#those sneaky brits

[theemporium]

You and Lando were far from subtle when it came to your feelings for the Spaniard. 

To be fair, the whole world knew about your boyfriend’s crush on his old teammate. Though most of them assumed it was a joke or an exaggeration, maybe even something both boys played into. But it was undoubtedly real. So fucking real, it was insane. 

It was hard for Lando to not fall in love. At first, the relationship between them was nurturing. Lando was young and new to the Formula One world, and Carlos took him right under his wing. He was kind and funny and made the boy feel at ease whenever he was around the Spaniard. And as the years passed, those feelings went from something platonic into something more and it was like a trainwreck Lando couldn’t stop from happening. He just had to sit there and accept his fate. 

And Lando loved you. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. But you weren’t blind, you saw the way he looked at Carlos even when he thought he was being sneaky. And after one too many drinks that made his lips loose, he had confessed his feelings for his friend. 

He loved you, but he couldn't stop loving Carlos either.

And it was like that night exposed you to a whole new side of the Spanish driver, like you were seeing him through Lando-coloured glasses. And you understood it. You understood why Lando fell so hard, because you were falling right there with him. 

But just like Lando, you were painfully obvious with your feelings. 

Everyone knew the two of you were in love with Carlos Sainz. Your friends knew you were in love with him. The fans knew you were in love with him. Hell, even Carlos knew you were in love with him.

And he loved it. He loved the way he had the two of you wrapped around his finger. He loved your attempts to make him fall. He loved the flirtatious banter, the random but strategic touchiness, the lingering gazes from across the room. He loved the fact you two were so wrapped up in your little game of seduction that you didn’t even realise your feelings were reciprocated.

But Carlos had no problem showing you and Lando just how he felt. 

“Look at you both, mis amores. So pretty on your knees for me.”

Carlos couldn’t help but adore the sight before him. Both of you on your knees before him, flushed cheeks and glossy eyes staring up at him. You were both so good for him, so obedient, so desperate to please him and make him feel good. 

“Tell me what you want,” Carlos commanded softly as his fingers threaded through Lando’s curls, tugging his hair back at the Brit let out a small whimper.

“You,” Lando breathed out as his eyes fluttered shut. “We want you.”

“You want me?” Carlos mused, his other hand leisurely stroking his cock as though he didn’t notice the way you both stared at him with such need. “Go on, mi amor. Show me how badly you want me.”

Lando didn’t hesitate as he leaned forward, his lips wrapping around the head of Carlos’ cock with his hands braced on his thighs. Carlos let out a groan, his head falling back as he kept his hand tangled in Lando’s curls as the Brit began to bob his head up and down.

You let out a whimper, squirming in your position as you clenched your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend taking the Spaniard’s cock down his throat. You glanced up, already finding Carlos staring down at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Touch him, princesa,” Carlos commanded. 

And you followed through with his order wordlessly, reaching down to take Lando’s cock in your hand. He whimpered around Carlos as you swiped your thumb over his sensitive, knowing just what made him crumble in seconds. 

But Carlos loved it. He loved feeling the Brit whine and moan around him. He loved seeing the way his hips bucked and the way his cock would hit the back of Lando’s throat every time the boy jerked forward from the pleasure. He loved the way the boy was whining and moaning when he tugged his head back, taking his cock in his own hand as he held it inches away from Lando’s face as he came.

Lando couldn’t hold himself back as he came, whimpering at his own sensitivity as you kept stroking him until every rope of cum had been milked from him. And the boy was spent, chest heaving for a breath as Carlos spilled all over his face and chest as he reached his edge as well. 

“Wanna be a good girl?” Carlos cooed, panting softly as he watched you glance between both boys with a look of desire.

You nodded. 

“Clean him up, amor,” Carlos commanded softly, smiling softly when you licked the cum off your own fingers first before you leaned over, not even shy or hesitant with the way you kissed your boyfriend despite the mess on his face.

He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of the two of you messily making out, low groans and moans muffled by the kisses as you did just what he said until his hand on the backs of your heads made you pull away with a whimper.

“Mis amores,” he hummed in delight, his fingers itching to photograph the way your faces glistened with his release. “Is what you planned? Is this how you thought your seduction would work?”

Your lips parted in shock. “I—”

“Shh,” he shook his head, though the way his eyes darkened made your stomach twist in desire. “You’ve played your games, now I’m going to play mine. On the bed, both of you. And no touching each other unless I say. Understand?”

You both nodded. 

“Good. Bed. Now.”

.

[ghostofthemost141]

Mistletoe

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Themes: Fluff, Some Suggestive Themes so !18+!

Third POV

Word Count: 1,966

About: It's the official Christmas party on base and Gaz and Soap are trying to push you under the mistletoe with your obvious crush.

Notes: Sorry if my fics have been coming out slow. With holiday season coming up I have been working A LOT but since it is the holiday season, I figured I'd do a holiday themed one with Ghost. Name for you here is Sunny. Enjoy!

“Do it.” The two accented men whispered into your ear. 

You shook your head in response, feeling your heart start to race in response. You knew the two of them were fueled by alcohol but it was mostly their Brit selves being the sneaky bastards that they are. 

“Come onn, ‘unny.” Soap slightly slurred, trying to push you forward. 

“No.” You snared. 

Nobody else seemed to realize the scene that was unfolding in front of everyone, especially the unfortunate soul who Gaz and Soap were trying to push you forward to. The two bastards managed to sneak a mistletoe into the ceiling that nobody else, but you, have noticed. And the unfortunate soul, that you may or may not have become attracted to, was standing right underneath that mistletoe, completely unaware of what was going on. Or he does know what is going on and is just ignoring it. Who knows with your Lieutenant? You could hardly read the man as it is. 

“The Captain is not going to be happy about this.” You snarled. 

“Is the Captain in the room with us?” Gaz asked. 

You gazed around the recreation room, immediately noticing Price’s absence. Son of a bitch probably went to get another one of his cigars. 

“Shit..” I mumbled, feeling the smirks coming from the two of them without looking at them. 

“Come on lass…just do it.” 

“Get it over with.” Gaz followed after Soap, feeling a small nudge after another. 

“You guys please.” I mumbled, feeling myself get more and more frustrated. 

Who the hell let them get into the bourbon? This was ridiculous. Simon was on his phone, just standing there, in the middle of the damn room. Why wasn’t he sitting down so I wasn’t being put through this torture? 

“Alright that’s it.” 

“Huh?” 

Quick as a flash, both Soap and Gaz leaned back and shoved you with so much drunken force that it forced you forward, crashing into your crush’s chest. Damn his chest was so beefy-wait what? Stop it!

“Fucking shit, Lituenant I am so sorry.” I frantically apologized, immediately pulling away from him. 

Simon didn’t say anything but he glared at the two drunken idiots that were giggling like high school girls in some distance behind you. Even though he has the balaclava on, you could just see and feel the anger radiating off of him. 

“I assume those two bloody idiots have something to do with that.” Simon asked. 

“Y-Yes sir.” 

You idiot, you thought. You have been up close and personal with your Lieutenant before so why was it so different now? Perhaps it was the alcohol running through your system, or it was because Simon was wearing his balaclava that exposes his upper half of his face, which allowed you to see his dark brown doe eyes. You could tell that Simon could display what he was saying through his eyes without actually saying anything. Despite never seeing his full face, you could tell that he was a handsome man. A very handsome man. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter out, realizing that you have been staring at him. 

“Are you always this nervous around me?” Simon asked. 

Did..did he really just ask that? What was he scheming? Or even thinking? 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” You say, trying to ignore the nerves and warmth inside of your gut. 

Simon just stared at you, making you even more nervous than before. He then looked up and down at you, which made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was examining you to see if you were lying just by your body movement. And boy was it showing. 

“I have known you long enough Sunny to know that you’re lying to me.” Simon mumbled, keeping strong eye contact. 

“Hmm what do you mean by that, Lieutenant?” You ask, trying to keep it casual. 

“You don’t have to call me Lieutenant when we are off duty.” Simon mentioned. 

“Oh really? Well then shall I call you Mr. Riley?” You joke. 

“Heh. Just Simon is alright.” 

Did he..Did he just chuckle? It was very subtle but you swore you heard it. 

“Oh alrighty then, Simon, I still don’t know what you are talking about.” 

Suddenly Simon took a big step forward, causing you to immediately step back away from him. Simon raised an eyebrow at you upon your action, essentially giving away how you were feeling. 

“Are you sure about that?” Simon questioned.  

“Yes, sir.” You were confident in your answer, despite the big beating in your nerves radiating throughout your body. 

“Stay still then.” 

And with that Simon took another big step towards you, and you remained still as he was up close to you. Simon’s eyes wandered all over you, studying your body language once again. Fucking shit this was nerve racking, you thought. Simon’s eyes then gazed up onto the ceiling, but you kept your eyes at his face. 

“Bloody bastards..” Simon mumbled. 

You knew exactly what he was looking at. That damn mistletoe. The damn thing that got you in this situation in the first place. You looked up, pretending to notice it for the first time. 

“Oh, ha! How about that?” You casually said, but Simon could see right through your bullshit. 

Simon stared right down at you, causing you to crane his neck to hold eye contact with him. He was so tall and so big, muscle wise at least. During missions, when you were uncomfortably close to Simon, your heart never raced and your hands never shook. Sure you felt intimidated by him a little bit but that’s because he was a beast of a man. The way you saw him take down an enemy was like watching a beautiful painting be done in real life time. He was precise and knew what to do. There was in fact a moment that happened between the two of y’all that you both haven’t had the chance to talk about. It wasn’t sexual in nature but it was definitely conversational worthy. 

“Simon..” You mumble. 

“Hm?” Simon raised an eyebrow hearing his name be called. 

“Can we talk about..last week?” You ask. 

Simon’s eyebrows went flat, giving you his neutral glare. He didn’t say anything, allowing you to go first. 

“I know it shouldn’t mean anything, it's just..you don’t normally see your Sergeant half naked. On any mission” You start. 

“I understand.” Simon said. 

What had happened was you were injured to the point that Simon had to strip you of your clothes, minus your underwear, in order to pressurize and tend to your wounds. His eyes wandered all over your body and it made you feel something you haven’t felt before with anyone. It wasn’t sexual in nature, but it definitely felt awkward to be half naked in front of your Lieutenant. Coincidentally, no one else was around when it happened. Just you and your Lieutenant. You wanted his hands to wander and touch your entire body, and he felt that you were feeling that. It almost happened too, until Price and the rest of the Task Force came into view. His hand was on your chest and he leaned in close. It almost went into another direction. 

“I just..didn’t know how you felt from that and I didn’t want us to have any weird tension or act differently towards each other cause of it.” You say, trying to get your feelings out there. 

“You can tell me how you actually feel, Sunny.” Simon said.

What the hell does he mean by that? 

“Uh..that is how I feel.” 

Simon shook his head at you. This bloody bastard. You chuckled at him out of annoyance. 

“And how do you know how I really feel, Lieutenant?” You snarky asked. 

Simon then stepped even closer to you than he was before, as if he was trapping you between him and an invisible wall. It felt as if it was just you and Simon in the room, despite Soap and Gaz still being here, but they weren’t paying any mind to the two of you as they were both playing a drunk game of pool. 

“I know what you wanted that day and I would’ve given it to you if everyone else didn’t show up.” Simon’s voice dropped an octave when he said that, sending chills down your spine. 

Is he implying what you think he is implying? There’s no way. 

“S-Simon..” You stutter out, not finding the words for this situation. 

Simon smirked as he lifted his balaclava up to his nose, revealing more of his face to you that you have never seen before. It made your heart flutter and you got butterflies in your stomach upon seeing it. It was as if you were seeing something very intimate of him that you weren’t supposed to see. 

