contact with you. Jesus, have mercy. That smile is going to lay you out. You lick your lips, biting back a smile. You blink slowly at him.

“Who said anything about free?” You raise a brow and give him a teasing smile. He chuckles again, looking down bashful before looking back to your eyes.

“You’re right. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. You take card?” He throws back.

“CashApp.” You squint playfully. You two smile at each other before dropping the act, laughing down at your drinks. “So, Sy is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Captain Syverson, but Sy is just fine.” He says with a smile. You do everything in your power not to drop to the floor. You nod with a smile. Your eyes bounce between his eyes, down to his smiling lips, then back up to his eyes. You could’ve sworn something shifts in his gaze for a second.

“Well, Captain,” your chin tilts down, and you glance up at him. Your wide eyed innocence and use of his title makes his eyes squint in the slightest. Do you even know how you just filled his veins with fire? “How long you been in?”

“Joined in ‘05. Didn’t have much goin’ for me at 22, so Army it was. Been in for ‘bout 13 years. Was gonna be promoted to a Major about two years ago, but I like where I’m at now.” He shrugs. You tilt your head curiously.

“You turned down a promotion that would’ve gotten you out of gunfire?” You furrow your brows. He chuckles and nods, averting his gaze to his near empty beer.

“Well, when you say it like that, it makes me feel crazy.”

“You an adrenaline junky or something?” You say with an airy laugh. He shrugs with a smile.

“I don’t know about that. Havin’ bullets flyin’ at your head seems a bit extreme for just an ‘adrenaline junky’. I’d say it’s more so about my men. Gettin’ up to Major seemed a little too impersonal when you’re playin’ with mens’ lives, you know?” You nod.

“So you’re a big softy then.” You smile. He chuckles, fixing his jaw and shaking his head.

“Don’t say that too loud.” Your smile grows.

“Why not? I think it’s cute.” His gaze finds yours with that smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys would find it cute, too.” He shakes his head, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I’d never live it down.” You let out a small laugh through your nose. “Enough ‘bout me. How long you been singin’? Are you enjoying your new town?” You take in a deep breath at just the mention of the last stressful few months.

“It’s been quite a ride, let me tell you.” You sigh out. You and Sy spend the next half hour getting to know each other, exchanging smiles, laughs, and the occasional longing glance. You both quickly find that talking to one another is like catching up with an old friend, awkward at first but so easy once you get going. The cowboy from earlier comes back up to bring a hand down on Sy’s back with a loud smack, grabbing both yours and Sy’s attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the boys are getting antsy. We’re gonna head out to the next bar. See you outside?” You raise your brows slightly, a bit dejected knowing your time with the handsome army man was coming to an end. Sy’s shoulders drop ever so slightly. He lets out a small sigh and nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” He responds, depleted. The cowboy turns his attention to you.

“It was nice meetin’ you, little lady. Thank you for the great song. Your friends said somethin’ ‘bout goin’ to the ladies room. Should be meetin’ you back over here once they’re out. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He nods to you with a kind smile in a very cowboy-like fashion, tilting his hat. You mimic his gesture, tilting your hat right back as a farewell. He walks off, heading to the two others outside.

You and Sy stay with each other in a short comfortable silence, both trying to find your next words.

“It was nice meeting you.” “Can I get your number?” You both say at the same time. You share a smile. “Yes.” “Likewise.” You both laugh.

“OK, stop that.”

“I wasn’t tryin’.” He shoots back, faking offense. You giggle. God, what he would do to hear that again.

“You got a phone or a pen?” You ask with a bright smile. He chuckles and nods, reaching for the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans.

“Yeah, here.” He unlocks his phone and pulls up a draft for a new contact, handing it to you. You take it with a smile, filling out the empty slots before handing it back to him. He looks down at the contact and furrows his brows with a grin. He cocks his head to the side.

“Aka Karaoke Cowgirl?” He questions, referencing the ending addition to your name. You nod with a smile.

“So you don’t forget which girl I am.” He gives you another one of his earth shattering smiles and shakes his head.

“I won’t. Matter of fact,” He clicks a couple things before holding the phone up in front of his face, leaning back a little. You hear the phone’s imitation camera shutter go off. “There.” He looks down at the new contact photo. You furrow your brows and scrunch up your nose.

“What? Wait! I wasn’t ready!” You object. He shakes his head, smiling down at the picture.

“No, no. It’s perfect. A little blurry but I got that pretty little smile of yours.” Your jaw goes slack and you give him a look of disbelief. You glare at him but can’t keep a warm cheek smile from growing.

“You better call me.” You squint harder. He smiles at your cute, ‘intimidating’ expression.

“I will. Don’t want you huntin’ me down.” He replies playfully with a raised brow. He’s just so- My goddess, does he know how handsome he is? You could stare in each other's eyes forever but you’re abruptly interrupted by a sharp whistle. You both turn to find the cowboy waving down Sy towards the exit. Sy gives the man a tight jawed look before his eyes soften to you. “Unfortunately, I gotta go.” You nod with a small, sad smile.

“Okay,” Just in time, you see your friends behind Sy, rounding the corner from the bathrooms and walking toward you. The feeling of a calloused, rough hand gliding around yours pulls your attention back to the man in front of you. You look up at him as he brings your hand up to his lips, giving your knuckles a soft kiss. Your lips part and your eyes widen ever so slightly, and he struggles to bite back a smirk.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, darlin’. I’ll talk to you later.” He gives you a charming grin, before bringing your hand down, giving it a squeeze before walking away. You stand there shell shocked, watching him leave. Your friends rush up to your squealing, but you can’t take your eyes off him. He turns back to get a final glance at you before exiting.

“Ahh!” “Oh My God!”

“Holy Fuck!” “Jesus Christ!”

“Ahhh!” “AHHHH!” Your friends talk over each other with screams, getting a smile out of you.

“Oh my goodness, will you two shut up!?” You yell back with an eye roll and smile.

“Oh my god. The way he kissed your hand?”

“Those eyes!”

“That smile!”

“Those muscles!”

“That was so hot! Ugh!” You let out a hearty laugh at your friends’ back and forth. You roll your eyes and look towards the door with a longing look.

“Yeah, he was pretty hot…”

My first Sy fic 🥺💕

Sy would DEFINITELY take that promotion to get out of harms way once you are in a long-term relationship/married and/or with children. 😘

[slickchickchocolatier]

also omg rei im gonna need a drabble on heethan and readen at the gym!!! or just working out aaahhh I can just imagine readen doing yoga at home and heethan going crazy OR OR heethan and readen at the gym together and have some little fun in the locker rooms loll OR readen watching heethan wprk out and ALSO going crazy

oh my gosh my heart 😣😣

“Let’s Get Physical.”

Warnings: heethan gets a bit demeaning (in a sexy way)…rough smut implied, rough smut implied through dialogue, a bit perv behavior (Heethan), a little bit of tension, guys hitting/remarking on your ass at the gym, possessive heethan (obviously) ….think that’s it.

………………….

You and Heeseung decide to go to the gym where you both run into Jake and h/n.

“wanna do a group work out?” Jake asks, earning an eager nod from h/n and a glance for approval as you looked up to Heeseung. He responds by slightly nodding as he looks away and grabs onto your hand. “Yeah sure.” His voice deep and calm, like always.

Donning all black, you admired how good his arms looked. The sleeveless muscle tee fully exposes his arms and a slight bit of his shoulders, they paired nicely with the long workout pants that remained straight and loose. Of course, he wouldn't be Heeseung if he didn't have on his trusty black cap with the elongated strands of black hair tapering the back of his neck. You watched as his defined muscles flex each time he lifted and performed each exercise. He was literally, perfection. Snapping back yo your senses, you shook off the image of your man and ask h/n what exercise she wanted to start off with.

“Let's do squats. I need to work on my booty.”

Chuckling, you agreed. You both lay out the yoga mats and started off with some light stretching and little did you know, you were collecting a book of admiring looks yourself; looks that ranged from lust, yearning, to enhanced obsession and sexual rage.

Jake takes notice on the gawking stare his friend shoots your way, yet you were completely unaware. Such a shame. Considering if you had taken notice of the dagger eyes pinned to your form, you may have saved yourself and decreased the rage. Really, he would have calmed down with a small kiss or some affection, but the continuous motion of your movements with each exercise, remaining blind to his heavy breathing and the build up in his groin from staring at you, all made your oncoming fate a brutal one.

