#sister wives interview

[amandaanddonnie]

Sister Wives Mykelti Padron CONFIRMS Robyn Brown's DOLL COLLECTION

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change Of Heart - 5 (Edited ver.)

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky stood near the dock, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. The waves lapped gently against the wooden posts, a rhythmic sound that did little to soothe the restlessness inside him. The sky had begun to darken, shades of deep blue swallowing the last traces of daylight.

"Sir, it's getting dark," his secretary reminded him softly, standing a few steps behind.

Bucky didn't respond immediately. Instead, he exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Did your parents divorce?"

The secretary blinked at the sudden question. "No, sir. But my sister did. She divorced her first husband."

Bucky hummed, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean stretched endlessly. "Was it the right choice?"

"I think so," the secretary admitted. "She smiles more with her second husband. He was divorced too. Somehow, they complete each other. It’s like they both learned from their past mistakes."

Bucky finally turned to look at him. "How long have they been together now?"

"Five years."

Silence settled between them. Bucky lowered his gaze, staring at the ground as if lost in thought. His parents divorced when he was young. His father changed wives like the seasons, to where Bucky had lost count of how many stepmothers he'd had. And his mother—she had become a well-known rich cougar, the kind who made headlines.

When two broken people come together, they begin to heal. But what happened between him and you... something still hurts deep down. Though both of you completed each other, seeing you leave felt like it wasn’t enough.

Bucky had spent years running from his past, avoiding the feelings he buried deep within himself. He'd been afraid of truly connecting, terrified that giving in to love would mean vulnerability—and he’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable. But with you, something changed.

He started to open up, piece by piece. He had found solace in your presence, a kind of comfort he never thought he’d experience. You made him feel like maybe it was okay to be human.

But even as the wounds began to heal, a part of him remained fractured. The scars weren’t completely gone. And as he watched you walk away, that deep-seated fear—of losing someone, of being left behind—came rushing back. He realized he wasn’t as whole as he thought he was.

Without another word, Bucky pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen momentarily before he made the call. He held the device to his ear and started walking, his steps slow and aimless as he paced along the dimly lit dock. A few streetlights flickered, casting long shadows over the worn planks beneath his feet.

The therapist answered after a few rings.

"My advice?" The voice on the other end was calm. "Let her go. Don't stop her. If she wants to come back, she will."

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His grip on the phone tightened. He didn’t agree.

"Do you have any sexual desire toward her?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

"Do you feel safe when you're around her?"

"...Yes."

"Do you want to come home faster when you know she's waiting there?"

Bucky exhaled through his nose. "Yes."

The therapist paused before asking the last question.

"Do you have feelings for her?"

This time, Bucky hesitated. His lips parted, but the words didn't come as easily. "...No." But his voice lacked conviction.

The therapist remained silent for a beat before finally speaking.

"It will grow on you. Just wait and see."

Bucky lowered the phone, staring at the dark waters ahead. The wind picked up, tousling his hair, but he barely noticed. His chest felt tight, the answer lingering in his mind.

Had he really meant it?

The Next Day

Bucky followed you.

He shouldn’t have, but he did.

He was already waiting by the dock when you returned from your scuba diving lesson. You looked different—lighter, freer. The usual quiet presence he was familiar with had been replaced by someone more expressive, more alive. You laughed while talking to strangers, engaging with them in a way he had never seen before. When you were with him, you spoke to his colleagues, sure, but never like this. With them, it was polite conversation, surface-level. But now? You were glowing.

And Bucky didn't know how to feel about that.

You spotted him standing near the railing, and your smile faltered for just a second before returning. Surprise flickered in your eyes, but there was something else too—relief, maybe.

"You're still here," you said, your voice carrying a mix of disbelief and quiet gladness.

Bucky was about to respond, but then his gaze caught on you peeling off your wetsuit.

He froze.

It wasn’t like you were undressing provocatively—you were simply taking off your gear. But in the two years you'd been together, neither of you had ever seen the other completely bare. You had shared a home, a bed even, but always with an unspoken distance.

His throat went dry, and he forced himself to turn away, his jaw tightening.

Bucky had seen countless women undress before, but this—this was different. This was you. And it was as if some part of his brain refused to process it. He waited in silence, staring at the dark water until he heard your footsteps approaching.

You had changed into dry clothes and now stood beside him, leaning against the dock railing.

“I guess Grandpa won’t allow you to come home,” you said.

Bucky let out a dry chuckle. “How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

He exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. But I guess… I failed. You don’t want to come back.”

“Not yet.”

Silence. The waves rolled in and out, filling the space between you.

You looked out at the sea, your expression unreadable. Then, as if speaking more to yourself than to him, you asked, “Do you ever wonder why we’re compatible?”

It was a good question. Because in truth, on paper, you shouldn’t be.

Most marriage contracts like yours didn’t last. Some couples couldn’t even stand each other for the duration of their agreement. They broke it off before the ink had dried.

You exhaled through your nose, then said with a smirk, “Because both of us are ambitious as fuck.”

Bucky scoffed. He almost laughed, but he held it in, shaking his head instead.

Then, in a quieter voice, he asked, “If you love me, why are you leaving?”

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes were softer now, but firm, steady.

“Bucky, I know you’re not ready for this. And I won’t push you. You need to figure it out yourself.”

His chest tightened.

He had spent years figuring himself out. Years battling the demons that kept him tethered to his past. But had he actually moved forward?

“I used this marriage contract to get money,” you admitted. “To have a higher status than my father. Feeling superior to him gave me satisfaction.”

Bucky swallowed hard. He understood that. He understood it too well.

He had never wanted to be in a relationship—not out of fear, but as an act of rebellion. His parents' marriage had been a disaster, a revolving door of broken vows and replacements. His father cycled through wives like a man cycling through business investments. His mother had responded by becoming one of the most infamous rich cougars in town, collecting younger lovers as if to prove something to the world.

Love, as far as Bucky had seen, was nothing more than a transaction.

He had despised it.

But now, standing here, he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So this is goodbye, then?”

“For now,” you said, your voice gentle. “I just want to do what I’ve been holding back. I want to grow up.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean? We’re already in our thirties.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was knowing, understanding.

“I mean growing up from the trauma.” Your voice softened. “Bucky, both of us were stuck as kids because of what happened to us. Our pasts kept us frozen in time. But I don’t want to stay stuck anymore. I want to move forward. I want to leave the trauma behind.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He couldn't.

“The reason I didn’t come back,” you continued, “is because I still love you. And that terrifies me. I’m running away because I can’t be near you without feeling everything too much.”

Bucky sucked in a slow breath.

This was the first time anyone had ever said those words to him like this—with honesty, with vulnerability. It was the first time he had ever received a love confession that wasn’t transactional, that wasn’t tied to expectations.

And he didn’t know what to do with it.

You stepped back. “I hope that the next time we meet, everything will be different.”

Bucky watched as you walked away, disappearing into the crowd. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe for a long moment. Then, slowly, he let out a shaky exhale.

Something was shifting inside him, something he didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t just loss. It wasn’t just regret.

It was something deeper.

A few moments later, he pulled out his phone and dialed his therapist.

When the call connected, his voice came out rough, almost reluctant.

“I think I’m starting to have… sexual desires toward her.”

There was silence on the other end.

Then, finally, his therapist sighed.

“Well, Bucky,” they said, “it looks like you’re finally catching up to your emotions.”

He decided to leave you alone, but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. No matter what, you had been there for him for two years. Marriage contract or not, you left a lasting impression on his life.

When he returned, his grandfather was waiting for him, clearly hoping you would step off the plane with Bucky.

When he saw Bucky coming down alone, Tom clicked his tongue. “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky sighed. “Give her time. She’ll be back.” Even though he's not sure when you'll be back.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

One Year Later

The café inside the park was quiet, tucked away between tall trees and winding pathways. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light onto the wooden tables.

Bucky sat alone, a tablet in one hand, a coffee cup in the other. He scrolled through reports, half-reading, half-listening to the sounds around him—the soft chatter of other patrons, the occasional bark of a dog, the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Then, a voice behind him made him nearly drop his tablet.

“I see you’re still a workaholic.”

His heart clenched. He knew that voice.

Slowly, he turned around—and there you were.

You stood before him, looking different yet familiar. Your skin was sun-kissed, your hair slightly lighter, and your presence felt… freer. There was an ease in your posture, a confidence in your stance that hadn’t been there before.

For a moment, Bucky just stared, as if making sure you were real. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“I don’t work as much as I used to,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Really? Who’s been keeping up with all your work, then?”

“My parents.”

That made you pause. “Your parents?”

He nodded, setting down his tablet. “Yeah. I finally faced it. The whole mess.”

And it had been a mess. For years, he had avoided confronting the real cause of his fears—his childhood. He thought that refusing to engage in relationships was an act of defiance, proof that he had broken free from his parents' toxic cycle. But in reality, he had been trapped just like them. Stuck in the same story, just playing a different role.

It wasn’t fair.

They had lived their lives—moving on, getting remarried, collecting younger lovers, burning through money—while he had been the one frozen in time, afraid to take a single step forward.

So he had done something drastic.

He had cut them off.

No more allowances, no more endless funds. Their luxurious lifestyles had been fueled by company profits, and Bucky had put an end to it.

“This company is not a charity,” he had told them. “You’ve used its assets to fund your lifestyles for too long. If I let this continue, we’ll go down in history as the first corporation to bankrupt itself paying alimony.”

His father had been furious. His mother had scoffed. But in the end, they had no choice. They had to start working.

They had been terrible parents. But, ironically, they turned out to be decent employees.

"Both of them have stopped acting childish," he said. His parents had also stopped playing the roles of sugar daddy and cougar. It turned out money was the solution.

Now, here he was, sitting across from the one person he had waited a year to see again.

"I fixed my relationship with my parents, especially my dad," you replied.

"That's good to hear," he responded.

After spending some time with your dad, you realized that without the rivalry, he's an easygoing person. You started contacting him daily.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “Does this mean you don’t love me anymore?”

Your gaze softened. “No. I never stopped loving you.” You smiled, almost shyly. “I just had a feeling this time would be different.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I see. So you’ve completed your self-discovery?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, lighter than it had ever been. You talked about your travels, the people you had met, and the experiences that had changed you. Bucky listened, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or a teasing comment, making you laugh. It felt easy—natural.

Then, as if it were nothing, you casually said, “I broke my leg climbing down a mountain.”

“What?!” His eyes widened, panic flashing through them.

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Some nuns from a nearby chapel helped me. They took care of me for a month.”

Bucky frowned, his mind racing. So that’s why you didn’t post an update for a month.

You nodded. “Yeah. They prayed for me.” Then, after a pause, you admitted, “I’ve never prayed before. But I started to. Admitting my anger, my sins… it made the weight feel lighter. I guess I’m sharing my burdens with God now.” You studied his reaction carefully. “Do you think I’ve turned into a religious freak?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. As long as you found peace.”

Silence settled between you, but it was a comfortable one.

Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

You grinned. “Yes.”

“Caramel Macchiato, hot, less sugar… right?”

You blinked, then gave him a thumbs-up. He smirked before getting up and heading toward the cashier.

When he returned, he placed the coffee in front of you, watching as you took a small sip.

Then you said, “On my way here, I passed by a cinema playing Interstellar.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with interest. That was his favorite movie—the one he always watched when he had time alone.

“Really?”

“You interested?” You pulled out two tickets and held them up.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Let’s go.”

As you both walked side by side, he glanced at you.

“You know,” he said, “you could share your burdens with me too.”

You turned to him, your expression unreadable.

Was that… a proposal?

Bucky continued, his tone calm but firm. “We’ve known each other for two years. You left for one. And yet, you came back with the same feelings. And I waited a year for you to come back.”

Your heart pounded.

This time, it wasn’t just a contract. It wasn’t a transaction.

It was something real. Something earned.

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid of it.

This time, there was a difference between them.

Before, they had been trapped—chained to the past, repeating old patterns, clinging to wounds that refused to heal. They had mistaken their pain for identity, their fears for inevitability.

But now, they had changed.

Not because time had passed, but because they had made the choice to move forward.

They had faced their demons, made peace with their scars, and learned to let go. Bucky was no longer a man protesting love out of spite. And you were no longer someone running away to find yourself.

You had both found your own way—separately.

And yet, in the end, that path had led you back to each other.

-The End-

Epilogue:

Bucky suddenly remembered something. “I should call Grandpa to let him know you’re back.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I already met him when I landed. That’s how I knew where to find you.”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. Even after a year, you still cared about Tom.

After watching the movie, he will take you to meet Tom. His grandpa will welcome you with open arms and finally stop calling him an "idiot."

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[gorgeys]

Hi! Could you a Naomi x female reader, where her older brother works for Jordan and she meets Naomi at the party and gets a lil jealous when Jordan tries to hit on the reader? Thanks!

FRIENDS? ★ naomi lapaglia

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x fem!reader

You quickly catch Jordan's eye at a party, but Naomi wants you all to herself...

Warnings: mentions of sex, flirting, corruption kink??, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3110

Note: ayee i'm obsessed with naomi so i loved writing this request! there's also another naomi request that will be coming out shortly and that will def be a long one! i believe in margot robbie supremacy

b/n = brother's name

You stared in awe as you approached the mansion.  It was by far the largest house you had ever seen.  You looked to your brother and he only smiled.  It seems he was adjusting to the shift in your lives much faster than you.

He had only begun working for Jordan a couple months ago when rent was tight and there was barely any food in the fridge.  You had just moved in with him to help cut costs for the both of you as you sunk deeper into student loans and edged barely closer to your degree.  If things couldn’t get any worse, your brother was laid off from his job out of nowhere. He began interviews for practically every job on Wall Street when your luck changed tremendously.  He landed a job at Stratton Oakmont.

He climbed the ranks quickly.  You and your brother had quite a unique charisma, one that allowed you to manipulate many social situations in your favor and it was no different at Stratton.  With his charm and hard-working attitude, your brother was one of the few to have a personal connection with the founders of the company and he could feel that promotion coming.  But it was just out of reach.  So he quickly enlisted you to give him a little push.

There was an obvious shift in your lifestyle as soon as your brother got the job.  He was able to provide for the both of you plus decorate the apartment and take you out to lavish dinners.  Life just seemed so much brighter for the both of you.  So you would do anything to keep your lives like this.  Even if it meant playing this part.

It was the first time you’d be attending one of Stratton’s famous parties.  Your brother let you hang off his arm, dolled up in a completely brand new designer outfit, just how Jordan liked it.  Your dress was as short as it could be without being socially unacceptable and your neckline plunged so deep that your tits were nearly popping out.  Your heels were custom made and reeled in your flashy dress to make it a classy look.  Your make-up was done to a tee, emphasizing the soft features of your face, and your hair was curled into perfect waves.  Even your brother, who had teased you all your childhood, agreed you were a sight for sore eyes.  There was no way you wouldn’t catch Jordan’s attention.