“Simon..you’re..” You pause, barely finding the words to say. 

“I’m wha’?” Simon smirked, fully hearing his voice for the first time. 

“You’re handsome..I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” 

Simon stopped you by holding your cheek, making you hold eye contact with him. He then took his mask, pulled it over his eyes, and rested it on his head, seeing his fluffy dirty blonde hair for the first time. Why was he doing this? You didn’t understand it. 

“Simon I-” 

SMOOCH 

You were cut off by Simon’s lips landing on yours. His lips were soft, not chapped and felt so damn soft. You kissed back, not wanting this to end. Not ever, ever, ever. You felt Simon nibble on your bottom lip causing you to gasp out of surprisement. Simon then stuck his tongue into your mouth, causing you to softly moan with the action. You wanted to pull away, feeling too flustered, but as soon as you did, Simon held your head and forced you back on his lips, keeping your head in place. Instinctively, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his big muscles through the thin jacket he was wearing. Everything about this was perfect. You let Simon explore your mouth with pleasure, not even fighting for dominance with him and you just let him do whatever he wanted. You dreamed of this moment and it was finally happening. 

“S-Simon..” You moaned into his mouth, which went straight to his lower region. 

Simon couldn’t believe this was happening either. He eventually pulled away but remained close to your face. There was silence between the two of you but it was good silence, as if the two of you were processing what just happened in your own ways. 

“Bloody fucking hell, get a room you two!!” Price’s voice suddenly boomed into the room. 

You thought that would cause Simon to pull away from you but he didn’t. No, he kept his hands on you and you kept his hands on you. 

“Fuck off and go smoke yooself to death Price.” Simon retorted back, knowing that was the booze talking. 

Price just rolled his eyes as he approached Soap and Gaz, seeing what they were doing. The three of them had no clue how the two of you felt and you were bound to keep it that way. For now. Simon’s eyes went back to you as if he was examining you. 

“Let’s go back to my dorm, aye?” Simon suggested, which then went straight to your core. 

“Yes, sir.” You agreed with no hesitation. 

Simon then led you to his room, and gave you an entire night of love and passion. And during the whole time, you began to think that this all happened, even if this was not going to be a permanent thing, you knew at least for the time being that tonight happened because of one damn thing. That damn mistletoe. 

END

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Five

"We are not sharing a bed."

"Alright, doll, enjoy sleepin’ on the floor then," Butcher shrugged, kicking off his boots.

I scoffed as I turned towards the door. "I'm getting my own room."

"You will do no such thing," Butcher intervened sternly. "I told Ed we was on our honeymoon, remember?"

"Yeah, and I also told him you were gay, so I guess we're both liars," I said, pivoting back to Butcher as I placed both hands on my hips. "Unless," I continued, analyzing the burly Brit.

"Unless what?" Butcher barked, mirroring my stance.

"Well, I don't know," I slyly commented. "I've seen the way you look at MM. But hey," I held up my hands, "I get it. He's a nice-looking man, you know, with his big, strong arms and stubble that I'm sure would leave the loveliest of burns on anyone's thighs-

The rest of my words evaporated into thin air as Butcher stalked over to me, immense agitation written all over his face as he backed me up against the sky-blue wall. "Oi, I know what you're tryin’ to do, ya’ sneaky little cunt. But it ain’t gonna work."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, peering up at him innocently. I widened my eyes, painting on a face that resembled a puppy.

Butcher's mouth hardened. "You're tryin’ to get a rise outta me, so you'll get your way." He leaned in as his voice fell to a husky whisper. "Nice try, sweetheart, but I ain’t fallin’ for it."

"Well, it was worth a shot, don't you think?"

Butcher merely shook his head before retreating to the other side of the room and unpacking his belongings. I watched him quietly for a moment as he threw his Hawaiian shirts into the white wood dresser before sighing loudly and holding my hand out. "Give me your keys."

"Why?" He grunted, not bothering to look up.

"Because I'm sleeping in the car."

"Bullocks." He argued, closing the now full drawer and finally looking at me. "You’re not leavin’ the confines of this room without me supervision."

"I'm not a child, Butcher. I don't need you to babysit me," I huffed. "Now, hand over your fucking keys."

"Not happenin’, princess. S’not safe to be out there all by your lonesome," he said, gesturing to the window to acknowledge the outside world.

I narrowed my eyes. "You don't give a rat's ass about my safety. You're just scared I'll drive off without you, leaving you all alone in Snow White's cottage with only Ed to keep you company. But maybe that'd be fun. I mean, speaking from experience, older men are amazing in bed because they really know how to take control. I bet Ed would rock your world if you just gave him the chance."

My frame again collided with the wall when Butcher trudged back over with much more aggression. I giggled maniacally as his fingers applied the most beautiful pressure to my neck, cutting off most of my air source and the blood to my head.

His mouth grazed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're going to sleep in this room, in that bed, with me, even if I have to hold a gun to your head. And lucky for you, I have plenty of those."

Butcher pulled back enough so he could see my face. "Do ya’ understand?"

I was dizzy as I stared at him, smiling lazily. "Yes, Daddy. I understand."

Butcher's breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, I thought he might kiss me. In preparation, I swiped my tongue over my lower lip. His eyes honed in on the action, and his mouth parted as soft pants exited his mouth.

But everything shattered when he suddenly pulled back, ending the confusing yet heated interaction.

"Go shower, ya’ smell like shite," he instructed, turning away from me.

"You don't exactly smell like roses either," I grumbled as I shuffled over to my bag and pulled out an oversized white tee and a clean pair of black panties with a simple lace trim.

As I entered the small, extended bathroom, I glanced back at Butcher and almost missed the bulge he was attempting to conceal by pretending to look out the window. His knuckles were white as they clenched the blue silk curtain, and his shoulders were taut with tension.

The bathroom door clicked shut, and I leaned on it for support as I closed my eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. The sight of Butcher's tented jeans was burned into my eyelids, causing a strong need to settle in my core, pulsing incessantly.

"Fuck," I whispered as I pushed myself off of the door and made quick work of turning on the shower and stripping myself of my clothes that had begun sticking to my skin.

I let the waves of purposeful cold water wash over my body as I scrubbed myself, trying to think of anything other than what I knew Butcher was doing in the next room over. If I strained my ears, I could almost hear his quiet grunts of pleasure as he roughly stroked his member, nearing his release. There was no doubt that Butcher had sent me to go shower so he could fix his little problem.

With minimal shame, I let my hand trail between my breasts and down the length of my torso until I reached my aching cunt that had been begging for attention since the moment Butcher wrapped his hand around my throat.

I leaned against the shower wall as the water, now much warmer, trickled down my back, only aiding my nearing orgasm. My hips rocked against my hand as my fingers dove into my sopping hole relentlessly, grazing the spot that made my knees go weak. A place that Butcher had no trouble reaching with his fingers and his cock. I pictured the veiny length that I'd had the privilege of coming apart on that one night now months ago.  

I slammed my other hand over my mouth to silence my whine as I came on my fingers. My vision blurred, and I helplessly reached out to shut off the water before staggering out of the shower and grabbing a fluffy white towel that sat on the countertop.

After gathering my bearings, I hastily dried myself off and left my hair, wet and tangled, to fall around my shoulders as I threw on my shirt and underwear.

Then, I shut off the bathroom light and cracked open the door, peering out into the now-dark bedroom. I squinted, making out Butcher, who was in bed, lying on his side, facing away from me. I studied his breaths for a moment as I tried to deduce whether or not he was faking his slumber.

Deciding that he was, in fact, asleep, I tiptoed over to the unoccupied side of the bed and nimbly slid under the covers. I turned my head and watched as a sliver of moonlight that snuck between the curtains fanned over him, basking his beautifully sculpted face in a glow that made him look almost ethereal. I assumed it was what Zeus looked like if the Greek God ever took a few moments of rest.

A yawn bubbled up from my throat, urging me to rest as well, so I clutched my pillow and closed my eyes, listening to the breeze that was picking up outside. I was grateful that Butcher wasn't hogging the blankets, and I drew them up to my neck, burrowing deeper in search of warmth.

Soon, I drifted off, and dreams invaded my mind, specifically one about the day I met Butcher. He had found me in a tiny hideout, living with other dealers as we all scrounged on the street, barely scraping by. He had initially come to collect some information from our boss, but when he'd laid eyes on me, huddled up in the corner of the dingy apartment, he recruited me immediately.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin’ livin’ in a place like this, eh?" He asked, displaying his prominent cockney accent as he crouched in front of me. "Did some bloke use ya’ to pay a debt?"

"No, you ass, I work here," I shot back.

His brow arched at my surprising rebuttal. "Well, I'll be. For someone who looks like a little princess, you sure do have a mouth on ya’."

"And if you ask me what else my mouth does, I will bite off your tongue and shove it so far down your throat you'll be shitting it out for a year."

"Jo," Hugo, my boss, warned me, and I scowled at both men, scooting farther into my corner and tightening my hold on my stale mug of coffee.

"New deal," the Englishman announced, rising to his feet to face Hugo. "I'll give ya’ one grande for everythin’ you know about the Temp V that's bein’ funneled through the Chinese restaurant down the street." He then pointed to me. "And her."

I stood to my full height, which wasn't very impressive compared to the broad man in front of me. "This isn't the 1800 hundreds, buddy. You can't go around bargaining women like they're fucking objects."

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean to tickle any nerves. I am merely in the position to expand my team, and I was thinkin’ you just might be the perfect fit."

"Team? Do you coach cricket down at the local senior center?" I asked mockingly.

"Is she always like this?" The man questioned Hugo, completely disregarding me.

"Yup, I have yet to find her off switch."

I glared at my boss. "Fuck you."

"See," Hugo said, gesturing to me. "You really want to put up with this? She's stubborn to an end, with an attitude that would drive anyone insane."

"No," the Englishman whispered as his hazel eyes wandered my face, "She's magnificent."

༺༻

A clash of thunder jolted me awake, and I abruptly sat up before throwing my legs over the side of the bed and stumbling over to the window. I cautiously pulled the curtain back to gaze through the glass and watched in horror as rain splattered down angrily while lightning flashed from above.

My latest career was in face-to-face combat with supes who did frightening things like shoot lasers from their eyes or start a fire with a mere snap of their fingers. But my greatest fear in life was storms. Even the slightest bit of thunder immediately brought me back to my childhood, and I felt like a little kid again, cowering under the covers of my bed while my parents all but tore each other apart in the living room, and a storm raged all around the small ranch house.

Anxiety racked my body, and I sprang back when thunder boomed again. A small whimper left my mouth before a voice behind me drew my attention.

"Come on back to bed."

I twisted around to look at Butcher, who was now awake and sitting up. I opened my mouth to respond, but another thunderclap interrupted me, and a tremble vibrated in my bones.

My vision blurred with tears as I bit harshly into my lip before my mouth filled with the taste of copper. I looked up at Butcher, and when he saw my face, his brows creased, and he held out his hands, beckoning me toward him. "C’mere, love."

I hesitated, but when a branch from the tree outside smacked against the window, I shot forward, straight into Butcher's arms.

"Atta girl. There we go," he murmured, pulling me to lay on his bare chest as he leaned back against the headboard. My legs landed on either side of his torso, and I wrapped my hands around his neck, grasping the ends of his hair and tangling my fingers in the strands.

"That’s it. Ya’ just hang onto me," Butcher whispered.

His hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly, and I focused on the feeling of his touch to ground myself.

"It's just a pesky little storm. Nothin’ to be afraid of."

His reassurance made me sink further into his embrace, and before long, my breathing began to slow, and my cries significantly quieted.