Your black leggings were thin and painted your curves, you had no idea just how alluring you had appeared. He went back and forth, shooting death stares at the other gym goers as they take notice and enjoyed the view of what belonged to him, to dispelling a look of desiring affection whenever his eyes returned back to his darling, Heeseung became conflicted with violent rage and passionate emotion. Your white, subtle cropped tank displayed just a hint of cleavage and mid drift; your hair tied up in a messy ponytail, draping down the center of your back, good grief...was he going to make it?

"Hey...Heeseung....you good?"

"Hm?....oh....yeah...."

Watching as you bend at the knees, he hears your subtle laughter as you and H/n face one another and playfully joke around as you both remained focus in perfecting the squatting form.

"Straight back, and bend at the knees." you softly tell h/n, who had struggled after the second set and took on a sloppy form once the fatigue set in.

"Oh my gosh...lets move on to something else now, my legs are burning." she releases out with heavy breaths, wiping the slight bit of sweat from her hairline. You nod once more and asked her which exercise she wanted to move onto.

"Lets do some more stretching. I feel stiff."

Getting back down on the yoga mats, you both conducted a myriad of stretching positions, some of which suggestively displayed your ability in being outrageously flexible.

"What the-" Heeseung pants out as he takes in the sight of your leg, fully extended with foot hovering above your head as you bend towards the opposite side. He never knew you could do that...fact.....he never knew just how 'bendable' you really could get.

"Otherside, h/n." you softly state as you reach up and conducted the same stretch towards the opposite end.

"Oh my fucking....."

His breath caught in an abrupt pause as he nearly drops the weight in hand. Fortunately, his trusting partner was there to catch hold of the barbell as he eases it out of Heeseung's grip and places it back to the rack. "Whoa! Be careful man, you almost dropped this on your foot." Jake turns around and pats his friend on the back shoulder. "I know man...I know...just try to focus on the exercise."

Heeseung breaks his visual contact for a second and looks over to Jake, before overhearing a couple of males from the side, both remarking your image.

.........

"Wow dude check that out...sexy."

"Nice ass..."

With his eyes losing softness, Heeseung shifts his head over shoulder before walking over to you. Remaining on the floor, you performed the next stretch in the planking position, watching as his shoes suddenly appear before your face. "Oh, hi babe. Did you want to stretch with us?" you look up and smile, taking notice of his intimidating stance of standing straight, hovering above your head with his arms crossed, glaring beneath heavy lids as he shakes his head softly while staring into your eyes.

"No baby....just making sure you're good. Keep doing your stretches." his voice was the opposite of his physical appeal as he gently calms and reassures you that he merely was standing by for our safety. Smirking, he gives you a soft chuckle with his eyes faintly softening, before stabbing back up to the two males, causing them to retract their stares and comments, migrating elsewhere.

Two minutes in, the timer goes off and you release your position to rest. Propping yourself on your hands and knees, you slowly come to a high kneeling position, when his hand suddenly is presented. You look up and see the tranquil expression on his face as he gives a slight nod, indicating for you to take hold, allowing him to help pull you up. You gently grab on, and feel the force of rush as he pulls your body effortlessly, nearly levitating your entire body as your weight is suddenly lifted. Gasping, your gasping moan triggered him to, once again, become riled with sexual rage as he takes in the tone of your voice that beautifully matches your visual appeal.

He pulls you up and in to his chest, cradling you within his lean, muscular arms. Embracing you, he lets your back, his palm smoothing the pony tail that trails downward to your delicate rear end. Smoothing the surface of his palm further, he gives a popping smack against your cheek upon feeling the roundness of your derrière.

“Ah! Heeseung!”

you yelped out in shock upon feeling the sting on your rear end, he had never done that before, in fact, he had always made an effort to explain that he never would treat you as cattle. Slapping a woman’s rear end was only something he could see happening to one that deserved to be treated like livestock, which would never be you. At least, that is what he’s always told you.

“why?…” you looked at him rather confused while rubbing out the sting as tactfully as you could. He didn’t respond, only looked down at you under heavy lids and a rather hungry yet emotionless expression in his face. It was as if head tired and starving at the same time.

Forcefully removing your hand away, he reaches over and, while detaining your wrist behind the lower part of your back, he emits another popping smack, and another….and another.

“what are you doing?!” You harshly whispered out, doing your best to avoid making a scene, yet desperately tried to break free from his pinned grasp. “Why are you doing this? I thought you said only girls who deserved to be hit there were ones that should be treated like a cow.”

with a sly smirk, he scoffs a close-mouthed chuckle. “That right? Did I say that?” his tone was flaring the obvious attempt at playing dubious to your statement. You rolled your eyes before shooting your stare right back, “Yes and you know it. You’ve said it so many times.”

“hmm…maybe I forgot because you wearing this outfit is kinda of affecting my long term memory.”

“you said it just last week when we watched that movie with that scene of the guy smacking that girls butt, remember?”

“You’re also affecting my short term memory.”

“Heeseung…..”

“and you wanna know what else, pretty baby?”

You gulped upon seeing the darkness of a shadow glare take over, with a sadistic and psychotic smile accompanying it.

“I need to get my workout in, so let’s go home and do just that….work it out.”

your breathing hitches. “But….I’m fine to do my workout here…Ethan.”

Upon speaking back, Ethan smacks the same spot that was already tender from the previous pops his Heeseung side admitted. Only this time, he grabs hold and doesn’t let go upon forcing the jiggle. “Talking back? That’s an extra lap you owe me.”

……………………..

“oh hey, y/n!”

turning around, you watch as h/n runs to catch up as you weee about to enter the classroom.

“what happened yesterday at the gym? When I got back from putting the mats away, Jake said you left with Ethan.”

You winced upon hearing Ethan’s name, the flashback of what occurred in his bedroom yesterday all came to mind…

……

“fuck! ass up pretty.”

“you’re so flexible, why didn’t tell me this sooner?”

“bend this way.”

“raise it up higher.”

“how far can your leg go? Let’s check.”

“Oh fuuuuuck….I can see my dick poking through at this angle. Fuck why does that turn me on so much?”

“Fucking breed with me, you beautiful and nasty little thing.”

“you just had to look sexy at the gym, didn’t you? Fucking nod your head! Don’t deny it.”

“had to get all those guys looking at what’s mine, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.”

“who likes to milk daddy’s dick? Yyyyyyyyyy/nnnnnnn.”

“bend your leg further, I wanna watch it go in.”

“screaming are we? Good…keep it up, I’m loving it.”

“too good? Too much? No more? Heh….yeah right, get over here.”

“yeah, bet you can feel it deeper like this, don’t you?”

“Ready for round 6? That’s my favorite number, you know.”

…….

You shake off the thoughts and recovered quickly to maintain composure and to prevent unnecessary questions. “Uh yeah…sorry, I had a stomach ache and had to leave. I promise we’ll go again and do a thorough workout.”

taking your seat, you hissed the moment your rear touched the seat, stirring a confused and concerned look from h/n. “Are you sore from those squats? Me too, but it seems you’re more tender. You did a lot more than me, so I guess that’s why.”

“yeah….that must be why…” you begrudgingly responded, mentally recalling yesterdays events after Ethan took you away from the gym.

before the professor began his lecture, your phone dings, indicating a message. It was from Heeseung…

confused, you barely finished reading when the professor announced your name aloud. “Oh, y/n. I got your letter, you are excused for the day to attend your physical.”

your lips part in confusion and shock when your phone dings once more.

Looking out the window, you take note of Heeseung’s car parked across the lawn, windshield facing your seat dead on.

“Did….did he?”

*ding*

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[therand0mwriter]

IDOL-Chapitre deux

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Male!Idol!reader

When a young American idol and his band tours in France, every one in Adrien's class wants to go. Unfortunately for them, tickets sold out as soon as they were for sale. Fortunately for Adrien, his father was able to get him tickets, but with a cost. Even though theres an underlying reason on why he's going, Adrien decides to take his best friend Nino, and his other two close classmates/friends, Alya and Marinette.

When they all got to the concert and the idol started singing, it mesmerized Adrien, pulling him to the front of the stage. Seeing the idol perform made Adrien feel things he never felt before, and it didn't help when the idol lent down and kissed Adrien's hand. Now that caused quite the ruckus.