Everything seemed to fall into place as you entered.  Eyes were on you from the moment you stepped inside, men in suits turning their heads to gape while their wives and girlfriends knocked them on the back of the head for looking.  You smiled just as you had rehearsed in the mirror and strutted as elegantly as you could muster even if you had to relearn to walk in those tall heels.

Most of the men you passed patted your brother on the shoulder in greeting, eyeing you up in the process.  Your brother had to reiterate several times that you were his sister, hoping he’d be able to avoid any risque comments about the two of you for the night.

You hid your excitement at the expensive environment, causally downing a champagne flute from a server, while you soaked up the extravagance of the house and the people.

It wasn’t long before your brother elbowed you in the side.

“Look, right over there,” he said, nodding his head to the left.  “That’s Jordan.”

When you looked, he was already staring back at you.  He leaned against the giant glass windows of the living room, a mystery drink in his hand.  He was wearing a suit but several of the buttons of his button up were undone, exposing his chest.  His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot.  While he was a little sleazier than you expected, you shouldn’t have been surprised considering the insane stories your brother had told you about his addictions to sex and drugs.

He was surrounded by a group of men who you could only assume were the founding members of the company.  They had noticed you from a mile away and you could faintly hear them talking about you and how badly they wanted to fuck you.  One even said he’d fuck you even if you were his sister.  You pretended not to notice as they shoved Jordan playfully, egging him on to approach you.  For the Wolfie to handle you, as they put it.

He confidently half-smiled at you before shifting his shoulders, fixing his suit jacket.  He sloppily ran his hand through his hair before he began walking toward you.  He sauntered arrogantly, as if he already had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes ran all over you though he tried his best to hide it.

“B/N!  Good to see you,” Jordan exclaimed, stretching his hand out to give your brother a firm handshake.

“Hi, Jordan, great party,” your brother said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he dismisses your brother, his eyes quickly turning onto you.  “Now don’t be rude and introduce me to this lovely lady you’ve got here,” he said, nodding toward you, a smile stretching across his lips.

“This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Aah,” he sighs, his face lighting up with excitement.  “Sister,” he repeats, grinning widely.

“I just wanted to bring her along and show her what a Stratton party’s all about.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan” you say, in a honey-sweet voice, showing your pearly whites.  You can tell he’s already hypnotized as you look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes with doe eyes.  You extend your hand toward him with the graceful flick of your wrist and he holds it so delicately.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.  Your smile widens accordingly as he refuses to let go of your soft skin.

“You know, you’ve got a really great place here.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before,” you say, your eyes flicking up to the enormous glass chandelier above you that would certainly kill everyone in the room if it ever came crashing down.  You ignored that thought and looked back into his star-struck eyes with an excited gaze.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, enjoying himself too much.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding along.

You wouldn’t have called him unattractive but he wasn’t really your type.  Either way you’d let him have one freaky night with your body in return for a large check deposited in your brother’s bank account.  You hoped he was a good lay but your instincts were telling you otherwise.

He shooed your brother away to go talk to some of the other guys while he entertained you, talking himself up and offering you several compliments.  It was when he stepped closer to you that his wife noticed the two of you from across the room.  She was sipping on her champagne and gossiping in a huddle of powerful wives when you caught her eye, your hand holding her husband’s for way too long.

She was no fool, she saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you.  She remembered that dangerous glint in his eyes from when she had first met him at a party like this one.  And we all know how that went.

She was ready to cause a scene, to impulsively confront him in the large crowd and beat him senseless with a glass bottle for even looking at another woman.  But something distracted her.

She had the perfect view of you from the side as you moved your free hand across your lower back.  Then your hand moved lower, lower, lower, gliding across your ass, smoothing out the fabric of your tight dress.  Naomi’s eyes were fixed.  Finally your fingers pulled lightly on the hem of your dress, trying to bring it down as it had rode up a little too high, showing off most of your bare thighs.

That’s when she stopped herself and decided to give you a closer look.  And that’s also when she realized she was no better than her husband.

You weren’t like any of the other women Jordan flirted with.  No, you were flawless.  Her eyes examined your figure and noticed how every curve of your body was carved so smoothly, so perfectly that she couldn’t look away.  She could only imagine the way your skin would feel beneath her fingers; she assumed it was soft and pliable. She imagined how each arch of your body would fit perfectly into her hands like you were molded just for that reason.  She wanted to admire you for the rest of the night. And it felt like you were enticing her, like you were asking for her touch in that low-cut dress.  It wasn’t hiding much but still, Naomi wished she could see more.

She realized that she could barely blame her husband for his reaction.  Your beauty was baffling and undeniable.  What could she expect from Jordan, a man who couldn’t hide his desires nearly as well as she could hide hers.

For a moment your eyes strayed away from his and you glanced in Naomi’s direction.  Your hand carelessly brushed your hair back and Naomi was slightly mesmerized.  She sucked her lips into her mouth, imprinting the features of your face into her mind, forgetting which reality she was in.

Her stomach churned, her body telling her brain that her need for you was innate.  The way your lips curved into a pure smile and your eyes were full of light made her want to ruin you.   She wanted to whisk you off to some far away place to have you only for herself.  She wanted to melt away that pretty facade and see what lurked beneath your shiny surface.

It was impossible for her to restrain her own thoughts as just a single look at you brought up such deep, impure desires.  She was no better than a man but you made her like that.

Her chest burns as Jordan leans impossibly closer to you, whispering something in your ear.  You giggle delightfully, comfortably holding on to his shoulder.  He takes that as a sign to wrap his arm around your waist, practically engulfing you with his body while his lips stay uncomfortably close to your ear.

Naomi couldn’t believe the audacity of her husband to throw himself onto you in public.  No, you deserved much better than to be smothered in sweat and cologne in front of all these important people.  You deserved someone who would treat you right and then, behind closed doors, someone who would treat you so wrong.  She knew her husband couldn’t do any of that for you.  You didn’t deserve him.

By then she had placed her glass onto a table with a little too much force and allowed her feet to carry her across the room.  She straightens up the neckline of her dress and clicks her heels into the ground with a purpose.  You deserved her.

“Jordan!” a thick Brooklyn accent cuts through the air.

It surprises you slightly but it seems to shock Jordan into action as he abruptly pulls away from you.  You’re left awkwardly standing alone as he steps back from you.  Your hands clutch onto the sides of your thighs for comfort.

“Naomi!  Baby!” he exclaims, outstretching his arms to the blonde thundering toward you.  He puts on a large smile and leans back comfortably as if he wasn’t just all over you.

She doesn’t accept his embrace but swats his hands away from her.  She moves to stand at his side.

“You gonna introduce me to your little friend here?” she says, motioning toward you with one of her hands.  Her voice is laced with an attitude that scares you.  You’re not quite sure if it's venomous but it’s definitely strong.  She turns to face you and plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stutters, looking nervously between the two of you.  “This is Y/N.  And Y/N-”

“I’m Naomi, Jordan’s wife,” she cuts him off.

You had heard stories about Naomi, about how her beauty transcended time, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting the masterpiece that stood before you.  You were rendered speechless for a moment, staring stupidly at her, your lips slightly parted.

Long blonde hair trailed down her shoulders, barely covering her thick gold hoop earrings.  Her face looked like it was sculpted by the gods, with a jawline sharper than a knife and pink lips that pursed curiously at you.  Her tight baby blue dress with a perfect cleavage cutout matched her blue eyes lined with thick eyeliner.

You couldn’t fathom how Jordan could cheat on her.  She was probably the most perfect human you had seen in your entire life.  And here you were trying to seduce her husband.

Her eyes aggressively ran up and down your body, soaking up every last drop of you.  They held some dark emotion behind them.  Using the context of the situation you assumed it was jealousy but she knew it was lust.  It was the first time that night you felt so small and so flustered, your confident facade fading away.

You hoped it wasn’t showing on your face but from the way her lips quirked upward as she extended her hand, you could tell she was enjoying your agitated state.

“Hi, Naomi,” you said, speaking a little quieter than you had with Jordan before.  You accepted her hand, expecting a tense shake, but her grip was even gentler than her husband’s.  In fact, her hands were the softest you had ever held.

She copied Jordan’s movements, just more delicately.  She brought your hand to her lips, leaning slightly forward to give the back of your hand a chaste kiss.  Her eyes didn’t leave yours the entire time, making your stomach bubble in forbidden arousal.  The gesture felt so intimate, as if no one else was watching.

If you weren’t in awe before, you were hypnotized now.  Her beauty was ethereal and from the way she handled you, you began to question her intentions with you.  Your perception of her as the jealous wife was slowly fading into the background.

If Jordan wasn’t your type, his wife surely was.

He looked between the two of you, completely unsure of what to say.  It seemed he was in quite a pickle as it seemed his wife’s unpredictable behavior would soon get in the way of his endeavors with you.

“You know, you’re a cute one, doll,” she said, her tongue slightly poking through her teasing smile.  Her strong accent only made every word out of her mouth even sexier, especially that pet name.  Doll.  You’d love to be her doll.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes ever so slightly widen.  You attempted to ignore the arousal you felt beneath your dress as your nails dug anxiously into the fabric of your dress.  You momentarily wondered whether you should thank her for the compliment before deciding against it.  Each reaction out of you only pushed her to continue, to test your limits.

“I almost don’t blame my husband for looking at you the way he does,” she said, her eyes momentarily shifting to your cleavage before focusing on the small twitches of your face again.

You took a sharp breath and opened your mouth wider like you wanted to respond and apologize but Jordan beat you to it.

“Come on, baby.  You know I only have eyes for you,” he whines and pouts like a child, leaning closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.  She instantly pushes him off of her, disgusted by his touch, without sparing him a glance.

All you want to do is walk away and distance yourself from this married couple’s petty quarrel but your feet seem too heavy to move.  You can’t help but love the way Naomi looks at you.

“But I can assure you he’s no fun,” she says, ignoring her husband’s pleading looks.   “Very vanilla, you know?  And he comes too fast.”  She whispers that last part like he’s not even there although he can clearly hear her.

Both you and Jordan share the same state of shock.  You can’t help but feel like you’re learning too much information about the couple you met a few minutes ago.  But the way Naomi speaks to you it feels like you’ve known her much longer.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry-” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Myself on the other hand,” she says, trailing off for a few moments.  She presses her lips together as if she’s looking through you, her thoughts taking her to far away places.  The glint in her eye is mischievous and you want her to take you with her.  “We can have lots of fun together.”

Your insides are screaming the moment the words leave her lips, her devilish smile only making the feeling worse.  You can only dream about what she’s implying and your imagination runs wild. You’re already putty in her hands, you both can feel it.

“What’d you say, you wanna be friends?” she says, her tone seemingly innocent.  But one look in those blue eyes would say otherwise.

“Friends?” you ask breathlessly.  You let your head hang low and your bottom lip push out toward her, silently questioning the meaning of the word.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling brightly.  But there’s a coy element about it.  “You wanna be my friend?”  Her eyes check you out once more just for emphasis.

There’s your answer.

The initial goal of seducing Jordan is long forgotten.  Quick cash seems irrelevant compared to the duchess before you, especially now that she seems within reach.  If you didn’t accept her offer you were sure you’d regret it.

You nod cautiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

She instantly beams at you with a conniving grin while internally congratulating herself for a mission accomplished.  You feel your lips reciprocate in a stunned smile.

“Good.  Let’s get you another drink, doll” she says, reaching out and grabbing your hand.  She tugs you behind her as she heads toward the home bar.  She gives you a raunchy look over her shoulder while you let her control your every movement.  “Then I can show you around.”

Your smile grows while Jordan is left standing stupidly by himself.  He curses under his breath, wondering how he fumbled so badly.

i'm screaming

[saintslewis]

Pink + White



pairing: charles leclerc x black fem dj!reader

summary: in which your relationship with charles gets exposed so you decide to just hard launch

face claim: uncle waffles 😋

social media au. (with a bit of writing)

-

twitter

instagram

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, arthurleclerc and 3,684,291 others

yourinstagram mon amour

view comments

user did we skip a few chapters??

user i don't remember seeing this in the prologue???

leclerk MARRIAGE?!

yourinstagram i'm just as surprised as you are tbh

carlossainz55 you have no idea how hard it was to keep this secret

charles_leclerc you are very much appreciated, mate

landonoriss i took the second pic btw 🤭

yourinstagram you want a cookie?

landonoriss yes pls

yourinstagram they're in the pantry, come over whenever

lewishamilton congrats you two! sending love and light 🤍

yourinstagram thank you Lewis 🥹 and thank you for making me work during our engagement party

lewishamilton i didn't know anyone better 😭

yourinstagram i'll take that hidden compliment, old man

user user look! she’s sooooo pretty! Charles is so lucky

user and they do look like the ending of pink + white

yourinstagram this is the sweetest thing ever omg??

fan my fav dj is engaged to my fav f1 driver?? what is life? tutorial?

yourinstagram we have a couples interview coming up soon so stay tuned for that 🩷

scuderiaferrari our favourite lady in red ❤️

yourinstagram didn't want to mess up this face beat but the tears are already flowing 🥹🫂

danielricciardo so i have a slight favour....

yourinstagram lemme hard launch in peace pls

lilymhe and how the FUCK have i never seen you at races?

yourinstagram what if i told you i'm an international super spy?

user SUPER SPYYY

ynstan we lost you to a YT MAN?!

yourinstagram listen, i love this yt man very much

arthurleclerc am i allowed to gloat that i was the first to know?

yourinstagram you can gloat but don't forget you literally barged in after the proposal

arthurleclerc why'd you call me out like this?

formula1 this was not on our 2023 bingo card but we love this very much

charles_leclerc my beautiful wife

yourinstagram my darling husband

f1wagupdates

liked by ynlover, mercedesgirly and 3,345 others

f1wagupdates looks like we have a new lady joining the paddock (she’s on the left!). Her name is Y/n Y/l/n (soon to be Leclerc) and she is an international dj by profession. She is reportedly two years younger than Charles and spends most of her off days in Monaco with him. The couple revealed their relationship by Y/n showing off a diamond ring on her latest post. We wish this beautiful couples nothing but happiness!

view comments

user are we just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?

user is the elephant in the room with us? and if you're gonna say it, just say it with your chest you loser

user an insider said that she already deals with direct insults from paddocks around the world. i can't imagine what she's about to go through

user if you scroll on her page, all you see is her wearing skimpy clothes for her job with everything showing. charles deserves better

user if anything, she serves cunt in every way possible and when you say he deserves better, you're talking about yourself? bc boy do I have news for YOU 🤣

user love a black woman from infinity to infinityyyyyy

user my god, she is gorgeous

user saw her in show once and she is TALENTEDT

user here comes his 'wives' in the comments being weird

user like he's my husband but i will GLADLY be sister wives with her

user not sure if i want her or him or both

user when i saw the rumours, i didn't know that she was THIS pretty like how did Charles pull her????

f1wagupdates that's what we're thinking

user the twitter girlies were right omg and the fact that she drives the pista had to mean they were married bc literally no one but him drives that car

user she seems so sweet, i hope nothing bad happens to her

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 5,838,393 others

charles_leclerc mi belle

view limited comments

user how the hell did he pull her???

charles_leclerc her mom helped

sebastianvettel congratulations ❤️

charles_leclerc thank you, mate 🫂

carmenmmundt my girlfriend 😋

georgerussell63 hello??

charles_leclerc hello???

yourinstagram hey Carmen 🥰

user this hair colour on her is so pretty

maxverstappen1 the one lady that Yuki is taller than ❤️

yourinstagram i will literally burn all your rbr caps, don’t test me

maxverstappen1 what are you gonna do? hit my knees? 🤣

yourinstagram i’ll ban you from entering clubs :)

maxverstappen1 okay sorry y/n 😕

interview

"Does this hair look fine?" You looked at Charles as you flipped your hair to the front to decide on how you want to look on camera. The Monegasque man stared with you with such admiration that he didn't even realise he wasn't blinking. You nudged him to break him out of his trance that you seemed to have on him and he shook his head a little, giving you a boyish smile when he saw your amused face.