I pulled back slightly to rest my forehead against his and took notice of the tension that began to brew between us. My eyes dropped from Butcher's dark eyes that studied me to his full lips, which were only inches from my own, and without thinking, I closed the gap between us.

My cunt pulsed, and I knew Butcher could feel it as I ground myself down on him while our lips clashed together. But all too soon, he broke away. "Fuckin’ hell, doll. What are ya’ doin’?"

I mumbled my answer, leaning back in. "Need you."

Butcher stopped me by placing both his hands on my shoulders, creating distance between us. "Now, just a minute, love. I don't want ya’ goin’ and makin’ a mistake here."

I went to answer, but Butcher held up his hand, silencing me as he continued. "You're in a very...vulnerable state right now, and I don't wanna take advantage of ya’."

"You're not. I promise."

Butcher didn't look convinced as the wind blew harshly outside, and I winced in his arms, bracing my hands against his chest. "Please, Butcher, I need this. I need the distraction."

Fresh tears of desperation welled in my eyes, and he was quick to wipe them away as they stained my cheeks.  

Butcher was quiet as he looked at me in nothing but my thin t-shirt with my nipples peeking through and my panties that were beyond soaked.

His silence sprouted panic in my head as I began to worry that maybe it was due to the fact that he didn't want me like that anymore. One hook-up three months prior certainly didn't define one's feelings, and the arousal he displayed earlier this evening could easily be explained as some sort of anatomical dysfunction.

"It's ok. I get it," I muttered, mortified, falling off of Butcher's lap and curling up on my side of the bed. "It was presumptuous to assume you were attracted to me. I'm sorry."

Rejection flooded my body, and I pulled my blankets tightly against me, only to have them ripped away seconds later.

"The fuck are ya’ goin’ on about?" Butcher asked gruffly, leaning over me. The simple chain displaying his wedding ring dangled next to my face, and I did my best to ignore it as I answered him. "The fact that you're clearly unattracted to me. But it's fine, no hard feelings."

I shoved my face into my pillow so I wouldn't have to look at Butcher as he granted me the confirmation that I so dreaded. But instead of doing just that, he gently instructed me, "Gimme your hand."

I hesitated before placing my hand in his outstretched one. Still lying on my side, I felt Butcher guide it behind me towards his frame. A small gasp of air escaped my lungs when my hand was placed over his front, and I felt a bulge that grew with every second.

"You think I don't want ya’?" He asked lowly. "Then explain this."

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I looked over my shoulder, and my heart raced at the lust that bloomed in his eyes. "Of course I want you. I'll always want ya’, doll. No matter how much ya’ try to push me away. You're the reason why I can't sleep at night no more because I'm fuckin’ my fist, rememberin’ the way ya’ whined underneath me as you came all over my cock the night before I left."

I didn't know what to say. For the first time in my life, all words had evaded me.

"But, I know how spontaneous you can get, darlin’. And I don't want ya’ to wake up tomorrow and regret tonight."

"I could never regret you." My voice was hoarse from crying, and I slowly sat up. Butcher matched my position on the bed, so we sat facing one another.

My eyes lowered to Butcher's hard length, and I reached my arm out. "Is this ok?" I whispered as my fingers traced the waistband of his boxers.

Butcher breathed deeply, closing his eyes before opening them again to look at me earnestly. "If this is what ya’ really want, petal, then s’ok with me."

The new pet name warmed my cheeks as my hand dipped into Butcher's boxers and wrapped around his hard length. I used my other hand to ease down the fabric, and his cock popped free, leaking pre-cum from its angry, red tip.

Butcher hissed as I spat into my hand and began to stroke him gently. I wanted him in my mouth, to feel his fat, swollen head hit the back of my throat till my eyes watered, but I craved comfort at this moment, so I looked at Butcher. "Please," I begged. "I need you. Need to be close to you."

Solemnly, Butcher nodded and easily pried my hand off of him. He was quick to discard his boxers and eased himself up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard once more.

"C’mere, sweetheart," he encouraged softly.

I, too, rid myself of my underwear and crawled up the bed. Butcher used his hands on my hips to guide me as I swung my leg over his torso so I was straddling him.

"You tell me if ya’ wanna to stop." He said, removing one of his hands from my hip to cup my jaw instead to guarantee that I was looking at him. "I don't care if I'm in the middle of comin’; if ya’ wanna stop, we stop, got it?"

I nodded, appreciating that even in a heightened moment of pleasure, Butcher would still put my needs before his.

"Atta girl."

Butcher ran his hands up at down my arms as I wrapped my hand around his cock for the second time that night and lined him up with my pussy which was weeping just for him.

"Daddy," I whimpered as I sank down on Butcher's thick shaft, my walls stretching to accommodate his almost painful size. "I forgot how big you are."

"Fuck I missed ya’," Butcher groaned. "I missed both of ya’: my girl and her perfect pussy."

I was already preening under his words as I rose up before sinking down on him again. I repeated the action several more times before settling into a steady rhythm.

"Doin’ so good for me, love," Butcher said, his voice raspy as his thumb circled my aching clit, and I couldn't stop my look of pure content as his praise washed over me.

"Fuck, Daddy, that feels so good," I whined. But Buther already knew that based on how tightly I was squeezing his cock, threatening to milk him any second.

"Yeah? You gonna come, sweet thing? I know ya’ want to. Come on and show me how much ya’ appreciate my cock stretching you wide open."

My slick walls constricted around Butcher's length, and a soft cry left my mouth as I reached my climax. I gripped Butcher's shoulders, holding on for dear life as he grabbed the fat of my ass harshly, helping me to fuck myself through my orgasm.

"There we go. Make a mess for me. That's it, petal."

My chin met my chest as I panted, trying to catch my breath. My movements were much more docile as I slowly continued to ride him, enjoying the lasting pleasure from my orgasm. But the feeling soon turned intense again as I felt my second high quickly building.

"Already goin’ for another?" Butcher chuckled, brushing stray hair away from my face, which had stuck to my sweaty skin.

"Daddy, please," I cried, even though I wasn't even sure what I was pleading for.

"Take what ya’ need, sweetheart. Make yourself come again," Butcher coaxed as his thumb left my throbbing clit and instead reached around to rim my puckered hole. I mewled loudly as my hips slammed down harder, chasing a new high.

Butcher eased my shirt over my head, revealing my chest and nipples that were practically begging for to be sucked.

"There's my beautiful girl. So fuckin’ pretty," Butcher growled, leaning forward and swirling his tongue around my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He sucked greedily, causing my second orgasm to crash into me like a freight train. A strangled moan exited my mouth, and I clung to Butcher helplessly.

Once I came back down to earth, Butcher gripped my hips firmly. "Hang on tight, petal," he warned before holding me in place as he fucked up into me, now intent on chasing his own release after holding back for so long to ensure that I had got what I needed.

"Best fuckin’ pussy." He groaned. "You've fuckin’ ruined me for anyone else."

Butcher's movements stuttered, and I felt his hot release coat my walls. His teeth sank into my shoulder, marking me and creating a constant reminder of this night.

The silence that followed felt poignant compared to the way we had been filling the room with sounds of satisfaction just moments before.

"You reckon we was too loud?" Butcher finally asked, kissing the mark he had created, soothing the inflamed flesh as he traced random shapes on my lower back. His length still pulsed inside me, but I found the connection comforting, so I made no motion to move.

"Well, you did say we were on our honeymoon," I joked. "At least it's believable now."

Butcher spanked my ass playfully. "Accordin’ to traditional marital standards, I believe newly married couples usually engage in such intimate activities more than once on their honeymoon."

"It would be a shame if we didn't at least try to live up to those standards, don't you think?" I asked, a smirk playing at the edge of my lips.

"A shame indeed," Butcher replied, leaning forward to capture my lips in a long kiss.

The hate I had so intensely felt for him melted away as he caressed me as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you," I murmured, looking up into his amber eyes.

Butcher smiled softly, something he didn't often do. "Let's get some sleep, yeah? I think you've done a proper job of tirin’ us both out."

I nodded, and Butcher eased me off of his softening length. I whined, but he was quick to place a kiss on my temple, calming me.

Butcher delicately placed me down on the mattress, and I sighed in contentment. I watched him effortlessly strut into the bathroom, and he threw a wink my way, knowing that I was checking him out. Even though we'd just had sex, the sight of his muscular body had me rubbing my legs together.

Butcher popped out a moment later with a towel in hand. Right away, he spotted the needy look on my face and snickered. "Insatiable little thing, aren't ya’?"

I nodded my head up and down, and Butcher scoffed, "Tomorrow, we can continue, but right now, young lady, you're goin’ to sleep."

I pouted up at him, feeling playful. "But I don't want to sleep, Daddy."

Butcher climbed on the bed and placed a hand on either side of my head. "But you're not in charge, are ya’, petal?"

"Mm, I guess I forgot who it was. Maybe you should remind me."

Butcher's eyes darkened as he grinned madly and gripped my waist, effortlessly flipping me over.

"Oh, you're in for it, sweetheart."

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

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[ladyaislinn]

November 4, 2024

Rufus Sewell Loves Grappling with His ‘The Diplomat’ Wife Keri Russell

Never have the power dynamics in a marriage been more intimate and sexy. "The mischief he's making is in order to put her forward, which is key," Sewell tells IW.

Russell and Sewell display a convincing intimacy that is great fun to watch. I spoke to Sewell on Zoom, and learned a few things you may or may not know about him and the show.

1. He is a respected British stage and television actor.  In “The Diplomat,” he deploys a perfect American accent. He lives in Los Angeles now, but he was nurtured back in the day by Judi Dench. “When we were at drama school at Central School of Speech and Drama, or Central School of Screech and Drama, as we called it at the time,” he said on Zoom, “she directed The Scottish Play, and I played the porter. That got me my start, because she, unbeknownst to me, got her agent to come and see me, and she even got me my first job.”

He got his start playing a Franciscan friar in “The Royal Heart of the Sun,” and a crazed skinhead stand-up comedian in “Comedians.” “I played a Scottish heroin addict,” he said. “I played a Dublin Bus driver with Albert Finney, very working class. After a few years of playing out there parts and and feeling that that was my niche, I played someone who was supposed to be the young guy, the young buck. And it was a struggle for me, because I wasn’t used to not having a mask to liberate me. I did play Will Ladislaw in ‘Middlemarch.’ It changed the way I was seen. It took me a long time to be able to just get the idea of how people saw me out of my head. That’s why I love my career now, because it feels like as I’m getting older, I’m able to go back to the parts I did before that and still have the benefit of actually being able to play the dude sometimes.”

2. Americans see Sewell differently than Brits.  He plays a mature dude in “The Diplomat.” “I don’t think I would have got this role in a British production,” said Sewell, “[unless] it had been an upper-class part, some remote Lord or some wanker on a horse. But this role came via the Americans, who don’t have the same ideas of types of actors, kind of class, etc. I’m actually coming from quite a poor background, but because of those jobs, I read as quite posh, which meant that for a long time, I haven’t got near a lot of parts that I could do. I feel like I’m getting closer. It’s about being allowed to do parts that I probably wouldn’t like. It’s the same with playing Prince Andrew [Netflix’s “Scoop”]. It was so liberating in so many ways. It’s posh, but It was less of a challenge, weirdly enough, than the things that people think are second nature for me.”

6. Hal Wyler’s goal is to ensure Kate’s success.  Having had a top diplomatic career of his own, sidelined, Wyler is now navigating his wife’s rising fortunes. As Sewell sees it, “the success that she has is something that he has been behind the scenes trying to instigate. All of his back-room machinations are in the service of putting her up where he believes — and she does not — that she belongs, which is at the top. So the fantastic thing about the dynamic is that when he’s at his most sneaky, it is in service of her and in the service of everything that they both believe is good and and that is the saving grace. He has always been her biggest advocate and supporter, to the extent that early on any decision that she would have wanted to take, which would have put their relationship ahead of her career, he would be very much against. He played backup for her the way she has played backup for him. He’s not naturally as shape-changing as he wishes to be, his frame is not the right size naturally to play backup. So it’s a learning process for him.”