"𝐔𝐡, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭?"

[The song "Bad Habit" by Steve Lacy does not belong to me]

[Unedited]

*Time Skip, 6 Months*

*Adrien's POV*

"Are you guys excited or what?!" Alya shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Marinette enthusiastically nodded her head, "Of course! And I already have all of our outfits ready!" "Great! I can't wait see them!" Alya cheered. "Thats amazing, Marinette. It'll be cool to see what you came up with this time." I smiled at the blue eyed girl. Her cheeks turned dark and a nervous smile made its way onto her face, "Y-Yeah, h-hopefully they look good!" I laugh and smile, "It's you, I'm sure they will!"

Marinette had offer to make me and Nino outfits for Ensnare's concert, but we politely turned her down, not wanting to cause her too much trouble. Speaking of Ensnare, their concert was tonight, and it was the last one for the France tour. From the videos we've seen online, it'll be an unforgettable experience...

*Time Skip*

*Y/N's POV*

"We got two hours until showtime! Chop chop people!" I could hear Sheena practically screaming over the hoard of workers, clapping her hands, all the way to our dressing room. "Can she be any louder?" Kylian mumbled to himself. "You know she can," I chuckled. "Yeah, don't tempt her, especially tonight." Jiraiya added, rubbing his temples. Kylian mocked Jiraiya in a tiny squeaky voice, causing the ravenette to throw his water bottle at the brunette.

Kylian shot up to his feet, shoulders squared and ready for a fight. Jiraiya didn't hesitate to rise to his feet either. "Hey!" I yelled, deepening my voice and making both males immediately paused in their steps and look towards me. "Knock it off." I gritted through my teeth, no room for argument in my tone. Both males glared at each other before sitting back into their previous spots.

"Ooo, papa Y/N does not play!" Kairo laughed from his seat in the make-up chair. I rolled my eyes and chuckled, "That's enough out of you," He grinned mischievously but quieted down nonetheless.

*Time Skip, 1 hour*

*Adrien's POV*

Me and Nino were currently in Marinette's living room, waiting as she and Alya finished getting ready. Nino was dressed in a white t-shirt with a light brown button up shirt as a jacket, black jeans with a chain, black sneakers, a light brown flat cap, and his usual colorful bracelets he always wore.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Nino's outfit.]

I was dressed in a black t-shirt, a light blue button up as a jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Adrien's outfit.]

"Would you boys like anything to drink?" Marinette's mom, Sabine Cheng, asked us from their kitchen. "No thank you, we're alright Mrs. Cheng." I answered with a smile, Nino nodding along. Just then, Marinette and Alya came downstairs. "Woah..." Nino breathlessly said as he saw his girlfriend. Alya was wearing a long sleeve, orange and brown dress that stopped at her mid thigh. The dress was almost a geometrical design, definitely making it an eye catcher. She wore brown boots and had a brown purse to match.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Alya's outfit.]

"I decided to go out of my comfort zone this time," Alya smiled, radiating confidence. "You look amazing, babe!" Nino cheered, going and hugging his girlfriend. He kissed her cheek as I added, "Yeah! You look great!" "It's all thanks to Marinette," Alya stepped to the side to show said girl (who was hiding). Marinette was wearing a soft pink sundress that stopped at her mid thigh, a red and white flower design along the dress. She had a white cardigan on, white flats and a matching white clutch purse.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Marinette's dress.]

"You look amazing, Marinette! Very cute!" I complimented her, making her face turn red. Marinette started to uncontrollably stutter, but Alya came to her side, "What she is trying to say, is thank you." I look back to Marinette and she rigidly nodded her head in agreement. "Alright! Let's go!" Alya cheered, grabbing Marinette's hand and pulling her along, me and Nino following behind.

*Time Skip, 30 Minutes*

*Y/N's POV*

We just finished our VIP meet and greet and got back to our dressing room, touching up our look and/or changing our outfits. Not long after, our manager came in, "Is everyone ready?" Sheena asked, looking around the room. "Yeah, Y/N just needs to get changed." Jiraiya said, motioning to me in the make-up chair. "Alright, everyone else, go get into your positions." Sheena said before quickly leaving the room, most likely to go check on multiple other things.

When the make-up artist was done, I stood up and called over my band mates, "Line up." Ever since our very first performance together, it's been tradition for them to line up and have me look them over. The twins were first, then Kylian and finally Jiraiya. The twins were wearing a white t-shirt, a tan jacket, dark green cargo pants, white sneakers and jewelry.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Kairo's and Loyal's outfit.]

I straightened out one of Loyal's pant legs, as one cuff was risen higher than the other, and gave him a nod of approval. I move onto Kairo and straightened out his shirt and jacket, giving him the nod of approval as well. I turn to Kylian to see him wearing a white sweater with the sleeves pushed up, gray skinny jeans with material missing at his knees, white sneakers and his jewelry.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Kylian's outfit.]

I straightened out his messy hair, getting a complaint from him. Once I was done I nodded in approval. When I finally turn to Jiraiya, he was waiting with a smile. I could tell he was nervous, so I smiled at him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, "Relax, you'll be great, you always are!" His shoulder relaxed but his face held... disappointment? Before I could ask what's wrong, he changed the subject, "Thanks, how do I look by the way?" I pulled away and took a look at his outfit. He was wearing a clean, white button up shirt, light blue ripped jeans, white sneakers and his jewelry. "Handsome," I simply said, nodding in approval.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for Jiraiya's outfit.]

It looked like he blushed but quickly turned his head to our other band mates, "Okay, let's go. Get dressed and meet us out there." He started pushing the other three members out the door. "See you guys there!" I called out before they closed the door.

*3rd Person POV*

There was an awkward silence among the 4 band members that just left their leader. Kairo opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Jiraiya was trying hard to ignore their concerned glances, focusing on heading to their instruments. That is, until Kylian spoke up, "Y'know, he's not going to treat you any different unless you tell him how you feel."

Jiraiya made a sound of annoyance, "You don't think I know that?" Kylian rolled his eyes, "Oh my god, just tell him!" "I don't want to ruin what we have." Jiraiya said. "Well, your looks of longing and sadness towards our dear leader is making me uncomfortable. So tell him and stop with your moping!" Kylian said, exasperated. Jiraiya halted in his steps and got into Kylians face, "If I tell him how I feel and he rejects me, it's going to be extremely uncomfortable for all of us. Not just you." He pulled away and sped off towards his instrument, leaving the three boys behind.

Kylian stared off in the direction Jiraiya went with a glare, Kairo coughing uncomfortably and Loyal shifting from foot to foot. "That was awkward for us," Kairo mumble. Kylian 'tsk-ed', "Shut up."

*Time Skip*

*Adrien's POV*

After we made our way through a metal detector and the security guard scanned our tickets, we were handed some glow sticks. We cracked them as we made our way into the venue and placed them on our necks and wrists. We scanned the place and gawked, amazed at all the lights and decorations. There was a stand selling the bands merchandise and a couple stands that were selling snacks and drinks.

"Okay! Let's grab the merch now! That way we can leave immediately afterwards! The line isn't that long too!" Alya shouted over the noise of the crowd and background music. "Smart! That way we won't be late for our dinner!" I also shouted. All three of them looked at me, confused. "Uh, what do you mean: 'dinner', dude?!" Nino asked. "Um, our dinner with Ensnare? Did I not tell you we have Deluxe VIP tickets?!" I said, starting to get confused.

Everyone had blank looks on their faces before they screamed/shouted in excitement. "Why didn't you tell us we had Deluxe VIP tickets?!" Alya screamed, shaking my shoulders. "S-Sorry I-I f-forgot!" I tried to say while being violently shook. "This is so exciting! We get to meet them!" Marinette cheered, jumping in her spot, Alya joining her not long after.

"Oh, wait! Let's hurry up and get in line for the merch!" Alya paused, taking Marinette's hand and speed walking towards the line. Me and Nino looked at each other and chuckled, following after the girls.

*Time Skip*

*3rd Person POV*

The concert was about to begin, the four teens waiting with anticipation. Adrien looked down to his hands to see the shirt and magazine he bought at the merchandise stand. The shirt was a long sleeve crew neck and it was white, Ensnare's most recent album cover on the front. The magazine also had the bands album cover on the front, but when you opened it, it was pretty much a picture book. It was full of photos of the members, together and separate. Occasionally, there would be paragraphs explaining what was happening in the picture or why they were doing a that specific photo shoot.