“Everything looks good on you, baby.” Charles complimented you, something he can’t go a day without doing. Your smile had closed your eyes as you held each other’s hands. The camera crew in front of you were in awe at the two of you showing each other your love.

“Okay, are you guys ready to begin?” The interviewer asked as she sat across from you two. You both nodded and scooted closer together. She had introduced herself and the both of you as her guests before you introduced yourselves as each other’s fiancés before your careers which caused the studio to laugh.

“How did you two meet?”

“Mon amour, you can start. I’ll add on here and there.” Charles encouraged, playing with the jewellery on your hand and staring at your engagement ring, all the memories of the proposal coming back to him. It was summer break for f1 and you two were in the hotel room overlooking Lake Como, feeling like you were in a movie. You had planned to get lunch then take a boat ride to a famous landmark there. When you had gotten there, it was quiet and you barely saw the photographer that Charles had hired for that day. You both stood in the huge butterfly garden, with you distracted by the flowers, he knelt down on his knee and professed his love for you, ‘pink + white’ by frank ocean playing in the background per his request. It was private yet so beautiful, calling both your families who knew and Arthur surprising you after the proposal.

“It’s a cute story if I do say so myself. I had taken my mom to Monaco as it has always been our dream and I was finally able to provide that for her. We were sitting in this pretty cafe in Monte Carlo and to be fair, we were gossiping and laughing so of course people would hear us but we weren’t that loud.” You smiled at the memory, seeing everything as you spoke.

“All during our lunch, Charles and Arthur, my brother in law, were sitting next to us and they were in their own realm too.” You said, giving him a look so that he could say his version of the story.

“Well um like Y/n said, I’m with my brother and I kept trying to hear what accent she had because it was beautiful. So I turn to her and ask her where she was from and we just started talking as her mom and my brother are waiting for us to finish. Her mom even said that we were meant to be because when we met, the dress she was wearing was the same colour as my eyes.” Charles spoke, constantly looking between you and the camera.

“He then asked to take me on a date the very next day and he said that he wanted to give me the universe and would be happy if i spent time with him, even if it were a short while. Three years later, here we are.” You concluded, showing your ring to the camera as you couldn’t stop smiling.

Just the beginning for the Ferrari boy and his queen.

[byebyelullabye]

1. bar sitcom

No one knows how a trio of grad students Penelope Featherington, Phillip Crane, and Edwina Sharma came to own a bar right in the heart of prime Mayfair real estate but everyone stops asking questions once the alcohol starts flowing. Featuring a cast of characters such as waitresses Sophie and Michaela, investor Simon Basset, cooks Finch and Colin, ruthless yet loveable Kate, hopeless romantic regular Benedict, and many, many more. (saphne, kanthony, benophie, polin, philoise, franchaela)

2. rock band (social media au)

Grammy-wining rock band The Ledgertons was formed in 2012, consisting of brothers Anthony (lead guitar), Benedict (percussion), and Colin Bridgerton (lead vocals and bass) before being later joined by their sister Francesca (keyboards) in 2018.

Snippets from interviews, Spotify, Wikipedia, Tumblr, Twitter (Elon Musk who? No, he was never born in this world) and everywhere else fans and stans of The Ledgertons (or Ledgerheads as they're affectionately called) can be found as they matchmake their way through the internet such as when Anthony goes on the highly popular YouTube show Curry Shop Date with Kate Sharma (making it the most popular episode to date), when Benedict accidentally reveals his crush on his favorite graphic artist Sophie Baek, Colin's years-long will-they-won't-they saga with Penelope Featherington, best friend and head writer of Arlington (Flixer's biggest period drama TV series), and finally, Francesca's not-so-subtle chemistry in a collaboration with popstar icon Michaela Stirling. (franchaela, kanthony, polin, benophie, minor grucy)

3. casino robbery

The Bridgertons own a chain of casinos from one end of the globe to the other but one night, the three brothers all get distracted in the original London casino and hotel that started it all. The trio wake up in one of their hotel rooms to find their account 3 billion pounds lighter with differing accounts of what happened the night before with each of them meeting the woman of their dreams. Anthony's lily-scented goddess, Benedict's Lady in Silver, Colin's Lady Whistledown, all possibly turning out to be in kahoots??? Now it's a wild goose chase but what are these brunet idiots really chasing: getting the money back or their future wives? (kanthony, polin, benophie, minor saphne)

4. The Holiday

Penelope, an Irish rose living in Paris, needs to get out. After a brutal breakup with Alfie Debling, she's sick of it. Lovelorn in the city of love? Not on her watch.

Eloise Bridgerton is not big on emotions. Maybe growing up in London has its side effects. When her office forces her to use her vacation days in the summer, she finds a lovely Parisian cottage for a house swap.

Penelope's and Eloise's lives will never be the same. (polin and philoise)

5. vigilante shit

Kate, Sophie, and Penelope run multiple money laundering businesses. ABC (cops) can't keep up (benophie, kanthony, kanthony, minor franchaela, philoise and saphne)

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

[thefatesofspring]

I swear ever since I found out that ACOTAR was just a fanfic SJM wrote for Twilight so many things make sense!!

Aka twilight is terrible yet we love it anyway, Stephanie Meyer can’t write for shit & Bella Swan was a Stephanie Meyer self insert in the way that Feyre Archeron is a self insert for Sarah.

Also both Rhysand & Edward are written not for the books, plot or even the actual characters themselves but for the authors to the point where you can tell the characters own actions contradict themselves because both authors push their views & on the characters instead of letting the characters just be that…a character.

If you look at the Robert Pattison interviews & the way he talks about Twilight & his character Edward Cullen it’s fucking hilarious & glorious!😭😩😂 the way he shits on Stephanie & her writing it has me howling every single time!

Rhysand = Edward Cullen just a fae version & more powerful, both read minds, both old as hell & infatuated with a teenage girl, both have a rival (Tamlin & Jacob Black), both keep secrets from their fiancé’s/wife thus endangering them, both get their wives pregnant with babies that ultimately end up killing them, both babies are super powered, both get married to their mates when they’re mate hasn’t even lived their lives yet

Mor & Cassian = Rosalie & Emmett minus the actual relationship but they still fucked & the same way in Twilight everyone knows they’re in a relationship but at the same time because they’re like adopted by Carlisle everyone they’re also referred to as being brother & sister

Azriel = Jasper minus Azriel being a confederate

Then there’s just Amren 😂

Elain = Alice

You could even say that Rhysand & Feyre are both Edward & Bella & also Carlisle & Esme (since they both are the “leaders” of the family)but SJM wrote them as Edward & Bella

Then Nesta & Cassian become Rosalie & Emmett

Lucien = maybe Seth?

Amarantha = Victoria

Tamlin = Jacob (if you’ve read the books then you know how Jacob’s character actually is)

The Archeron sisters parents…Papa Archeron is a deadbeat & useless, Bella’s dad is just there (but still better than what the sisters had) but Bella’s mom lowkey useless & so was Mama Archeron

Feyre sees Nyx as an extension of Rhysand & so does Bella though Feyre might actually be a better mother than Bella because as a mother is…well not maternal in the slightest.

The inner circle is stupid rich, so were the cullens.

I could go on & on about it but shout out to that Reddit user who still had the copy of SJM’s Twilight fanfic & started doing the side by side comparisons!!

[goryhorroor]

my full complete list of dvds/vhs'

nosferatu (1922)

casper (1995)

28 days later (2002)

the wizard of oz (1939)

e.t. (1982)

terminator 2: judgement day (1991)

the hunger (1983)

a nightmare on elm street 3: dream warriors (1987)

the faculty (1998)

forbidden planet (1956)

hook (1991)

willy wonka & the chocolate factory (1971)

jurassic park (1993)

the beast from 20,000 fathoms (1953)

creature from the black lagoon (1954)

tarantula (1955)

the day the earth stood still (1951)

abbot and costello meet frankenstein (1948)

abbott and costello meet the mummy (1955)

witchfinder general (1968)

the adventures of young indiana jones (1999)

eve's bayou (1997)

ugetsu (1953)

the man who knew too much (1956)

the phantom of the opera (1925)

alice sweet alice (1976)

gallery of horror (1967)

dream no evil (1970)

house of the living dead (1974)

the clown murders (1976)

dracula's daughter (1936)

misery (1990)

my world dies screaming (1958)

night of the living dead (1968)

return of the jedi (1983)

boardinghouse (1982)

lake placid (1999)

almost famous (2000)

thelma & louise (1991)

flashdance (1983)

harry potter & the philopsopher's stone (2001)

blazing saddles (1974)

stripped to kill (1987)

legend of the werewolf (1975)

the parent trap (1961)

the mummy (1999)

fried green tomatoes (1991)

zodiac (2007)

princess mononoke (1997)

the thing (1982)

erin brockvich (2000)

friday the 13th (1980)

the strangers (2008)

final destination 3 (2006)

from dusk till dawn (1996)

event horizon (1997)

tron: legacy (2010)

the ring (2002)

paranormal activity (2007)

crimson peak (2015)

scream 3 (2000)

scream 2 (1997)

fatal attraction (1987)

twister (1996)

cape fear (1991)

goodnight mommy (2014)

the stepford wives (1975)

pretty woman (1990)

funny girl (1968)

sister act (1992)

the game (1997)

the outsiders (1983)

girl interrupted (1999)

the terminator (1984)

the crow (1994)

interview with the vampire (1994)

the orphan (2009)

it (1990)

carrie (1976)

the innkeepers (2011)

hansel & gretel: witch hunters (2013)

the changeling (1980)

trick 'r treat (2007)

the matrix (1999)

gattaca (1997)

cruel intentions (1999)

jaws (1975)

dazed and confused (1993)

the mummy (1932)

manhunter (1986)

valentine (2001)

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Behind the Scenes: A Woman's Guide to Sports

with Emily Hughes

Max had known his father was somewhere behind him as he and Kelly talked with Christian and Geri.

Jack had known his sister had gotten ahead a few steps on their way back to the Aston Martin area they were meant to be spending the race in.

What he wasn't expecting was what he, Trevor and Cole would stumble upon when they reached her.

There was no warning, no hello or greeting, just my body being roughly thrown into the wall outside of Redbull's hospitality, my body releasing a grunt on impact.

"Jack!" Is the first thing I can think to yell out, not even processing who now holds me by my shoulders.

"Who sent you here? If you think you're going to get some money out of me, or out of your brother you must be één stom kind (one dumb child)," the man in front of me bites, a thick accent on his tongue that can only be of Dutch origin.

"What?" Is the only question that comes to mind as I realize just who's in front of me.

Jos Verstappen.

Max Verstappen's father.

What the actual fuck.

"Hey! Get your hands off my sister!" Jack's voice cuts through my thoughts, bringing attention to where we are as Jack and Trevor pull Jos from me, Cole pulling me into his side protectively, chin resting on my head.

"Are you okay baby?" He whispers, moving to look into my eyes, one hand cupping my chin.

"I'm okay, my head just hurts a bit," is my answer, eyes not leaving my fuming brother as Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, his team principal and both their wives approach where Jack is now.

"Who the fuck do you think you are laying your hands on anyone, let alone my sister?!" He hollers, although Jos just looks smug, rolling up the sleeves of his button up before even considering a response.

"I don't know who you think you are," He begins, a scary smirk taking his face, "But I am the father of a two, soon to be three, world champion and I can have you removed from this paddock -"

"What is going on here," Christian Horner questions, looking between Cole and I and my brother who is now being slightly held by Trev.

"These kids are threatening me," Jos states, still looking smug, and I can feel every muscle in Cole's body tense.

"You shoved my girlfriend into the wall hard enough that her head hurts and you're trying to put this on us?" Cole questions, eyes on fire as Max and Christian look at me for confirmation, my being in shock, in part over what's just happened but also over having two F1 drivers right in front of me.

"Ik probeerde net terug te gaan naar Aston Martin (I was just trying to get back to Aston Martin)," I mumble, eyes meeting Max's in the knowledge that he knows what I'm saying. "I was minding my own business when he shoved me into the wall, claiming I was sent here and out to get money from him or 'my brother'," I repeat, Max nodding slowly.

"That's-"

"Probably exactly what happened," Max interrupts his own father. "Jos, leave."

"Max-"

"Do not make me call security," Christian steps in, stepping between the two men, and it's in such a fatherly, protective, manner that you can see how much he cares.

And Jos listens, storming off after shooting me a dirty look that has me curling closer to Cole, Jack and Trev coming over to our sides when he's far enough away.

"You okay, Kiddo?" Jack asks, a hand on my shoulder and eyes softening.

"Yeah J, I'm fine. It's just spooked me," I assure, him nodding, kissing the top of my head.

"You're Emily, right?" Norris is the one to ask, glancing to his friend. "Emily Verstappen?"

My eyes shoot wide, freezing my being.

"I am, but how do you know that?"

"I've heard of your podcast, one of the drivers, Logan, is American and listens when you have guests," Lando explains, and I can't help but blush. "Also I'm pretty sure you're interviewing my teammate Oscar and I tomorrow before the race," Something that I nod at in confirmation, knowing that's one of my obligations for being their guest.

"You here that kid, your little F1 drivers listen to your podcast," Trevor teases, earning an eye roll.

"This is why Jaime is my favorite Ducks player."

He gasps, hand to his heart, "You take that back right now."

"I've listened to some of your episodes," Kelly, Max's girlfriend admits, making me pause. "Max, my daughter and I actually listened to the one where you interviewed Taylor Swift and Kylie Kelce, Penelope is a big Taylor Swift fan," She adds with a chuckle.

"I am too, I could barely get through that interview without freaking out," I admit, her smiling warmly. "You should have seen Cole when he walked into our kitchen and saw Taylor and Kylie sitting at the counter with our cats talking about how Kylie wants one."