7. The couple’s struggles are key to their mutual attraction.  “The mischief he’s making is in order to put her forward, which is key,” said Sewell. “So all of those struggles are about his nature and the way he does things which are like oil and water between the two of them, but it’s also a massive part of their attraction. So this is, and always has been, and always will be, their key struggle. All of their dynamic, the entire DNA of their relationship, all of their fights, all of their struggles, are tied up with what they think is sexy about each other. What they can’t get away from is also what makes them want to strangle each other, and that’s what makes it delicious [to have sex], sometimes in the same night or in this bush, who knows?”

8. The relaxed intimate marital scenes are not hard to do.  When Sewell first read the script, “in one way, you could recognize it as a comedy of divorce,” he said. “But it’s so well-written. I was so excited by what one is not used to seeing in this kind of format television. The biggest thing was that people recognize the sniffing of each other’s arm pits, and they’re taking a pee whilst talking, and fighting over the crumbs of a croissant, and then, the sex and all of these things going together just made it feel so much more real, with their humor and the dynamic.”

9. It works when it’s funny.  “When we go to these places, and when we meet a lot of diplomats, the people in this world, it’s very accurate, that gallows humor,” said Sewell, “that Terminator scan of a room, not only who are the people to wine and dine, who are the people to avoid, but who are the people to kill. Humor is not a thing sprinkled on the top. It’s absolutely integral.”

These are people who do hardcore plotting and political intrigue in bed, “with the munchies and the sex all tied together,” Sewell said. “Like the strap in the bushes in Season 1, which was the North Star in terms of tone, not that the tone should be fighting in the bushes, but the fact it can go from something so serious and real to something so ridiculous and also real, and back again in the way that life can. It was: ‘the parameters are here.’ That feeling of freedom and the ridiculousness of reality is so much fun because it’s funny. You don’t have to fake it. You just make it real. We laugh a lot.”

[saltyxtides]

MONTGOMERY WARDEYN.

Sibling what?  Code of conduct?

She sneered her nose at the wording. Bayden suddenly sounded like he was raised in Catholic school or maybe he’d been watching too much Brit tv. What the fuck? 

She let that weirdness go when he asked to call him more. 

“Okay? I know damn well you have a phone. I thought you didn’t like we couldn’t be completely honest there in case people were listening. But, okay. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You’re trying to check up on my dates again. You worry too much. I can take care of myself, but if it makes you feel better, I will.” 

Celeste hit on one unknowingly with that one and scored big for Bayden. He might not know it yet, but if Monty followed through, he would be thankful later. Shocked and thankful. 

When Bayden pointed to the cams she shook her head. “Stop foiling my dreams, Bay.” She crossed her arms and pouted when she realized she was wrong. 

Then there came something to bring her back up. 

“A surprise? For me? What are you talking about now?” 

She looked around at the chinzy tackiness of it all. 

“You are right about that. I do deserve better.” 

Once they were talking about Janet and he was trying to steer her away from it Monty continued to be wow-ed and weirded out by the manner in which Bayden spoke. It was just so flowery. It seemed off, but funny. 

“Why do you sound like a mashup of Star Wars, My Little Pony, and Friends with a dash of wannabe Deadpool only you’re not pulling any of them off?” She was laughing softly poking fun at how he spoke which was probably a good thing because it distracted her from the actual conversation’s topic more than what the fake Bayden was trying to do. Celeste’s flowery way of speaking was definitely catching her ear and seemed to over do it when trying to act like a don’t-care-boy, sort of like Amanda Bynes in She’s the Man. She just didn’t quite pull it off and if an audience was watching it would be pretty damn fun. It also wasn’t enough to make Monty jump to any crazy conclusions like it wasn’t her brother in that skin, but it certainly raised a brow. 

“Oswald?” Monty shrieked shrill at Bayden’s analogy of himself in a suit because Monty knew something else Celeste didn’t know. 

“And that’s a bad thing? I mean it is for me, maybe not for you, but  I told you never to bring your obsession with him up again. Your celebrity crush on him got way too descriptive and TMI for even me of all things you wanted to do to that man, brother dear. You are out of hand, Bayden. You did that on purpose just to put all those images back in my head, didn’t you? Sneaky, sneaky. I’ll get you back for that.” 

Sibling stories were spilling. Bayden’s secrets were too. Celebrity crush. Robin Lord Taylor. Now she knows. Rogue wasn’t the only comic book character brought to life on screen Bayden had an affinity for. 

It seemed after that Bayden tried to save face after Monty’s mocking and speak about who he danced with in real life. Screw fake crushes. Something real happened to him? Monty lifted yet another brow. 

“Shhh. Oh my gawd Bayden. We’re a little close to the house to be saying that place’s name out loud. Mom’ll gut you. You know she’s terrified of you loving him more than her. You and your daddy issues. AND don’t say that’s crazy because we both already know she’s crazy. But okaaaaaaaaay. Okay. I believe you. You danced with a girl. Your secrets are safe with me. Always are. You know that.” 

She still sneered her nose up because there was no telling what Bayden got up to in the Hotel Cortez. It was the family’s weak spot when it came to Bayden. It was where they fucked up and let out his leash too far. 

“But you are talking weird. You are just extra today, Bay. Did they change your meds again? You always get weird when they change your meds.” 

Everything got light again with the tale of their childhood. It felt good to Monty to relive it. She parked in the garage and the door would close behind them. Once it down they were safe. 

“Safe. It’s down. You can sit up. We’re home. We can act normal now. No more show for the hospital.” 

She’d get out and head into the house through a side kitchen door. The house was as it always was. 

“Mom. We’re home!” Monty called out and set the keys in dish on the counter. 

The doctor’s voice would come from the bathroom way down a long wing in the hall. 

“Thank you for bringing my boy on this day of love. My children are home at last.” Then a big splash was heard as she laughed kicking her feet around in her bubbles. 

Monty’s eyes shifted over to Bayden, “Told ya and looky there, still alive. Not drowned yet. Worry wart.”  “Now, what’s the surprise? And our dance before figures out how to get out of the tub or let me guess. You have to go help her first?”  ( @montywonmom )

Today was shaping up to be more of a Valentine's DAYMARE than a s i b l i n g celebration.

Everything had turned out to be ROCKY at best && the weight of unresolved emotions hung heavily in themselves.

“ I KNOW, I k n o w. It’s just that I care, okay? You’re not just my little sister. You're my ONLY l i t t l e sister Monty. I can’t help but think about all the potential creeps out there. GOOD at l e a s t text once in a while if you can't call me. ”

Not that they believed in Montgomery to keep her word. Relying on her was more often a gamble or a risk more times than not ending in disappointment. There was no doubt Bayden countlessly had reached out only for his efforts to dissolve into the quicksand of her busy lifestyle/ignoring her big brother. Yet the urge to connect — to try was far stronger than the fear of not trying to help Bayden in the very end.

It honestly sucks to like someone, let alone care. They already learned what happens when you do. It never works out in the end.

They NEEDED to s t a y focused. They NEEDED to not s c r e w this up. But doubts lurked in the corners of the back of there mind whispering deceptive thoughts that threatened to unravel there focus. Each passing whisper fed off there anxiety only amplifying the sense of urgency that coursed through their veins.

Knowing the bond he had with his sister was significant to Bayden himself && rather than letting the day's LESS-than-g l a m o r o u s moments push && pull as they urgently were rushing Montgomery. They needed to make sure DR. W a r d e y n was ok.

" I'll stop foiling your DREAMS when you stop being i m p a t i e n t, " a faint smirk on Bayden's features as they continued to walk alongside Montgomery.

" SEE? You're being Impatient a g a i n! I guess I'll keep foiling your dreams when you least expect me to. " Knowing full well that Bayden himself would have relished in a little game with his sister like this priding on being the dream disruptor to his sister jokingly. Keeping her hopefully intrigued about her valentine surprise at least as they held a certain smugness && ignored her on purpose.

Not that the oddly oversized absurdity of cheesy Valentine decorations clinging to the white walls desperately trying to make something out of nothing. That ' CHINTZY t a c k i n e s s ' couldn’t be helped — neither could it overshadow how they felt about themselves being Bayden in the moment.

Desperately trying to make something out of nothing. Trying so desperately to be someone else — all over again.

Wow. More than anything they were slightly impressed Montgomery knew the words ' Star Wars ' let alone ' My Little Pony '.

" Did I just hear you say My Little Pony? Star Wars? I bet you secretly watch My Little Pony when no ones around, " Half in disbelief && half in shock && half joking for once.

" Maybe not that DRAMATIC, but a bit more — expressive && a tiny bit nervous than usual . . . " A tiny bit nervous was an understatement as they stared at the ceiling of Montgomery's car questioning when they were going to figure out they were a fake.

Only underneath the lightness in the moment was a level of anxiety that couldn't be comprehended in the kind of way that felt like they've done wrong.

" How dare you! I'm simply expressing my 50-s h a d e s-of love for Robin Lord Taylor!!! "

An ache flaring in there chest as they were learning things about Bayden from someone else && not exactly from himself hit very different. Each little detail shared felt like a knife — twisting with the realization that this felt invasive. That's not the way they wanted to know him. Shoving the thoughts from there mind as that's the least of there problems right now but a sharp ache still remained.

If she wants sneaky. They'll show Montgomery sneaky. Whipping Bayden's phone out so secretly && with a bit of heavy concentration to do what they wanted to do while Montgomery drove they sent her a text && an image from the backseat!

[ 📱 — text to Montgomery from Bayden ] Nothing freaky to see here at all. [ X ]

" You do know HOUSES can't hear r i g h t? Please seek professional help if you start hearing houses Monty. The crazy in our Mom doesn't fall to far from the crazy in us. We just make it lOoK gOoD. Minus your expert level on house whispering now! So rude of you keeping that from me. That's why you need to CALL me m o r e. But yea. Don't tell Mom. I'll also keep your HOUSE w h i s p e r i n g from Mom too. "

Joking into it more than trying to take what she said seriously or to heavy, because they know how Bayden felt about Hotel Cortez && at the same time they can't say they feel the same way as them. They've only been there once.

" Leave my meds out of this!!! I'm doing this MY w a y this year, " as if her big brother has had this moment in his mind for a while. Yet she's been questioning them ever since they arrived at Briarcliff. Being reminded of an pitbull that won't let go of it's toy.

Though in all trueness, they couldn't compare to the real Bayden. However, they did plan this in case of this happening. Only thing they wished they could change was there situation with Bayden prior. In the kind of way to prepare themselves to be the Bayden Montgomery expects to be would have helped more then trying to grasp into improv.

" Ha ha Monty VERY f u n n y. " They retorted not so amused. Now that they were actually in a parked car. Getting up slowly from the back seat of her car as soreness throbbed from there stomach.

Only the moment they open the car door to get out there was a familiar rancid smell overwhelming them.

The KIND of s m e l l that they knew wasn't existent but only in there mind. Casually stepping out of the car into the garage there ' IT ' was again.

On the cemented ground of the garage the visage of a dead girl again laid a few ways away from them, as they recall seeing her near the laundry room last time they visited. Her skin swollen about to split any moment. Once a beautiful young girl but now just a tangled decaying rot of a mess.

As that smell that filled the entire garage was like potted meat left in the sun. It doesn't help that the empty glassy appearance of it's eyes followed them like a Decayed-Mona-Lisa, as the veins around it's eyes appeared black making it much harder to pry there own attention away.