Adrien was embarrassed to admit it, but the main reason he got the magazine was because of Y/N. The vendor for the stand had the magazine on display, and he had it opened to a picture of just Y/N. Y/N was dressed in an all red suit, his shirt slightly opened to reveal his chest a bit. The background for the picture was all red too, making Y/N's head and chest stand out the most, making him eye catching. Adrien convinced himself that he just wanted Y/N to sign the picture and that's why he got it, but deep down, he knew he just really liked that picture and wanted it in general.

Finally, a drum roll started. "It's time! The moment you've all been waiting for!" Once the announcer started, the entire venue erupted into a cheer. "Please welcome, Ensnare's favorite set of twins! Kairo and Loyal!" Said twins ran out onto stage, Kairo going to the edge and high fiving a few fans while Loyal sheepishly waved.

Once they made it to their assigned instruments, the announcer started up again, "Next, we have the bad boy, the heart breaker, Kylian!" The brunette ran out onto the stage, winking and blowing kisses to the female fans. "Second to last, we have the cool, collected, Jiraiya!" He calmly stepped out onto the stage, also waving and making his way to his instrument.

The drum roll sped up, "And finally... the leader and amazing vocalist... Y/N!" Time seemed to slow down for Adrien, the sounds of the crowd drowned out, only the sounds of his breathing, rapid heartbeat and the slow steps of Y/N walking onto the stage were present. But when Adrien saw Y/N... everything went silent, it was like he was deaf. The idol on stage was glowing, his silky hair shined, his eyes were vibrant, his skin clear and smooth... and not to mention his outfit. The male was wearing all black, except for his thin white belt. His dress shirt had the first few buttons undone and was tucked into his skinny jeans, dress shoes and silver jewelry completing his look.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. Something like this for your (the reader) outfit.]

When Y/N made it to the microphone and greeted the crowd, it snapped Adrien out of his trance, "Bonsoir, everyone!" The blonde male realized how heavy his breathing was and how fast his heart rate was, his face felt hot and his palms sweaty. He wiped his forehead and started to control his breathing, 'What's wrong with me? Why am I acting like this?' Adrien thought, genuinely confused.

If Adrien wasn't so focused on his breathing, he would have connected that his 'problem' was right on the stage in front of him.

"Thank you all so much for coming to see us tonight! We really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy the show tonight, and since it's our last one, we have something special planned for you all!" Y/N explained, a large smile on his face. The crowd screamed once again. "Now, let's get on with it!"

*Time Skip, 1 hour*

The band had just finished playing their final song off of their most recent album. The crowd was screaming, confetti was everywhere, balloons that the stage hand had threw out were bouncing around, it was a moment none of the teens would forget.

Ensnare was taking a break, wiping sweat of their foreheads and chugging water bottles. About half way through the concert the twins had taken off their jackets and Kylian had thrown his sweater into the crowd, a lucky female fan catching it. The male only had an undershirt on now, his bicep tattoo of his guitar with music notes showing.

Y/N took a deep breath before grabbing the microphone again, "Y'all enjoying the concert?!" He got excited screams in return. He laughed into the microphone, causing Adrien's heart rate to spike up once more. "Well, we have something special planned for you all. Since this is the last concert of our first out of country tour, we are going to play a couple of our most favored covers!" The venue erupted.

Y/N laughed once again, and turned to Jiraiya, nodding to start. Said male then started to strum an American pop tune. The band played two covers of songs, but before they played their third, Y/N spoke into the microphone again, "This is our last song for the night! We all really appreciate you coming out here to support us tonight... Y'know, when we started this band, we never thought we would be popular enough to tour across the world. We wouldn't be here without you! WE LOVE YOU, FRANCE!" The crowd went wild, a quarter of the fans even started crying.

Y/N looked to his bandmates and they nodded. He turned back to the microphone and took a deep breath.

"I wish I knew you wanted me." The band started playing and Y/N continued to sing. "I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. What you, ooh, uh, what you do? Made a move, coulda made a move. If I knew I'd be with you. Is it too late to pursue?"

Adrien didn't know what came over him. He mindlessly started to move through the crowd.

"I bite my tongue, it's a bad habit. Kinda mad that I didn't take a stab at it. Thought you were too good for me, my dear. Never gave me time of day, my dear. It's okay, things happen for, Reasons that I think are sure, yeah." Y/N continued to sing and dance. Whenever there was an opening, Adrien moved in, still moving forward.

"I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew (oh), I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew (yeah), I wish I knew you wanted me (oh). I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me." Adrien made it, he was at the front of the stage, so close to the siren known as Y/N.

Y/N saw something catch his eye, a mop of golden blond hair. He saw it belonged to a boy around his age, green starstruck eyes, tan skin with rosy cheeks... he was cute. The singer made his way to the boy, still singing. "Say to me (please just say to me), If this could wind up. I wish you wouldn't play with me. I wanna know (oh no),"

Y/N got right in front of Adrien and held out his hand. Adriens eyes were still wide with wonder as he placed his hand in Y/N's, still not fully processing the situation. No one knew what was going to happen next, except for Y/N. He lent down and kissed the back of Adriens hand, "Uh, can I bite your tongue like my bad habit?" Adriens face, ears and neck flushed red as Y/N winked and pulled away. The fans that were around them screamed in excitement, not ready for what just happened.

"Would you mind if I tried to make a pass at it? Were you not too good for me, my dear?Funny you come back to me, my dear. It's okay, things happen for, Reasons that I can't ignore, yeah. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew (wish I knew), I wish I knew you wanted me (oh)." Y/N continued to dance and sing, oblivious to the angry/pained look Jiraiya was giving him. The other three band members were just surprised about what happened, eyes wide.

Adrien snapped out of his trance when he felt his phone buzzing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a couple missed calls from Nino and Alya and multiple texts asking where he was. Adrien quickly typed back that he was on his way and looked to the stage once more. He didn't want to leave, wanting to be as close to Y/N as possible, but he knew he needed to get back to his friends.

He turned to head back into the crowd, but finally left the stage after one more longing look towards Ensnare's singer. The song ended when the blond reunited with his friends. "Dude! Where did you go?!" Nino shouted over the noise of the crowd. "Uh, bathroom!" Adrien shouted back.

Ensnare waved goodbye to the crowd, Loyal tossing his drumsticks into the crowd and Kylian and Y/N high fiving a few fans. The band was finally off stage and Jiraiya immediately went to his changing room without a word. Y/N noted that he would have to talk to him about what's wrong later.

Sheena came up to the rest of them, "Amazing work once again, boys! Now, go take a shower and get changed, your dinner is in an hour." They all went off and did just that. Y/N was now wearing a white t-shirt, black jeans, white sneakers and a black jean jacket. Kylian was wearing a black sweatshirt, black sweatpants and white sneakers. The twins were wearing a white t-shirt, dark blue jeans, white sneakers and a dark green jacket. Jiraiya wore a white button up shirt with black birds as the design, black ripped skinny jeans, and white sneakers.

The five boys met up after showering and changing (and a touch up from the make-up artists). Y/N instantly went to Jiraiya's side and whispered, "Whats wrong?" Jiraiya brushed him off, "Nothing."

Loyal cheered, "Let's go get our grub on!" At the opportunity to escape, Jiraiya left Y/N and questioned Loyal, "What dishes are you looking forward to?" He smiled. Loyal got stars in his eyes before going on a rant about certain dishes and how to make them. Before becoming a drummer, Loyal's dream job was to be a chef.

Kylian muttered to Y/N, "At least we know if the band ever breaks up Loyal has a fall back." He ended with a chuckle, Y/N joining him.

They made it to the private dining room and opened the doors. None of the band members were ready to see the people waiting for them... more accurately a specific person. Y/N halted in his step and his breath caught in his throat. In front of him was the blonde that he kissed on the back of the hand. He still had those rosy cheeks.

Y/N lightly blushed in embarrassment, 'I never thought I would see him again! Otherwise, I wouldn't have kissed his hand!' But he cleared his throat, stepped forward, and held out his hand with a kind smile, "My name is Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you! What's your name?"