"Hi, I'm the Cole she's talking about, Cole Caufield, Montreal Canadians," Cole introduces himself with a little wave, arms coming to rest around my waist. "And this is her older brother, Jack Hughes, New Jersey Devils and our friend Trevor Zegras, Anaheim Ducks. Since she apparently forgot introductions."

"It's the autism, interpersonal interactions are a bit different with her," Jack jokes to the adults in front of them, although it's clear that the joke doesn't land.

"No, it's okay, he's not insulting me, he's just being honest," I assure, trying not to let Jack look like an asshole. "If anyone else joked like that he'd kick some ass."

But Max still looks uncomfortable, his eyes still on me and it's now that I fully process that he hasn't spoken except to send his father out of the paddock.

"You have autism?" Are the words he used to break his silence.

I just nod, shrugging slightly. "Diagnosed since I was six."

"You must have gotten it from Jos' side," He explains. "I was never tested, he couldn't admit that there may be something less than perfect about his ideal racer, but I've been told countless times how I've always shown signs."

"How- why are you connecting us through your father?"

I know the answer. At least I think I do. But there's no situation in which this is real.

"I hired someone to look into you after Lando introduced the grid to your podcast. They made one too many jokes about how similar we were for it to be a coincidence, so I looked for confirmation without speaking to Jos."

"That's not creepy at all," Trev mumbles, Cole slapping him on the back of his head for me.

"I pulled some strings to have Mclaren be one of the teams to invite you four when Max got his answers," Lando chimes.

"I would have invited you personally, but with Aston and Mclaren already inviting you, there was no reason for Red Bull to," Christian also adds.

"Are you trying to tell me... that I'm related to you?"

"Half sister, yes," He nods, as if this is normal. "Apparently your birth mother relinquished custody to my father after your birth, and he gave you to the placement company that put you with the family you're with."

"Put her with her family,"Jack corrects, a cold look in his normally soft eyes.

"Max didn't mean it like that," Kelly is quick to correct. "What he's just trying to establish is that they are related, not at all that you and your family are not hers."

"He knows," Trevor assures, elbowing Jack for being Jack. "All the boys are just super protective of Em. Always have been."

"Speaking of," Cole mumbles, pulling my phone out of his pocket and looking at it. "Quinn's calling."

"He probably saw a video somewhere of this whole mess," Jack grumbles, looking as annoyed as i feel.

I can't help but glance to the people across from us. I need to take this call, but I don't want to leave this conversation here.

"Do one of you have a phone on you?" I ask, looking between them all. Max and Lando are in their race suits, but Kelly starts digging in her bag, pulling out her phone and handing it over with a smile.

"Here's my number, and we'll be in Aston Martin the rest of the day and then we'll be in Mclaren tomorrow. I'd like to chat about all of this," I offer, looking to Max as I hand Kelly her phone back, taking my own from Cole and pressing answer on Quinn's third call in the last five minutes.

"Quinn, do not get on that plane."

And she walks away, phone to her ear as she talks down her older brother and Cole runs after her, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her from wandering again.

"You should use that," Jack supplies after a moment of silence. "She's a little quirky, but it's worth it. You can't get luckier in the sister department than having Em in your life."

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Is it me or was it kind of disappointing that almost every woman in GK had "love" be a part (or central) to their character plot? Either involved in some unnecessary love triangle, object of desire or open crush/relationship with someone.

It's more a staple of the genre.

Goldern Kamuy is a seinen, a manga targeted to Japanese male adults. When this was pointed out in Japan as a 'flaw' of the genre, the males who got interviewed more or less said they weren't interested in having women in the story that weren't there for the male characters' benefits (aka mothers, sisters, wives, fiances, love interests and so on or, at best, very minor supporting roles for the male characters).

Noda was notably one of the few mangakas who had a large and diverse female cast... even though at the end said female cast continued to exist more to support the male cast than themselves which I discussed largely in my complains about the ending of GK.

So yeah, the way seinen tend to handle females is VERY disappointing but as long as the target audience doesn't want to change, it's unlikely something will be done and for a better handling of female characters you've to go for manga targeted at females (Shojo and/or Josei).

However, since interviews about this were done and since some manga are definitely doing better than in the past it's possible that slowly things will change.

Ironically, even if the target audience is males, it seems seinen (and shonen) have many Japanese female readers (while Shojo/Josei hardly have male readers except some notable exceptions).

If Japanese female readers show discontentment, things might change. We'll see.

[g3tinl0ser]

dont know a name for this one ethier. its a Reader x her own harem x Tengen too. idk how its gonna play out we shall see. lets go.

Everyone knew the Uzui family practiced polygamy. At 15, Tengen's father was supposed to choose three wives for him. Suma, bless her heart, stepped up and volunteered. She loved Tengen. She crashed through the door and made a scene during her sister's interview. She knew he would belong to others and others would belong to him, but she wanted this. Makio and Hinatsuru became Tengen's wives too, and Tengen became theirs. It was public knowledge.

What wasn’t public knowledge, however, was that another family also practiced polygamy—though not in the same way. In your family, the harem was centered around the women rather than the man, and there was no set number of spouses. You had five fathers, even if only one was biologically yours. All of them loved and raised you, spoiling you beyond belief. Despite that, you weren’t stuck-up or snotty. You trained hard, knowing that this unique family structure was deeply tied to the Demon Slayer Corps. Your mother was a Hashira, and you were preparing to take her place after your first marriage.

That marriage was the only one arranged, though it didn’t feel forced—you had met your soon-to-be husband many times. He was already a Hashira. At first, Sanemi was beyond rude, throwing a fit over the deal his despicable father had arranged. But with all your fathers and two brothers standing behind you, his protests only went so far. Once Sanemi realized there was no way out, he begrudgingly admitted it could have been worse.

You were strong and capable, holding your own against him without breaking a sweat. He knew you would have others to love and protect you when he wasn’t there. Still, he made one request: to have time with you alone and to ensure that none of your other husbands would be part of the Corps. While you couldn’t promise the latter, you assured him that at least one wouldn’t be.

Sanemi would train your future husbands to fight like they were in the Corps themselves. He needed to know that if he wasn’t home, the others could protect you and any children you might have. Over time, he started taking you on missions, bringing you along to trainings and dinners with the Master. Each time, others were shocked to see him soften more and more.

It wasn’t an easy journey—it took a lot of time—but Sanemi’s feelings for you grew. He finally understood jealousy when Tengen's gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long. That fleeting moment taught him what it meant to truly care about someone in a relationship.

After returning from a grueling three-month mission, Sanemi was exhausted, but the moment his eyes landed on you, that familiar sense of warmth and peace flooded his chest. He had missed you more than he cared to admit. You were standing beside a tall, lean man with dark, tousled hair and striking green eyes—your newest husband, Daiki.

At 22, Daiki was older than Sanemi, but there was something about him that made Sanemi’s gut twist with a mix of wariness and intrigue. The man’s smile as he greeted you told Sanemi everything he needed to know: Daiki loved you, and that made him both protective and uneasy.

"Sanemi, this is Daiki," you introduced, the joy in your voice unmistakable. "He owns the restaurant down the street and is the head chef. He’s been waiting for you to come home so he could finally meet you."

Sanemi couldn’t suppress the scowl that tugged at his lips. Another husband? He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. He had just gotten used to the idea of having you. This was hard to swallow.

"Nice to meet you," Daiki said, extending his hand with a friendly smile. His voice was warm, and his demeanor was unassuming. He was a stark contrast to the sharpness of Sanemi, but there was no denying that Daiki was genuine in his excitement to be here, in your life.

Sanemi shook his hand, his grip firm. "You’ve been taking care of her, then?" He didn’t mean it as a challenge, though it came out that way, sharper than he intended.

Daiki’s smile never wavered, though he did blink in surprise at the tone. "I’m doing my best. I run the restaurant, so I’ve been able to stay home more often. I’ve always wanted to be the one to take care of things at home. Cooking, cleaning, all of it. I like to think I make a good homemaker."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow at that. A homemaker? He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The man’s life was already set in his own hands, and he wasn’t sure what to make of someone who seemed so content to remain behind the scenes while others went out to fight and defend.

But there was something in the way Daiki spoke about you that made Sanemi pause. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his voice cracked slightly with excitement as he talked about his plans for the home—it was clear that this man loved you deeply, and his devotion was evident.

Sanemi’s jaw tightened as he studied Daiki, but part of him couldn't deny that there was sincerity in the younger man’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to share you, but he had to admit, Daiki was trying. And as much as it grated on his pride, that mattered.

"You’ll have to prove you’re worth it," Sanemi said, his tone still guarded but not as harsh as it might have been before.

Daiki just nodded, unfazed, a slight chuckle escaping him. "I’m ready to do whatever it takes."

You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy—sharing your love with so many people, especially someone as intense as Sanemi—but you also knew this was what you wanted. And Daiki, with his quiet confidence and love for you, was a part of this journey.

Sanemi wasn’t sure what to think of Daiki yet, but one thing was clear: as much as he didn’t want to share, the man loved you. Sanemi huffed, clearly not pleased, and without another word, he turned sharply on his heel, striding off toward your shared room. His footsteps were heavy, the frustration simmering beneath his cool exterior. 

You watched him go, feeling the tension in the air like a crackling storm about to burst.

Sighing, you turned back to Daiki, whose smile had faded into a quiet understanding. He didn’t say anything right away, but you could see the way his brows furrowed slightly, concern flickering in his eyes.

"You okay?" Daiki asked, his voice soft, like he didn’t want to overstep but needed to check on you.

You nodded, forcing a smile to reassure him. "Yeah, just give him some time. He... he’s not exactly used to sharing, but he’ll come around."

"I figured as much," Daiki said, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I’m used to dealing with strong personalities. It’s just... I wanted to make a good first impression."

You stepped forward and, without hesitation, pressed a gentle kiss to Daiki’s lips. His surprise melted into warmth as he kissed you back, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. "Thank you for understanding," you murmured against his lips. "I know Sanemi can be a lot to handle sometimes."

"I don’t mind," Daiki replied, pulling back just slightly to meet your gaze. "I’m happy to give him space. I know you care about him, and I’ll do whatever it takes to fit into this... family."

You smiled again, this time genuinely. "You’re doing fine," you said, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. "Just give him time. He’ll come around. He just needs to figure things out on his own."

Daiki nodded, though you could see the slight tension in his posture, like he was holding back his own frustrations. "If he needs time, then I’ll give it to him. I just want you to be happy, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re taken care of."

Your heart warmed at his words, and you placed a hand over his, squeezing it gently. "I know you will. Thank you."

With a final, reassuring smile, you turned toward the hallway, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air. You made your way toward your room, hoping that when Sanemi had a chance to decompress, he would calm down enough to see that things were changing, and he had to make room for others in your life.

You quietly entered your shared room, finding the door to the adjoining bath slightly ajar. The faint steam rising from the water hinted at Sanemi already being inside. You hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open fully, your heart beating a little faster. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him in a vulnerable state before, but tonight felt different.

Sanemi sat in the large wooden tub, his back turned to you, the water barely rippling as he leaned back. He didn’t seem to notice your presence at first, lost in his own thoughts. His broad shoulders were tense, his normally sharp expression softened with exhaustion. The sight tugged at your heart.

"I missed you," you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, though you knew he’d hear it.

Sanemi’s shoulders stiffened for a brief moment before he sighed and turned his head just slightly, enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes softened as they met yours. "I missed you too," he muttered, his voice rough from both fatigue and the strain of the day’s emotions.

You stepped closer, taking a deep breath before crouching beside the tub, your fingers brushing lightly against his shoulder. "I know it’s a lot... with Daiki and everything," you said carefully, the words slow and measured. "I just need you to know... I’m here with you. You’re not losing me."

Sanemi let out a quiet snort, leaning his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closing. "I don’t know what’s harder—being away from you for months, or coming back to all of this... this new thing. I don’t know how to share you."

You gently cupped his jaw, tilting his face toward you so you could meet his eyes. "I’m not asking you to share me in the way you think. I want us all to have a place, but you will always have YOUR place in my heart."

Sanemi’s gaze softened, the hardened edge in his eyes dulling as his lips curled into a small, tired smile. He leaned forward just enough to press his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I don’t like it," he murmured, "but I’ll try... for you."

You kissed him then—soft and slow, your lips just grazing his at first. The warmth between you both settled in, like the comfort of home. His hand reached up to gently cup your face, holding you there as the kiss deepened, and you could feel his tension slowly begin to melt away.

Breaking away for a breath, you smiled at him, your fingers trailing down his chest gently. "I’m glad you’re trying," you said, your voice hushed, as if the moment was too fragile to disturb. "I need you to know... it’s not easy for me either. I’m scared of messing this up."

Sanemi’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening even more. "I don’t want to lose you," he said, his voice barely audible.

"You won’t," you reassured him, leaning in to place a kiss on his temple, your fingers slowly running through his damp hair. "I love you, Sanemi. And no matter how complicated things get, that won’t change."

He closed his eyes at your words, letting the warmth of your touch and the soft kisses you planted on his skin soothe his worries. "I’ll do my best," he murmured. "I’m not perfect... but for you, I’ll try."

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your lips pressing against his in a promise, a vow. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You just needed him to be there, and in that moment, he was. And that was enough.

After a few more quiet moments, you pulled away from Sanemi gently, placing a soft kiss on his cheek before standing up. "Why don’t you head out to the kitchen? I’ll clean up the bath for us," you suggested, your voice light, though there was a hint of amusement in it. You could tell he was still processing everything, but you hoped that a little space would help him ease into things.

Sanemi shot you a skeptical look but nodded, standing up and stretching. "Fine, but you better not be cleaning up after dinner."

You grinned at him, rolling your eyes playfully. "Don’t worry" you said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

As Sanemi made his way to the kitchen, you set to work tidying the bathroom, washing the remaining soap suds from the tub and hanging up the towels. The sound of the water draining from the tub was almost soothing, and by the time you were done, the room felt calm and refreshed. You took a deep breath, hoping the evening would go smoothly.

When you finally stepped into the kitchen, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Sanemi had just entered, looking slightly out of place as he stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Daiki had turned the small kitchen into an impressive spread, with a large Okonomiyaki grill set up in the middle of the table. Plates, bowls, and ingredients were neatly arranged around the table, ready for cooking. The sizzling sounds of the grill mixed with the rich, savory scent that filled the room, making Sanemi’s stomach growl before he even had a chance to say anything.

Daiki, clearly proud of his work, grinned and gave Sanemi a quick glance. "I hope you're hungry," he chuckled. "I didn’t just stop at Okonomiyaki. I also made sushi and some ohagi since I heard they’re your favorites."

Sanemi blinked, taking in the spread, his jaw slightly dropping at the sheer amount of food on the table. He wasn’t one to show much emotion outwardly, but the surprise was clear on his face. "You... made all of this?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You’re going all out for me?"