They knew she wasn't real, or actually there, but that didn't mean it didn't startle them.

Or was it? They question to themselves that there might be more to Bayden. With so many EYES on h i m, they couldn't investigate the matter on there own without the questions being raised if there was something wrong with him.

After all, if they ' SWAP b o d i e s ' why couldn't Bayden see thing's that other's can't? His family tree comes from a LINE of w i t c h e s/w i z a r d s.

Where the voices more than just voices && the things they see more than just that. Or where they projecting what they desire Bayden to be?

But why it had moved from the Laundry Room to the Garage? Did it move because ' IT ' followed them in the kind of way they spent some time in the garage back in Christmas? Or had it moved to lead them. In the kind of way that the dead girl was trying to show Bayden something.

It won't be solved standing around making Montgomery suspect something was wrong with them. They already had enough to actually worry about right now. Closing the car door gently as if everything was normal. No smell. No dead girl. Just them walking over to pick up something they hid during Christmas that they needed to use.

Following Montgomery into DR.W a r d e y n ' s home through the side kitchen door. It looked exactly the same when they visited.

But it was such a relief to hear DR.W a r d e y n ' s voice, to feel a burden weight lift from her shoulders.

Never had they ever felt so awkward && out of place standing there in an actual family unit. Dysfunctional. But still a family unit. Better then Rowan's && her own situation anyway.

The way there tongue felt thick && full of cotton suddenly. As if anything they wanted to say back in that moment wouldn't come out. Staring down the hallway where DR. W a r d e y n ' s voice came from.

“ ALRIGHT, a l r i g h t ! I won’t jump to help Mom just yet, ” they said, crossing there arms with playful mock sternness. “ But you’re RIGHT, we should probably dance like nobody’s w a t c h i n g before she sets sail on her bubble sea. ”

On that note they began walking past Montgomery with ease && little hesitation as if they've known this house all there life.

" Stay here for a second Monty I want to do something first — " they sounded more serious as they went to the living room && though they felt terribly stupid, in the kind of way that made them feel utterly embarrassed.

They put 5 sparklers In the shape of an ' M ' for Montgomery in a aluminum can they already put holes in to hold them. Finding them around Christmas when they where restless.

Turning off the living room lights leaving it nicely dark enough. Fiddling with Bayden's phone ready as they lowered the volume so it wasn't hella loud after lighting one sparkler after another until they were all lit, sparkling in that ' M ' for her to clearly see.

" You can come look now, " not so loud but just loud enough for Montgomery to catch.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı. Now Playing [My Way] 0:07 ———♡——— 4:36 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

" — Montgomery Wardeyn will you do me the honor of having this dance with me? "

[forgedqzs]

[ EMILIA CLARKE ] – have you heard about [LUCIA "LUX" CHANDLER ]? [ SHE/HER ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TEN YEARS ]. they’re [ THIRTY-THREE ] yrs old and seem very [ INTELLIGENT]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ SNEAKY ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [CORD ALLEY SMUGGLER]. they often daydream about [ ABANDONED BUILDINGS ]. i’m curious to know more. | cory. central. she/her

full name: lucia raine chandler

nicknames: any and all especially if they make her laugh

loves (and offers to kiss) everyone no matter what they identify as (she loves them all the SAME)

qz's sexiest accent (confirmed by me) - yes a brit don't hold it against her

has been in the states since she was around 12ish

has lived in the qz for 10 years (so imma assume she knows damn near everyone ANYWAYS)

very charming and smooth talking (could talk her way out of any situation and HAS)

i have it in my head that she's never been caught during her smuggling (idk that could change hint hint nudge fedra hint hint nudge nudge)

she tryna bring back the barter system so she'll always trade the GOOD stuff for some GOOD other items

loves to laugh and joke around (you gotta in these trying times)

loves a good prank (prank sinatra if you will)

not a drinker, but loves to observe the drunks at the bar

absolutely fascinated with the stars/space she will always have a space fact ready to go (did you know that saturn's rings are 90% water??) no you didn't but lux did!!!

partakes in the devil's lettuce every now and again when she can get her hands on it (if ur character loves to smoke come see me NEOW)

she's got one of those auras that makes you drawn to her and she loves that about herself, very magnetic

she a lil goofy but when its time to be serious she's 85% there

loves to read, you can always find her with a book in her hand (and it's only about space like 66% of the time)

LOVES animals, has to be stopped from bringing back any form of life she finds on her trips

uhm smugglers you already know they're GANG so let's get some backstory going asap no rocky

the type who gets hurt but doesn't tell nobody until the music swells and the chips are down she will go until she passes tf out (ooo connection idea??)

idk my girl is so fun and lighthearted she tries her best

the best of us tbh

it's all chill until she gets pissed off and then well...good luck charlie

wanted connections

literally .. all of them

i need her in a rivalry with someone from fedra constantly but they're dead serious about it and she's just having a grand old time

besties

exes/flings/one night stands yall know the drill

again smugglers come talk to me bc like i said THEY'RE GANG THEY'RE FAMILY IDC WHATY YALL GOT GOING ON

we can brain storm something hurtful and wonderful LET'S GET IT DONE!!!

[storytellingbadger]

Time for some brutal honestly and self-reflection. Behold one of my many flaws.

I am easygoing in many aspects of real life. But in my kitchen, I turn into a biblical monster.

I develop irrational and all-consuming standards of perfection which make complete sense to me (and I hold myself to, I am not exempt!) but are wholly unfair to any poor unfortunate trying to help me. I can and often do end up sneakily and stealthily fixing whatever someone else has done without them noticing, because I don’t want to offend them. They’re only trying to help! (This includes my parent’s cooking, I’m so sorry. That generation of Brits who boil everything/cremate meat in the oven to fossil fuel need all the sneaky help they can get.)

It’s gotten bad enough that I get invited to other people’s parties and get put in the kitchen because people like my food, which is of course a great honour and privilege. Even people I don’t know all that well. This also unfairly irritates me because I’m supposed to be a guest and not hosting someone else’s party, but on the other hand… it’s better for everyone that I get banished to the kitchen like some kind of feral cooking Gollum. Those who know me well don’t mind… much. Those who don’t, I’m probably fixing whatever you just did when your back is turned. My bad.

In essence, it’s better for everyone if I get left the fuck alone when I’m cooking. I am the problem. I fuel other people’s cooking anxiety. It’s a self-fulfilling cycle and one of my many failings. On this one note, I am a terrible person and deserve no forgiveness. But the food I make is pretty decent and no one ever comes around my house and doesn’t get fed, so… dinner at mine?

if u choose other pls explain in the tags <3

[nativescontent2024]

Capturing consumer attention with 1.7-second storytelling

When was the last time you managed to concentrate on a book, movie, or TV show without getting distracted? Will you even make it to the end of this article without glancing at your phone or out the window? I certainly haven’t. I’m three lines in and have already checked my email twice and opened Instagram. But we needn’t feel bad about it; the evidence is clear—social media and its constant stream of content are completely rewiring our brains and shrinking our attention spans.

But while our brains are struggling to maintain focus, something they remain very good at is decision-making.

The saying “first impressions count” exists for a reason. When we experience someone or something new, we subconsciously decode those impressions very quickly—leading to the recognizable good or bad ‘vibe’ we get from a person or situation. All our lived experiences get applied in seconds. The same happens when we’re served content on social media: based on previous experience, will I be interested in this? First impressions absolutely count.

The real kicker for brands, particularly those working with a social media management agency or a creative agency London, is that on social platforms, this decision gets made in 1.7 seconds.

1.7 seconds. That’s how long our brains are willing to commit to deciding whether to watch or scroll past, meaning that’s how long brands have to capture the viewer’s attention.

The truth is, we’re growing impatient. The speed of the internet and the rate at which content is created, presented, and consumed have resulted in a populace accustomed to experiencing digital media instantly. If something doesn’t interest us immediately, our attention lapses, and we simply move on.

And it’s precisely this ability to ‘just move on’ that has, in part, created the problem. You might give a new TV show 15 minutes of your decision-making time because navigating back to the Netflix menu and choosing something else is a bigger barrier than the simple swipe-up TikTok, Instagram, Reddit, and Facebook offer us.

Consumers just aren’t willing to wait. Even a 100-millisecond delay in load time can decrease e-commerce conversion rates by up to 7%, while a two-second delay bumps this figure to 37%. In short, your audience doesn’t want to wait around for you to interest them, and neither should you.

So, you’ve ensured your content loads within 100 milliseconds; what can you do with the 1.7 seconds you now have to pique interest?

Some tricks are known to work—motion and human faces, for example, are much more likely to grab attention—but thumb-stopping content isn’t an exact science yet. There’s no universal recipe for success, much like guessing what will go viral. It’s simply too human to estimate.

A good starter, however, is to tell your story in reverse.

If consumers are unwilling to wait for the payoff, give it to them in the first 1.7 seconds of your content. It may seem counterintuitive to give the ending away up front, like delivering the punchline before the joke setup, but it keeps viewers watching. Ever wondered why we rewatch the same movie over and over? Humans love to know how things end—it’s comforting.

Seeing the payoff first makes consumers want to know how you got there, which isn’t a new concept. Look at shows like Dragons' Den or Made in Chelsea, where the “coming up” preface before each episode teases the best bits to keep you watching.

So, put a shot of the finished cake in before you start showing the baking process. Alternatively, you could try a hack some creators use: adding “watch till the end” text over their footage. It doesn’t tell you what’s coming, just that it’s going to be worth it. Sneaky.

With the average Brit estimated to see well over 5,000 ads per day, it’s more important than ever to create content that keeps people watching. If you’re new to social ads, a social media management agency or a creative agency London can help wipe the slate clean. While good creative is still good creative, TV ad formats with linear narratives will quickly stumble on social. Think of a traditional TV spot: there’s time to tell a whole story, reel viewers in, reveal the product, and finally the logo. On social, with just 1.7 seconds to keep scrollers engaged, this approach must be flipped on its head.

Get that short attention span and quick decision-making working for you. Tell the audience who you are (your logo or brand name) and why they should keep watching (the ending) as early in your spot as possible.

Social media advertising presents incredible opportunities, and with e-commerce influence rising every year, digital is the place to be.

Now is the time to experiment with these platforms and perfect the content you put out. The social landscape is ever-evolving, and the consumer’s attention is there for the taking. You just have to be the one to catch it.

[culturalcompasswarwick]

What we say vs what we mean

Hedging: the art of polite academic feedback & approaches to criticism

Picture this: you’re sitting in a seminar at the Oculus building. You’ve just turned in your essay on the impact of memes in the 21st century and your lecturer hands it back with a smile. You might expect to receive a compliment, but instead he says "I don't know if I mentioned this before, but …”; this phrase is like the British version of a polite ninja move, softening the blow of what might come next.

Why hedge?

When it comes to giving feedback in an academic setting, British culture often favours a more indirect approach. This is where hedging comes in handy, a politeness strategy often used to soften critique through a cautious use of language.

For instance, let’s say a classmate is reviewing your essay. Instead of bluntly saying “this section is unclear, change it” they might say:

“I wonder if this paragraph might benefit from a bit more clarity?”

This phrase not only sounds nicer but also invites discussion rather than shutting it down. It’s like saying “let’s have a chat about this” instead of just “you’re wrong”. Sometimes it’s so subtle you might think “do I really need to change anything?” (Spoiler alert: you definitely do).

Cultural contrast: a practical example

This, my friends, is the art of British hedging. It’s like you’re being gently guided so you don’t feel like a complete failure.

Now, let’s compare that to Italy. If you were studying there, your professor might scribble:

“Questo paragrafo non è chiaro, devi lavorarci ancora”

(“This paragraph is unclear; you need to work on it more.”)