[priyashareindia9]

Mid-cap stocks are from companies with a market capitalization between $2 billion and $10 billion. These mid-market equity investments offer significant diversification benefits and exposure to companies with substantial growth potential. While some might consider these stocks volatile, they provide a balance between growth potential and risk management, making them an attractive investment choice. Here are several advantages of investing in mid-cap stocks:

[talonabraxas]

“The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.” ― Soren Kierkegaard

The Aztec Culture Used Lots of Hallucinogenic Substances

The Aztecs were a Mesoamerican culture that formed in mid-Mexico around the year 1300 AD. The Aztecs are considered the ancestors of modern-day Nahuas, Mexico’s largest recognized indigenous group. The Aztec culture was highly interwoven with their religion, which focused on the worship of multiple deities including Tlaloc, Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, Xochipilli, and several more. And they are especially well-known for their extensive usage of hallucinogenic substances such as Teotlnanáctl mushrooms.

The Aztecs believed that these deities were responsible for creating the universe and keeping it functioning. If the gods were not pleased, they may cease to keep the Sun burning or prevent the Earth from receiving resources. To placate the gods, they frequently engaged in blood sacrifices of both animals and their own people. A sacrifice would ultimately thank the Earth for her fruitfulness and encourage the gods to continually revive the Sun. Their religious life also revolved around calendars, a ritual calendar that was 260 days long, and a solar calendar that was 365 days long.

The use of entheogens is a common theme amongst Aztec artifacts recovered from Mesoamerica. Entheogens are psychoactive substances that induce alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition, or behavior in sacred contexts. Sculptures, statues, paintings, writings, and even fossilized remains of various entheogens (such as the Bufo toad) all point to the regular consumption of hallucinogenic substances within Aztec civilization. The Florentine Codex, a research study performed by Bernardino de Sahahun in the 16th century, actually identifies at least five specific entheogens used by the Aztecs.

Research suggests that outside of regular use by citizens during festivals and times of celebration, these hallucinogenic plants were predominantly used by officials, including priests and nobility. They would also be shared with visiting dignitaries as a form of welcome. Priests traditionally used the plants to engage in religious activities including divination, prophecy, healing, and dream interpretation.

Teotlnanácatl: In Search of the Aztec 'God's Flesh' Psychedelic Mushroom

[141wh0re]

The Prince

Tw: 18+ MDNI | un-aliving | weapons| violence| blood| angst if you squint.

Word Count: 2059

A/N: After weeks of trying not to think about this and get through my last semester, we are finally here! I can't wait to rot your brains with this AU. I can't wait to see what you all think of this - Skelly xx

12th Century A.D. - in the desert of Al Mazafin, along the Red Sea.

Prince Kyle Garrick kneels before the sacred fountain, performing his mid-day prayer.

A singular speck of dried blood stains the low ledge of the fountain's pool, taunting the prince for his loss. The same fountain his father - King Jeremiah Garrick- was murdered near. He was found lying face-down in the small pool of the sacred waters, his own blood tainting it. Murdered when he least expected it; praying for his family and the safety of their kingdom's people. Wishing them to be blessed and protected.

The inky, black and red, aged speck stares back at him as he glares at it, allowing it to invade his thoughts, tainting his own mind with the darker thoughts. Wanting revenge for his beloved father. To damn the person who bestowed such responsibility upon him so soon, by taking his father's life.

Kyle wasn't ready to be king. All he knew was war. As his father's second right hand, it was Kyle's duty to bring honor to their family name, fighting in his father's army, invading kingdoms who threaten to bring harm to their beloved city of Al-Mazafin. He was curated into a man used to bloodshed and battle.

He'd learned much of what his father had passed onto him, yet he felt as if he wasn't prepared enough. He knew the day would come. He knew he'd be crowned the successor of his father's throne. But it wasn't supposed to be this soon.

He glared at the fountain, losing focus on his mid-day prayer, due to the incessant pestering from that singular speck of his father's blood. A single drop of blood that caused such a ripple within his mind, disturbing the calmness of his thoughts. It opened him up to the grief and anger that took residence in his heart and in his bones, taunting his darker parts, begging for them to be unleashed. To feel the weight of a dagger sliding into another man's chest, or the sharp pinch of the bow string snapping between his fingertips as he propels an arrow into his enemy, atop the back of his horse.

But what he couldn't fathom was the silken dagger pouch that seemed to hum and buzz with endless energy. Or the faint glow of purple it emitted when sand entered the pouch. And the strange haze it seemed to pull his enemies into when he threw the sand in their eyes, blinding them momentarily in a fit of desperation, to bid him time to maneuver a counter-attack.

It was left for him, by his father, attached with a singular note scrawled in his father's writing. One sentence. "Use it well, and you shall always know the truth."

His mother's voice sounds from behind him, disrupting the chaos of his mind.

"Kyle? Alright, love?" she asked tenderly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He rises from his position of kneeling, his warm, chocolate eyes flickering towards her warm gaze.

"Fine, mother." he replied in a strained voice, fighting the guilt threatening to consume him for lying to his mother.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"He would be proud of you... of how you're handling everything since his passing." Queen Cyra offered in a gentle tone.

Her kinky, black curls rested along her back, stopping just below her slender shoulder blades. The same curls her son inherited - though Kyle never allowed his to grow out. White Persian silk flowed from her slender frame, delicate patterns with purple and gold embroidery adorned the capped sleeves of her gown, and a large, golden sun pendant lay flush to her smooth, brown skin.

Queen Cyra was the epitome of elegance and poised sophistication, ever the diplomatic woman, she commanded respect in the same manner, her late husband, King Jeremiah did.

"Yeah.. I'm sure." Kyle replied, not entirely believing his mother's words.

Cyra's eyes softened on her son, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Why don't you get out of the palace for a bit? Wander the streets of the city and enjoy some fresh air," his mother suggested, sensing the weariness of her son's mind.

"It'll do you some good to wander a bit. Ease your mind." she added in her caring tone.

Kyle pondered her idea thoughtfully. It wasn't a bad idea at all. He'd been cooped up within the palace for the last few days, ever since returning from a particularly horrendous journey to another kingdom, in search of a another noble to wed.

"Yeah. I think I will." Kyle finally agreed, flashing his mother a quick smile that hadn't quite reached his eyes.

She smiled in return before pressing a warm kiss on his smooth brown cheek.

"Take Gaz with you." his mother advised, referring to his 2 year old guard dog, a South African Boerboel - a gift from an ally in the southern region of the continent.

He whistled at the large, sandy, short-haired mastiff who was standing dutifully at the pointed cinquefoil archway, keeping watch. Gaz snapped his attention from the archway and padded towards Kyle. "You heard the queen." Kyle spoke to the dog with a humorous lilt in his tone and a sly smirk adorning his full lips.

"I'll see you at dinner, mother." Kyle said as he pecked his mother's soft cheek, earning a warm smile.

Live music floated about the town square where the townspeople hustled and bustled around the streets and the bazaar, in a dance of selling and buying goods.

The delicious smells of freshly made foods wafted throughout the marketplace: Malfuf Mahshi, rice and noodles, Bamia, Koshari, and Molokhia.

Kyle adjusted his white keffiyeh, ensuring his face was protected from the sun, sand, and the townspeople, simply so he could observe and blend in as a commoner to avoid being disrupted. Including ditching his palace robes for a lightweight, beige tunic and salwar pants to combat the dry, desert heat.

Gaz strolled beside Kyle, keeping on high alert while protecting his human. Though his nose would briefly drift when passing carts of various cuts of meat, yet he followed the prince with unwavering focus.

Kyle leaned against the corner of a clay-plastered wall of an alleyway, studying his city's people, and watched as they milled about. Children of all ages darted throughout the bazaar, gawking over jewels, silks, and weaponry. The prince's heart swelled with pride upon seeing the people happy and healthy. Trade was booming, and there were very few people that seemed to be struggling to make a day's wage.

He lowered his keffiyeh from his jaw to allow himself the pleasure of divulging in freshly baked, Egyptian flat-bread - aish baladi. Gaz sat at the prince's feet, in the shade, keeping a keen eye on the various people passing by.

Kyle cast a glance at his loyal companion, a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He broke apart a piece of bread and held it discreetly in front of Gaz's snout, to which the pup happily accepted the offering.

A commotion broke out in the distance, pulling both Kyle and Gaz's attention away from the market, redirecting their attention on a quaint building where thin tendrils of white smoke curled out of the geometric lattice - a shisha cafe.

