#deadline is in like. about a week and lets be real without her help is get started on the day of💀

[dyke-mecha]

Friend is helping me work on the report from my torment nexus internship. Literally sick to my stomach!!!!!!!

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.9

Chapter Nine: The Silver Lining's I'll Be There With You

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Heavy Overthinking, Cecilia deserves her own warning lol, Confrontation,

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: SOOO… lol, this is the longest I’ve gone without writing/posting, I deeply apologise and I’m so sorry T^T I literally had to lock the fuck in with school, each week I had at least two exams/deadlines. I blame our profs for their poor planning lol. Anyways, I have a little bit of a lighter load now since it’s almost finals season… I’ll keep ya’ll posted, and I humbly ask ya’ll to be patient for the next update and oh god, TLOU season 2… Uneven Odds… My backlog is insane right now, oh naur. Pedro babes I love you, but go on vacation boo. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Silver Lining by Laufey

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS, LONDON — MORNING

You were hella nervous. Pedro held your hand the entire car ride to the studio, his thumb softly brushing over your knuckles, grounding you even as your stomach twisted itself into knots.

"You're quiet," he murmured, watching you from the corner of his eye. "You okay, baby?"

You forced a smile. "Yeah. Just… y’know. Nervous."

"About what?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "I dunno. Just… going back on set. Seeing everyone. After, y'know…"

The accident.

Pedro squeezed your hand tighter. His jaw clenched, and you could tell — he was still haunted by it too. The way you had thrown yourself in front of him. The way he had watched you collapse under the rig. The way he had screamed for help — like his entire world was falling apart.

"Hey." His voice was soft. "I'm not leaving your side, okay? The second you wanna leave — we leave. I don't care what anyone says."

And you believed him. God, you did. But there was still this gnawing pit in your stomach. Something you couldn't shake.

Because something still didn't make sense.

The rig was never supposed to fall like that.

The air in the studio felt wrong the moment you stepped inside.

Too still. Too watchful.

The crew was polite — too polite — but cagey. Their gazes flitted toward you, then away. Conversations hushed behind clipboards. Even your supervisor couldn’t meet your eyes. Something was off.

And Pedro… he never let go of your hand.

“Hey.” His thumb brushed against your knuckles, voice low. “You okay?”

You weren’t sure. Your stomach coiled, dread sinking deep into your bones. “Yeah. Just—”

“—Glad you could make it,” a voice interrupted.

You both turned.

Rob, the production’s safety manager, stood stiffly at the entrance. His face was a heavy mask of professionalism, but his eyes… there was something hard in them.

“Rob?” Pedro said, stepping forward slightly. “What’s going on?”

Rob’s jaw flexed. “We need to speak with you both. Privately.”

Your stomach flipped. “Both of us?”

A beat of hesitation. “Yes. It’s regarding the rig accident.”

Pedro’s grip on your hand tightened.

The meeting room was small and clinical. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing the walls in a cold, sterile glow. A long table stretched across the center, surrounded by a few empty chairs — and at the end of it, a large television screen.

You sat next to Pedro. His knee pressed against yours, grounding you — or maybe grounding himself.

“What’s going on?” you finally managed, trying to sound casual despite the dread in your throat.

Rob didn’t answer immediately. He set his clipboard down and exhaled heavily, gaze flicking between you and Pedro. We reviewed the footage from the accident. We also conducted a full inspection of the rig.”

Your chest tightened. “And?”

Rob hesitated, his throat working. “We found something.”

Silence dropped like a hammer. Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“What did you find?” Pedro’s voice was tight, protective.

Rob didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed a remote and clicked it. The television flickered to life.

And there it was.

The accident.

Your throat closed.

You watched yourself on the screen — laughing softly as you secured the cast into their harnesses. Pedro stood beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he said something that made you smile. The light rig swayed subtly above you, unnoticed.

And then—

It happened.

The exact moment the rig detached.

A sharp, metallic snap. Your body jolted, instinctively pushing Pedro out of the way as the light came crashing down.

Your mouth ran dry. Every muscle in your body seized.

“Wait—pause it,” Pedro rasped, his voice cracking. “Right there.”

Rob froze the footage. Pedro shot to his feet, pointing at the corner of the screen. “Zoom in.”

The image expanded.

And there — in the background — was someone.

Half-hidden behind a metal panel. But unmistakable.

“Cecilia,” you whispered, ice flooding your veins.

Pedro went rigid beside you. “What the fuck—”

She was watching you. Her gaze locked solely on you. And then — her hand moved.

A deliberate pull.

And that’s when the rig snapped.

“No.” Pedro’s voice broke, his entire body jerking back as though burned. “No — she—” His hand raked through his hair. “She did that on fucking purpose.”

You couldn’t breathe. “Why—why would she—”

And then Rob’s voice cut through. Low. Grave.

“…She wasn’t trying to kill Mr. Pascal.”

The room dropped into an unbearable silence.

Your head snapped toward Rob. “���What?”

Rob’s throat worked. “The investigation revealed the rig was deliberately tampered with during your lunch break. Cecilia was on set when no one else was. We believe she… adjusted the release on the rig.”

Your entire body went cold. “But it didn’t fall on me,” you rasped. “It— it almost hit him—”

“Because the timing was off.” Rob’s voice was heavy. “…It was meant to fall when you returned. She was waiting for you to get under it.”

Pedro’s hands were shaking. “You’re saying—”

“She was trying to kill her,” Rob confirmed grimly. “And when it didn’t happen — she didn’t react. She just… watched.”

Your stomach lurched.

Pedro stumbled back a step, his face ashen. “Where the fuck is she?” he demanded, voice raw.

“We have her in a separate room. Security’s questioning her now.”

Rob’s words sat heavy in the air.  

The room was suffocating. You could hear the hum of the air conditioner, the faint chatter from outside the closed door, the scratch of Rob’s pen against his clipboard. Everything felt too loud and too quiet at the same time.  

You exhaled slowly, trying to ground yourself.  

"I know she and I don’t get along…” you started, your voice unsteady. “But this is a lot.”  

Pedro’s head snapped toward you. His eyes—wide, dark, still brimming with the horror of what he just saw—searched yours like he couldn’t believe you were saying that.  

“A lot?” he repeated, voice tight. “A lot?”  

You swallowed.  

“Pedro, I—”  

“No.” He let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his curls before gripping the back of his neck, his whole body strung tight with barely restrained fury. “She tried to fucking kill you. And you’re standing here acting like it’s just—what? Office drama?”  

Your stomach twisted. “That’s not—”  

“No,” he cut you off, stepping closer. “She planned this, waited for the right moment, rigged that thing to fall exactly when you’d be standing there—” He sucked in a shaky breath. “She watched it happen.”  

The words made your blood run cold.  

Because he was right.  

She had watched. You’d seen it in the footage—the way her head barely moved as the rig came loose, how she didn’t even flinch when it nearly crushed Pedro.  

If anything… it had almost looked like satisfaction.  

A chill ran down your spine.  

Pedro saw your expression shift, and his own softened just a fraction. He sighed, running a hand down his face before reaching for you again, his fingers sliding against yours.  

“Amor,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “You can’t downplay this.”  

You hesitated—but you didn’t pull away.  

“I just—” you licked your lips, eyes darting toward Rob. “I need to know why.”  

“Then let’s find out.” Pedro’s grip tightened. He looked at Rob. “I want to see her.”  

Rob hesitated.  

"Mr. Pascal, I don't think—"  

“We need to see her.”  

There was no room for argument.  

Rob exhaled sharply, glancing between you both before nodding. "Follow me."  

SECURITY ROOM — PINEWOOD STUDIOS

The moment you stepped inside, the air felt wrong.  

Cecilia didn’t look up at first. She just sat there, fingers tapping lazily against the metal table, the picture of boredom. But when the door clicked shut behind you, her lips curled into something sharp, something mocking.  

“Well, well.” She leaned back, exhaling a slow breath through her nose. “Look who survived.”  

Pedro’s hands clenched into fists.  

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse pounded in your ears. You had questions—you had so many questions—but standing in front of her, seeing the absolute lack of remorse in her expression, your stomach twisted into knots.  

“You were trying to kill me.” It wasn’t even a question.  

Cecilia tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with something twisted. “You make it sound so dramatic.”  

Pedro lunged.  

Security was on him before he could reach her, two guards stepping in to block his path. His breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving, but he didn’t take his eyes off her.  

“You tried to fucking kill her!” he spat, voice raw with barely restrained rage.  

Cecilia let out a soft, breathy laugh.  

And then she looked at you.  

The intensity of it made your stomach churn. There was something ugly in her gaze, something simmering beneath the surface.  

“Don’t act so shocked,” she mused, her voice sickly sweet. “You had to know I hated you.”  

You took a shaky step forward. “Why?”  

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”  

“Why, Cecilia?”  

Her smirk dropped.  

And then—  

"Because you don’t belong here," she snapped.  

The air seemed to still.  

Pedro stiffened beside you.  

Cecilia leaned forward, her nails scraping against the metal table. "You’re nobody," she sneered. “Some random, awkward little nobody who just lucked her way into all of this.” Her eyes flicked to Pedro with something scathing. “And somehow, you have him wrapped around your pathetic little finger.”  

Your breath hitched.  

Pedro’s hand found yours, squeezing tight.  

She saw it. And laughed.  

"Oh, wow," she drawled. “That’s fucking hilarious.”  

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off.  

"You walk onto this set like you belong here, like you’re one of us—but you’re not." Her voice was venomous now, her eyes wild. “You think people don’t talk about you? You think we don’t see it? The way you cling to him like some shy, pathetic little puppy?”  

You flinched.  

Pedro stepped in front of you instinctively, his body a shield. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”  

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Look at you. Protecting her. It’s honestly nauseating."  

Pedro’s grip on your hand tightened.  

"Here’s what really pisses me off," she continued, voice low and sharp. "I worked my ass off to get where I am. I have connections, I have talent, I belong here. But you—" her lip curled "—some quiet, nothing of a girl, you get handed everything. People like you shouldn’t get to win."  

Your throat tightened.  

Cecilia sat back, exhaling through her nose. "So yeah," she murmured. "I wanted you gone."  

Silence.  

And then Pedro moved.  

Not toward her—but toward you. His hand came up, cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing softly against your jaw. His touch was gentle, but his voice was firm.  

“She’s everything you’ll never be,” he said quietly.  

Cecilia’s eyes darkened.  

Rob, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. His voice was sharp, cold.  

“You’re done.”  

Cecilia blinked, her head snapping toward him.  

“Legal is handling the rest,” Rob continued. "You’ll be formally charged. The company will pursue legal action for endangering crew and tampering with safety equipment. And as for Mr. Pascal and Miss—”  

Pedro cut him off. “We’re filing charges too.”  

Your heart skipped.  

Cecilia laughed. "We’re?” Her eyes flicked to you. “Oh my god. You’re actually letting him do this for you.”  

Pedro didn’t even hesitate. "No," he said. “She’s not letting me do anything. I’m doing this because she deserves better.”  

Cecilia scoffed, but it was weaker now.  

Security moved in. "Time’s up," one of them muttered, gripping Cecilia’s arm.  

She didn’t fight them. Didn’t struggle. But as they led her out, she turned, eyes locking onto yours.  

And then she smiled.  

A chill ran down your spine.  

Pedro felt it. You knew he did—because his hand never left yours.  

Rob cleared his throat. "You two need to come with me. Legal will brief you on the next steps."  

Pedro nodded, already leading you toward the door.  

But your feet felt heavy.  

This wasn’t over.  