Daiki laughed, a warm and inviting sound that made Sanemi’s initial wariness start to fade. "Well, you’re family, right? So I figured I’d go all out and make sure you feel welcome." He gave Sanemi a playful wink before adding, "Besides, I remember you’re a man who appreciates a good meal."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow, still a little skeptical but slowly starting to relax. "I’ll take your word for it. But if this doesn't live up to the hype, I'm holding you to it," he said with a teasing grin, his usual edge returning.

Daiki just chuckled again, clearly unfazed. "Don’t worry. I’m confident you’ll enjoy it." He gestured for Sanemi to take a seat. "Sit, sit! There’s plenty more where that came from."

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the two of them—Daiki, so cheerful and accommodating, and Sanemi, who was still processing all the changes but clearly appreciating the effort. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but seeing them interact like this made you believe things might just work out after all.

Sanemi sat down, his eyes lingering on the spread for a moment longer, before he looked at Daiki with a small, grudging smile. "You’ve got some guts... I’ll give you that." He gave a low chuckle, and for the first time in a while, the tension in the air seemed to lift, even if just a little.

A YEAR LATER

It was a perfect spring afternoon, the kind where the sky was clear, the breeze gentle, and the cherry blossoms bloomed in a riot of pink and white, scattering delicate petals with every gust of wind. The festival was in full swing, with food stalls lining the streets and families gathered under the trees, enjoying the fleeting beauty of the season. You, Sanemi, and Daiki were among them, though your trio was far from a typical sight.

The three of you wandered through the festival, a mix of familiarity and comfort surrounding you. It had been a year since Daiki had entered your life, and in that time, things had changed—for all of you. There were still moments of tension, of course. Sanemi’s protective instincts still flared up occasionally, and Daiki’s laid-back nature sometimes clashed with Sanemi’s more intense personality. But what had once felt like an tense situation had grown into something far deeper: an unspoken understanding and a bond that was undeniable.

Sanemi walked slightly ahead, his broad shoulders stiff as usual, but there was a softness in his eyes when he glanced at you. He wasn’t the same man you had met a year ago. There was a comfort between you now, a quiet understanding that no matter what, you were his. And he was yours.

Beside you, Daiki grinned, adjusting the basket he was carrying with a few treats he’d picked up from a nearby stall. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice light and teasing. "I’m thinking about entering the food competition next year. You’ve gotta taste my takoyaki, it’s unbeatable."

You laughed softly, leaning into him just slightly. "As long as you promise not to steal all the spotlight," you teased, earning a chuckle from him.

Sanemi glanced over his shoulder, his expression neutral but his lips twitching in a small smile. "You two are ridiculous," he muttered, though there was no malice in his voice. It had become second nature to him by now, this easy camaraderie between him and Daiki. And though he would never admit it outright, he was beginning to appreciate the comfort it brought to your shared life.

It wasn’t perfect, but there was something undeniably beautiful about the way things had evolved. The way Daiki and Sanemi could share a laugh now, without tension or resentment, was a testament to how much they’d grown. They would never be best friends, and they certainly didn’t have much in common, but they had come to respect each other in a way neither had expected. Sanemi had his boundaries, of course, and Daiki had learned how to respect them without pushing. The two of them had found their rhythm, their balance.

"Let’s sit down for a bit," you suggested, pulling them toward a large tree where blankets were already spread out on the grass. You settled down, the soft petals drifting through the air around you as you all sat together. The atmosphere was warm, relaxed—content.

Daiki carefully unwrapped the snacks he’d brought, offering some to Sanemi first, then you. "I figured it’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal outdoors," he said, his voice casual. "This was supposed to be a picnic, not a competition."

Sanemi grunted but took the food, his pride never letting him back down from a challenge. "You’re lucky you know how to cook," he muttered as he took a bite, the food delicious in spite of himself. "But don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m still gonna hold you to that promise about next year."

Daiki raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, I’m counting on it."

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them. There were moments like this now—moments where you truly felt the ease and affection between you, a bond that had grown beyond the initial uncertainty. Neither of them had expected this, but you had always known there was potential for this kind of connection. For them to care for each other, in their own way. Even if they’d never be friends in the traditional sense, their bond was undeniable.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the festival, Sanemi leaned back against the tree, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling his warmth beside you. "Yeah," you whispered. "I’m more than okay."

Daiki leaned back on his hands, watching you both, his smile quiet but genuine. "It’s nice to see you two like this," he said softly, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "You’ve both come a long way."

Sanemi snorted, but it wasn’t the usual rough sound—it was something more affectionate, if slightly embarrassed. "I’m not gonna start getting all sentimental on you," he muttered, but his gaze softened as he looked at you. "I’ll just say... this isn’t exactly how I thought things would turn out. But I’m glad it did."

You smiled, reaching out to touch his hand, feeling the calloused warmth of his fingers entwining with yours. "Me too," you said simply.

And in that moment, as the cherry blossoms continued to fall softly around you, you knew—this wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. The three of you had come a long way, and though it was never going to be easy, this was home.

[amandaanddonnie]

Sister Wives Paedon Brown EXPOSES Family's SHADY MOVES

[emilieautumnarchives]

Enchanted Living Interview

Original Link Last Accessed: 1/12/2025

Gather Ye Rosebuds Day with Pre-Raphaelite Sisters Emilie Autumn and Veronica Varlow By Carolyn Turgeon

Photography: Steve Parke Photography Assistant: Tedd Henn Location: Cloisters Castle in Baltimore, Maryland Hair: Nikki Verdecchia of NV Salon Collective MUA: Autumn Shae of NV Salon Collective Clothing: Edye Sanford; Bullseye Clothiers; Emily Kramer Designs; Angela Gavin from Milk & Ice Vintage; Trinket’s Costume and Sundry; personal items from Emilie Autumn, Veronica Varlow, and Kim Cross Instruments: loaned by John DuRant Box on cover: Sue Rawley

I wish all of you could have been there last summer in Baltimore, when I whisked BFFs Emilie Autumn and Veronica Varlow in all their glittering fabulousness from their hotel to NV Salon in the neighborhood of Hampden, where they got glammed up thoroughly enough to embody the spirits of Victorian supermodels Elizabeth Siddal and Jane Morris in our sumptuous cover shoot. As said glamming took place, Emilie gave us all the “trashy beauty parlor gossip,” as she calls it now, about Lizzie and Jane, “which is, I’m sure, what it was at the time they were living.” She told us about the “open affairs”—that is, the “loads of drug use, burned suicide notes, exhumed poetry (and wives), and glorified overactive thyroid glands.” What better way to spend an August morning?

Of course, Emilie knows plenty about these ladies and their time period, which fuels so much of her own art. And by her art I mean her writing, including her novel, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, and of course her virtuoso violin playing, and the subjects she chooses to sing about—she has released four studio albums, including Opheliac (2006) and Fight Like a Girl (2012), and her worldwide concert tours have featured handmade Victorian-influenced costumes and elaborate, over-the-top stage shows including a troupe of corseted dancing girls, of which Varlow was one of the main attractions.

The shoot took place at Baltimore’s Cloisters Castle, where we lugged pots of roses, racks of clothing culled from various designers and vintage dealers, a few historical instruments, and a stack of inspiration photos I’d printed out the night before. While Emilie wasn’t Lizzie in every shot, and Veronica wasn’t only Jane Morris, they channeled those two superpowers while we scrambled to do as many shots as possible within a few hours, racing up and down those spiral stairs with pomegranates and apples, silver mirrors, old books of poetry, and an endless supply of scarves and dresses slung over our arms. The result is on these pages.

Below, we talk to Emilie more about all the above.

Enchanted Living: Can you tell us about your relationship with the 19th century? Why does this period resonate with you so much? Emilie Autumn: I’ve always felt that the 1800s are around Elizabethan or even 18th century portraits and think, This can’t possibly have been real—it’s like a fantasy world, or an alternate universe. But we can see ourselves in the Victorians. Certainly the fact that photography came into being during that time doesn’t hurt. But I think we can relate to that time of incredible social and political upheaval, technological invention, and, of course, industrial revolution, because it hasn’t stopped—we’re still in it, racing forward, hurtling onward and wondering what is going to become of it all. Essentially, the Western world became recognizable as the one we now inhabit, complete with the daring idea that we didn’t just hatch on the planet 6,000 years ago as fully developed humans.

So, if you’re a lover of history and a seeker of your roots, the 19th century is where you go to find yourself. If you’re an out-of-the-closet Anglophile like me—I’m full-blown British in my mind—who sincerely doesn’t understand why cravats can’t be an everyday thing, then it is Victorian England specifically. It’s close enough to identify with but far enough away to fantasize about. And that, I think, is precisely why it’s such a great world to tell stories in.

In my novel that really started the association between myself and  the Victorian era, the protagonist manifests an alter ego that lives in the Victorian world as a way to process what is going on in her own reality—a sort of therapy through escapism, something I’ve done since I was a child but taken to a literally psychotic extreme. And finally, I should say that it’s a fun world to play in if you have a wicked sensibility because there is a very dark underbelly to the corsets-and-tea-parties culture, as the novel illustrates—London was filthy, diseases were rampant, and women were considered subhuman and treated accordingly. There is little to glamorize, but that won’t stop us from trying and enjoying every minute of it.

EL: Why is this period relevant today? What overlaps do you see? EA: I suppose all periods are relevant if there is something still to be learned from them, and I do think there is much to learn, particularly from the areas in which we have not progressed nearly as far as we should have. My iPhone camera is amazing, but we are still a global patriarchy.

EL: Can you talk about this shoot? What did it mean to you? EA: I was truly honored to be asked to represent these iconic paintings. I have loved each of these works since childhood and modeled myself after them to a conspicuous degree for most of my teens and into my twenties. Lizzie Siddal is the reason I originally dyed my blonde hair red at sixteen, parted it in the middle, and proceeded to grow it down to my knees. I don’t believe that anyone who might know of me now is aware of that, so it’s fun to say out loud! This shoot was more than a fantasy come true, it was also a return to a more innocent version of myself, before the corsets and striped stockings and asylums, even if just for a day. It was good to see her again, and I think that a bit of her came back home with me. I am very grateful to Enchanted Living for that.

EL: Do you relate to the women of the Pre-Raphaelite movement? EA: What is so wild is that when I developed my Pre-Raphaelite obsession as a child, I had no inkling of the truly astonishing stories of these very real women—the world’s first supermodels, some have said—and what their particular kind of beauty meant. I didn’t know that they were very largely ill, extremely poor, and, in Lizzie’s case, fatally depressed. Having learned so much more about Lizzie since, I feel an overwhelming compassion for her. An artist and poet herself, she suffered horribly from mental illness, and it was either ignored or misunderstood to the point where she ended her earthly life at thirty-two. As the subject of mental health is such a dominating theme of most of my music and writing, the connection would be impossible to ignore, and I definitely tried to commune with her the day of our shoot. Not all of the paintings I was a part of re-creating were originally modeled by Lizzie, but she is the one I was channeling.

EL: You’ve written about poetic figures like the Lady of Shalott and Ophelia. What do they mean to you? EA: Well, the funny thing is that, in my song “Shalott” as well as “The Art of Suicide,” which of course alludes to Ophelia, though not by name, I was writing about Arthurian and Shakespearian characters respectively but was referencing the Victorian painted versions of them in particular. When I was much younger, my passions were medieval history and Shakespeare, and those are actually what drew me to the  Pre-Raphaelites in the first place—these Victorian men were painting the women I already loved. Isn’t that bizarre? I hadn’t even really put that all together until just now. I think that I was always drawn to the tragic stories when I was young because they reflected my own melancholy and mental issues but with flowery language and better hair. I saw myself in these characters—they were my pain beautified, and they gave me a gift, inspiring me to intentionally beautify what adversities would come to me as the years went on and life was lived. That is what I still do—it is the basis of my whole career, and it is also the best advice I can share with anyone struggling with anything. Find a way to turn this into art of any kind, because then it is transformed and nothing is wasted.

EL: Can you describe your relationship with Veronica and how you two worked together on your stage show? EA: The first time I met Veronica, I ran into her arms. We shared a Kit Kat bar and had a mutual vision of our past life where we had been married. (She was my husband and I was burned in a theatre fire, but that is another interview.) Veevers has taught me so much on stage and off, saved my life a few times, and has been a massive part of the best experiences of my entire recorded memory: singing and dancing together for thousands and thousands of beautiful people all over the world. I don’t even know where to go from there. There is love and then there is love. When I learned that we would be working on this ere both powerful muses and in the same tiny artistic circle but not exactly friends—for those who don’t know, Jane always had a thing for Lizzie’s husband, Rossetti, and after Lizzie killed herself, Jane finally got her man—I had this idea: What if some universal consciousness energy engineered this opportunity for these women to reconcile and to even become friends, knowing that they really were all in the same boat, in a really screwed up era, being told how to look and what to do (Get in this freezing bathtub, Lizzie!) just to eat. What if Veronica and I could offer these poor girls a little of our sisterhood? I hope they felt it. And I hope they’re friends. I bet they are.

EL: What does sisterhood mean to you? EA: Everything.

EL: What inspires you? EA: Theater. Watching people do things live and making an audience cry and plotting all the wicked ways in which I could do it. Sondheim lyrics. Watching people dance and thinking of how I could transform that movement into a sound and what instrument would it be. Backstage at Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Sequins. The squirrels in Central Park. Untold stories.

EL: How do you stay enchanted in your everyday life? EA: I do my very best to exist in the present moment, knowing that the present moment is all there is and all there will ever be. When you begin to grasp this truly, every moment becomes precious and valuable and has potential for magic, because you become very, very grateful. And when you become grateful for life, life becomes grateful for you. If you take in the truth that every moment you experience took 13.8 billion years to create, it’s almost impossible not to feel the magic in that. Also, I don’t go on social media unless I’m posting something positive and then I get right the hell off again, and I don’t use my cell phone as an excuse to not look around at the world I am actually in. Oh, and I promise myself to never fall into the trap of believing that what is on the news represents what is important in the world. It almost never does.

EL: Can you tell us what you’re working on now? EA: Yes! First, I’ve just gotten in the second printing of my oracle deck called The Asylum Oracle. It is a truly magical spiritual tool that I created to help people (and myself) connect with their own internal wisdom to gain truth and insight,  with an emphasis on healing and transformation. What I love most is that each of the fifty cards has a sort of meditation that goes with it, an invitation to really enter another world to bring back the wisdom you need in this one. The Oracle can be found at asylumemporium.com. And second, I am in New York developing the epic musical production of The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls. I’m in the midst of orchestrations, and I’m about to go write some oboe parts. The show will be glorious and terrifying and magical, and anyone who wants to follow along with the process and peek behind the scenes is invited to join me on Instagram, where I post loads of the music as it comes together and so much more! (@emilieautumnofficial) This musical is the culmination of everything I’ve done or created up to this point, and I am so excited to share it. It will also be a gift to all the Plague Rats and Inmates who have been with me for so many years and have known and loved the story of the Asylum and made it their own. This show is for them.