Kyle adjusted his keffiyeh once more, shielding his face, before casually strolling towards the commotion.

As he approached the red-clay, colored building, he was met with the sight of the cafe owner -an older, pudgy man with tanned skin and white, balding hair- forcibly removing a woman from his place of business.

The owner's large palm wrapped firmly around the woman's bicep before harshly shoving her into the dirt of the street where she landed with a thud on her side.

"Your kind isn't welcome here! And if I catch you in here thieving from my clients again, it's to the palace where you'll have your hand removed!" the owner shouted angrily as he chucked her bag at her feet.

A woman thieving in the city? Curious.

Kyle waited until the owner ducked back inside his cafe before nearing the scorned young woman.

She begrudgingly pushed herself up to rest on her hip as she snagged her bag from the dirt and dusted it off.

Kyle extended his hand towards the supposed thief, wanting to help her to her feet.

From behind her jeweled veil, the woman glared up at him with fierce, green eyes, reluctantly taking Kyle's hand.

"Thanks," she grumbled in a hint of annoyance, though he could feel it wasn't directed at him.

"A thief, huh?" Kyle inquired with a cocked brow. He watched as she dusted her salwars, trying to rid them of the sand from the street.

"No. Not entirely." the woman replied in a melodic voice.

Kyle took a moment to take in her appearance. Black, thick and wavy tendrils cascaded down her back, stopping at the middle of her back. An hour glass figure with a soft tummy on display in her off-the-shoulder bandeau, and ample hips adorned her frame, standing a head shorter than the prince.

He tried to get a better glimpse of her features under the red, organza material of her veil, supple lips, and a slender nose are all he could make out. But he had to admit he was enthralled by her appearance.

What was a beauty like her doing thieving? Don't you know how dangerous that is, dove?

"So what was that all about then?" Kyle asked with piqued interest, observing the attractive woman before him.

"Nothing to concern yourself with." she quipped with a sharp finality in her tone. "I must be off to work, seeing as my other plan didn't work." she muttered lowly, letting out an exasperated sigh as she turned on the heel of her worn moccasins.

Kyle couldn't help but admire her no-bullshit personality. This was one of the thrills he received when roaming the town in disguise. He was treated as another dweller, and not some righteous soon-to-be king.

"Ah, so getting kicked out of the cafe wasn't the intended plan?" Kyle remarked with a humorous lilt in his deep, velvety timbre.

The woman stopped in her tracks with tensed shoulders, her fists clenched at her sides in irritation.

Ohh. We're a bit spirited, aren't we, dove?

She whipped her head around to face the disguised prince, "Why're you so nosy? What do you want, anyway?" Her eyes drifted away from him when she caught sight of a well-dressed, middle-aged-man passing them by on the street, three gold bracelets donning each wrist.

"If you'll excuse me." She dismissed herself before gracefully weaving through the crowd, like a black widow about to trap a fly in her webs.

Kyle was left reeling from the interaction. The mistress had already left such an impression on him from such a quick interaction. But his curiosity didn't stop him from trailing her.

He set off after her, bobbing and weaving through the crowded marketplace until he caught sight of her red veil once more, disappearing down a lesser-crowded alleyway.

Kyle hid behind a crate at the end of the alleyway, peering around it to watch as the woman leaned herself against the wall and ran her hand over the man's chest in a seductive lure. The man is so focused on her eyes and her words, he doesn't even notice her collecting the expensive-looking gold bracelets from his wrists. As if in a trance, the man careens his head towards her neck, speaking in a hushed voice as she nabs his bracelets, one by one. She keeps up her allure by running her freehand in his hair, pressing her supple body closer to him.

"What on earth are you doing, dove?" Kyle mumbled to himself. He kept his eyes trained on the young woman, unable to tear his gaze away.

His eyes darted towards the purple glint of the jewels on her veil, nearly the same purple the dagger pouch made when in contact with sand.

But weren't they red before?

"Seems you have many secrets, little dove." Kyle quietly mused with a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip under the lightweight material of his keffiyeh. "Who are you?" he wondered quietly to himself.

Taglist: @pale-ghost-girl /@v1naco/ @starsofang

[eddie-van-munson]

Elvira's Movie Macabre (Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader)

***********

Summary: After hearing your crush talk about his infatuation with "The Mistress of the Dark", Chrissy decides to give you a makeover...

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, References to Jason's Rumors About Eddie, Implication That Eddie Might have ADHD/ A Learning Disorder, Reader Puts on Makeup, She/Her Pronouns, Cursing, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Self-Deprecation, One Sex Joke

A/N: Happy Halloween! This is cheesy as hell and I'm not sure if I like how it turned out, but I haven't posted anything in forever, so I thought I'd give it a go! Let me know what you think! I promise I'm working on requests!

***********

"Chrissy, are you sure about this?" 

Your eyes burnt as Chrissy dragged a black eyeliner pencil over your waterline. She stuck her tongue out in concentration, brushing away a tear that had gathered at the outer corner of your eye. The liner smeared a bit beneath her thumb, but she left the smudge where it was, deciding it added to the look. Your eyes fluttered open as she capped the pencil proudly. "I'm absolutely positive! You're going to knock his socks off!" 

You tried to hide your uncertainty, glancing over at the small television in your friend's room. 

Chrissy had taken it upon herself to tape that week's episode of  Elvira's Movie Macabre after overhearing Eddie call the series host "a total fuckin' smoke show" in a conversation at the Hellfire table. 

"It's fool-proof!" She'd explained to you as she fast forwarded through the weekly B-Movie, pausing on a clear shot of Elvira. "We know he likes Elvira, and we know he likes you. If we combine the two, the results will be completely irresistible!" 

The speech had been very convincing as your friend studied the TV host's makeup, but now, as she plucked a cherry red lipstick from her collection, you were starting to have your doubts. Not that you had much of a choice. You'd been pining over Eddie since Mrs. O'Donnell had assigned you to him as a tutor last fall, and it was getting to be pathetic. 

You'd been nervous at first. You didn't know anything about Eddie, apart from the nasty rumors that Jason Carver liked to spread in the cafeteria. From the things he'd said, you'd half expected Eddie to start performing ritualistic sacrifices mid study session. Instead, you were met with a goofy, friendly, curly-headed boy, who immediately told you that he was "Sorry, you got stuck with the freak." He certainly wasn't scary. In fact, you liked Eddie. 

You could see why his grades were suffering. He had trouble focusing, and you often had to tell him things several times before he was able to absorb them. It was as if his brain was too loud on the inside. That being said, Eddie's attempts were earnest. He worked so hard to do right by you, and you'd celebrate a C minus like it was a badge of honor if it made Eddie feel proud of himself. 

All week long you eagerly awaited the afternoons when Eddie would pick you up from cheer practice in his van. He always looked so happy to see you, honking the horn and calling your name just so he could see you go all blushy and giggly in front of your friends. In moments like that, when Eddie smiled at you like you hung the stars, you could almost let yourself believe he loved you back. 

You must have had hearts in your eyes when he'd invited you to come see his band play. He'd gone so blushy when he asked, scratching his neck awkwardly as he stuttered through his words. 

"You don't have to come. It's just a small gig, y'know? You've got to start somewhere. But I'd really like it if you came. I'd like to see you there... I think Steve and Robin said they'd come too, so, you won't be there on your own or anything. But you don't have to come if-" 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a great big hug. "Oh Eddie!! Of course I'll come!! Don't be silly!! I'd love to see you play!" 

You couldn't have known, but Eddie had wanted nothing more in that moment but to kiss you senseless. You looked so sweet there in his arms, clad in your little pink cardigan and lacy socks. Your lips were a glossy smile, your cheeks dusted rosy. Eddie couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged like that. 

You thought about his pretty brown eyes as you puckered your lips. Chrissy painted them carefully, finishing them off with a touch of gloss before she ran to retrieve a can of hairspray from her bathroom. 

"I don't have a teasing comb, so a regular comb will have to do!"

***********

You looked...Well, you looked like Elvira.

Chrissy had worked magic. Your eyelashes were dark and heavy with mascara, your eyes shrouded in sexy black smoke. Your hair was perfectly wild and mussed, like you'd just gotten off of a motorcycle. You stared at your reflection, red lips parted in shock. 

Chrissy grinned, "Well, what do you think?" 