Not by a long shot.  

And somehow… you had a terrible feeling that Cecilia wasn’t done with you yet.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — LATER THAT DAY

To say the rest of the workday was exhausting was an understatement.  

The meeting with legal had been a blur—signing statements, reviewing footage again, going over protocol and next steps. There was so much red tape, so much legal jargon, that it all started to bleed together in your head.  

And then there was Cecilia.  

She was officially gone. Fired. Out of the studio.  

No one was exactly mourning her departure. In fact, you quickly realized that she hadn’t been all that liked to begin with. Crew members exchanged knowing glances, a few even muttering things like, “About damn time.” It was a strange kind of relief, knowing you hadn’t imagined the way she’d treated you—that you hadn’t been overreacting.  

Still, you couldn’t shake the sick feeling in your gut.  

There was something about the way she had smiled before she left.  

Like she knew something you didn’t.  

But you pushed it down. You had to. There was still work to be done, cameras to prep, lights to check. The show had to go on, and the last thing you wanted was to make everything about you.  

So you pretended.  

You focused on your job, gave polite smiles when necessary, forced your hands to steady when they trembled. If anyone noticed how stiff you were, they didn’t say anything. And if Pedro noticed—well.  

He was watching you.  

Constantly.  

Even as he ran through his scenes, even when he was talking to the director, even when he was across the damn set, you could feel it—his eyes lingering, his brow furrowed in quiet concern.  

And honestly? It was starting to make you nervous.  

So, during a break between shots, when he finally cornered you near the equipment table, you weren’t exactly surprised.  

"Are you okay?"  

You swallowed, forcing a small smile. "I’m fine."  

Pedro raised an eyebrow.  

Damn it.  

"I’m trying to be fine," you amended, shifting awkwardly under his gaze.  

He sighed. "You don’t have to try with me, you know."  

Your stomach twisted.  

Because that was the thing about Pedro—he was safe. You had known that since the moment you met him. It was in his voice, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he never pushed too hard, never made you feel like you had to be anything other than what you were.  

And that—that terrified you more than anything.  

Because what if you fell into that safety? What if you leaned too hard? What if you needed him too much?  

You bit your lip, glancing down. "I just... I don’t want to make this a big deal."  

Pedro was silent for a beat. Then—  

"But it is a big deal," he murmured.  

Your breath caught.  

Pedro reached out, his fingers ghosting over your wrist before he really touched you—slow and gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away.  

You didn’t.  

"Someone tried to hurt you," he continued, voice low, careful. "I need you to understand that I—" He broke off, his jaw clenching like he was trying to rein himself in. "I don’t take that lightly."  

You exhaled shakily.  

"I know," you whispered.  

His fingers tightened around your wrist, warm and steady.  

For a second, neither of you moved.  

And then—  

Someone called Pedro’s name from across the set.  

He swore under his breath but didn’t let go right away, his thumb brushing absently against your pulse.  

"We’re not done talking about this," he murmured.  

And before you could protest, he was gone.  

Leaving you standing there, heart racing, hands aching with the ghost of his touch.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — EARLY EVENING  

The day dragged on like a ghost of itself.

After Cecilia was escorted off set and Pedro’s legal team assured you everything would be handled, you forced yourself to keep working. You were quiet. Careful. Mechanical. Going through the motions like a wind-up version of yourself.

People tried to be nice. Someone handed you a protein bar. Someone else asked if you were okay in that awkward, nervous way people do when they don’t know how to talk about something awful.  

You smiled. Nodded. Said, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

You weren’t.

By the time the lights dimmed and crew started packing up, the hum of the studio felt deafening. Pedro had been across the lot filming a short pickup scene—he’d looked back at you three times as he walked off, like he didn’t want to leave you alone, but you waved him on with a soft, forced smile. Told him you’d be fine.

You lied.

Because now you found yourself sitting on a lonely bench just outside the studio’s back lot, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The sun was low in the sky, casting everything in golden haze, but none of it touched the growing pit in your chest.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You almost died.

He almost died.  

You didn’t even remember moving—your body just acted, just lunged toward him before the rig collapsed. You could still feel the heat of it brushing past your back as you shoved him out of the way. The sound of it crashing. Pedro yelling your name. The weight of it all hadn’t sunk in until now.

You sat there, heart pounding, staring at your hands like they belonged to someone else.

Then—Footsteps. Familiar ones. Heavy boots on pavement.

Pedro.

“…There you are,” he said softly.

You looked up too fast, eyes wide. He frowned when he saw your face.

“You said you were going to the parking lot,” he murmured, kneeling down in front of you instead of sitting beside you. “You’ve been out here alone?”

You nodded. Barely. “Yeah. I just… I needed a second.”

His gaze flickered over you, reading all the things you didn’t say.

“You’re not okay.”

You tried to smile again. Failed. “No.”

That one word cracked something open. Your voice wobbled. “I’m really not.”

Pedro didn’t say anything—he just reached for your hands, gently prying them from where they were clutched around your middle. His thumbs brushed your knuckles as he held them, grounding you with his warmth.

“I keep thinking,” you whispered, “If I was just a few steps slower—if I hadn’t looked up, if the timing was different… you could’ve been—”

“Hey.” He reached up, cupping your cheek. His voice was low and firm and steady. “But I wasn’t. You were there. You saved me.”

You blinked hard. Your throat tightened. “But you shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place. None of this should’ve happened. I don’t know how she—how someone I used to know—could hate me that much. It’s like… like I did something wrong just by existing.”

Pedro’s brow furrowed. His thumb brushed gently under your eye where a tear had slipped free. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “You’re not the problem, cariño. She is. Whatever’s broken in her, it has nothing to do with you.”

You dropped your gaze. “I’ve always been the weird one. The quiet one. The ‘who even let her in here?’ kind of girl.”

Pedro let out a breath like it hurt to hear you say that. Then he sat beside you, pulling you into his chest without hesitation. You didn’t even think—your body just curled into him like it was home.

“I don’t know who made you feel like that,” he said quietly, “but they were all wrong.”

His arms were wrapped around you tight. Solid. Safe.

“You belong here,” he whispered. “You’re good at your job. You’re kind. And brave. You didn’t even hesitate today. You didn’t think about it, didn’t flinch—you just moved.”

You felt the warmth of his breath against your temple.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life,” he admitted. “Watching that rig come down, seeing you throw yourself toward me—” His voice cracked, just a little. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got hurt.”

Your heart thudded painfully at that.

You shifted slightly, your face still tucked against his shoulder, your voice small. “But I’m okay.”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “But that doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

Silence fell for a moment. But it wasn’t heavy this time. It was full of unspoken things. Of feeling.  

You pulled back just enough to look at him. He didn’t let go.

“…You really scared me too,” you whispered. “More than I expected. And I—I don’t think it’s just because I like working with you.”

Pedro’s eyes softened.

“You don’t?” he asked gently.

Your cheeks flushed. You glanced down, shy and awkward. “No. I think… I think I like you in the stupid romantic way.”

Pedro didn’t answer at first. Instead, he leaned in—slow, careful, giving you every chance to back away.

You didn’t.

And when he kissed you, it was soft. Warm. Like the sun finally touching your skin after a long, cold day.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “That’s not stupid.”

You smiled, still tearful, still trembling—but for the first time all day, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet.

Not uncomfortable—just… full. The kind of silence that settles in after your body’s been wrung out by adrenaline and nerves. You stared out the window, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Pedro sat beside you, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your wrist with his thumb, like he needed to keep reminding himself you were still there.

He didn’t ask you anything. Didn’t push. Just stayed close.

By the time the keycard clicked and the hotel door swung open, your shoulders felt like they were being held up by thread.

Pedro locked the door behind you. You stood there for a beat too long, not sure what to do with yourself. Like you were suddenly a guest in your own body.

“Hey,” his voice came from behind, soft. “Why don’t you sit down, okay?”

You nodded, toeing off your shoes and sinking onto the edge of the bed. The moment your weight settled into the mattress, your spine curled forward. You didn’t cry. Didn’t break. Just sat there, small and still, trying to hold it all in.

Pedro crouched in front of you.

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until he reached for them.

“Can I?” he asked quietly.

You looked up, eyes glassy, and gave the smallest nod.

He took your hands into his, warm and steady, his thumbs brushing slow circles over your knuckles.

“Pedro…”

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, eyes focused entirely on you. “Hm?”

You hesitated. Your heart fluttered in your chest—nervous, raw, still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. But his hands felt like an anchor. His eyes were kind and open and safe.

“Thank you,” you said softly. Barely more than a whisper.

His lips parted—just the smallest bit—and then curved into something achingly tender.

“Anything for you, mi amor,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

The way he said it—it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t performative. There was no teasing lilt in his voice. It was soft and full of meaning, like every word had been carefully chosen. Like he meant it with his whole chest.

You tried to look away, but he was already watching you with that gaze that always made you feel like the most precious thing in the room.

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” you said quietly, your voice cracking just a little. “I’ve been weird all day, I barely said anything, and I just—there was this moment where I couldn’t stop shaking. I still feel like I can’t breathe right.”

Pedro didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he brought your hands up and pressed a kiss to your fingers, slow and reverent. Like you were something delicate and sacred.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he said gently. “I know what today was. I saw what it did to you. And I saw how hard you still tried.”

Your throat felt tight.

“You didn’t shut down,” he continued. “You showed up. You protected me. And then you went right back to work like nothing happened. But sweetheart… that wasn’t nothing. That was a lot.”

Your lips trembled.

He let go of your hands just long enough to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheeks. “You don’t have to be okay right away. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I didn’t think it’d affect me this much,” you whispered. “It’s just… I felt so stupid for freezing up earlier.”

“You weren’t stupid,” he said immediately. “You were brave. You were human.”

You looked down, unsure of what to say to that. You were still getting used to how he talked to you—like you mattered. Like your feelings were real and valid and worth holding space for.

Pedro tipped your chin up with a gentle finger. “Hey.”

Your eyes met his again.

“I mean it,” he said softly. “You don’t owe anyone a perfect reaction. You don’t owe me anything except exactly who you are.”

“I don’t know how to be that around you,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “I still feel like I’m tripping over my own feet when I talk.”

His smile turned playful—just for a second.

“I think it’s cute.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

He laughed softly, arms wrapping around you again.

“I’m serious,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re so hard on yourself, mi amor. But I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Your heart fluttered painfully in your chest. You stayed like that, pressed close against him, letting his warmth sink into your skin like sunlight through linen. Your fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, and he held you like you were something he didn’t want to let go of.

Eventually, you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again.

“Will you stay?” you asked softly.

Pedro’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Of course.”

“No, I mean…” You hesitated. “All night.”

He reached up, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You want me here?”

You nodded. “I feel safe when you’re here.”

His chest rose with a quiet breath, and then he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead—slow, lingering, warm.

“Then I’m staying,” he said simply.

And he did.

You both climbed under the covers a few minutes later, your back to his chest, his arms around your waist. He held you gently, like a promise. You were still a little shy, still unsure of how close to be—but when he murmured, “I’ve got you,” into your shoulder, something deep in you finally let go.

You fell asleep wrapped in his warmth, the world softening around you.

End Notes:

I know, it's not a super long chapter update, for that I am so sorry, but I swear the next one will be longer tehe!

Will they catch a break?!?! I dunno. There’s a lot of things that come with dating a celebrity… and soon enough, the public will find out. I’m sure it will be fine! ...Right?