No hedging there! As you’ve probably noticed, professors tend to cut straight to the chase, serving feedback like a strong espresso- both bold and invigorating.

But why the difference? Research shows that British hedging can leave students feeling confused, especially those used to direct feedback. At Warwick, however, lecturers prefer a collaborative approach. After all, they want you to succeed—and maybe help you avoid another existential crisis in the Breathing Space!

Hedging can be a way to make a confrontation feel less confrontational or it can make a critique sound less harsh like in the example earlier. Since Brits tend towards negative politeness and trying not to impose themselves on others, this also leads to them using more subtle ways to confront or bring up potentially confrontational topics, even if it can feel like they’re just beating around the bush.

The not-so-sneaky side of shopping: a cautionary tale

Now, onto the juicer topic: shoplifting. Let’s be crystal clear, we’re talking about intentional shoplifting here, which is absolutely NOT condoned anywhere, including at Warwick. Even if the prices in Rootes are extortionate.  But here’s where it gets interesting: the attitudes towards shoplifting can vary widely across cultures, leading to some eye-opening comparisons.

Navigating cultural differences: shoplifting in the UK vs in Italy

Shoplifting is viewed differently around the world, and understanding these differences is crucial for international students navigating life at Warwick. Let's take the UK and Italy (my home country as the author of this post) as an example. In both countries, shoplifting is a criminal offence. However, there are different reactions to it:

In the UK, shoplifting is taken very seriously. Get caught pinching that overpriced textbook and you’ll find yourself in more hot water than a tea bag at Curiositea. Nevertheless, this situation might unfold with a remarkably polite confrontation. A staff member might say:

“Excuse me, it looks like you may have forgotten to pay for this. Could we sort this out at the till?”

The emphasis on indirect language and assuming a mistake allows for a resolution without embarrassment.

In Italy, on the other hand, there's an old saying, “rubare poco è un vizio, rubare tanto è un mestiere” (“stealing a little is a vice, stealing a lot is a profession”). But don't get any ideas: the Italian police aren't known for their sense of humour about these things. In fact, shoplifting is dealt with in a much more direct way. For instance, a staff member might say:

“Hai preso questo articolo senza pagare. Devi restituirlo o pagarlo subito.”  (“You took this item without paying. You must return it or pay for it immediately.”)

This kind of approach exemplifies a high level of directness, which might be perceived as rude and aggressive by British people, but is actually a form of transparency.

As international students at Warwick, understanding these differences is crucial. It’s not just about avoiding awkward encounters; it’s about embracing the diversity of communication styles. A little cultural sensitivity goes a long way!

So how do I do it?

Since you’re studying at Warwick, native speakers of English may forget the potential cultural difference when it comes to the use of hedging and use it a lot with you since it’s so natural for them to do so. They may also misinterpret you if you hedge incorrectly as being impolite, arrogant or simply inappropriate. So you’re probably thinking: how the hell do I do this?

Whilst it’s not necessary to learn, it can definitely help and may be easier to learn a couple phrases that you can insert anywhere.

You might have a flatmate say, “we sort of have a few problems to talk about” even though you know they definitely have an issue with the fact their Smirnoff Ice has gone missing from the fridge. Words like probably, might, could and maybe come in clutch because they offer enough uncertainty and can make things feel less like fact. Phrases like “it seems like” or “I think” also have this effect even if you know something for a fact. A pro tip for hedging would be: if what you’ve said can’t be misconstrued in any way, you’re not doing it right. You can check out our other post on hedging in social situations for more help with that here!

Why is no one saying what they mean?!

It might seem almost like Brits are being fake with the apologising all the time (see here for more details on that) and now with hedging to confront but not confront. Negative politeness was mentioned earlier but what does it mean? And what does it have to do with British people and their fake niceties?

You probably think of politeness as actions such as saying “please” and “thank you” and being kind to others whereas negative politeness is actively trying not to get in the way of others or impose yourself on them. You might ask somebody for feedback on a formative essay and instead of simply saying, “this is really bad, this paragraph is terrible” they might say instead, “ I think it might be better if you develop the ideas from the lecture”. It might seem fake at first and you may  prefer that they just tell you in a more direct way how they think but this example of negative politeness is how this person is trying to help and in a way it is very direct feedback for those who are used to negative politeness. If you think of it as a code, then it can be pretty easy to decipher.

But what does this look like in practice?

Below are some phrases that you might have already heard and are very common (and thus very commonly misunderstood):

“ I think X might work better than Y” - X is definitely better than Y and in fact, Y is terrible.

“I’m not sure if I mentioned this before but..” -   I definitely mentioned this before but I’m repeating it again because you clearly ignored me or didn’t understand.

“She’s not the first person I’d call to go for a coffee with” - She’s not the first because she’s the last. In fact, I hate her.

“Sorry, I haven’t quite finished that thought” - Stop interrupting me.

“I don’t suppose you know where the WMG is, do you?” - Please show me the way to the WMG.

“Could you send me the powerpoint for the presentation, if you don’t mind?” - Send me the powerpoint regardless of if you’d like to or not.

“Could you help me out with this whenever you have time?” - Help me out at your earliest convenience.

“I’ve got quite a bit on my plate at the minute” - I don’t have the time at all, don’t ask me to do anything else. Hopefully these phrases have helped you out and you can use them during your time at Warwick! - Please use these phrases as they took a lot of time compiling.

[collapseqz]

[ EMILIA CLARKE ] – have you heard about [LUCIA “LUX” CHANDLER ]? [ SHE/HER ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ TEN YEARS ]. they’re [ THIRTY-THREE ] yrs old and seem very [ INTELLIGENT]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ SNEAKY ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [RADIO OPERATOR]. they often daydream about [ HIKING ACROSS THE COUNTY (IN IT'S PRIME) ]. i’m curious to know more. | cory. central. she/her

lux musings I lux in pictures

full name: lucia raine chandler

nicknames: any and all especially if they make her laugh

loves (and offers to kiss) everyone no matter what they identify as (she loves them all the SAME)

qz’s sexiest accent (confirmed by me) - yes a brit don’t hold it against her

has been in the states since she was around 12ish

has lived in the qz for 10 years (so imma assume she knows damn near everyone ANYWAYS)

very charming and smooth talking (could talk her way out of any situation and HAS)

she tryna bring back the barter system so she’ll always trade the GOOD stuff for some GOOD other items

loves to laugh and joke around (you gotta in these trying times)

loves a good prank (prank sinatra if you will)

not a drinker, but loves to observe the drunks at the bar

absolutely fascinated with the stars/space she will always have a space fact ready to go (did you know that saturn’s rings are 90% water??) no you didn’t but lux did!!!

partakes in the devil’s lettuce every now and again when she can get her hands on it (if ur character loves to smoke come see me NEOW)

she’s got one of those auras that makes you drawn to her and she loves that about herself, very magnetic

she a lil goofy but when its time to be serious she’s 85% there

loves to read, you can always find her with a book in her hand (and it’s only about space like 66% of the time)

LOVES animals, she a farmer at heart frfr

the type who gets hurt but doesn’t tell nobody until the music swells and the chips are down she will go until she passes tf out (ooo connection idea??)

idk my girl is so fun and lighthearted she tries her best

the best of us tbh

it’s all chill until she gets pissed off and then well…good luck charlie

wanted connections

literally .. all of them

i need her in a rivalry with someone from fedra constantly but they’re dead serious about it and she’s just having a grand old time

besties

exes/flings/one night stands yall know the drill

we can brain storm something hurtful and wonderful LET’S GET IT DONE!!!

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Republican Judo

There’s this phenomenon I’ve seen in bigoted videos a couple times because apparently Youtube thinks I want to watch bigoted videos. I literally tell it “don’t recommend this channel” and eventually it finds me another bigot.

Not the point.

The technique is simple. You bring on a liberal with a less nuanced talking point, and then you shoot down their overreach and make them look stupid.

These videos are then titled, like, “Woke Liberal Destroyed by FACTS and LOGIC.”

The problem, of course, is it’s not a big overreach. Unlike, say, the comments section under the same video.

Because the nuance-short liberal says “white people are the most violent and oppressive people ever” and the British (of course he is) reporter is like, “I feel like the Chinese people and the wars they waged for centuries before encountering any white people may have something to say about that” and then

and then

the comments section is like, “Yeah, stupid liberal believing other races have it worse than white people.”

And it’s like, FIRST of all, this Brit didn’t even fucking counter her point. Because she didn’t say white people were the ONLY violent people. And even if he could somehow bring enough evidence to bear that someone else had at some point in history borne the title of Greatest Monster that wouldn’t prove anything about the current state of affairs. Should she have framed thing around whites-as-worst? Probably not. It’s clear racial prejudice and hard to prove. And besides that the systems are on average more racist than the people inside them. You don’t have as much of a “racist fish” problem as a “racist water” and “racist shape of aquarium” problem, and you’ll do better getting racism out of the system by going after those.

Agh, still not the point.

The point is to watch out for this fucking technique and not be fooled by it. It’s a sneaky kind of straw man, because the straw man in question is earnest and doesn’t know they’re being used that way in the narrative. But they will absolutely be framed as an idiot, and depending on how much editing the show can do between discussion and release the counterpoint might convince people that something’s wrong with their entire cause - that is, “fighting against racism” - or at least provide further comfort and security to people who were already racist that they definitely don’t need to rethink things when they’re challenged on their views. That one British reporter guy was challenged on racism and he schooled that stupid liberal, after all! It was all over the telly!

[starhunter21]

One thing that was really funny to me about pickman’s model was when William’s Massachusetts accent completely disappeared when he said “You were embarrassed? You were fawning over him like a school girl” Like that was full on Ben Barnes and for a full second I was just sitting there like- how did nobody catch that

[smuttaburger]

Daddy’s Kitten- Amber/Andy Biersack

Summary: After the Hit List Reveal goes south, Andy needs to make it up to his wife. But what happens when Amber decides to be a brat to her already jealous husband?

Read part 1 here

Warnings: Smut ahead, mature language, Dom/Sub, and orgasm denial

Walking back into the room, she could see that her husband wanted to apologize but she wasn’t hearing any of it.

Not when he’d been an ass.

Climbing into bed and turning off the side table lamp, she rolled onto her side facing the wall. Andy followed his wife’s lead and traced his fingers gently over her White Rabbit tattoo on her shoulder.

“Kitten…” no answer.

“Baby…” no answer.

“Mommy…” Without warning, Amber flipped over onto her back.

There we go. He thought

“What?” She hissed. There was a part of her, the one affected by the booze, that wanted her body to be ravished by the gorgeous man lying next to her.

But the sober part contemplated sleeping on her Aunt Taylor’s super comfy and plush couch in the living room.

It was one of those where if you weren’t careful, it would envelop you into an embrace.

“Daddy’s been bad, let me make it up to you,” Andy’s deep voice was even deeper, huskier, and dripping with sex.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” She asked and Andy smirked before straddling her, pressing ghosts of kisses across his wife’s tanned skin.

“Let me show you,” he whispered in her ear, his bottom lip running along the outer shell of her ear. At the sensation, Amber’s drunk brain won the battle. A soft moan left her lips.

“There we go... That’s more like it. I love hearing your sexy little moans for me,” he took her earlobe between his teeth and Amber felt heat travel through her body, pooling at her center.

Andy crawled down the bed, pressing kisses to his wife’s finally flat stomach.

“I really miss you being pregnant. Knowing that I filled you to the brim and you’re carrying my baby. Sexy as fuck,” he growled and ripped her sleep shorts down her long legs, only to reveal a sneaky little secret.

“Oh mommy, you’ve been naughty,” a smirk fell over Andy’s full lips.