It was perfect. You looked like one of the girls in the band posters Eddie had taped up in his room. If he didn't want you like this, then nothing would win him over. 

"Oh, Chrissy...it's beautiful!" 

'`You're beautiful, silly!' She giggled as you pulled her into a hug, looking you up and down. "We've just got to find you an outfit to match now, hm?" 

The thought hadn't crossed your mind. You looked in the mirror again, realizing how out of place your little skirt and blouse looked next to your hair and makeup. Your closet wasn't filled with anything better…mostly an array of pastels. That is except for one recent addition. 

Your brows raised, an idea tugging a smile to your lips. 

***********

Eddie searched for you from the wings, unable to find you in the bar's sparse crowd. Surely you'd come. You said you would come, right? 

He didn't let the band go on until Gareth reassured him that he had definitely seen you coming in. "She's here man. And shit, she dressed up real pretty for you, too. Just relax, ok? She'll eat it up." 

Despite the stroke of possessiveness that sat in his chest over the comment, Eddie concurred that he'd never played better. The whoops and hollers as the band played were almost exclusively from his friends, but it didn't matter. You were there. He might as well have been playing Madison Square Garden. 

"We're Corroded Coffin and you guys fuckin' rock!"

The moment he exited the stage and carefully rested Sweetheart in her stand, he was sprinting to the dressing room. His skin was drenched in sweat from the lights, but thankfully, his curls still looked relatively good. He checked his teeth as he toweled off and clumsily pulled on a shirt, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. 

He searched the crowd at the bar, but found no sign of your usual pink lace and frills. Finally, he wandered over to Robin and Steve, his dark brows furrowed with confusion. "Have you guys-" 

His words trailed off when he finally noticed you, standing right there next to Steve. Your hair was mussed and teased, heavy makeup lining your eyes and lips. You smiled at the sight of him, tucking some hair behind your ear. 

Only then did Eddie see what you were wearing. There, oversized on your frame, was his leather. He'd leant it to you a few nights back when he'd dropped you off at your house. It'd started raining, and you were still in your cheer uniform from practice. Eddie had found particular satisfaction in watching you curl up in it, giving his cheek a grateful peck before running inside. 

"Y/N?" 

Your smile faded a little, seeing the confusion in his eyes, but you shook it off, jogging over to hug him tight. "Eddie!" 

You grinned up at him, excitement in your eyes. "Oh, Eddie! It was amazing! You really-" 

"What are you wearing, sweetheart?" He frowned as he smoothed your hair a little, thumbing at your smudged eyeliner. 

Immediately, your face fell. You saw disbelief flash in Robin's expression from the corner of your eye. Your voice was so soft when you spoke again, "You don't like it?"

Eddie was at a loss for words, confused by every last detail of the situation he was in. He shrugged, scratching his neck awkwardly.

"I-...Well I..." 

He fucked up. Oh he fucked up. Your pretty eyes glossed with tears, betrayal in your expression. His stomach lurched as your arms dropped from his waist and you took a step away from him.

Eddie floundered. "Y/N-" 

You shook your head, chest flooding with embarrassment. A tear welled over. "No, I'm sorry. I just-...I really shouldn't have come."  

The crowd thickened as you backed away from him. 

"Y/N!" He shouted for you as you snaked through the crowd, following behind you. "Y/N that's not what I-" He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him, but you only thrust his jacket against his chest, embarrassment burning your ears. 

You turned from him again, and before he could even reach for you, you were gone. 

***********

"Eddie Munson, what the hell is wrong with you!?" Robin shouted as Eddie scrambled around the greenroom, trying to find the keys to his van. 

"I know. I know, Robs. I fucked up, ok?" Panic laced his tone as he tugged his curls angrily. 

"Yes! Yes you did! She showed up here tonight dressed like she'd just walked out of your own personal wet dream, and you totally fumbled!" Steve put a hand on Robin's shoulder, reeling her in. She only sighed, holding her temples. "Eddie, you don't question a woman on how she looks. Unless she is, perhaps, wearing actual clown shoes-" 

"I get it Robin!" He shouted, voice cracking as tears smarted his nose. He collapsed on the green room couch in defeat, burying his face in his hands. "I fucking get it, ok? I'm an asshole. I'm the biggest moron alive." 

Steve sighed, wandering over to sit beside him on the couch. "Dude, you're not a moron." 

Eddie didn't respond, only stared at the ground. His eyes were red with tears. 

Steve crooned to meet his gaze. "And you're not an asshole either, huh? You didn't mean to hurt her feelings. Did you really think she looked bad?" 

"No." He choked, wrapping his torso iin his arms. "She looked fucking gorgeous, man. I was just surprised." 

Steve smiled encouragingly, giving Eddie's shoulder a shove. "Then find your damn keys and go tell her that, ok? Y/N's an angel. She'll understand." 

Eddie sniffled and rubbed his face with a nod, standing from the couch. Steve jumped up after him, "Eddie, wait..." 

He turned to look at Steve as he caught up with him, plucking the keys from where he'd spotted them in the back pocket of Eddie's pants. "Go get 'er, Tiger." 

***********

You were glad your parents had gone out to dinner that night. If your mom had seen your outfit, she would have had a heart attack. If your dad had seen you crying, Eddie would have been a dead man. 

You cried until your makeup was gone. And then you washed the black smears from your face and cried some more.

It'd been a stupid idea, really...trying to be like the girls he liked. You'd never be like those girls, even if you looked the part. Eddie knew that. He was probably mortified at the sight of you...all dressed up in a silly costume at his important gig. You shouldn't have even tried. 

You dozed off on the couch, wishing you'd never given him his leather back. You wanted nothing more than to put on his big jacket and fall asleep wrapped in the smell of him. Well, there was one thing you wanted more. You'd rather have him holding you. 

You were half asleep on the living room couch when the front door opened. You ignored the sound, curling in tighter on yourself and trying to go back to sleep. You weren't in the mood to answer your parent's questions right now. You just wanted to sulk. Heavy footsteps made their way into the living room, and you couldn't help but sigh as the figure knelt beside the couch. A warm hand rubbed your shoulders, sweetly. 

"Sweetheart?" 

The voice was soft and hoarse. You rolled over, brows furrowed with confusion. "Eddie?" 

He gave you a sad smile as you rubbed your eyes, holding up the spare key he'd found under the mat. "I did knock."

You sniffled, sitting up on an elbow, but Eddie relaxed your shoulders sweetly, guiding you to lay back down. " 's alright." He hummed, barely audibly. "Stay comfy."

"What're you doing here?" Your voice was croaky, but defensive. A hollow ache panged in his chest at your distrust. 

"Well…" He sighed, adjusting his position so he could sit more comfortably on the floor beside the couch. "You ran off before I could tell you how pretty you look tonight." 

His voice was earnest and calm, but you shook your head angrily and crossed your arms over your chest, tears burning your eyes. "I looked stupid."

Eddie's dark brows furrowed, "Hey, that's not true. Why would you say that?" 

You felt a hot trail roll down your cheek, "I embarrassed you." 

"Horsehit." Eddie scoffed, "You really think I was embarrassed by you?"

You nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"What's so embarrassing about having the hottest, most badass looking chick in all of Hawkins show up to my gig, huh?" 

You went bright pink, and Eddie couldn't help but smile a little. He pulled you closer to hold you in a hug, admiring you as he stroked your hair.

"It was absolutely killer. And if you want to change up your look, then hell, I'm with you all the way." You shied at his praise. "That being said… I'm kind of in deep for this little ray of sunshine that I'm always running around with, huh?" 

You hid your face, making him grin. 

"There's my shy girl." He laughed, tapping your cheek playfully with his thumb as he cradled your jaw. "Sweetheart, when you showed up dressed all punk…I thought maybe it was because I'd made you feel like you had to change the way you look because of me."

You relaxed a little. He wasn't exactly wrong. You had dressed like that for him. 

You blinked through your remaining tears, letting your cheek press into the palm of his hand. "C-Chrissy heard you say you think Elvira's pretty." 

Realization flashed in his eyes, a small smile creeping to his face, "Wait a second..." 

Your face flushed. 

He grinned, "Are you telling me that you tried to look like Elvira, because you wanted me to think you're pretty?" 

You nodded, ashamed, and toyed with the rips in his jeans, avoiding eye contact. 

Eddie was smiling like the sun, "Christ, you precious thing..."