Anyways, I apologize once again for the wait and thank you for your patience! See you soon 🤍

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Miss Nicola - supporting LGBTQI rights

Dearest gentle reader,

I have been itching to write a blog post now for a few weeks, but not really knowing where to begin. There have been frenzied weeks and days of activity, but then silence and the fandom meanders like a lost boat at sea. We are often rudderless without the reassuring presence of our ship captains - Luke and Nicola. This also tends to get the sub fandoms spouting nonsense claiming to have seen Nicola in Birmingham or some ridiculous crap. I didn't want to bother her by asking for a photo! No photo, no proof my friend.

I'll talk about me for a moment. I had a week from hell last week. There was something so upsetting for me to deal with, I couldn't go into work as I was crying that much. Try to explain this to your manager: that nasty comments on YouTube made you late for work. Luckily, she is an understanding person and I have told her about my YT channel. Saying some things out loud to real life people make me sound barking mad. But it is the price you pay for being public on YouTube. It also makes me an easy target. I am used to online trolls and people who hate me for saying that Jake is gay and believing in Lukola, but when the stab in the back comes from a supposed friend, it really is the ten of swords. My phone blew up that much, I opened my eyes that morning genuinely thinking Lukola had launched. My hope turned to ash, when I saw what was really happening. I share this with you all because, I have had to have a reckoning with myself the last week. My online life and my real life are not the same. My real life is way more important and I actually need my job, so messing it up because I've got people I don't really know online saying mean things about me, that are not true, shouldn't matter. But it still hurts. But I also realise, they are trying to stop me sharing and trying to ruin my credibility and reputation in order to send me off into my discord crying never to return again.

Well think again. No one tells a Sagittarius woman what they can and can't do. I am made of stronger stuff. Love will always conquer hate. No one puts Baby in the corner, and I will not stand for it. I have scaled back most of my online life now. It had helped me cope with the last year and losing my friend, but sometimes you have to go back into reality. I'm never leaving the ship though. You'll have to chuck me overboard and I'll still jump back on like Rose from Titanic. "I couldn't go, Jack! You jump, I jump, right?"

Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk about Nic. I love Nicola by the way and nothing I say here is a criticism of her or her choices. I see what you're doing though, miss Nicola. I said in my last blog that the shit would hit the fan when Jake has to start press for his new upcoming BBC3 drama What it feels like for a girl. I will admit I have not read the book. Regardless of who Jake is playing, it is reportedly an all queer cast, a queer director and at least one queer writer that I know of. Why would the director of an all queer cast hire a straight man in a homosexual role? If this show is as big as It's a Sin, that aired on Channel 4 a few years ago, then there will be press and a lot of it. There will be press from queer magazines also. Jake is currently in an awkward position, because some press believe he is in a romantic relationship with Nicola Coughlan, a woman who is also 14 years his senior. So, what will Nicola and Jake do?

Jake is holding onto his cash cow with both hands and Nicola needs Jake to continue to pose as her boyfriend to stop the media digging. But honey, they know. It was clear all the press at the SAG awards knew exactly what was going on and they were not afraid to say it. The 'happy ending' comment levelled at them directly by a reporter, had Nicola stunned and Luke smiling like all his Christmases' had come at once.

Nicola knows what is going on. She knows there is a deadline and she knows if she doesn't extricate herself from the narrative she is dating a gay man, she is screwed basically. What is she doing? She's getting out her, I love gays!! T-shirt, hats, scarfs, sunglasses, whatever. She is doing it. Look at me, I love queers! I love her for this and I already know she is an advocate for LGBTQI rights. She has a ton of gay friends. The fandom knows this of course, but do the general public?

At the Neutrogena event on 27th March 2025, there was a very tall drag queen doing some MCing. We know Nic loves drag queens and has been to many shows, so this is nothing new to us. I'm not being overly cynical that the drag queen might have been there for a reason, right? Neutrogena is a product that is targeted at women mostly for their skin products. What has that got to do with a drag queen? I just found it odd.

Next up we have Nicola's Pink Pony Club Post that she shared to both her Instagram stories and grid last Thursday 10th April. The song by Chappell Roan is synonymous with the gay community and one that Jake danced to at her concert last year in a pink cowboy hat. "You guys, remember when my old flat was a gay hotspot!" Nicola, posts 4 polaroid's of her looking fabulous in pink and lays them on a pink blanket. What made you feel so nostalgic, Nic? Or are you sending a message? Look at me, I have loved my gay besties for donkey's years. Prominent gay friends such as JVN and Jack Rooke commented all in agreement, that indeed, Nic's flat was the place to be. And, no I do not think Nicola is coming out herself as gay. Get real, she is supporting her friends and peers.

Then there was yesterday's selfie of Nicola wearing her black - 'I just wanted to say if you are trans and reading this, I love you and so do all my mates' T-shirt. There a few other details in that post that other bloggers such as @toriaaniin have covered beautifully, so I won't go into it here. My eyes sprung wide when I saw this post. I know she advocates for the charity Notaphase.org and I commend her for doing this, but two queer posts in a few days seems to be a lot for Nic, when lately she hasn't been posting at all.

There is also the male hairdresser Halley Brisker in her Opalex video on her Instagram, They make a big deal of letting us know he flirts with male makeup artists. Nicola is clearly good friends with Halley and it is an endearing watch. But to me this seems like a lot of overkill in the last few days for the general public to look at her Instagram and instantly know, yes Nicola does love the girls, the gays and Luke Newton. (FYI Halley Brisker is married to a woman and has children, but to the general public this conversation is implying Nic is comfortable with these conversations).

This, in my opinion, is setting the stage for the final act. I can see Nicola doing some sort of article or interview where she clears a certain narrative up. If you notice, Douglas has also been quite forceful again in implying certain things about Jake and Jake himself does not stop others from posting suggestive posts and videos of him. Nicola must remove herself from this mess in order to move forward with her own career and life. Hanging onto old connections are no longer serving her personally and professionally. Her engagement on Instagram is down by a lot, so I'm told and she is losing followers. She has done all she can career-wise for Jake now, he has to make his own way.

If this does not happen and we remain in this weird heteronormative bubble, I fear the press for What it feels like for a girl, will be a shit show. The truth will come out eventually and it will drag both Jake and Nicola down with it.

[authorhjk1]

Idol Competition

IU X Kang Seulgi

IU sits on the couch in her apartment, her phone in her hand. It's 9:55 am on a Monday. The fourth of December to be exact.

Five more minutes. She has five more minutes until her deadline. IU wonders if she is able to still pull it off. It's quite cold outside, so she expected her to not go through with it. But the other woman sounded more than confident.

Lee Ji-eun checks the chat history on her KakaoTalk app. No picture to proof her accomplished mission yet. IU smirks. Four minutes left.

Is this it? Is this going to be the moment she wins this competition? It has been going on for months now. The two women come up with new challenges almost every day.

Kang Seulgi had two days for this one. IU sees the six turn into a seven. Three more minutes. Even if she could do it in the cold, she would still need to find someone to do it with her. IU wonders who could be crazy enough.

But then again, it's Seulgi. She is a famous woman. And really pretty. There is no doubt that someone would say yes.

Two more minutes.

IU is already thinking about the prize. Although you could say that every mission was a prize itself already.

Her phone vibrates and Ji-eun sighs in disappointment. She clicks on the picture Kang Seulgi send her just now.

The younger woman is kneeling on a blanket. It's visibility windy, her hair flying in all directions behind her. The waves of the ocean are captured on the left side of the picture.

It could have been a normal picture of a woman on a beach. Except for the fact that Seulgi is completely naked. And that it looks like she just good a facial.

IU zooms in on her face. She licks her lips as she sees how well someone came on her competitor's face.

Seulgi is smiling into the camera, hands behind her back, pushing her tits a little forward.

"How often did you get caught?"

IU bites one of her nails as she sees the notification that Seulgi is typing a response.

"Twice. The second guy even stayed and watched while I got my face fucked."

IU moans at the thought. She remembers the challenge from two weeks ago.

Seulgi made her go shopping without her credit card. When she wanted to buy something, she had to convince the seller with something else. It didn't matter if it was a man or a woman, IU did her best to buy as much as she could. In the end, she got caught by a young couple in the isle of some store, her face a mess while the seller was abusing her throat.

"Was it very cold?"

"It was alright. Sex makes you warm real quick."

IU chuckles at Seulgi's message.

"Do you already have something in mind for me? Or do I need to wait?"

Ji-eun's eyes widen when she sees Seulgi's next text.

"Go to SSHS."

That's Seoul Science High School.

"Find a student who is younger than 20 and give him the best school day of his life."

IU can't help but let her hand slide underneath her shorts. Being over thirty years old already, she recently discovered that this is somewhat a new kink of hers. Younger guys who are almost half her age. Legal of course, but young. This could be her chance to freely enjoy this kink of hers.

"Deal."

"You've only today. Should be a piece of cake for a slut like you."

"I love you too."

IU teases her back, before getting off the couch. What to wear for her visit to high school?

Ji-eun walks towards her closet. Should she dress up as a teacher? Or a student?

She can feel how wet these thoughts make her pussy. The idea of letting some young man fuck her, forces IU to move her hand back into her shorts. She let's herself sink into her bed, while looking at the opened closet. Her head falls back as she starts to finger herself.

IU nervously looks around, before reaching inside the bookshelf. Now that she is here, she is way more cautious. It was surprisingly easy to get inside the school building, considering that strangers are not allowed.

Wearing her mask, Ji-eun was able to pass as a teacher while walking through the hallways. She is now standing in the library. The perfect place for her challenge in her opinion.

Now that she has placed her phone inside the bookshelf to record the proof, she is looking around to find the right guy.

"Ms. Lee?"

IU turns around on instinct, her heart sinking. Did she actually get caught already?

"I apologize. I thought you were our homeroom teacher."

The young girl apologizes. She doesn't seem to recognize her. IU takes a deep breath, relieved that she is fine.

"It's alright. Can I help you anyways?"

She tries to act natural, hoping the girl won't catch on.

"Yeah. Me and my boyfriend are looking for the right textbooks for our research. I'm not old enough and he lost his library card. We wanted to ask Ms. Lee for help."

Ji-eun nods. Does that mean her boyfriend is at least eighteen? She knows you have to be over eighteen to borrow specific books from the library.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you with that. You better ask Ms. Lee."

"Thanks, teacher."

The young girl bows and walks towards a table. A guy, who seems to be her boyfriend, is waiting for her there.

IU can't help but bite her lip. The first guy she finds looks quite handsome as well. She doubts he could resist her. After all, relationships in high school aren't serious anyways.

She watches the girl leave the library, before walking over.

As expected, it only takes a couple of words, before IU takes the boy's hand and leads him towards the bookshelf. He just turned eighteen four months ago. Just the right age to fulfill this fantasy.

She can feel his stare on her legs as she walks in front of him. Ji-eun deliberately chose this outfit. It's not too revealing, but it highlights her long, flawless legs.

Once the pair reaches the shelf where IU put her phone, she turns around.

"I will make sure that you enjoy yourself."

She gets on her knees in front of him.

IU expected him to not last very long, but here she is. Her face pressed against books about biology as she gets fucked from behind. The recording must be ten minutes long already, plenty of footage for Seulgi to enjoy later on.

Ji-eun was able to stay mostly quiet up until now. The guy's pace keeps increasing as he starts to reach his limit. She feels his young cock in her wet pussy, enjoying the fact that he is barely older than half her age. She never doubted herself. She knew every guy wants to fuck her. Whatever their age.

"Turn me around."

IU is close to her own orgasm herself. The student does as she says, turning her around to face him. She leans against the bookshelf, staring at the one across the isle. That's where her phone is hidden. Her dark, lustfilled eyes are glued to the camera as he starts to thrust into her again.