[writingsofwesteros]

King's Landing Daily- Wicked takes Westeros!

Daella Targaryen at the King's Landing Premiere of Wicked

The musical phenomena, Wicked, has taken over King's Landing, with the movie's premiere and theatrical debut breaking box office records and garnering high praise for its lead actors. Daella Targaryen since primarily known for her talent in the art of classical ballet, was a shock to most when she was cast as one of the female leads, Glinda the Good. Indeed, while there was never any doubt of her dancing abilities, her singing chops were called into question leading up to the film's release. But the youngest Targtower sibling has been studying performing arts since her days at the very exclusive, elusive private school Oldtown Girl's Prep. When she returned to King's Landing, she worked at a ballet studio while she obtained a degree in Performing Arts. As per her preference for a quiet life, she's stuck to performing at the ballet, and teaching classes to the children of Westeros's Elite, and so a foray into the film industry surprised many- but she hasn't been a disappointment, rather, her performance has left us all, including her harshest critics, struck silent. She attended the premiere with much of her family in tow, it seems that if it's one thing the Targaryens are going to do, it's show up for each other. Much like with the premiere of Baela Targaryen's film on Old Valyria, the family showed up in full force to support Daella. She arrived with her four siblings Aegon, Daenora, Helaena and Aemond, but walked the carpet alone so as to talk to press and greet fans, and take pictures with her cast members. Her mother, Alicent Hightower, attended with her spouses Rhaenyra and Daemon, and to the shock of many, the elusive Hightower patriarch, and Daella's grandfather Otto Hightower, attended with his wife Stevonna. Gwayne Hightower and his girlfriend Sienna arrived not long after them, the family speaking to few members of the press, all of them singing Daella's praises.

Alicent Hightower attending the Wicked Premiere

Alicent answered a few questions for us, and said, "I'm just attending tonight as a proud mother- exceedingly proud. I haven't even seen it yet but I already know it'll be amazing, that my girl will be amazing. She's so talented, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be tonight." She and her spouses didn't linger, Daemon ushering his wives inside quickly.

Helaena Targaryen, sporting her baby bump at the premiere.

Aegon Targaryen with his siblings

Aemond Targaryen making a rare red carpet appearance

Daenora Targaryen

The Targtower siblings graciously stopped and answered some questions, Daenora speaking for the four of them whilst Aegon and Aemond stood with a very pregnant Helaena Targaryen between them. "My sister's been working insanely hard for this, and we're so proud of her. She deserves her moment in the spotlight, for people to see how talented she is and how hard she's worked. I don't care about people who thinks she was wrong for this role, because the minute she opens her mouth to sing, I can say with certainty that those people are gonna shut up pretty quick." She told us. When we asked about Daella's two sons, Baelon and Aenar, and the other young Targtower children, Aegon told us that there'd be a private at-home screening for the kids to see, but Aemond cut our interview short when more questions were prodded about Helaena's latest pregnancy.

Rare public appearance of Gwayne Hightower, Daella's Uncle and Alicent Hightower's brother, CFO of Hightower Banking.

Otto Hightower, CEO of Hightower Banking, Daella's Grandfather, making an appearance to support his granddaughter, he had little comments to the press, except to say, "I'm already exceedingly proud of her."

OTTO MAKING HIS ENTRANCE I AM ON MY KNEES

Aegon looking as delicious as ever, that might be my favourite outfit of his !

Daella looking every inch like a Princess and so soft, you know she smells so good!

Alicent looking as sassy as ever; those doe eyes are just too much!

Helaena looks like a fairy! So sweet and soft, the children loved her dress thats for sure

[spurgie-cousin]

I do not understand the choice of TLC to keep lagging behind with Sister Wives. It would be so easy to speed up. I mean most of the episodes are old family pictures, the (ex) spouses bitching about each other en Kody talking absolute BS. We get it. Now come on and keep it recent. I mean 2 years!

Dude I know it's so bizarre, especially since most of the interviews are only a few months old.......iirc the episodes airing right now are from like, maybe early fall 2022 so almost exactly two years. It's so strange. Especially when soooooo much of the show is repetitive as hell like you said, like ok yea we get it: Kody's angry, Robyn's sad, Christine's never been happier, Janelle wouldn't care if Kody fell off of a cliff, and Meri cusses now. Cut to sad music while they show the same 10 old family pictures from the 90s.

My only good guess is that they're just milking it for all it's worth because it's one of their most successful shows right now. With their other cash cows like 90 Day Fiance, there are endless spin offs they can invent and an unlimited supply of cast members, so they can go 24/7, 365 with filming. But with the Browns, the have to focus on the same small number of people every time, and those people do need breaks when it comes to filming, so it feels like TLC is just doing whatever they can to make sure it goes on for as long as possible. Like even if the Browns quit tomorrow, they still have 2 years worth of footage and ad paychecks they can cash in on, y'know? That's the only thing I can think of, seeing as most of the family seems to always be down for filming.

[elenatria]

Hellooo! I finally watched Tetris a few days ago (after having it on my pc for a year and a half rip) and I loved it so freaking much you have no idea!!! So I decided to take a little trip here on tumblr because I thought there’s no way I’m the only one who noticed Taron and Nikita’s insane chemistry and I was in fact right because here you are! I know the movie was about the game but I genuinely feel like I watched a love story unfold right in front of my eyes because there’s literally no way those two weren’t madly in love by the end of the movie, I mean that hug??? Did Henk really have to close his eyes like that????

*big Soviamerican hug* 🙋‍♀️

LMAO it's like I'm listening to my sister-in-law aww'ing right after we finished watching Tetris (it was her first time watching it, mine was, um, the fifteenth..?). She was like "Awww look at them hugging, they're so in love, and Henk is even closing his eyes lol wut aww." And she's not even a shipper like me, go figure. 😆

Yeap, their chemistry was in-SANE, every scene of them together was, like, magic. You get a bit close to them and you can feel the heat, they make this New Cold War era we're living in feel even more colder when they're not around, know what I mean? Because their bond is so strong despite the difficulties and the hatred and mistrust between their nations. Like the Aespa song says, "We were built to be two enemies But somehow I know we're meant to be This world's a battlefield, I will be your shield We got something real, worth disrupting the peace"

Oh it was totally a love story, there's no doubt about that. Me and @gavimp like to take excerpts from their actual interviews (not that we ship the real people) to fan the fire of our Alexenk fangirling, like this tiny audio of Pajitnov calling Rogers "My eternal partner". 💗

Madly in love indeed.

And to go back to your comment about Henk closing his eyes during the hug, there was a post here on tumblr back in the day saying how Taron has such WILD chemistry with each and every one of his male co-stars, it's crazy. Like, why did he have to close his eyes like that, courting, teasing and hugging Alexey in front of their wives? Because Taron. You know his character is in love because he wants to take Alexey out to dinner, he brings him flowers, he literally begs him to dance with him, he's super angsty when Alexey wants to cut ties with him, and he's so so so thirsty for that hug every time he sees him. Like, you guys get a room already.

[cellythefloshie]

;; All I Want Dedicated to @callsign-denmark for her birthday bingo

Summary: This year, to make it easy on her family, Claire is celebrating her birthday in Raleigh. She would prefer a more private event, something just for family, but when your brother was the Captain of an NHL team: family extended to a roster of 21 she barely knew - including goaltender Frederick Andersen. M's Bingo Card Tropes: Whirl-wind romance, Captain’s sister, FreeSpace - children/babies (Claire's nieces and nephews), “Let’s celebrate tonight”, “please stay”, Summer Birthday Kinks & TW: age gap, love at first sight, soulmates, in public (briefly), thigh riding, alcohol consumption (no mentions of intoxication), sundress season, virginity/first time, size kink/height difference (5'2 & 6'4), vaginal fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (are we even going to pretend to be surprised by this?), implied heels kink, pet name: flower. Original Character: Claire is the baby sister of the Staal family. Face Claim: Dove Cameron. Word Count: 8.6k+ A/N: Happy birthday girlie! I hope that this little (ha) story I've put together for you fulfils your birthday bingo dreams and more! Also, damn you! The sinful things I thought about this man while writing this. There is no going back after this one. And full disclosure this was based solely on like 1 interview I watched and a handful of pictures on the internet because I know next to nothing about Freddie BUT I like to think I did a pretty damn good job with him. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to celebrate your day with you! 🎉

Playlist.

Claire didn’t like big birthday parties, but when you were a Staal you didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. Her parents were always in attendance, then came her four older brothers, and with them their wives, and their children. You would think that it would have stopped there, but when your brothers all played in the NHL - and when one happened to be the Captain of the team in the very city she was holding her little get-together - players or two were bound to show up as family. Claire didn’t mind all that much, she liked the guys Jordan played with and it always made for an entertaining night - even if that meant feeling like a bystander at her own birthday party. 

Without knowing for sure just how many people would show up, her parents had taken the opportunity to reserve a private patio as her restaurant of choice - and it made Claire all the more sound with her choice to wear the light and flowy blue sundress patterned with daisies. It had been a dress she had been looking for an excuse to wear. The skirt of the dress stopped just above her knees, and the bodice was fitted to show her figure without being too heavy on her skin. The Carolina heat would weigh on her enough throughout the evening, she didn’t need an uncomfortable outfit to ruin her night. Instead, she would leave that to her shoes. 

Claire was small. Standing merely 5’2, she had been dwarfed by every single one of her brothers who stood at 6’4. The moment she had stopped growing, she had committed to a lifetime of being someone who had to wear heels. She wore them wherever she needed them, no matter how uncomfortable or impractical they may be, and had mastered the art of walking and running in them. Which was already coming in handy as the night was young as she was chasing around her all too energetic nieces and nephews. 

For the most part, the 12 children, varying in ages, could entertain themselves - or were glued to the hips of their mothers as they were too young or too shy to venture out onto the open patio space around the table. But Claire, she had a reputation to uphold. As the youngest child, who was proudly single, she was the embodiment of the Fun Aunt. She spoiled them with gifts and wasn’t one to shy away from being a little too rambunctious - even if that meant drawing a little too much attention as everyone arrived. 

“Look who we have here,” the voice had Claire perking up from where her nieces and nephews came at her in an onslaught of affection, demanding to be picked up and swung around or carried on her back, “an overgrown child.”

The playful jab had her beaming, a smile bright as a ray of sunshine as her eyes fell on the culprit, “Brady!”

Skjei had only been on Carolina for a few seasons, but with his history playing with the Rangers alongside her brother Marc, he was a familiar face at family gatherings. “You made it,” she lowered one of the children back to the ground, giving the others a quick apology as she excused herself to greet the Carolina Hurricanes defenceman to her party. 

“Of course,” he smiled, his arms opening wide to welcome Claire into his embrace, “biggest bash of the off-season, when have I ever missed it?”

For a moment, she pondered in his arms. Lips pursed her head tilted from side to side. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she had a birthday without him being there. Marc had invited him all the way back in Skjei’s rookie season when it had been her sweet sixteen. She had a schoolgirl crush on him back then, but now she couldn’t look at him without seeing more than another brother. 

“Never, ever,” she decided after a moment and stepped back from his hold, “so what did you get me?”

Brady scoffed as if she had offended him, “You mean I’m not enough?” Claire shook her head slowly, bouncing her feet with anticipation as she held her hands behind her back. She looked misleadingly sweet, and innocent when in reality she was far from it. “Alright, alright, you got me. Mom took it from me when I got in. You’ll know it’s from me when you open it.” 

“Oh, so it’s a good one,” Claire laughed.

“They always are, aren’t they?”

“Of course,” she pushed his chest playfully before leaning off to the side to look around him, “didn’t drag the team along with you this time?”

“Not many of the guys back in town yet,” he hummed, looked back over his shoulder to where the brothers had gathered, “just Derek and Freddie-”

Claire perked up, “who?”

She knew who, well kind of. Frederick Andersen had been the team’s primary goaltender - except when his injuries had plagued the season - since was signed back in 2021. And while it had been years since that initial contract, she had yet to meet him. Which was a damn shame, because from what she could tell he was gorgeous. 

“You haven’t met Freddie?” Brady raised a brow, his arm around to cradle your back as you both turned in place to try to find him in the crowd. Which wasn’t all that difficult when he towered as tall as her brothers. Her eyes settled on him as he stood by the table with her brother Jordan, and glass in his hand as the two of them shared conversation. Just the sight of the towering Danish goaltender left her stomach aflutter with butterflies. He really was gorgeous with his strawberry blonde hair that was slicked back like James Dean and a smile that left her weak in the knees. 

“Com’on then, let’s go meet him,” Brady’s words were a mere echo in her mind as he pressed against her lower back to ease her into her stride.

She followed his guidance carefully, her every stride bringing her closer to Freddie, and giving her eyes something more to admire. First, she noticed the stubble that framed those lips that she was sure could talk her into anything. Then, was how his t-shirt hung off the strength of his shoulders peaked at his chest before hanging loose around his west. Her eyes travelled down over his hips and she had half the mind to stop there but then she saw her thighs. Claire was left near salivating that how they tested the elasticity of his denim jeans. She had no doubt that they were thick - strong and it only left her wishing he had been wearing shorts just so she could indulge in the sight of them. To see how they flexed when he walked, or how they would spread over his seat as he sat-

“Earth to Claire!” Her mind had been lost, her gaze up on the watercolour skies as her mind wondered only for Jordan’s humoured tone to cut through and end any sinful thought that threatened to overtake her. “You alright there kiddo?”

Claire wrinkled her nose, at the nickname. She was very much a grown woman now, and it was still a nickname she could shake thanks to being the baby of the family. Yet, she didn’t fight him on it and instead spoke out in a soft, apologetic hum, “I’m sorry, I must have just gotten distracted. The sky is just beautiful right now, isn’t it.”

“She is,” the unfamiliar voice left her head snapping in its direction. The two, simple words had slipped from Freddie’s lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had heard them right. Surely, her mind was playing tricks on her and he had said it and not she. Right?

“What was that?” she cocked her head at him, her bright blue eyes raising to meet the sweet chocolate hue of his stare for the first time. Claire had only meant to indulge herself in a quick glance, but the moment her eyes found his her stare was locked for his gaze was down on her as well. The air around her seemed to be lost, her lungs suffocating on the mere presence of him as she waited for even a single word to leave his perfect lips. 

Claire watched as his smile waivered on his lips, curling from a small smirk to a wider grin before settling back into that smug smirk again. She knew in an instant that he wasn’t going to get the answer she was looking for. Instead, she was met by the reach of his large hand, and let his lips part in a simple introduction, “Freddie.”

Her brows were drawn together at the offer - a handshake, really? What was this? A business meeting? Yet, she humoured him, her hand left feeling dainty as it was consumed by his touch. It engulfed her like the overwhelming embrace of an ocean wave. Lungs struggled to take even a single breath as the warmth of his touch consumed every inch of her body. Then, she was lost in his gaze, drawing in every bit of his attention and drowning in it.  Claire held his hand for too long, she knew it and she was sure her brother had noticed too, and yet her touch on his hand remained as she finally manages a slow and steady breath before saying nothing more than her own name.  