"I wanted you to be proud of me at your show." You whined defensively. "I thought I'd stick out like a sore thumb in my normal clothes, and I like you so much Eddie. I know I'm not really your type, and I wanted to look pretty for you, like the girls in your band posters, but made a fool of myse-" 

"Y/N L/N." He took your face firmly in both hands, making you look him dead in the eye. It was only then that you realized he was giving you that look again. Like you'd hung the stars. "How on earth have you not realized that you've got me on a fucking string?" 

You frowned, eyes glossed with emotion. "What?" 

Eddie chuckled, disbelieving. "Baby, forget Elvira. Do you even know what you do to me?" 

You could only sit there in front of him dumbly, lips parted in shock. 

"Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I look forward to seeing you all week. I'm like a man deprived. And then you show up looking so happy to see me and you're dressed so sweet with your little bows and lace. God...I can't get you out of my head." 

Eddie's cheeks were pink.

"You wanted me to be proud of you, baby? I'm so fuckin proud of you. I feel like I've won the lottery every time you smile at me. A pretty thing like you running around with a freak like me? That's a miracle. And I will show you off to every damn person I see, angel. I'm so proud of you. Proud that you'd even humor me enough to come to my show, let alone change up your entire look just for me? Holy shit. I'm the luckiest son of a bitch there is." 

You were smiling now, trying to hide your face from him in the couch cushions as he pulled you close, kissing your cheeks through your giggles. He crawled up onto the couch, tickling your sides until you were smiling ear to ear, and your tears were replaced with happy ones. 

You laid on your back now with his head rested on your tummy, playing with his curls passively as he admired you. "Who's your celebrity crush, huh?" 

"You." 

Eddie chuckled, "Oh, come on…There's got to be someone." 

You blushed, eyeing the smirk on his face. 

He hummed, "Rob Lowe?" 

You shook your head, busy with his curls. 

"Tom Cruise? You into pilots?" 

You laughed, shaking your head again. 

He watched you closely, "Ralph Macchio?" You paused for a moment, your ears burning as Eddie's face split into a grin. "Oh, Shit! She's into Macchio!!" 

You hid your face, "Oh, Eddie. It's nothing really. I just thought he was awfully cute in-"

Eddie's big brown eyes, lit up. "You think Chrissy will make me over too? Oh man, I've got to start Karate lessons!" 

"Noo!!" You squealed, shoving him playfully on the shoulder. 

"I'm serious! Wax on, Wax off…I'll start calling you Grasshopper and learn how to do that kick!" 

You held your stomach, laughing through his verbal sound effects as he mimed the kick poorly with a socked foot. "Eddie, you'll break a leg doing that!" 

He grinned, "It's only fair, babe. You got to be Elvira!" 

***********

[fans4wga]

8 NOVEMBER: SAG REACHES TENTATIVE AGREEMENT TO END STRIKE

"After a grueling118 days on strike, SAG-AFTRA has officially reached a tentative agreement on a new three-year contract with studios, a move that is heralding the end of the 2023 actors’ strike.

The SAG-AFTRA TV/Theatrical Committee approved the agreement in a unanimous vote on Wednesday, SAG-AFTRA announced. The strike will end at 12:01 am Thursday.

The performers’ union and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers announced the provisional agreement on Wedneday, after about two weeks of renewed negotiations. If ratified by the SAG-AFTRA members, the deal could bring an end to the strike that kneecapped Hollywood for much of the summer and early fall in conjunction with the writers’ strike, which ended in late September.

The union and the AMPTP are so far being mum on the details of the agreement, which will emerge in the next few days prior to the union’s ratification vote. If the deal is ratified, the contract could soon go into effect, and if not, members would essentially send their labor negotiators back to the bargaining table with the AMPTP. It was unclear as of press time whether the union would end the strike before or after the ratification vote.

When negotiations restarted on Oct. 2 for the first time since SAG-AFTRA called its work stoppage in July, hopes were high in the industry that Hollywood’s largest union could come to terms with major companies quickly. Just like they had in the final days of the writers’ negotiations, Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos, Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav, Disney CEO Bob Iger and NBCUniversal Studio Group chairman and chief content officer Donna Langley attended the talks at the union’s national headquarters in Los Angeles. But the studio ended up walking out on Oct. 11 over SAG-AFTRA’s proposal to charge a fee per every streaming subscriber on major platforms in a move that the union’s chief negotiator called “mystifying” (Sarandos called the ask “a bridge too far“).

The sides reconvened on Oct. 24 after a nearly two-week break. This time, the studios came in with a more generous offer to increase actors’ wage floors and a slightly modified version of a success-based streaming bonus they had previously offered the WGA. The two sides exchanged proposals for much of the week in a tense situation that had the industry on edge. Even as a deal came into sight, progress was slow, especially when it came to putting the contract’s inaugural guardrails on AI: The union considers the rapidly advancing technology an absolutely existential issue for members and sought to close any potential loopholes that could lead to future issues. On Saturday the studios presented what the union characterized as the companies’ “last, best and final,” overarching offer (still, the two sides kept swapping offers after).

When the union’s previous contract expired in mid-July and SAG-AFTRA went out on strike, many outstanding issues were left on the table. Setting terms for the use of A.I. was a major sticking point between union and studio negotiators, as was a proposal to provide casts with additional streaming compensation. Union negotiators sought to institute an unusually large minimum rate increase in the first year of the contract, a host of ground rules for self-taped virtual auditions and major increases to health and pension contributions “caps” that have not been changed since the 1980s. Meanwhile, as the entertainment business continues to experience a period of contraction, major companies looked to preserve some measure of flexibility and cost control.

SAG-AFTRA’s strike, coming as it did amid an ongoing writers’ strike in July, gave the union an unusual amount of leverage early on in its talks with the AMPTP. Almost immediately, most remaining unionized U.S. productions that were operating without writers shut down, including Deadpool 3 and Venom 3. An as the months of the work stoppage stretched on, a strategist at the Milken Institute has estimated that the strikes have cost the California economy alone at least $6 billion.

But pressure started to build as the strike neared and surpassed its 100-day mark. A-lister actors began talking to both their union and the studios in an attempt to improve progress in the negotiations. A number of actors also started drafting a letter expressing concerns about the union’s leadership but held back from publishing it, fearful of the missive’s potential impact on negotiations. Then, on Oct. 26, a separate letter was released signed by apparently thousands of actors, exhorting negotiators, “We have not come all this way to cave now.”

The amount of time that the union spent on strike in 2023 will certainly raise expectations for the deal they reached with studios. In the union’s upcoming ratification vote, the date of which has not yet been announced, members will decide whether the pact is acceptable to them."

[aautiemiller-rockcenter]

NYCDA Nationals Senior Solo Awards

1st-2nd Scored Above 299 3rd-6th Scored Above 298 7th-15th Scored Above 297

Erik Barker - Larkin Dance Studio!

Izzy Howard - Westside Dance Project!

Charlie Head - Downtown Dance Factory

Kendall Moshay - TopFlight Dance

Ava Luna - Dance Academy North Jersey

Koda Nayback - Artflux Dance Lab

Caleb Abea - Larkin Dance Studio

Hannah Elzbet - Performing Dance Arts

Melanie Kalogritsas - Performing Dance Arts

Ayla Rodriguez - Artistic Fusion

Alyssa Carpeneto - Performing Dance Arts

Emerson Rogers - Artistry In Motion WA

Mia Edmonds - The Dallas Conservatory

Ava Crean - Mary Alice's Dance

Nathaniel Chua - NINE Dance Academy, Olivia Gannon - New Dimensions Dance

Raina Wu - Yoko's Dance

Ava Greenwaldt - Golden State Ballet

Zada Britton - Canadian Contemporary Theatre

Noelle Hogan - Brava Dance Center Juliet Judkins - Mid-Atlantic Center

Hayley Wilson - Renner Dance Company

Jaicey Thomas - Renner Dance Company

Luke Barrett - Dance Attack Los Gatos

Malcolm Takumi - CAP The Company

McKenzie Lambert - Renner Dance Company

Jackson Conley - Hoffmans School of Dance

Audrey Zhu - Embody Dance Company

Colin Gross - The Dallas Conservatory

Ella Beatty - Patti Eisenhauer Dance

Gracen? - Artists Revealed Dance

Presli James - North Austin Dance Artists