Her small Gucci shorts are lying at Ji-eun's feet. She wasn't wearing underwear, knowing she would have to take it off anyways.

"You fuck me so good."

She whispers into his ear as she places her head onto his shoulder.

His hands hold her small waist, pounding her into the shelf full of books.

"Fuck!"

IU is unable to not moan loudly, when she finally cums. Her pussy contracting around the young guy's cock, making him orgasm as well. She can't believe how good this felt. How good it still feels.

This was a better fuck than what she expected. Not just because he is way younger.

As he let's his cock slip out of her, IU watches his cum drip out of her pussy. She can't blame him. Her pussy is just so incredibly tight when she cums.

"Oh fuck."

Seulgi sighs as she cums on her fingers. Her phone is in the other hand, her screen showing IU's new video. Seulgi knew she could pull it of, but never expected it to be this hot. The way Ji-eun looked at the camera while she got railed into the bookshelf....

Seulgi tries to collect herself as she hears her members walk around. Yeri and Joy both seem to be in a very good mood today.

With shaky fingers, she starts typing on her phone.

"What do you have for me?'

Seulgi is genuinely curious. At this point the two of them did pretty much everything. She doesn't even know what task she should give IU after this one.

"The two of us have a music show soon, right?"

"Yeah."

"If that hot camera man is there again, I want you to suck him off, while I watch."

Seulgi remembers the face fucking on the beach mere hours ago.

"Deal."

"Why don't you cum on my pretty face, hmm?"

Seulgi kneels in front of the young man, stroking his cock. IU is sitting on the couch behind her, watching and getting herself off. IU's dressing room looks like it has become a scene of some dirty movie as Seulgi wraps her lips around the man's cock once more. Her head bobs up and down, making him groan and take a fistful of her hair.

Seulgi's pussy feels even wetter than usual, probably because she has someone watching. She wants to prove to IU that she is the better one at sucking cock.

"Are you enjoying your reward?"

IU sighs as she looks at the guy, who's eyes are glued to Seulgi's face. He nods, unable to understand how ge got himself into this. When he started working, he never expected someone like Seulgi to walk up to him after the show, asking if he wants some head.

She is now doing her best to make him cum, her slow blowjob proving enough for the guy eventually.

While IU has her hand rub her pussy, she watches how he starts cuming on Seulgi's face. Rope after rope of his cum stains her skin, some of it getting into her eyes.

Seulgi let's out a satisfied hum as she starts to clean his cock.

"You taste delicious."

She gives his tip one last kiss, before he starts to pull up his pants. There is another group about to perform.

As the two women watch him leave, Seulgi takes some of the tissues from the small coffee table and starts to clean her face.

"Anything else?"

Seulgi shakes her head.

"I can't come up with a good idea."

IU sighs as she licks her fingers clean. She enjoys the taste of her pussy just as much as the guys who eat her out.

"Me neither. I was afraid this would happen."

"So what now? Do we end this in a tie?"

IU raises and eyebrow.

"Do you think you are better slut than me?"

Seulgi shrugs her shoulders.

"Let's just say I got two faicals today. What about you?"

IU shakes her head.

"We can't end it like this."

The notification sound of Seulgi's phone interrupts their conversation. The younger woman unlocks her phone, before scrolling around.

"What are you doing?"

She sees Seulgi bit her lip as she seems to read something.

"There is another smut fic about me."

"You actually read those?"

"They are hot. I like how my fans think about me."

She gives IU a wink, before she keeps reading the new post.

The wheels in the older girl's mind start to turn.

"Do you think they would do this to us in person? What they write?"

"Unnie..."

Seulgi looks at her.

"I like how you're thinking."

"We should invite some of the writers so they have more inspiration for their stories."

The two of them laugh.

"That's a good idea."

Seulgi scrolls through her phone.

"But there are so many. If we would try to fuck them all, our careers would be over before we got to all of them. We don't have so much time."

"Who says we have to fuck them individually?"

IU's smirk makes Seulgi chuckle.

"I like where this is heading."

"But how are we going to get them all in one place? They probably live all over the world."

Seulgi ponders for a moment.

"How about we send them dms and pictures of us? It should work. Especially when we tell them that we are inviting others as well. This way they can communicate with each other, making sure we aren't trying to scam them or something."

"Sounds like a plan. What could go wrong?"

IU regrets those words as soon as she opens the door of the practice room. Two weeks later and here they are. The two women look at the fully packed room. Seulgi tries to count the guys who are here. They messaged about twenty guys, but it now looks more like thirty or forty. It seems like word has spread.

"Is this a good or a bad sign?"

IU looks around as well. She had a threesome before, but this is quite different. Even if Seulgi and IU get used at the same time, there are still gonna be at least fifteen guys for each of them.

"Are you backing out?"

IU shakes her head.

"Why would I?"

Seulgi chuckles. She is nervous, but tries to hide it.

"Let's make another bet. Whoever makes the most guys cum in 15 minutes wins. The other person is going to be a free use for everyone."

Ji-eun likes the idea. She imagines all those guys taking turns on her and Seulgi, using their bodies as fuck toys.

"Sounds like I'm gonna win."

The older girl is confident. The high school boy is proof of the fact, how tight her pussy can become when she cums. No one survives that.

"But no fucking."

IU looks at Seulgi.

"What?"

"No fucking. Only your mouth and hands."

"Hey, that's boring."

Seulgi scoffs.

"You are not up for that?"

IU rolls her eyes.

"Fine. Watch and learn."

She walks inside, all heads turn towards her as Seulgi follows quickly after.

"Hi, everyone!"

IU waves.

"I guess the two of us don't need to introduce ourselves. You all know, why you are here?"

She sees everyone nod their heads.

While IU talks, Seulgi let's her eyes roam the room once more. Now that she is inside, she can count properly. She stops at 31 as her eyes falls on to a man, who is standing further back. He is a little taller than most of the guys in the room. She sees his biceps underneath the sleeves of his shirt, the bulge in his pants visible, without him even having a hard on.

Seulgi licks her lips. This is going to be a fun evening. Because she zoned out for a couple of moments, she didn't catch what IU was saying.

But when suddenly all of the guys start walking towards them, Seulgi immediately feels her panties getting damp. This is it. In the back of her mind, she still has a little bit of doubt left. It vanishes soon though as the first guy reaches her.

She sees IU kneeling down next to her, Seulgi does the same. The sound of ten guys opening the zippers of their pants almost makes Seulgi drool. She watches the first guys pulling their pants down, taking their cocks out.

Seulgi glances at the clock, about to start their bet. But IU is already reaching forward, taking hold of the first man's cock.

"Are these all for me? So nice of you."

She coos as she holds another man's dick with her other hand.

Seulgi doesn't want to fall behind. She reaches for the man nearest to her, pulling him forward by his cock.

"If everyone is gonna be as big you...."

She trails off, feeling the guy getting harder in her hand.

Seulgi decides to use her mouth early. She takes the man's cock into her mouth, savouring the taste. At the same time, the other guys around her make her use her hands.

By now, pretty much all the guys have gotten rid of their pants and are standing around the two women. IU is starting to suck off her first guy as well, both her hands busy with stroking two other men.

Seulgi closes her eyes as she hears everyone moan, occasionally switching cocks. There are five guys directly standing around her right now. More than enough to enjoy herself.

She is excited as she feels everyone's stares on her. This is something entirely different than singing and dancing on stage. And yet, it makes her equally happy. That rush of adrenaline makes her suck the guy's cock even faster.

IU takes another man into her mouth, savouring the new taste. Wearing this this suit might not have been the best idea, because they guys can't have easy access. But she still feels someone from behind sneaking his hands around her waist. She moans around the cock in her mouth as she feels someone rub the fabric over pussy.

Seulgi is starting to suffer the same fate as IU. The guys around her start touch her body, making her squirm underneath them. All the attention makes her wet as hell, wishing they would fuck her already. Why did she make that bet with IU?

She regrets it now as the first guys let's his hand sneak inside her shorts. His strong fingers make Seulgi moan around the cock in her mouth. The man who she is blowing puts his hand onto her head, unable to resist the urge to cum in her mouth much longer.

IU has driven one of the guys who stand around her to a similar level of arousal. He is pushing her head onto his cock, while her two hands are still busy, stroking the four guys on her sides, switching occasionally.

Seulgi let's out a surprised gasp when she feels the first man cuming. But it's not the cock in her mouth, but one of the guys on her right. She was stroking his cock up until now. His warm cum hits her pretty face, making her moan around the dick in her mouth. It makes that guy cum too. He shoots his load down her throat. Seulgi feels like she is in heaven. The warm sperm on her right cheek makes her sigh in pleasure as she turns towards the next guy, ready to suck him off.

IU is keeping up with Seulgi, making the first guy cum in her mouth. She swallows all of it immediately, ready to give another guy head. The guy on her left is trying to take her jacket off, which makes it harder for her to use her hands. Eventually, she gets rid of that useless piece of clothing, feeling two hands unbuttoning her shirt.

Seulgi feels someone's hand dip a finger inside her pussy. She has been unable to keep her hands off herself for these last two weeks and yet she melts at his touch.

Ji-eun keeps sucking off the guy in front of her, until she feels someone cuming on her hand. She looks to her right, letting his dick fall out of her mouth. She licks her hand clean, before taking the guy who just came into her mouth. His cum tastes delicious as she cleans his cock, hoping she can make him cum again soon.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands groping her tits underneath her grey top.

Still with another man's cock in her mouth, she turns her head towards him. With a seductive stare, she eggs him on to slide his hands underneath the fabric.

Seulgi let's her tongue swirl around the top of the cock in her mouth as she feels her nipples being pinched. The other man is now inserting a second finger into her wet snatch. This was supposed to be a competition on how many guys they can get off, not how many guys can get her off.

Either way, Seulgi tries her best to outcompete IU as she feels several hands on her body.

The older woman feels how the fingers on her covered center now start to make her pants wet. Her panties are already drenched, this many men around her too much for her mind to handle. Ji-eun never felt this good.

Someone is now letting her white shirt slip off her shoulder, exposing the lack of a bra. Her upper body is only covered by her tie, which doesn't hide much. Multiple hands make use of her newly exposed skin, some pinching her nipples, while others let their hands wander over her body.

The sight of the naked celebrity in front of him makes the guy in her mouth climax. IU feels his cum paint her mouth as she gulps it down, already looking for her next victim.

"Oh fuck."

The guy in front of Seulgi groans as she pulls him out of her mouth.

"Oh yeah. Paint my face."

Seulgi closes her eyes and sticks her tongue out. Two quick strokes later, she feels his cum staining her skin. Some of it hits her nose, but most lands on her lips and tongue.

"Good boy."

Seulgi winks at him as she cleans her lips with her tongue, making sure she doesn't waste a drop.

Once she opens her mouth again, she is surprised when two guys thrust into her at the same time. Seulgi never sucked off two guys at once, her competitiveness showing as she starts without hesitation. She is going to win this bet and she is going to humiliate IU, until she admits that Seulgi is the bigger slut.

At the same time, IU has another man cuming in her mouth. She almost chokes at the amount of cum he forces down her throat. Once she let's his cock fall out of her mouth with a loud pop, she feels a hand roughly grabbing her tie. Still on her knees, she gets turned around, faced with another hard cock. The guy's hand is still holding her black tie as he pulls her towards him, making Ji-eun take his cock.

Seulgi is unable to speak or do anything properly with her mouth as she tries her best to keep the two dicks inside of her. Only her tongue is able to swirl around their tips occasionally. The two guys keep thrusting into Seulgi's mouth with no intention on stopping anytime soon.