“You’re not wearing any panties for Daddy,” his smirk deepened.

“Perfect,” he began his trek towards his wife’s dripping heat and Amber pulled Andy’s pillow over her face as her back arched off the bed.

The pillow being over her face made it worse though.

The smell of her husband’s cologne mixed with his scent and now the smell of sex made the Greek woman heady.

A moan left her lips as Andy began the assault on her core that begged for him.

“Take that pillow off your face,” Andy demanded, his dominant nature coming through.

“Andy. Aunt Taylor, Brit, and I just got the kids back to bed,” Amber argued. Andy lifted himself off his wife with an audible pop. Her juices already coating his pink lips.

“Did I ask you? Take. It. Off.” He demanded and Amber noticed the change in her husband. She didn’t argue, just removed the pillow from her face. Her head moved to the side to make sure the door was locked.

The last thing they needed was one of their kids walking in on them. Because with Andy’s demeanor, there was no telling how long he was planning on fucking his wife’s brains out.

“Are you jealous Andrew?” Amber asked, testing her husband, an eyebrow hitched.

“What did you just call me?” He asked her, his hand ghosting over her core.

“Are you jealous. Andrew.” She made sure to punctuate her husband’s full name.

“That’s what I thought you said, Kitten. Give me those hands,” he demanded.

“And what if I don’t?” Amber tested further.

“You’re going to disobey me?” He lifted himself so he towered over her, all of his weight on his forearms.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Amber’s voice took on a sultry tone of its own.

“Alright kitten,” he grasped her hands that she was running down his chest into one of his palms and pulling it up to the headboard, holding them there while he rummaged through the side table for something.

“Here they are,” He smirked and lifted up the hand restraints that they used last night.

“You planning on using them on yourself Andrew?” Amber asked. Once her hands were restrained, he grabbed her chin with one of his hands and pulled her lips to his. The taste of her on his lips made her moan in his mouth.

“Keep using my full name, and that’s one more punishment. Understand?” he threatened, knowing what game his wife was playing.

The two had been together long enough for Andy to know her tricks.

“Yes,”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes Andrew,” Amber smirked and Andy grabbed her chin again.

“One more kitten,” he told her before climbing down his wife’s body, pressing biting kisses down her body as he went.

“F-Fuck,” Amber stammered as her husband continued to abuse her heat with his mouth. As he could feel her approach release, he’d stop without warning.

“Daddy,” Amber moaned.

“That’s one,” he told her, letting her body come down from the beginning of her high before beginning his pace again.

“Daddy,” Amber moaned out, her hands grasping the bedsheets as Andy’s long fingers curled inside her, hitting her g-spot. Enough for stars to dance across her vision.

“I’m gonna- HEY!” Amber whispered, wanting to keep her voice down as much as possible as her husband stopped abruptly.

“That’s two,” he remarked with a smirk.

“What’s my name?” He asked her, letting her cool down.

“Daddy,” she moaned and her body arched up as if she was held on her torso by a string.

“That’s better baby girl,” he smirked and pressed his lips to hers.

The taste of herself on his lips made her gasp again, bringing one of her legs to hook around his waist as he played with her clit.

“Daddy,” she moaned and his smirk grew.

“A little louder for me kitten,” he breathed against her ear.

“Daddy,” she whimpered and Andy smiled.

“That’s my girl. Now since you’ve been good with the restraints, daddy’s gonna take them off,” he told her unlocking the cuffs and the second the cuffs gave way, Amber grasped his jet black locks between her fingers and tugged, pulling his lips to hers.

“I’m gonna give you what you want, Kitten. You just have to answer one question for me,”

“Anything,” she breathed, feeling her body inch closer to her orgasm.

“Whose pussy is this?” He growled.

“D-Daddy’s,” she moaned loudly as her orgasm hit her like a bullet train.

Hard and Fast.

“Oh I’m not done with you yet baby girl,” he smirked, pressing kisses to her neck and biting. She was about to have a NASTY hickey there in the morning. But that’s future Amber and Andy’s problem

Taglist

@youlightmeupfinn

@buckysimp101

@kata1803

@midsummereve1993

@hallecarey1

[atfisty]

Ok but alot of people are acting like mike and brit sat with Kyle and just actively called the PoC of the house every slur in the book.

It may be performative, it may be sneaky or underhanded, but the fact is out of all the white houseguests. And out every single member of production the only two people doing anything about kkkyle’s racist behavior are those two.

[panelshowsource]

then this one is dedicated to u anons ❤️❤️❤️

LMAO listen... it’s for a niche audience but that audience is DEDICATED aka the summary of this blog. i don’t know if people see it and unfollow purely because of the inconvenience having to scroll through the whole damn thing (it is tagged #longpost...) or because they find it cringey but — they’re missing out. phil wang IS hot whether they want to admit it or not!!!

when i reblog the thirst post, i always lose 50–100 followers 😅 the asks posts cost me a handful of followers as well, but i’m not too worried about that! i can’t skimp on these and leave you guys hanging, and i’m sure those fussy people wouldn’t like it if i was spamming individual asks 10 times a day either. you just can’t please everyone! UNLESS...you’re david mitchell. he unites us all 😌 (don’t worry i’ll get the thirst prepared — send it in now if you wanna be in this quarter’s reblog! hehehe)

if there’s one thing about my followers it’s that they have OPINIONS [taskmaster s10 discourse flashbacks]...

...and if there’s another thing about my followers it’s that too much joe wilkinson content maaay have stolen a couple of their braincells ✋

the amount of ya’ll who asked me to do this!!! shady!!! LMAO listen..if u have the goss, stop by my inbox...trust me with your secrets...

re: giles i only saw the shitstorm on twitter and but i cackled alone in my room for about an hour

first of all i don’t know whether i should laugh or cry at this but since it’s his comedy PERSONA i won’t take it personally!!! hehe~ second of all this is very unrelated and probably inconsequential to you being a brit or aussie or kiwi (i’m just peeping “mum”) but my company distributes midsomer murderers in the usa so if any yanks reading this wanna go stream that on amazon prime then ya girl might get a bigger holiday bonus this year just saying~~~~~

i see u sneaky snek 👀 we’ve definitely been robbed of the sweet, sweet david mitchell content that could have been from more series of the bubble and was it something i said. the thing is, panel shows live and die by their casts & group chemistry. shows like big fat quiz and have i got news for you are both bog standard ass quiz shows with no particularly unique or engaging qualities outside of their roster of personalities. why, then, is big fat quiz so much better than hignfy, you know? if i don’t take the formats into much consideration, then it just comes down to shows led by comedians i personally like. BUT...you know...i do like to believe i have some taste...so 💅 i’d tentatively suggest comedy world cup, you have been watching, and argumental as those that either died too soon and/or might thrive were they resurrected. the first two because i think david tennant and charlie brooker are stellar hosts and i miss seeing their lil faces on the reg, and the third because the format of the show really lends itself to some hilarious dynamics — almost like taskmaster, the comedians are forced to heavily interact and it was one of the only panel shows with a serious teasing dynamic that didn’t turn particularly ugly, which i know many of you aren’t big fans of the way old-generation panel show fans were/are. (god, remember how fucking mean panel shows used to be lmaooooOOOO) there are “debate”-type shows like hypothetical, but argumental was...chaotic, especially with king of chaotic evil panel show menaces sean lock at the helm. do know what i mean? it would be wild to see argumental with today’s comedians, i think. worst? eep... why do i keep saying i won’t answer questions like this and then do anyways? 🤡 personally, a league of their own is borderline unwatchable to me despite the panel having perfectly decent chemistry, and hignfy either needs an entire reboot à la buzzcocks or...retirement. ya’ll probably get me. anyways bring back charlie brooker!! [bangs pots and pans]

IF THEY HAVE EYES, YEAH.............

to wrap up the shade in this ask post (lmaooo), i actually got quite a few anons about lou sanders, a...controversial character. but i’m so happy you enjoyed the show!! i think the format is wonky and the editing doesn’t do it any favours — i’m not really sure why it had this forced bake off-inspired pleasantness about it — but it ended up being delightful casual viewing. especially with the advent of jess & jamali as a newfound power couple. who would have thought! as for your question... none that strongly, i don’t think? just general preferences seeing a comedian on one show over the other, like, for example, finding aisling borderline unfunny on 8oo10c meanwhile being a delight on taskmaster. it’s very true how different formats suit different comedians! i was actually just thinking about that re: sara pascoe, who is so great on new world order. (the new season of nwo btw omggg why is every line a goldmine! oh wait, i know why!! frankie!!)

do we need to start mass-tweeting at richard osman again? i wear i have about 40 bones to pick with that man, he needs to start answering my phone calls

honestly, yeah. i mean, i know what you mean, speaking as someone who’s on the receiving end of a lot of panel show excitement/reaction. but ofc i only feel this way when i believe someone to be...overrated. which, you know, i feel from time to time, being a human being with opinions and all hehe~ 😅 last time it happened on taskmaster for me was probably s7? a fun season with some fun people, but james acaster was not the standout personality on that series. in fact, not even top 3. rhod, phil, and jessica consistently had better jokes, better banter, better dynamics with greg and alex, better moments every episode, but 80% of my inbox was about acaster. but what can i do? when you’re a huge fan of someone, you think even the way they laugh at other, funnier comedians’ jokes is funny, and that becomes part of their entertainment value in your mind. i do it with victoria every week, who i don’t think many other people would consider the standout personality of the series thus far (if you have an opinion on this, send it in!! i’m curious...). so i don’t want to be a hypocrite, but at the same time....i am a lil but huh 🤪 anyways look how cute victoria is here 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

I CAN’T STAND SOME OF YOU LMAOOOOO ...see you in LA later this month

um pls send stephen mangan recs? I ABSOLUTELY CAN PICTURE JACK DEE ON TASKMASTER but you know what i feel like the older, cynical contestants like jo brand just don’t land with my followers as much as others, so i don’t know if anyone else would want him there :(

james “uber-liberal” carr

WAIT SHOULD WE DO AN ALAN DAVIES APPRECIATION POST AFTER THE SERIES ENDS ;_____; i really need an excuse to make compilation-style gifsets like this of a bunch of different comedians. it might be time to bring the polls back...

aw anon ♡♡♡ i will keep this in mind and try to do my best with the fonts & text! i’m always experimenting because i’m never happy about it, but i’ll make sure to keep it legible even when it’s ugly ♡

—

F.A.Q. // Tags // Ask

[acnelli]

Bearded Glory

I finally found the time to put my one-shots on Tumblr too. I wrote this one for @hillyminne who organised and still organises these lovely hangouts. Here’s the masterpost with all the fun and lovely things which had been created as a thank you for Hilly <3 I would also like to thank @manny-bgm and @abradystrix for beta-reading and Brit-picking this story. You might detect some things inspired by Hilly’s art and @rijsamurai‘s Auror Ron.

When Ron came back from Auror training, Hermione found herself being quite fond of a certain change in Ron's appearance.

This story is also available on FFN and AO3.

Two bloody years finally over, Ron thought, as he robbed through thick, cold mud, already able to make out the finish line, which should be not even a mile away, according to Ron’s calculations.

Through the splashing and gurgling of their muddy underground, Ron could make out Harry’s heavy breathing and the occasional swear word from somewhere behind him. “Just one more mile, mate.”, Ron shouted, craning his neck towards his friend, almost hitting his head on a tree trunk above him. “One mile and we’re done with this shite.” Harry didn’t bother to answer as he was quite busy to ignore the burn in his lungs.