“The birthday girl,” Freddie hummed out, and her stomach fluttered. 

Something told Claire that he could call her anything and she would be left swooning. 

“That’s right,” Claire hummed her fingers still lingering on his, failing to let go of his hand, “and I think that means you have to get me a drink.”

Claire hadn’t meant to be so flirtatious with her words, especially not with her brother and Brady standing right there. Yet it left her lips so shamelessly, and her boldness hasn’t failed her. 

Gripping her fingers between his own, Freddie drew her in just close enough to wrap her arm around his so that she held onto the breadth of his forearm so he could guide her off to the bar - leaving Jordan and Brady behind them before either could interject. Her delicate fingers gripped gently at his strength, her heart both dreading having to let go of him and racing at just how he felt between her touch. Touching him felt like the first sip of water after days of needing to drink. It was unlike anything Claire had ever felt from something so simple and it left her breathless as she came to the bar. 

His words were an echo in her mind as he ordered his drink, and then his gaze came down on her again, patiently waiting for her to tell him just what she liked to drink. 

“Paloma, please,” she muttered sweetly, her hand still on his arm as she looked only to him with little acknowledgement to the bartender. 

And when their order was made, and they were left to stand and wait patiently at the bar, Freddie turned so that he was facing her fully and his towering frame leaned up against the bar. The casual tilt brought him a little closer to her level, giving her a good look at the smirk on his lips and the glimmer in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke and just stared. Claire with undoubtedly smitten with him - and maybe if she believed in love at first sight, this would be it. Because the way he stared at her with those sweet brown eyes of his had her convinced that he was feeling it all too. 

“So, birthday girl,” Freddie finally hummed as his frosted glass of amber liquor was placed down in front of him and alongside it the grapefruit garnish contrasted it with its femininity, “what are we drinking to?”

Her hand reached out, tracking hold of the glass before raising it between them, “To my brother for having such generous teammates.”

Freddie chuckled lowly, his large hand wrapping around his glass before he raised it between them. Together they took a shallow sip, their eyes locked. It was almost enough to make her choke, but she managed a slow breath and maintained her composure. 

“Now, hard question,” Claire hummed, taking a small step in, “How’d I get so lucky to have you as a guest at my party?”

She watched as his smile grew as he stole another sip of his drink, “contract negotiations,” he answered simply. 

“I think that means we will have to toast to Don as well.”

“We can save that one for when I sign.”

“Which means I’ll need your phone number,” she bit her tongue as she realized what she had just so blatantly done. She could feel her cheeks flush with colour, her heart thundering with regret. Claire knew better than to hit on her brother’s teammates. For their sanity and her own - and the safety of the poor player who even wanted to take the risk of toying with her heart. Yet, she persisted, “You know, so we can celebrate.”

Placing his glass down, Freddie dipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone before it joined his drink in the bar. His silent question asked Claire to put her number in his phone. 

Claire glanced to the side, across the patio to where her brothers were talking with Derek and Brady. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Placing her drink down, she took his phone in both hands and typed in her name and number before hanging it back to him. Claire had expected him to tuck the phone away but took the time to text her quickly. Sending her phone into a dreamy chime with the notification. It was a sound she had come to hate, but now it excited her. 

“You think I gave you a fake number?” She teased him gently. 

“No, no,” Freddie chuckled, his head shaking slowly, “not at all, I-”

His words were broken by the clamour of children’s footsteps as her nieces and nephews stormed the table for dinner. “I think that our queue,” Claire’s words were a half sigh as she drew her hand back from his forearm. The moment she released him from her gentle touch it was as if she were a battery that had been charged but her current was beginning to fade. It was a feeling unlike any other she had felt before, and her gaze on him lingered for a moment as she wondered if he felt it too. 

Managing a smile she stepped back and fell into stride towards the table, leaving Freddie at the bar behind her. Her lips moved in a silent What the fuck? as her mind couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened, and what she had just let herself do. She carried her Paloma in one hand, while the other reached up to push her blonde hair from her face. It stayed there, her fingers knotted in her hair at the crown of her head as she moved to sit at the head of the table. 

Seat by seat the table was filled until a single seat was left to be taken at her side, and one person remained standing. Claire held her breath as the patio chair was dragged against the ground and filled by Freddie who had come to the table with a fresh drink for them both. He placed it down in front of her without a thought or a look in her direction, leaving her jaw slacked in disbelief - but she was quick to press her lips firm together when she noticed her nephew mimicking her as he sat opposite to Freddie. 

Claire’s lips curled up into a smile as her nephew grinned at the realization that he had been caught. “You gotta be on your best behaviour mister,” she told her nephew, leaning in to smile at him, but it only made him laugh. While it was her birthday she got stuck sitting at the kid’s end of the table. If the kid was old enough to eat without the help of their parents they were exiled to her end of the table, which often featured at least one of her brother’s wives, but tonight the Carolina goaltender had filled their place. 

“I’m not joking,” Claire claimed, and it only had her nephew grinning a troublemaker’s grin, “we got a guest with us, Mr. Andersen. You don’t want to scare him away do you?”

Holy fuck. She thought. Mr. Andersen. It felt so weird, yet so good on her tongue and it left her head spiralling as she helped her nephew with his menu. Freddie Andersen. Frederick Andersen. Mrs. Frederick Andersen. The thought left her feeling giddy as the name echoed in her mind as if she were a schoolgirl scrawling his name across her notebook. That’s what this had to be, a schoolgirl crush of an infatuation. It was the only explanation for it all. 

With that thought, she tried to put all she had felt for him that evening behind her. To forget the anomaly that was her intense pull to him - but there was no ignoring him as he sat right beside her with the spread of his legs just enough to graze against her leg beneath the table. There was no ignoring how easy the casual conversation came between them, or just how good he was with her nieces and nephews when their antics carried out throughout the dinner service. Freddie fit in so effortlessly, so flawlessly that it was as if he had been there the whole time. That fact left Claire dreading having to say goodbye. 

It was a heavy weight in her stomach as she stood at the door of the restaurant, thanking her family and friends for coming. Her nieces and nephews were the first to accept their hugs, sad that they had to say goodbye to their Auntie Claire, but they were tired and didn’t put up much of a fight when they were told to get in the car. The crowd thinned and soon she was left with her parents, and with Freddie who lingered back by the door. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she told her parents she wanted to take a walk before heading back to the hotel. To go on without her, and when they left her she stood alone with a single gift bag in her hand. Then, she looked straight at Freddie. 

“Did you think I was going to let you run off before I got to say goodbye?” Claire called out to him, her casual stride carrying him toward him. 

He met her halfway, a smile on his lips, “quite the opposite, actually.”

Claire beamed. He had been waiting to catch her alone. 

“Let's celebrate tonight, just the two of us?” Claire asked him slowly, her hand dipping into the bag to brandish a bottle of Canadian whiskey that Brady had given her for her birthday. 

His eyes seemed to flicker with the light of a flame as his hand dinner into the pocket of his trousers. Drawing out his keys he held them up for her to see, “Where do you want to go?”

“I have a room at the Residence Inn,” Claire told him, with a smile and let him lead the way to his car. 

Upon arriving at the hotel, and with his car taken care of by the valet, Claire lead him through the hotel but did not go up to her room. The night was too beautiful to waste it in bed, and it would have been much too forward - though she wouldn’t have complained if that was all Freddie had wanted from her - instead, she lead him out to the darkened patio. It was closed, but she slipped beneath the half-assed barricade and crawled up onto one of the loungers in the corner just out of sight of the security camera she was sure hadn’t worked in the first place. 

Chuckling, Freddie followed her lead - much more gracefully than she had expected - and sprawled out on the lounger across from her. The seat was too short for him, his foot handing off the end even as he was seated up at an angle. Claire could help but stare as he sat there, his auburn hair hanging down over his forehead and his clothes so relaxed on his frame. So effortlessly handsome, she admired him as she reached into her gift bag and grew out the bottle. Manicured fingers picked at the plastic that sealed the bottle, and she let it fall to the ground before twisting the cap free. She took the first, long sip and let the whiskey burn its way through her body before holding it out for Freddie to take. 

His large hand wrapped around the neck of the body, his fingers grazing over the skin of her hand for a moment before she could pull back. Claire could still feel the ghost of his touch as she lay back and stared up at the sky. Just beyond an awning, and around the sun umbrella they had forgotten to close when their service had come to an eye, the night sky was filled with the glimmer of stars. They were faint, drowned out by the city light, but she could see them there. She watched as they sparkled, her eyes trying to planets from stars from satellites as the two of them passed the bottle back a forth. Sipping it from occasion before it was forgotten on the ground between them and conversation prevailed. 

They spoke of their careers. They spoke of home, of family and friends. They talked about their hobbies, their similarities and their differences slowly becoming clear - and not once did her magnetic draw to him waiver. The more they talked, the more she knew, the more it grew. Claire wanted to be near him, to feel him, to know him for more than his mind and his soul but his body too. It was a craving, one that consumed her so fully it was almost debilitating as she pushed up from where she lay on the lounger. 

Reaching down, Claire pushed her heels from her feet with a single hand before her feet met the cold concrete. She stepped around the open bottle of whiskey and took two tip-toeing steps to reach where Freddie sat no more than an arm’s reach away. And he must have been watching her, waiting for her, as she was greeted with the slow embrace of his hands around her waist as she climbed onto the seat with him. 

His fingers wrinkled her dress, causing the flimsy fabric to rise around her thighs as he guided her up into his lap. Claire’s knees rested on each side of a single thigh, the soft fabric of his trousers brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as she seated herself down. She near shuddered as she felt his muscle flex between her legs, the thick quadricep pressing up against the thin fabric of her panties and the apex between her thighs. There she sat, her full lips parted in a breathy part as she reached out to trace her fingers over the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Claire craved to lean in, to steal that breath of air between them but she hesitated as her bright eyes were heavy and gazed over every angle of his face right down to the swell of his lip as he took the lower lobe between his teeth in restraint. 

“Freddie I,” she gasped out gently, “I don’t normally do anything like this…”

Claire wanted that to be clear. She wasn’t some temptress that made it her mission to sleep with her brother’s teammates nor was she someone who let a man steal more than a kiss on the first date. But with what she was feeling, she wanted to chase the highs of being in his company even if that meant breaking the unwritten rules of being the Captain’s baby sister. 

His head shook slowly, a small smile creeping up onto his lips as one of his hands left her waist to reach up. Freddie’s warm palm met her cheek carefully, his thumb stroking over her lips and feeling her every nervous breath.

“You and me both,” he finally said as his thumb dropped to her chin, “this is the exact opposite of what I should be doing if I want to be staying on the roster, but-”

“But?”

“I just can’t shake this feeling,” Freddie hummed, pushing up from the recliner to straighten up just enough that the tips of their nose graze. He didn’t have to say any more than that. She knew exactly what he was speaking to because she was feeling it too. “I would very much like to kiss you, Claire.”

“If you kiss me I might not be able to stop,” Claire cautioned, her gaze shifting down to the golden cross that hung from her neck. 

The Staal family was strong in their faith, and she had yet to truly give herself to any man. With all that she was feeling, her skin already ablaze with just the overwhelming thought of it all, Claire knew the risk that would come from just a single kiss from his lips. She needed him to know what this would mean to her if she left it spiral. She needed to know that he was willing to carry the heavy weight of being her first with him. 

His perfect lips parted in a breath of a curse as his thick fingers dragged down the angles of her neck. Freddie’s touch was featherlight, but it left a burning path in its wake as he reached her collarbone and the dainty necklace that hung from her neck. Two fingers stroked over the chain before taking hold of the small cross that was no bigger than the pad of his thumb. 

“Claire,” her name was almost a groan on his lips as he studied the cross with eyes that seemed to darken in the night, “you’ve never-”

She couldn’t answer, the embarrassment of it all in her throat. She had always thought she would have waited until marriage, but she had never wanted anyone more than she wanted him in that moment and she hadn’t even kissed him yet. Instead, all she could do was shake her head. 

“Fuck,” he cursed again, but it sounded more like a hymn now, “You’re going to get me into so much trouble, you know that?”

His hand splayed out, holding her gently around her throat after dropping the cross to rest just above her cleaved. With that hold, he drew Claire in, his mouth meeting hers in the kiss she had been craving from him all evening. Any suffocating feeling that had lingered after being void of his touch at dinner had been eliminated the moment his lips met hers. Freddie’s kiss breathed life into her unlike any kiss had before, and Claire felt whole. 

It had started out in a chaste drag of his lips over her own, firm and curious, but it ignited a spark that neither of them could ignore. It drew her in further, her lips parting to welcome the intensity of his kiss, and Claire was melting into him. The world around them was lost as Claire gripped his t-shirt in her fists, and with a single hand, Freddie was pulling her in so that she was flush against him. Freddie’s warmth radiated against her, consuming her as she let one leg fall over the edge of the lounger to ground himself. With one leg anchoring him, Claire could feel his hands travelling down over the subtle curves of her body. His palms stroked over the dip of her waist and down further still as he gripped at her hips. Fingers wrinkled her pale dress, inching its skirt up a little higher as he shifted her position on his thigh just right. And with the careful guidance of his hands, Freddie dragged her clothed cunt over the thick expanse of his thigh. 

The friction left Claire gasping against his lips as she kissed him. Her hands released his shirt, dropping the now wrinkled fabric, before reaching to gasp at the strength of his shoulders. With that hold, Claire anchored herself to him, and let her hips roll in his steady guidance. She could feel each flex of his thigh, and each tug of her panties as they caught on the fabric of his trousers. It pushed the fabric back and forth, forcing the structured hem one way or the other leaving it to tease the most sensitive parts of her and expose her delicate skin to the pleasure of his thigh. Each desperate roll of her hips was almost enough to leave her reeling, her legs threatening to tremble as her arousal seeped into his trousers and undoubtedly could be felt against his skin. 

“Freddie,” she mewled against his lips, his kiss dragging down across her jaw and coaxing a feeble moan before he pulled back just enough to look at her, “My room’s on the third floor.”

“Are you sure?” Freddie asked slowly, his large hand raising from her hip carefully and reaching out to stroke over her swollen lips. 

“I’m sure they won’t want us doing it out here on the patio,” when she spoke, her lips dragged against his fingertips - the mere touch of him sent a smile to blossom over her lips. 

“Yeah,” Freddie breathed out, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Standing up slowly, Claire ran her hands down over the skirt of her dress to smooth out each wrinkle before reaching down to collect the bottle. She cradled it in her hold and watched out of the corner of her eye as Freddie stood - towering - and awkwardly shifted his trouser with the hope to hide the stiffness of his cock as it tested the confined of his trousers. In the dark, it wasn’t all that noticeable, but in the light of the hotel room lobby, she was sure someone was bound to notice. 