IU's mouth is being used as well. The men in the room starting to grow more confident. You don't have a lot of chances to get a blowjob from Seulgi or IU.

That being said, the guy in the older woman's mouth uses this rare chance to finally cum in her mouth. This must already be the third time she is swallowing someone's load. IU is barely able to keep up with counting. Her hands are slowly starting to get tired after stroking so many guy's cocks. She glanced at the clock. Seven minutes to go. How can she win this bet? She sees Seulgi sucking off two guys at once. Needy slut. IU watches for a moment as they both cum inside Seulgi. They make the younger woman choke as they fill her throat.

Once they are done and take a step back, Seulgi breathes heavily, some of their jizz got onto her face. As she wipes it off, she sees someone else standing in front of her. The guy she noticed earlier. He seems even taller, now that she is kneeling.

Seulgi scoops up some of the cum on her face with a finger, before licking it off with her tongue.

He hasn't taken his jeans off, but Seulgi already knows how big he must be. She reaches forward, fumbling with the belt. A guy on her right starts rubbing his cock all over her face, which makes her stick her tongue out. Seulgi keeps eye contact with the guy in front.

"Come here."

IU whispers towards one of the guys to her left, before starting to get rid off her pants. Seulgi said she is not allowed to use her pussy. No one said something about anal. The guy is not the biggest, which makes him perfect for this. As much as IU is used to have a cock up her ass, she always needs to adjust at first.

"Fuck my ass. Cum in me."

She slips off her grey panties, throwing them to the side. They are heavy and wet with her juices. She sees one of the guys pick it up and wrap it around his cock, before stroking himself with it.

IU feels a familiar tingle inside her body as she lies on her back. All the guys above her look down on her. The man who is supposed to fuck her is now kneeling between her legs, another above her head. The latter pushes his dick down, making Ji-eun take him into her mouth.

The guy between her legs rests his tip against her puckered hole, before slowly starting to push forward. IU moans around the dick in her mouth as she feels how her ass is getting stretched out.

"Fuck. You are so tight."

Seulgi turns to her left after hearing the man groan.

"Yah! Unnie!"

The younger woman stares at IU, who is lying on her back, getting her ass fucked. Her mouth is too full to answer.

Seulgi is about to say more as the big guy in front of her grabs her head and turns her towards her. He got rid of his boxers while she was distracted. Seulgi only manages a gasp, before he pulls her onto his cock.

With one forceful thrust he is already halfway down her throat. Seulgi gags and chokes. Even if she would've been prepared for this, she couldn't have taken so much at once. She feels her jaw getting heavy as the guy fucks her face. He uses her throat like a fleshlight, pounding a way like there is no tomorrow.

Seulgi feels her throat starting to get soar as tears start rolling down her cheeks. She is realizing that this is one of the roughest face fucks she ever had. But definitely not the last one.

His big cock keeps hitting the back of her throat, making Seulgi struggle for air. But he doesn't let go of her head, which means she can't back away.

The fingers in her pussy curl upwards, making her lower body tingle with pleasure. The combination of getting face fucked and fingered pushes Seulgi towards her limit. She never expected to be in this situation. On her knees, surrounded by almost ten guys. All of them stroking their cocks to her getting her throat bruised and her pussy played with.

Seulgi has to close her eyes, tears keep falling from underneath her eyelashes. They mix with her make up and the cum from earlier, turning her once flawless face into an absolute mess. The mixture starts to drip down her skin. Together with her saliva that spills out of her mouth. She is unable to close it. Her body feels numb as she is on the brink of orgasm as she gets the face fucking of her life.

IU's cheating has left her mind a while ago, her brain empty except for the pleasure she is feeling. And how soar her throat is. Seulgi doubts she is able to sing tomorrow. Or even the whole week if this continues.

She hears IU's voice over her own gags, but her own mouth is too loud to hear what the older woman is saying.

"Fuck, yes! Give me your cum!"

Ji-eun moans as she sees two guys on both her sides, stroking their cocks, ready to cum. The guy in her ass keeps her mind in a weird state of bliss as she feels like she is in heaven. The man who was fucking her mouth is replaced by another, who starts where he left of.

How many guys did she already suck off? Five maybe?

IU moans as around the new cock in her mouth. The two men start to cum all over her body. They cover IU's skin in warmth. Her chest, her tummy, her throat. All of it.

While IU keeps getting fucked, Seulgi feels someone from behind, who is starting to pull her shorts down.

Because the guy who is fucking her face is taller, she had to get on her knees to reach his cock. That means her white shorts can be slipped off easily.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands tug at her pink thong. The rubbing of her clit pauses for a moment, almost making Seulgi climax untouched.

The man who is holding her head in place gives Seulgi a second to relax. He pulls about halfway out, letting his cock rest on her tongue. She takes heavy breaths, trying to prepare herself for the next face fucking.

Another hand begins to play with her pussy as she feels the cock in her mouth starting to move again. This time, he doesn't fuck her fast. It's one slow, forceful thrust after another. It makes her head rock back everytime, before he pulls her onto his cock again.

Seulgi reaches the same state of pleasure as she did before. Hanging on the edge of her orgasm, she takes the face fucking like a champ, trying to keep eye contact with the man who is mercilessly using her.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands grope her butt. She is excited at first, but then, she feels someone's cock touch her rear entrance. She tries to shake her head, but the hands on head won't let her. She was never really the anal type. Plus, she doesn't want to cheat like IU does.

She doesn't have a choice. As the men around her see her struggle, they take holds of her wrists and guide her hands towards their cocks. Seulgi is unable to defend herself.

The cock down her throat, the fingers inside her pussy and now the tip of some man's cock in her ass. It all proves too much for Seulgi. Her shriek is muffled by the man in front of her as she cums around someone's fingers.

Seulgi's body shakes as she practically gets spitroasted. With every thrust into her mouth, she gets pushed onto the cock in her ass. With every thrust from the man inside her ass, she is getting forced to choke around the cock in her mouth.

She realizes how hot this must look for the others as she feels someone nutting on her grey top. His cum stains the fabric and Seulgi is reminded of the bet.

For a moment, she lost sight of the goal, just enjoying these men, having their way with her. But as much as Seulgi likes this situation, she still needs to make more guys cum than IU.

"Yes! Fill my ass up!"

Ji-eun moans loudly as she feels the cock in her ass starting to throb. In that moment, the guy above her climaxes, cuming all over her face. IU gasps as the unexpected facial hits her.

Before she is able to clean her face with her tongue and her fingers, the man between her legs cums inside of her.

"Oh fuck!"

Another moan escapes her cum stained lips as she feels his load paint the insides of her ass.

"Fuck! Please slow down!"

Seulgi screams. Half in pleasure, half in pain. The guy who is fucking her ass is the same guy who fucked her face so good a couple of minutes ago. He left a huge facial on her face, before giving others the chance to enjoy her mouth. Now, he is standing behind Seulgi, after getting her off the floor.

Her legs feel like jelly as she takes his pounding from behind. Her hands are useless by now, just loosely wrapped around two guy's cocks.

Another guy now steps in front of her to shut her up.

"You are too big for my ass."

She whines, hoping he would slow down, before another cock pushes past her lips.

Seulgi needily sucks on it, trying to blend out the pain in her ass. She has been used by so many guys now. She lost proper count a while ago. And if she would've looked up to check the time, she would have realized that the fifteen minutes were over fifteen minutes ago.

But Seulgi is too busy getting stuffed with cock from both ends. The black hairband she used to make a ponytail is barely holding up. Her hair looks like it's in a messy bun by now. Drops of white cum decorate her black, silk like hair.

IU is taking two cocks at the same time, too. But she is in a different position. She is placed on all fours in a circle of about ten guys. They all take turns fucking her ass and thrusting into her mouth.

The guy who is currently using her throat holds her tie in his hand, making her choke, whenever he gives it a light tug. The fact that she is getting choked makes IU even hornier. It would be something worthy of exploring later. Is she into getting choked?

Her thoughts are interrupted, when the man in her ass shoots his load. Ji-eun can almost feel how her body becomes heavier. This is the fourth time they came in her ass. If she counted correctly, she made them climax around 23 times already. There is more than enough proof all over her body.

A couple of minutes ago, someone used her still soaked panties to tie her hair back. Someone came on them beforehand. But instead of being disgusted, IU wonders if that counts as making them cum.

"I'm gonna gonna cum in your ass, bitch."

It's the first time the man behind her talked to Seulgi. Her dripping wet pussy craves his cock as he keeps fucking her ass. Because her mouth is closed, Seulgi can't answer. She feels someone's hand now rubbing her clit.

Another hand slaps her right ass cheeks. She doesn't know if that was the guy who is fucking her or someone else. The sting causes her to moan around the cock in her mouth.

"Fuck!"

The guy behind her groans, before he pumps Seulgi's ass full with cum. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her legs almost give out. His warm cum in her ass makes her see stars.

After he leaves her freshly fucked hole, Seulgi does her best to recover. She remembers that she set a time limit on their bet. She checks the clock on the wall. They have been doing this for over thirty minutes now?

"Unnie! Time's up!"

Seulgi's voice sounds hoars after she removed the cock out of her mouth.

IU tells everyone to stop what they are doing. Seulgi has to kneel down again, her legs too weak to carry her.

Ji-eun slowly walks over to her. She feels cum leak out of her ass. Everyone is staring at the pair, waiting to find out who lost.

"So?"

Seulgi looks up at IU. The older woman is still wearing her tie, her hair now held back by her panties. Her body is covered in cum, wherever you look. Her face, her tummy, her chest, her feet.

Seulgi looks similarly used. Her back is still warm from the load of cum she got, while someone fucked her ass from behind.

"25 now."

Seulgi's eyes widen. She didn't expect it to be this close.

"Wow, unnie. You are no slouch."

Ji-eun raises an eye brow.

"Why do you sound so happy?"

"27."

"What?"

"I made them cum twenty seven times."

Seulgi feels someone's cum drip out of her freshly fucked ass and onto her legs. She grins up at IU, who is looking at her with anger and surprise written on her face.

"You know what that means, right?"

IU nods hesitantly.

"Let's tie her up boys."

Seulgi chuckles as she sees someone grabbing IU's wrists and holding them behind her back.

"What-?"

She tries to struggle against his grip, but Seulgi shakes her head.

"You can't run away, unnie. You are now officially a free-use whore."

Before she can reply, someone already stuffed her mouth with a piece of silk. She only realises a moment later that she has Seulgi's pink thong in her mouth. Someone is covering her mouth, so she can't spit it out.

IU's tie is finally gone too, now being used as a way to tie her hands together. She tries to resist, but the guys around her are way taller and stronger than her. Ji-eun sees someone getting a chair from one of the corners of the practice room.

Seulgi suggested this location. It's Red Velvet's former place of learning choreos, when they were rookies. They used a second room outside of the SM building. No one uses it anymore.

When someone sits her down, IU stares at everyone around her. The about forty guys wait for Seulgi's first move.

"You two,"

Seulgi points at two guys on her left.

"Suck on her tits."

They do as she says, both stepping on either side of IU. The older woman moans into Seulgi's panties as she they lean over her. They both wrap their lips around her nipples, sucking on them. The occasional bite makes her squirm in the chair.

"I feel like the gag is now making her too quiet."

Some of the guys nod in agreement.

Seulgi reaches forward to take her panties out of IU's mouth.

"Don't forget, you still have to admit that I'm the better slut."