As Ron reached the end of their last obstacle, he leaped up from the ground, trying to get a footing with all the muddy water in his shoes. Not an easy task, since the ground was slippery and a fountain of water made its way down from his hair and drenched clothes. Careful to not lose his trainers, he ran towards the finish line with wobbly legs and what seemed to be a thousand tiny needles attacking his lungs. With a slight jump, and something between a groan and a cry of relief, he finally made it, immediately breaking down onto the ground.

“Well done, my boys.”, a chipper female voice broke through Ron’s awareness, though it honestly surprised him he heard it in the first place, considering he was wheezing his lungs out.

“Elly…please.”, Harry groaned, who must have collapsed beside him just a few seconds ago. Ron couldn’t tell for sure though, since he still tried not to pass out. “I…Just go away.”, his best mate demanded between heavy breaths. Ron only gave an agreeing grunt. Elly, their mentor and trainer for the last two years of Auror training, just laughed, kneeling between Harry and Ron, smiling down at them.

“You did it.”, she sang completely out of tune, while giving both men what probably should’ve been an encouraging pat on the knee. Although Ron and Harry yelped in pain from this pat on their scraped skin, and were still being unable to move a muscle, Elly stood up, clapped her hands and demanded of them to stand up.

“We just have an hour until you leave for home, and you will certainly not take this Portkey until I have a proper picture with my two accomplishments,” the young witch stated, hands on her hips, but still that annoying smirk in place.

Ron and Harry knew better than to argue with her about that. Truth be told, they didn’t have a problem with this particular picture, since they both wanted to have a reminder of the day that marked the ending of both the most annoying, but also the greatest two years of their lives.

“Alright, alright.”, Ron sighed, trying to muster up the little energy he got left to stand up, reaching his hand out to Harry, who did the same. With the two men standing in an upright position again, Elly gave them both one of her famous bear hugs, while telling her trainees how proud she was of them. Despite the still aching muscles and side stiches from hell, they returned the hug in earnest, while only just realizing that this was the start of a whole new adventure.

“We could’ve never done this without you.”, Ron smiled at Elly. “But you surely could’ve warned us about this last run, as you liked to call it. Honestly, we could’ve died or something.”

“You Gryffindors sure have a tendency to exaggerate, haven’t you?”

“I rather think you Hufflepuffs have a tendency to underplay,” Harry countered, cleaning his glasses.

“Said it before and I’ll say it again, you Hufflepuffs are barmy,” Ron said with a playful voice. “Before you drag us off to brag about us, where are the showers, woman?”

************

After taking a well-deserved shower, Harry and Ron changed into their formal Auror robes. And not their everyday work attire either, but the fancy black robes, which Elly insisted them on wearing. The two friends were both secretly happy to parade these around, since they looked bloody good in them.

Two years of Auror training lay behind them, and Ron was torn between feeling relieved and strangely sad. Those last four months happened to be their final Boot Camp, as Elly liked to call it, which mainly consisted of training for their Auror test. Due to the painful shortage of staff in the Auror Office, their training got shortened to two years, making it much more intense as a result. This last run though wasn’t part of the test, but nothing less than an Auror training tradition, so of course, it had to be done, much to the young men’s dismay.

“I have to admit…I kind of like this.”, Ron mused, running his hand over his beard, as he watched his reflection in one of the mirrors of the changing room.

“Suits you quite well, mate.”, Harry said, as he closed the last silver button on his cloak.

Neither of them had bothered to properly shave this last four months. Their days usually consisted of waking up, training and learning all day, and sleeping as soon their heads hit the pillow. As a result, they both looked quite wild in the end, hair and beard much longer than usual. Of course, Elly wouldn’t have any of this, so she had given Ron and Harry a complete make-over the day before their test, ignoring their protests all together. As it turned out, she happened to be quite talented with beauty charms, so they didn’t exactly hate the way they looked now. Even though Ron usually never let his facial hair grow beyond some three-day stubble, Elly surprised him with only trimming his unruly beard, leaving it just well-groomed.

“Come on, let’s get this picture, and then we can finally leave for good.” Harry suggested. So, they both gathered their wands and made their way towards the rest of their group.

After what seemed to be a thousand blinding flashes, Elly had been satisfied with the result, promising them to send copies of the pictures as soon as possible.

Harry and Ron were ready to take the Portkey home, saying goodbye to everyone and promising to make it on time for the official festivities next weekend.

In all the hustle to get the Portkey on time, Ron completely missed the mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes.

************

Hermione tried not to stare. Actually, she figured that she never tried harder to not look at Ron. Of course, she failed spectacularly.

Harry, you sneaky little monster., Hermione thought, sending one of her death glares his way, which he successfully didn’t notice all evening.

That bloody picture was my undoing, really. And Harry is well aware of that, isn’t he?

Around midday, a couple of hours before Ron and Harry came back from their last day of Auror training, Harry’s owl Athena arrived at her parents’ home, delivering a small envelope. After taking the letter, she fed the exhausted bird some treats, and let her relax in her room for a while. She came all the way from the Isle of Skye after all.

What was so important that Harry couldn’t tell her in person tonight? As she opened the white envelope, there was just a single photograph falling out. She picked it up from the floor, reading the note on the back of it first.

Dear Hermione,

thought you might appreciate this picture Elly took of Ron, minutes before his wandless magic demonstration. Honestly, look at him Hermione…you got some fine ginger snack coming back to you.

See you later,

 Harry

As she turned over the picture, she couldn’t help but agree. Ron clearly hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t cared that Elly took pictures of him, as he looked concentrated and nervous. His eyebrows knit, and eyes slightly narrowed, he held up his right hand, obviously practicing the lightning charm, as lightning bolts evolved from his half-closed fist.

This alone could’ve resulted in Hermione starring at this picture forever, but what really got her obsessing over it, had been Ron’s beard.

Ron with a beard. An actual beard. And by all that’s holy, he looked so incredibly good with it.

Merlin, she already had been more than a little frustrated the last four months, not being able to see him. Of course, this hadn’t been the first time they were separated for so long, but this last training session sure felt torturously like forever. Seeing a bearded Ron, illuminated by lightning, looking highly dangerous, made her want to take Ron right up to Grimmauld Place, skipping the dinner Mrs. Weasley was hosting tonight, and just snog him senseless. Naturally this wasn’t possible, so here she was, trying to get her thoughts under control.

Hermione swore to herself to never talk to Harry again about Ron, drunk or otherwise.

 Just before Harry and Ron were leaving for Auror training, the three of them met up with the old D.A. members. While Ron still had been busy with one of Seamus’ famous drinking games, being the only one of the Trio to still keep up with it, Hermione confided in Harry that she wished for Ron to grow a beard.

“I love his stubble, but I’m sure he would look quite sexy with his beard a little longer.”, she had told Harry.

He looked at her funny for a second, before breaking out in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”, she asked angrily, since Harry seemed to be unable to stop.

After several minutes of Harry trying to control himself, and Hermione getting more and more annoyed, Harry was able to speak again. “You know, I just had that thought.”, he whispered, clearly still trying not to laugh. “Since you obviously have a thing for bearded men, I wonder how you could control yourself around Hagrid.” Another fit of laughter broke out, but it didn’t stop him from wheezing out “Or Dumbledore.” That was Harry’s undoing then, because after that, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore, and already got himself a nasty side stich from all the laughing.

Needless to say, that Hermione ended this conversation right then and there.

Of course, Harry hadn’t forgotten about Hermione’s little confession, and decided to send her a tease right before she would see Ron again.

Would it be too obvious to pretend a stomach ache at this point?

As Hermione mused about the possibilities to sneak away with Ron, she stole another glance at him, only to discover that brilliant blue eyes stared right back at her. His eyes happened to have this certain glint, which always meant he was up to something. Hermione sincerely hoped it would include leaving early tonight.

After what seemed like forever, Ron finally beat Ginny in a mean game of Wizard’s Chess.

Although still being quite impatient to get home, Hermione put the time to good use in unashamedly ogling Ron, her former intends not to stare long forgotten.

“Finally, some decent competition again. I got bored out of my mind only playing against Harry and Elly the last four months”, Ron said while pulling Hermione onto his lap. He loosely slang an arm around her waist, and Hermione immediately leaned into him, feeling all warm and cosy as she started to trace his brain scars with her fingers. Merlin, she really missed him.

“I’m still better than Elly though”, Harry pointed out, helping Ginny to put the chess set away. “So, I guess Ginny and I call it a night then. Are you sure your bed is large enough for the both of us?”

“I admit that you got yourself some fine definition being away, but you didn’t exactly gain a ton of muscle, Harry. You’ll fit”, Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, which Harry answered with an eyeroll.

“Maybe that had been the polite way to say you got fat over the last couple of months.”, Ron offered Ginny another explanation, earning himself a blow to his shoulder.

“You better stop being cheeky, if you want Grimmauld Place to yourself tonight.”, his sister countered.

“Wait, what?”, Hermione asked Harry. “You’re not staying at Grimmauld Place?”

“Nope. Ginny and I are kipping at the Burrow tonight. The house is all yours, under the condition to have it to ourselves tomorrow.”, Harry clarified.

Hermione couldn’t hold back her grin as she looked up at Ron. These are fantastic news.

“That’s very…considerate of you, thank you.”, Hermione smiled at Ginny and Harry, which made Ron bark out a laugh.

“Yes, thank you Harry.”, the red-head said. “As you did this out of pure nobleness and chivalry, and certainly not because you lost to me tossing a coin.”

************

“So…after you won the house for us, what are your plans?”, Hermione murmured between kisses, her hands busy with Ron’s beard.

Ron gave her his trademark lopsided grin as he hoisted Hermione up in his arms, eliciting a surprised squeal from her.

“Well, what do you think about a long, nice bath for a start?”, Ron asked while carrying her up the flights towards the bathroom. “It had been an awful long time since we had one together.”

“True that. As long as it doesn’t make us too drowsy for some…night-time activities.”

“You know, it’s adorable that proper Ms. Granger still can’t say bad words.”, Ron laughed, kissing her reddening cheek.

“I can say bad words, you just wait.” Hermione tried to put up a glare, but failed due to the smile she just couldn’t put off her face.

“I’ll take you up on it.”, Ron said, sitting her down on the edge of the bathtub. With a flick of his wand he began to fill the tub with hot, soapy water, which gave the room a rich scent of pine needles and something delicious Hermione couldn’t quite place.

A few minutes later, she leaned against Ron’s chest, completely relaxed and ridiculously happy. Hermione enjoyed the vibration of his chest as they talked about Hermione’s last project at work and about Ron’s plans regarding the Auror department. Every now and then, Hermione reached up to stroke his beard, and if Ron noticed her sudden interest with his gin and cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright, enough about work. This is supposed to be romantic.”, Ron laughed, slightly tightening his grip around her middle. “Should’ve lit some candles.”

Hermione giggled as she wiggled out a little of Ron’s embrace to grab her wand, intending to light the chandelier behind them. Just as she freed her wand from the pile of clothes beside the bathtub though, something else fell out.

“Oi, that’s me!” Ron quickly snatched the picture up from the ground and settled back into his prior position in the bathtub. Hermione tried to hide her blush behind her hair, as Ron read Harry’s note on the back of the photo. Something between smugness and embarrassment appeared on his face, and the longer he looked at Hermione, the more it seems to become smugness.

“Do you like my beard, Hermione?”, Ron asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, as he put his arms around her again, pulling her against his chest.

“I might have told Harry that a beard would look good on you.”, Hermione sighed, and forgot about her embarrassment, when Ron started to kiss the side of her neck. “And he obviously didn’t forget about it.”

Ron caressed her cheek to turn her head towards him. He gave her a long, heated kiss that left Hermione breathless, before retreating again, looking at her with a huge grin on his freckled face. Before Hermione could snog the smug grin away, Ron had to say one more thing.

“Well, feel free to enjoy it. All this Bearded Glory.”