“Here, take this,” Claire thought quickly as she reached for the gift bag and placed the bottle inside before handing it to him. It wasn’t a big bag, but maybe it would be enough of a distraction. 

Looking up from his half-untucked shirt and the leather belt buckle around his waist Freddie offered her a smile and a quick thanks before the two of them snuck off the patio and into the hotel lobby. It was so late in the night that not even the front desk clerk greeted them, making it a quick and easy walk to the elevator that would take them up. 

Claire stood on one side of the elevator, her thighs pressed firm together as her panties were still askew, and Freddie stood across from her with the gift bag strategically held in front of him and his eyes locked on her. Leaning her head back to rest against the wall of the elevator, Claire watched him in return, her mind racing faster than she could register a single clear thought - and before she could even try to fathom one, the elevator chimed as they reached the third floor. 

Quick strides carried her out into the hallway and only grew quicker as she left her own arousal dripping down the inside of her leg. Her strides stuttered as she came to the door, her fingers fumbling with the key card for a moment before she was pushing her way in through the door. 

Freddie was quick to come in right behind her, the warmth of his body against her back as he dropped the gift bag - and the bottle of whiskey - to the floor with a hollow thud leaving his hands free to take to her body. Hands splayed over the curves of her waist, drawing her back into him so she could feel the stiffness of his cock against her back. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, her head almost feeling dizzy as she felt him lean in just enough to mutter against her ear. 

“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” Freddie hummed, the rush of his words hot against the shell of her ear, “are you sure? Do you want me to be the first to fuck you, Claire?”

Claire could only nod, her lips slightly parted as she took a steady breath, her mind confused fully by how big he felt pressed up against him. Even while wearing her two-inch heels, Freddie towered a foot taller than her and was so big, so strong. He made her feel small, that at any moment he could pick her up and take her as he pleased and yet, he was taking his time with her. His touch was so cautious, so careful and tender. This wasn’t just going to be a quick fuck. She knew it, and with the way he was touching her - and the way they had been acting all night - he knew it too but neither of them could call it what it was. 

“I need you to say it, Claire,” Freddie prompted her again, his long arm reaching down the length of her body to tug up the skirt of her dress. He drew it up by the hand full, revealing every inch of skin along her thigh and bearing her panties to him. She could feel the vibration of his hum against her back, his two thick fingers dragging over the white lace hem that rested inches below her belly button. 

“Yes,” came the ghost of the word, “Yes, I’m sure.”

His two fingers dipped into the thin fabric, his fingertips dragging over her smooth flesh and did not stop until they came to rest over her clit. It seemed to sting with desperation, screaming for the pleasure that would come from the pleasure of his touch. Yet, all she could feel was the subtle accidental graze that came with the angling of her own hips. 

“Freddie,” his name was a gentle whine on her lips, her head turning to glance back at him. 

“Has a man ever touched you here?” he hummed into her hair as his finger pressed into her clit, a gentle pressure that almost left her teetering uneasily in her heels. 

“No,” she gasped simply, her petite body leaning back against his as her eyes shut. 

Freddie’s fingers stroked in slow, agonizing circles as he spoke again, “Have you ever touched yourself here, Flower?”

Her cheeks flushed red hot at the question, and her knees weak as the nickname was assigned to her by his tongue. Claire nodded slowly, her blonde hair becoming a mess between her head and his chest, and she held her breath as he dipped her fingers lower into the crotch of her panties. Blindly he fixed them just right, trapping his touch between the thin lace and the wet warmth of her cunt - then as his fingertips traced the slick entrance of her core, Claire took in a sharp inhale. 

“What about here, Flower?” Freddie breathed into her hair, each word hot as it was spoken. 

“No,” Claire’s lips quivered, “never.”

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he praised her gently, “waiting so patiently for me.” The cockiness in his tone left the corner of her lips curling as she leaned back into his strength. His free arm welcome her, wrapping so effortlessly around her waist to keep her firm to him as she gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “I’m going to take my time with you, Flower. Spoil you on your birthday, would you like that?”

Claire nodded. 

“Good, girl,” Freddie hummed as he slipped his hands from her panties and let the skirt of her sundress fall back down her legs, “lay down on the bed. Leave everything on for me.” 

She took careful strides as she moved for the bed, her legs left feeling weak from the mere absence of him and only found relief when she was crawling up into the comfort of the bed. Settling among the pillows, Claire bent one leg and she reached for the thin strap that fastened her heels around her ankle. 

“Ah, Ah,” Freddie tutted, “leave everything on for me, Flower.” 

Her fingers froze and eased back against the pillow as her eyes fell on him. Freddie still stood by the door, the glow of the hallway light streaming in and illuminating his silhouette in a halo of light. He had watched her crawl up to the bed without moving from his place, admiring her. It was only as she sat frozen by his words that he took casual, long strides, that carried him to the foot of the bed and tugged his t-shirt off his back and up over his head. Claire couldn’t stop herself from letting her eyes wander. Trailing up from the belt of his trousers where the waist of his boxers played peek-a-boo, and up and over the strength of his body. Her gaze didn’t stop until they had settled on his softened features, and how they were framed by what was now a mess of his hair. 

Her bright eyes fixated on the contrast of his darker as Freddie settled himself at the foot of the bed. It shifted under his weight as he crawled up just a bit high so that he knelt just between her feet. All the while holding her gaze, Freddie took hold of her gently by one of her ankles. He guided it up carefully, placing it on the strength of his shoulder, before turning his head just enough to kiss the inside of her ankle. The action, so sweet and tender, left Claire melting back into the pillows - and her arousal only continued to puddle as he kissed his way up. Up along the length of her calf, his hand guiding her leg up and over to rest along the stench of her back leaving the heel of her pump to drag over his flesh. Up around the curve of her knee was his large hand began to push up the skirt of her daisy sundress. Up over the delicate flesh of her inner thigh where his every breath left her core aching in the anticipation of feeling him.  

As he reached the apex of her thigh, she could feel Freddie hesitate, his hot breath flooding over the damp fabric of her panties. His every hot breath only primed her for the feeling of a single, thick finger dipping into her panties. Hooking it around the soaking fabric and drawing it down her legs so that she was rid of them fully and her glistening cunt was left bare for him. 

Claire could hear Freddie as he let out a steady hum, his hands leaving her dress to pool around her waist to explore the flesh that was exposed to him. A single palm rested over her pelvis, his warmth radiating over her as his thumb reached down to stroke slowly over her clit. It unearthed a desperate whine from her lips, one that was choked back into silence as she felt his fingers glide down over her lower lips and stroked around the entrance of her core. 

“Such a beautiful flower,” he spoke into the soft skin of her thigh, “so wet and ready to be fucked - but first, I’m going to make sure you can handle me. Get you nice and ready for me, so we’re going to start with just one finger, alright, Flower?”

“Yes, Freddie, please,” she pleaded with him, her hips wiggling with anticipation but his one hand kept her pinned firmly to the bed. 

“Patience, Flower,” he reminded her gently with another kiss to her thigh, “you’ll have all of me before the night is over.” His words were a promise as he stroked over her slick entrance one last time before easing the tip of his middle finger inside of her. 

Claire’s lips parted in a quiet gasp as she looked down over the curves of her own body to watch as Freddie worked between her legs. He watched looking up at her instead his eyes were focused on her cunt, at how well her core took his finger and left his skin glistening with her desire for him. The friction of his fingers alone was enough to send her head back to the pillows, her heart racing from every agonizing stroke. 

“So good, Flower,” Freddie praised her, “I’m going to use a second finger now.”

The pressure of the second finger left her biting down on her lower lip as her core stretched out to accommodate him. It was a burning pleasure, her legs weak as one remained draped over his shoulder with her heel digging into the muscle of his back. The pleasure sent her hands to the sheets, her hands gripping at the fabric until her knuckles were white - then came his praise and it only sent her head spinning further into her pleasure. 

“That’s it” he hummed, “you’re taking my fingers so well, Flower, and so pretty while you’re doing it too.” He kissed the inside of her thigh again, the pressure of the pleasure building like the raging storm inside her until he withdrew his fingers one final time and left her void before she would reach the peak of her pleasure. “Taking my fingers so well, I think you’re ready for my cock, Flower.” 

Claire's chest was weak with nerves as she pushed up onto her elbows to watch as Freddie eased her leg from his shoulder and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. She watched as he kicked off his shoes - his fingers that were once inside her now in his mouth as he did so - before his hands dropped to his pants where his erection had tented in his pants. There was nothing discrete about it now, and there would have been no hiding it behind a gift bag if they needed to now. She watched as his hands worked his belt free, and pushed his trousers down until he was left in nothing but his boxers. But not even those stayed on as he hooked his thumbs around the waistband and pushed them down to join his pants on the floor. He stood there bare to her, her eyes left to wander. 

From floor to ceiling and back down again, Claire’s lips were left agape at the sight of him. Freddie was big. From his height to his hands to his cock, there was nothing that failed to impress her about his size. Everything about him made her feel small, especially as he crawled back up the length of the bed until he was hovering over her with a single knee between her legs. 

“Let’s get that dress off of you,” Freddie hummed as he hovered over her, his hand coming down to her shoulder to push one of the straps down over her shoulder carefully. The gentle touch has her sitting up just enough for her hands to work on her dress. She couldn’t get it off her body fast enough, the zipper just out of her reach and left to Freddie’s gentle touch before Claire could discard the fabric on the floor and was left in nothing but her heels as she lay out on the bed beneath him. 

Her chest rose and fell in nervous breaths as she felt her eyes skirt over her body as it was now fully exposed to him. Claire held her breath at the touch of his hands as they explored the newly exposed skin, his hands caressing each exposed breast and his thumb teasing each pert nipple with a teasing smile. “Every inch of you is just so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his neck craning as to put a sweet kiss against her shoulder and when he pulled back his expression was soft as he gazed down at her, “Eyes on me, I want to see the look on your face as you take my cock.”

Biting her lip, Claire nodded desperately as Freddie pushed up onto his knees. He settled himself between her thighs, his careful touch spreading her legs just enough for him before they reached down for his cock. Her eyes were fixated on his face, and his slack-jawed expression as he dragged the tip of his cock over her slick cunt. His eyes almost shut at the feeling, his body shuddering with a heavy breath as the head of his cock kissed her entrance. 

The pressure of the mere tip of his cock left Claire wincing. It was much thicker than the breadth of his two fingers, the girth of him stretching her core out with the mere first inch of him that tore through the final piece of her that marked her virginity. “Stay nice and relaxed for me, Flower,” Freddie breathed out, his one hand reaching out to stroke over the swell of her hip, “it’s going to feel tight, might even hurt just a little, but it’s going to feel so good. I promise you.” 

Claire gave off a desperate nod, her breath hitching as she felt him ease in just a little more of him. She could feel the slick of her core on the inside of her thighs, his cock coaxing more from her with each careful plunge. Any discomfort that came from accommodating his cock soon dissolved into pleasure, leaving Claire arching her back to angle her hips, finding just where she liked having them angled and digging her heels into the mattress. 

“That’s it,” Freddie cooed, his hand gliding down the back of her thigh to grasp her behind her knee. He lifted her leg up to rest against his hip, her calf coming to rest along the back of his thigh as he eased himself in so close to his limit. “So close to taking all of me,” he added as he leaned in, kissing his way over the angle of her jaw and to her lips that were so desperate to be kissed. 

Her lips welcomed his with a breathy, open-mouthed kiss as her bright eyes fell shut - and while she couldn’t see him she could feel all of him. The sweet embrace of his lips as they swallowed each of her feeble moans. The flex of his arms as they drew her petite body flush to his. His legs and how they were tangled with her. And finally, his cock as it delved deep and deeper still inside her until she burned with a throbbing pleasure, unlike anything she had ever felt. 

“Freddie,” Claire mumbled desperately against his lips, her arms reaching around his to grip his back. 

“That’s it,” he cooed, drawing back just enough to rest his forehead against hers and to bring a hand up to stroke over her cheek, his own lips parting in a ghost of a moan, “you feel how good it feels to - ah - fuck,” his words were broken by his own groan the waves of her pleasure all so consuming that he could feel it too. 

Together, they were a symphony of heavy breaths and lingering touches. Their kisses were messy and desperate, mixed with soft moans and low, guttural groans that were punctuated by one final trust that flooded her core and left her feeling full - as if the piece of her she didn’t know she was missing had finally found her. 

The feeling left Claire panting as she lay out on the bed, her eyes training on Freddie’s features until he had drawn back to leave her nothing more than the darkened ceiling. She could have sworn she was seeing stars, or even colours, as she was consumed by the euphoria that Freddie had brought her two. Her gaze was almost tired as she felt him moving down the bed and to where his clothes rested on the floor. Head lulling to the side, Claire’s heart thundered in her chest, her stomach weak at the thoughts that were all too consuming now, was he leaving? 

Biting her lip she was as he jumped into his boxer, her eyes burning with the threat of tears as any emotion now was almost too much, and then she said it, her words quick - almost fearful - as she sat up and clutch a nearby pillow to her chest, “please say.”

“Hey,” Freddie sighed, his tone instantly reassuring as he braced himself against the bed so that he was at eye level with her, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to go grab a warm cloth, and help you get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Claire nodded, her words a breath, “I’m sorry. Okay.” 

Settling back into the bed, Clare’s hands came up to cover her face as the weight of it all hit her. She wasn’t a virgin anymore - that thought made her smile. She had lost her virginity to her brother’s teammate - that was what made her nervous. If Jordan or any of her brother’s found out, there was no telling how they would react - and her poor father would probably have a stroke if he learned she had done anything out of wedlock. 

The thoughts left her stomach uneasy as Freddie returned to the bedroom with a warm, damp cloth. He ran it carefully over the inside of her legs, before dropping the rag to rest over her knees as she pulled her heel-clad feet into his lap to finally remove them. It was then she spoke, her throat weak from moaning, “Are you scared of my brother?”

Freddie shook his head, his smile returning to his lips, “no, are you?”

A chuckle rocked Claire’s shoulders as she reached her hand up to push her hair from her face, “I’m scared of what he will do to you if he ever finds out.”

“We don’t have to tell him at this happened,” he told her gently, his hand dropping one show to the floor, and then the other before he lay beside her. 

Large hands tugged the blanket around them before he reached out to draw her in close to him. Even now that she had him, all of him, there was nothing like being touched by him. She craved it, thrived under it and now that she had it, she didn’t want to know what it was like to be without it. “But, I can’t pretend nothing happened tonight, Claire. I don’t know what’s happened tonight, but I don’t want it to stop. It’s like-” “Like you’ve found something you didn’t know you were missing?” Claire cut in, earning a gentle nod from him as he leaned in to place a firm kiss on her lips one last time before letting his eyes flutter shut. 

Laying content in his arms, with sleep sure to take them both soon, Claire didn’t know what was to come of them come morning. But what she did know was that she would have to thank the team’s general manager, for she would have never met Freddie if it weren’t for him - and that was the best gift she could have asked for on her birthday.