IU would've stuck her her tongue out, but is currently unable to do so. The two guys working on her tits make her sigh and mewl.

Ji-eun's eyes widen in surprise as she feels Seulgi working on her pussy. It feels weird as she tries to look down, wanting to know what's going on. The guys' heads are blocking her view.

Her head sinks back as she feels Seulgi pushing her thong into the older woman's pussy. A deep moan escapes her lips, once the piece of silk is completely buried inside of her.

"You always bragged about how tight your pussy is. Let's see if that's still the case."

She turns around.

"Guys, I want you to stretch her out like crazy."

IU moves her head to be able to see what's going on. The first guy is already standing in front of her, his cock in his hand.

"Wait. First pull out-Fuck!"

IU moans loudly as he pushes half of his cock inside her with one thrust. She can't tell yet, if Seulgi's panties make her feel better or not. But IU can't help but squirm even more as the man starts to fuck her.

She feels fuller than usual as the guy pushes fully into her stuffed pussy. Together with the two guys who keep playing with her chest, he makes Ji-eun see stars.

She realises this is only the beginning, when another guy steps forward. He grabs IU's ponytail, forcing her down. She automatically opens her mouth, ready to suck his cock. It has become an instinct for her by now. Without even thinking about it, she starts to suck him off.

The two men stop sucking her tits as they both watch how the new guy makes her bob her head up and down on his cock. He and the guy who fucks her stand side by side.

Seulgi looks around them, trying to see what's going on. She feels a pair of hands wrap around her waist. She looks up, seeing the man who just came in her ass.

"You still don't have enough?"

Her cheeky grin makes him chuckle.

"I never expected you to be such a whore."

His cock is now resting between her cheeks. Now that she feels it again, Seulgi can't believe how his dick fit in her ass.

"And this is probably the only chance I'm ever gonna get. So I want all of your holes."

Seulgi leans her head on his chest.

"Take me then."

She feels him aligning his cock with her pussy. He slowly pushes inside, making Seulgi moan. Her half open eyes see, how the guy who is fucking IU is cuming inside her pussy. She hears the older girl's moans as he pulls out and leaves. A moment later, the next guy stands in front of her.

Seulgi can't believe what she has done. What she is still doing. What would her members say to this? She chuckles as she thinks about Yeri's nature. The maknae would probably follow her example.

Her smile is wiped off Seulgi's face as the man behind her increases his pace. His thick cock makes her body heat up as he almost hugs her into his chest.

Seulgi is almost standing on his toes, only his hips working overtime. He has his face in her neck, kissing her skin.

IU moans as another man walks forward. The man who just came in her mouth already left, leaving her throat all sticky. She would've begged for a break, but she knows that Seulgi won't give her one. Although the younger girl is currently occupied with getting fucked, IU dismisses the idea.

She invitingly opens her mouth, before the guy even reaches her. Instead of pushing his scock into her mouth, he takes a hold of her ponytail. Only now, IU realises that he has been stroking his cock while he approached her. His cum is now painting her face, leaving another layer of jizz.

IU moans as the warmth hits her face. At the same time the man in her pussy cums as well. He shoots his load into IU, giving her a second cream pie within a couple of minutes.

"Just... Just give me a second."

Seulgi breathes heavily, almost missing her chance to humiliate IU even further. Slowly, she manages to get of the guy's chest she was leaning on. Standing in front of the older woman, Seulgi reaches down. Her freshly fucked pussy already oozes with cum. She has to fumble around a little, before finally finding her own thong deep inside Ji-eun's cunt.

IU whines as Seulgi slowly pulls it out. There is no sign of the fact that the silk was pink once. It's stained with IU's juices and the other guy's cum.

"They are gonna fuck you for real now."

IU shakes her head, knowing what Seulgi is planing. But because her hands are tied, she can't defend herself.

Seulgi pushes her thong into IU's mouth. The older woman tastes the mixture of her own juices and two loads of cum.

"Take it like the whore you are, unnie. I don't want to hear any complains, once I'm back."

She turns around, taking the hand of the guy, who just fucked her.

"Come with me."

And with that she leaves IU alone with the forty guys. Bound to the chair, unable to yell after her. She sees some of them start to walk towards her.

"Seulgi!"

Her muffled screams stay unheard as Seulgi and her special friend enter the practice room next door.

"I have two more hours until I have to be back at the dorm."

She slings her arms around his neck, grinding her naked center against his cock.

"I want you to fuck me until then."

How long has it been already?

IU can't tell, the clock is hanging on the wall behind her. 30 minutes? An hour?

She would've thought the guys would stop at one point, but she is proven wrong. This is their only chance to fuck Lee Ji-eun however they want. They can use every single one of her holes.

Korea's number one celebrity isn't even sitting on the chair anymore. They started to take turns with sitting in the chair, making IU sit in their laps.

She never experienced having all three of her holes stuffed with cock. But that's the case right now. The man who's lap she is sitting on is thrusting upwards into her ass. The man in front of her is fucking her pussy. Another has placed both of his hands on her head, forcing her to lean to her left.

IU doesn't know how long it has been since she was able to talk. There are still three guys standing in line behind the guy who is fucking her face.

She also doesn't know how often all of them came, since Seulgi left. Probably all of them at least once or twice. Maybe even more. That would make at least forty to eighty times.

That could be the reason why about fifty percent of IU's skin is covered in cum. Her tits and her midriff are full with it, but they still don't compare to her face. She feels like she has several layers of make up on. Her hair probably wasn't spared either.

And how many cream pies did she already get? At least a quarter of their loads. She must have swallowed so much cum by now. Probably more than a liter or two.

Ji-eun moans around the cock in her mouth as she climaxes once again. Her pussy pulsates around the cock in her, making the man cum in her snatch. She even lost count of how many times she came.

Where the fuck is Seulgi?

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!"

Seulgi mumbles and moans. She is lying on the sofa in the corner of the second practice room. The man she took with her is fucking her missionary style. His hand is in her hair, forcing her upper body to lift off the couch.

"Gonna cum!"

Her warning is almost too late. Seulgi climaxes right after the last word leaves her mouth. Her pussy grips onto his cock as he keeps fucking her through her orgasm. Her body is covered in sweat and cum. How often did he make her cum already?

Seulgi moans as she is taken toward another high. She feels his cock suddenly leave her pussy, before he pushes against her puckered hole. The young woman moans and whines as he starts to switch with every thrust. First her pussy, then her ass hole and then her pussy again.

Seulgi can't do anything but lie there, feeling her holes getting used in such an unholy manner.

She is a mumbling mess underneath him, feeling his cock in her ass and then in her pussy again.

Her eyes rest on his sweat covered body as she feels him trying to hold back his climax. As they lock eyes, they both know that this is the last one. The pair is too drained to go on much longer.

"On my face. I want it on my face."

The man nods, unable to form words. Seulgi's ass too tight for him to think straight.

He manages to switch between her holes for a couple of times, before he finally pulls out once and for all.

With awkward movements, Seulgi manages to push herself off the couch. Her limbs feel like pudding, her energy barely enough to keep her eyes open.

He strokes himself to climax as he stares at Seulgi in front of him.

How is she still able to look this cute?

That thought rushes through his head, right before he orgasms. His load isn't as big as it used to. Seulgi's pussy has claimed more of it for itself already.

It's still enough to make her sigh with pleasure though. The warm cum covers her nose and cheeks.

IU opens her eyes. She looks around the room, realizing that she is the only one. And a moment later she recognizes her bedroom. How did she get here?

She hears someone in the kitchen, fumbling with the pans.

Ji-eun tries to get up. Her body feels soar all over. She feels like she has been hit by a truck. Her body seems to be clean on the outside, but not on the inside. She can feel someone's cum in her pussy and ass. Her throat is still sticky, making it hard to breathe.

IU can't even remember how many guys came in her throat as she reaches for the glass of water on her night stand.

Her feet barely lift off the ground as she stumbles into the kitchen, only wearing a robe.

Seulgi seems to be making egg fried rice.

"Hello, sleepyhead."

Seulgi chuckles at IU's perplexed look on her face.

"I brought you here after you passed out. Do you know how long it took me to get all of that cum off your skin?"

IU shakes her head.

Seulgi pours the rice into two bowls.

"I have good news."

Ji-eun is only able to sit down at the counter, waiting for Seulgi to hand her a spoon.

"I found someone knew to compete with us."

IU looks up. Her eyes still look sleepy and tired and exhausted. And yet, Seulgi is able to catch a glimpse of lust in them.

"Who?"

"She should be here any minute."

In that moment the doorbell rings.

"She and her members had a similar competition. Like the two of us. She won and is looking for women, who are on her level. I told her we got fucked by forty guys at the same time."

Seulgi says as she walks towards the door.

"I-I'm not sure if I can start having sex again immediately. Maybe give me a couple of days."

IU's tired, hoarse voice makes Seulgi chuckle.

"Don't worry. Me and Jennie already have something planned for the two of us."

She opens the door.

"Hi Seulgi!"

Jennie and Seulgi hug each other.

"Ready to go to the movies?"

"Yeah, just let me eat dinner."

"What?"

Only now IU realises what time it is. She slept the whole day.

"Hi, unnie."

Jennie waves at her. The older woman takes a look at her outfit. She immediately knows that watching a movie will not be the only thing they do in the cinema.

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

(Alternative ending)

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoy the first story of the December special.

I haven't written something like this before, so I'm not sure how well it turned out. I did my best to write a good build up, because I didn't want to jump straight into the main part.

Have a great day! See you next week for the second one!

[lucy90712]

Can you do a Jude Bellingham imagine where his girlfriend is very burnt out from school. They do long distance so she tries to get everything done so she can go spend time with him & watch him play. One day when she lands to watch him play against Barcelona he finds her stress crying in the room alone because she tries to be there for everyone around her but it’s costing her to stress out about getting things in on time. Somehow Jude calms her & they enjoy their day before he plays against Barcelona.

Thank you

-a very stressed & burnt out student

A/n: this is me right now too, I hope things get easier for you soon

WC: 2.0k The last few weeks maybe even months have been so stressful. Ever since I went back to university I have done nothing but go to classes and study. I know it's my final year but I didn't think it would be this difficult but there is just so much to do between assignments for classes and preparations for my dissertation. For the first few weeks I feel like I was coping pretty well but recently it's all just hit me like a truck and now I feel like I'm drowning in books and being suffocated by deadlines. 

To make it all 100 times worse where I chose to go to uni is away from my family and very far from my boyfriend. Don't get me wrong I love it here but at times like this I just wish that I had someone here to tell me it's all going to be ok. I've been really missing not just my family but my boyfriend Jude as well, I haven't seen Jude since before I came back to uni which was at the end of august and it's been killing me. I also haven't been able to talk to him as much as I would like as I've been really busy and he's been busy too with his move to Real Madrid and having to get used to living and playing over there. 

These last few months have been hard on our relationship, even though we've been long distance for a few years now we have never gone this long without seeing each other and the fact that we haven't talked as much hasn't helped. Finally we are going to see each other though as I'm flying over to see him play and just to spend a few days with him which has got me through the last few days. In order to be able to go and see Jude I have been working extra hard to get my work done as I want to actually spend time with him which I can't do if I have assignments to do but it's been difficult. All week I've only left my apartment to go to classes and I've pulled far too many all nighters but I've got quite a lot done so I guess it's somewhat worth it although I still have some things to do. 

I had an alarm set to wake me up before my flight but it wasn't needed as I'd been awake all night packing and doing uni work. The worst part was despite all my hard work I had to pack a few of my textbooks and my laptop as I didn't manage to finish everything in time. I tried to put that behind me though as I got to the airport because I still want to enjoy my time with Jude and if I'm stressed and feeling down then I'm not going to make the most of the time which I really do want to do. Jude has been telling me all week how much he's been looking forward to today he promised me that we was going to get up early to pick me up from the airport before he has to go to training which is how I know he's serious as he hates getting up in the morning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

After a few hours in the air I landed on Spanish soil and somehow I immediately felt a bit more relaxed as I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be in Jude's arms which is exactly what I need. As I got off the plane I text Jude to let him know I had landed which he answered right away telling me he was already waiting for me in the arrivals lounge with a disguise on so he didn't get recognised. Knowing he was waiting for me made me walk a bit quicker to collect my bag and once it was in sight I grabbed it and ran towards where Jude would be waiting for me. 

It took me a minute to find Jude but eventually I saw him stood with a hat and sunglasses on which didn't offer much of a disguise but he wasn't surrounded by people so clearly it does something. Once he saw me coming he swiftly made his way over until he was close enough to pick me up and nearly kill me with how tightly he held me. It felt so good to be in his arms again and smell his cologne it made me feel like I was home again which is exactly what I've been needing. Jude held onto me for a good while before he took my bag in one hand and my hand in the other leading me out to his car which was parked outside. Once we got in the car Jude leaned straight over the centre console and smashed his lips onto mine which led to us making out for a bit too long so we had to rush back to Jude's place on he could drop me off before going to his training session. 

Once Jude had left I went and made myself some breakfast as I didn't have time to eat before I left and I had to make myself a cup of tea because despite being in Spain I'm still British and we can't go a day without a cup of tea. Jude knows me well enough that he had brought a new pack of my favourite tea and put it on a shelf he knows I can reach along with a mug which he had clearly just brought for me. I enjoyed my cup of tea before I took my bag upstairs to go and unpack. To my surprise the room was quite clean and Jude had cleaned out one of his draws for me, well not quite there was a few hoodies and t shirts in there still but he left me a note telling me I can wear them so they are mine now. Of course I had to put a hoodie on before starting to unpack all of my stuff. 

I unpacked most of my stuff pretty quickly but then I got to the bottom of my suitcase and saw just how many text books and folders I had to pack. Seeing it made the realisation hit me that I still have so much work to do and once again all of the stresses started weighing down on me like it was physically crushing me. All week I've been so deep into work mode I bottled up all my emotions but now they are all coming out at once and for some reason I can't stop crying. It's like all of the pressure and stress has finally reached the surface and the mental breakdown all my friends warned was coming has finally arrived. I've never felt so overwhelmed in my life and I just don't know how to cope all I do know is that I need to get myself together before Jude gets back as I don't want to worry him plus I want to enjoy our time together. 

My attempts to calm myself down didn't go well if anything I just got more overwhelmed and cried more. I was so in my own world that I completely lost track of time so when I heard the front door close and Jude call my name I panicked. As his footsteps got closer to the bedroom I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face but then I realised my eyes would still be all red so I just put the hood on the hoodie up to try and cover my face.

"Hi darling do you need any help unpacking?" Jude asked a he walked in 

"N-no I'm f-fine" I sniffled

"Babe what's wrong?" He asked clearly concerned 

"Nothing" I said 

"I know you're lying to me I can hear you sniffling what's made you so upset you know you can tell me anything" he said trying to make me open up

"I'm sorry I'm just stressed I've got so much work to do for uni I worked so hard all week so we could actually spend some time together but I couldn't finish everything and now I have loads of texts books in my suitcase and I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed I'm really sorry I'm ruining our time together" I rambled 

"Hey hey slow down it's ok there's no need to be sorry it's ok tell me exactly what's going on and we can fix it together" Jude comforted 

"I still have two assignments I need to finish before the end of the week and I'm so exhausted from pulling so many all nighters but I just want to actually spend some time with you because I've really missed you" I said a bit more calmly this time 

"Ok we can work this out I know you're tired but how about I help you finish those assignments then we can just have a relaxing evening together get some sleep and be ready to do something together tomorrow" Jude suggested 

"That sounds good" I said 

Jude then picked me up and sat me on his bed before grabbing my laptop and books for me. I explained to him what I needed to do and then we go to work together. One of my assignments I just needed to reread so Jude did that for me to make sure there were no mistakes then I just needed to finish one other assignment and then do the same. Jude was so helpful and read the parts of my textbooks I needed to me while I typed and he let me talk through my ideas with him even though he doesn't understand what I'm studying. In just over and hour we were done and I instantly felt so much better and when Jude started giving me kisses I felt even better. 

 Being the amazing boyfriend that he is Jude got some chocolate from downstairs for me to eat while he ran a bath for the both of us to share. It was only when Jude came to ask me which bubble bath I prefer that I realised just how much he had brought for my visit. He doesn’t like to take baths so he wouldn’t have bubble bath just lying around and the chocolate I was eating was my favourite one so he must’ve got that especially for me as well. Jude is such a sweet boyfriend all the time but little things like this just make me realise how truly perfect he is and it makes me so grateful that I ended up with Jude as I know he truly cares for me. 

Once the bath was ready Jude helped me get in then he got in himself and sat behind me letting me rest my back against his chest. The entire atmosphere was so relaxing which helped me finally let go of all the stress and anxiety that has been fuelling me for the last few weeks. Nothing needed to be said either both of us were more than content just sitting there in silence as Jude’s fingers played with the rings on my hand especially the promise ring which he gave me last Valentine’s Day which I think is my favourite piece of jewellery I own. After a while of just relaxing Jude started to wash my body for me which meant I didn’t have to move at all as his hands gently rubbed over my skin. 

Once the both of us were clean we got out the bath and Jude gave me some of his clothes for me to put on which I very happily did. He then picked me up and carried me downstairs to the sofa where he piled blankets on top of me before sitting down and spreading them out properly. All of the sudden I felt the tiredness take over so I snuggled up to Jude and just let my eyes close and sleep consume me. Just as I was drifting off I felt Jude kiss the top of my head and whisper I love you which put a smile on my face just as I went into a dreamland. 

[bngtanah]

I’m (not) With The Band. | 15

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

prologue pairing: idol!Yoongi  x black!OC word count: 4.4k genre: drama, romance warning: relationship tension, workplace relationship, secrecy, sexual attraction, ambw, fluff, online bullying, anxiety, explicit language.

Tokyo had become a closed circuit.

Hotel. Studio. Hotel. Studio. Repeat. Like the city itself had conspired to collapse into a tunnel with no exit, no windows, just a single, blinding light labeled deadline . Adrienne moved through it like a trained animal, hitting her marks with precision. Wake. Dress. Don’t think too long in the mirror. Step into the elevator. Enter the studio like it’s not eating you alive.

The unit had declared themselves a “united front,” and in most ways, it was true. On paper, at least. Yoongi was relentless. Jimin, dependable. Jungkook, quietly protective. Even Jin, in his orbiting way, made sure she was seen. But inside the walls — the real ones — the ones she had built to survive, the ones the industry had weaponized against her — the cuts had already started.

Yoongi showed up to the studio before her every day. Never said it aloud, but it was understood: if there was anything off, anything out of place, he’d catch it first. He walked the space like a bodyguard before a performance. Checked the whiteboard. Double-checked the production notes. Coordinated the day’s workflow with clinical efficiency. His voice had taken on a quality she’d never heard before — not cold, exactly, but decisive. Sharp. Any conversation that didn't serve the project, or her, was deflected, redirected, or shut down.

He didn’t say I’m protecting you. He didn’t need to.

At first, she’d been grateful. Relieved, even. But after a week, the protection started to feel like surveillance. Like she had been placed in a pressure-sealed chamber where the only acceptable emotion was productivity. No breath, no cracks, no room for fear or fatigue or fuck-ups. Just the music.

But the pressure wasn’t coming from them.

It was coming from the inside.

It started with a single, throwaway comment from Producer Park. A senior legacy figure in the label. The kind of man who wore his history like armor — who’d built a career on being unmovable.

Adrienne had just locked a synth line she liked — textured, minimal, just a little off-kilter. Something that sounded like memory fraying at the edges. She was deep in it, headphones on, when he leaned in over her shoulder without warning.

"Interesting choice," he said. “Very... Western.”

There was nothing inherently wrong with the words. But they landed like a slap.

Her jaw tightened. She didn’t turn around. “The international market responds to layered tones. It’s strategic.”

He hummed like he was being generous. “Perhaps. But sometimes, simple and melodic lands better with our core fans. Less cerebral. More emotional.”

She let the silence sit between them. Let it hum with all the things she wasn’t going to say.

It’s not about the melody, is it? It’s the fact that I’m here, doing this at all.

Yoongi was on the other side of the room, deep in something with Sejin, completely unaware. And Adrienne? She added it to the pile. The paper cuts. The kind that bled more in the dark.

Later that afternoon, someone "forgot" to include her in the studio’s group lunch order. A junior assistant, eyes wide with manufactured guilt.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I completely blanked. It’s been such a busy day—"

Adrienne smiled. Tight. Hollow. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t.

But she knew what would happen if she made it a thing. She’d be called difficult. Emotional. Aggressive. The foreigner with an attitude.

So she swallowed it. Again.

And again.

And again.

She didn’t tell Yoongi. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she knew exactly how he would react. And right now, she needed him clear. Focused. Not burning the studio to the ground over microaggressions she could technically survive.

Instead, she came in every day and did the work. Pushed her voice until it cracked, then recorded through the cracks. Accepted critiques that were never critiques. Just knives with soft handles.

Yoongi thought he was shielding her. And in some ways, he was. But he didn’t know where the real wounds were.

He was fighting dragons.

But she was dying from poison in the drinking water.

Yoongi hadn’t slept properly in a week. Not real sleep. Not the kind that folded you down into the mattress and left you weightless. His nights were fractured things. Shallow stretches of unconsciousness between studio runs and strategy meetings, between tracking vocal layers and trying to convince PR not to run another preemptive statement.

He lived in caffeine and compression timelines now. Blood replaced with coffee and adrenaline. He didn’t need rest. He needed results.

The pressure had calcified into purpose. Get the album done. Keep her safe. Finish what they started.

Everything else was noise.

In the studio, he was sharper than ever and relentless in a way that even surprised himself. He cut through bad takes and weak pitches with surgical precision. He kept her fed, hydrated, shielded. When something even hinted at being overwhelming; an overlong meeting, an underprepared coordinator, he shut it down before she had to lift a finger. His instinct to protect her had turned into strategy, into control.

He arranged their sessions meticulously, stacking the day to create maximum output with minimum friction. She never asked for it, but she hadn’t pushed back either. He told himself that was confirmation. That she needed  his structure, his planning, the wall he was building around her, brick by carefully measured brick.

He knew the others saw it too. Jimin made a quiet point to check on her in the mornings. Namjoon made sure to include her name in praise during staff meetings, so the higher-ups didn’t forget who was shaping half the album. Jungkook lingered after vocal tracking, hanging back like a watchdog in a hoodie.

It filled Yoongi with something close to pride. This was what it meant to be a team. This was the line in the sand. They were holding it.

And still, sometimes (usually when she thought he wasn’t looking) he caught it. A shadow across her expression. A silence that felt deeper than exhaustion.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

He told himself it was stress. Fatigue. The intensity of the work. She was holding up, she was here . That had to mean she was okay.

He didn’t see the slow shift in her posture after meetings. The way she’d flinch when someone else spoke over her. The way her smile turned more rehearsed, more careful. He chalked it all up to pressure. Expected it. This is what it means to be great , he told himself. This is the fire we walk through to get there.

But there was something else underneath. Something he didn’t know how to name.

He noticed Producer Park’s sudden interest but he misread the shape of it. Park had always been territorial, allergic to innovation. Yoongi had gone head-to-head with him a dozen times over creative direction. This was nothing new.

If anything, he thought Park’s skepticism of Adrienne was a mark of respect. You don’t challenge what you don’t take seriously. It didn’t occur to him that what was happening wasn’t about her work. Not really. He didn’t hear the way “Western” hit different when it was aimed at her.

He didn’t hear the quiet violence in that word.

He missed it.

And that was the real failure. Not the war he was fighting for her — but the smaller one he couldn’t even see.

The hallway was quiet in that late-night way only hotels could master, scrubbed sterile and humming low with machinery no one ever saw. Hoseok walked with his hoodie up and headphones in, not listening to anything, just using the wire as an excuse not to talk. He had just left the gym, sweat drying cold against his skin, the ache in his legs a dull, welcome burn.

He wasn't even sure what he was trying to work off. The tension. The weight. The static that had crept into all their interactions lately, like someone had turned the dial on the whole world just slightly too loud.

As he turned the corner near the staff elevator, voices pulled him out of his thoughts. Two. Low. Not urgent, but close. He slowed, pressed his back to the wall instinctively, the way you do when you aren’t supposed to be listening but can't stop yourself.

Choi’s voice was the first one he recognized, even and professional, the rhythm of someone used to giving bad news with soft edges.

“…the publisher backed off. Legal pressure helped, but the files are still out there. We’re just plugging leaks at this point. Whack-a-mole.”

A sigh. Then another voice, heavier, older, sharpened with something bitter.

“It’s a mess,” Producer Park muttered. “All of this, over her.”

Her. It hit Hoseok’s bloodstream like a cold splash of water. He didn’t breathe.

“I told Bang PD from the start,” Park went on, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Bringing in an outsider was always going to be a risk. These foreigners, they don’t work like we do. They have different priorities. Different standards.”

Choi didn’t immediately push back. Her silence rang louder than Park’s words.

“Yoongi’s too close,” Park continued. “You can see it. He’s let her in too far, and now the whole project is unbalanced. She’s got him twisted. Look at how he talks about her songs. Look at how the others coddle her. This wasn’t supposed to be a daycare. She’s not even Korean. She doesn’t understand the core of what we do here.”

It wasn’t just criticism. It was dismissal. Erasure. Park wasn’t talking about creative process anymore. He was talking about Adrienne’s right to exist in the space at all. And there was something in his voice that made Hoseok’s fists curl without permission.

“She’s talented,” Choi said eventually, her voice stiff. “Namjoon said her bridge on the title track changed the whole direction of the album.”

“Maybe. But talent isn’t everything. Not when it’s loud. Not when it disrupts the tone. Her music doesn’t carry han . It lacks subtlety. It’s too much. She’s too much.”

Hoseok took a step back, chest tight, nausea creeping up his throat. He slipped away before they could see him, the corridor stretching cold and endless in front of him. His legs carried him back to his room automatically, but his mind was still stuck in that hallway. In that moment.

He had always known Adrienne was under pressure, that the whispers around her weren’t just internet noise. But now the shape of it was fully visible. The ugliness was out in the open.

And for the first time, Hoseok felt truly powerless.

He couldn't tell Yoongi. It would ignite him. He would burn the whole building down and the fire would take Adrienne with it. He couldn't tell Adrienne either. It would only break her heart more than the system already had and confirm what he knew she already feared — that the walls were closing in.

So he kept it to himself.

Locked it down tight.

And with the weight of it sitting heavy on his chest, Hoseok did the only thing he could do.

He stayed close.

The first time it happened, she almost convinced herself it was an honest mistake.

A corrupted hard drive. A junior engineer’s panicked expression. A brittle apology, all breathless regret and fast blinking. “We’re so sorry, Adrienne-ssi, I don’t know what happened. It just… glitched.”

It was one of the external drives Yoongi had labeled for her exclusive use. Two weeks of work: synth layering, harmony tracking, a stripped vocal arrangement she had finally started to like — all wiped. Gone.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t even flinch. She just nodded once and asked for a replacement drive. Then she sat at her workstation for twelve hours straight and rebuilt the tracks from memory, every note a defiance, every correction a middle finger.

But the moment stayed lodged in her like a splinter. Not because of the error itself — things like that happened in any studio — but because of what followed.

Nothing.

No check-in from the engineer. No explanation from the department head. No acknowledgment of the inconvenience, the delay, the exhaustion. Just a quiet silence that dared her to say something. A silence that said, You're lucky to be here. Don’t make it harder than it already is.

After that, the frequency changed.

Lunch orders started getting “accidentally” misrouted. Meeting invites came late or not at all. Notes from producers that were normally circulated to everyone in the studio seemed to skip her entirely. If she asked, someone would laugh and say, “Oh, didn’t you see the update? Sorry, thought you were copied.”

They were small things. Easy to explain away. But she could feel them accumulating. Shifting the center of the room until she was no longer in it.

She began to eat more meals in her hotel room. Not because she wanted to — but because the weight of trying to pretend she belonged in the shared kitchen, with its chatter and cliques and coded language, was more exhausting than the isolation.

Even her own presence started to feel like an interruption. An unwanted footnote.

And Yoongi didn’t see it.

He saw the war as a front-facing battle. Public-facing, press-facing. He was fighting in headlines and meetings and press briefings. He had no idea that the air she was breathing had gone thin, that the people around her had stopped meeting her eyes.

When Park publicly critiqued her demo — the one she and Yoongi had labored over for days — it was so casually brutal it took the breath right out of her lungs.

“Technically proficient,” he said, tilting his head like he was doing her a favor by being polite. “But it lacks soul. Feels like it’s trying too hard.”

The words landed like a slap in front of a full room. She had seen Park ignore tracks that were half-finished, let entire bridge sections slide because a male producer had asked for “a vibe check.” But for her, it was a public bloodletting.

Yoongi had gone stone-cold beside her, posture snapping upright like a sword drawn. “Actually,” he’d said, voice low and dangerous, “it’s the most honest thing on the album. And if you can’t hear that, you’re not listening.”

The silence in the room was long and uncomfortable.

Yoongi had thought he was defending her. And maybe he was. But the impact wasn’t a shield — it was a spotlight. A flare of attention that only made her more visible. More alien. And even more alone.

The music was still her only refuge.

In the quiet of the night, long after the others had left the studio, she would sit alone with her headphones and try to stitch herself back together through the work. Her favorite parts weren’t the high-impact songs, the ones the press would latch onto. They were the quieter interludes. The brief, almost cinematic transitions between tracks. The places where the story was told not in lyrics, but in textures — a trembling piano loop, a whisper of harmony tucked behind the beat.

She lived for those seconds. Because in those moments, she wasn’t Adrienne the scandal. Adrienne the foreigner. Adrienne the burden. She was just… a musician.

But every morning she had to face the building again. Every polite smile from a staffer came with a lingering look she couldn’t decode. Every hushed conversation that ended when she walked in scraped a little deeper.

Yoongi still brought her coffee every day. Still shielded her from nonsense meetings, still watched her with that intense, silent focus that made her feel like the only person in the room. But even his protection had become something complicated. Something sharp-edged.

He started speaking for her more in creative meetings. Started “correcting” the tone of her notes before she even finished them. Not because he didn’t trust her — but because he was trying to preempt the criticism.

He didn’t realize he was sanding her down to something she wasn’t.

And still, she didn’t tell him. Couldn’t. Because she knew how hard he was trying. And because somewhere inside, a small, wounded voice was starting to whisper that maybe it wasn’t just them.

Maybe it was her.

Maybe she didn’t belong here after all.

It was sometime after midnight when she finally gave in and opened her photos app.

She should have been asleep. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. There were stems waiting for her in the Dropbox, harmonies that needed layering, and a synth line she couldn’t decide whether to double or scrap entirely. But none of that mattered right now.

All that mattered was the quiet ache in her chest that hadn’t let up since the studio door had clicked shut behind her.

The room was cold, overly sterilized by hotel air-conditioning that never quite turned off. Her untouched dinner sat on the tray by the window, long gone cold, condensation pooled under the water bottle. Her laptop, still open, played a silent YouTube tab she’d clicked hours ago and never watched.

She scrolled.

The photos weren’t even new. They were screenshots from Danielle’s Instagram, ones she had already seen and liked with a heart emoji and a fire emoji and a comment that read “my goddess, my hero, my big sister ❤️” like everything was fine.

But they didn’t look fine now.

Danielle, radiant in her third-trimester glow, surrounded by pastel balloons and plates of coconut cupcakes, holding a tiny, floral-print onesie with Zoe's name on it. Laughter. Brown bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. Smiles wide enough to be heard through the screen. A life.

A home.

Adrienne had missed the whole thing. The baby shower. The ceremony. The chance to be there, to lay hands on the belly that carried her niece. All traded for what? Silence. Suspicion. A hotel suite that smelled like bleach and overcooked rice.

Her throat burned.

Before she could think too hard about it, she opened her contacts and tapped Danielle’s name.

The phone rang three times.

“Andy?” Danielle’s voice was warm, still heavy with sleep but instantly alert. “Is everything okay?”

It took Adrienne a second to speak. She stared at her reflection in the dark window, phone pressed to her cheek like a lifeline.

“Yeah,” she said, too quickly. “Yeah, I just… I wanted to hear your voice.”

Danielle exhaled, something fond and familiar sliding into her tone. “I was just dreaming about chicken nuggets. Like, the good ones. The cafeteria ones from middle school.”

Adrienne let out a small, choked laugh. “You’re not even pregnant anymore, why are you still craving things?”

“Because my baby had excellent taste.”

There was a brief silence. Not uncomfortable, just full.

“You okay?” Danielle asked again, quieter this time. “You sound tired.”

Adrienne closed her eyes. The truth came up like a wave, huge and wild, begging to crash.

I’m tired in a way I don’t know how to fix. I’m disappearing by inches. There are people here who don’t want me in the room. I don’t think I’ve been touched in a kind way that didn’t come from Yoongi in weeks. I miss home. I miss being seen.

But she couldn’t say any of that.

Not when Danielle was already carrying so much. Not when she was glowing with the love of bringing new life into this world. Adrienne couldn’t — wouldn’t — spill her black ink into that kind of joy.

So she swallowed it. Tucked it somewhere deep.

“I’m okay,” she said, forcing her voice into something light. “Things are actually… going well. It’s intense, but it’s good. The work is some of the best I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah?” Danielle sounded hopeful, which made it worse. “Are the guys still looking out for you?”

“They’ve been incredible. Yoongi’s… he’s been amazing. Like a one-man security team-slash-producer-slash-therapist.”

“That’s my girl.” Danielle’s voice turned soft, teasing. “Falling for someone with range.”

Adrienne laughed. It was real, for a second. Then it burned out.

They talked for another fifteen minutes. About the baby (still an infant, not doing much), about Danielle’s newest weird craving (red licorice and pickled eggs, which Adrienne tried very hard not to react to), and about a half-hearted plan to FaceTime sometime soon.

Adrienne kept the smile in her voice. Let Danielle hear the strong, thriving version of her. The version that could still be a role model, a pillar, a sister.

By the time they hung up, the phone screen went dark in her hand, and the silence that followed was thick and brutal.

She had lied.

Not a white lie. Not a protective fib.

She had lied, straight through her teeth, to the one person in the world she had never lied to before. Not even once. And now the lie sat in the room with her, heavier than grief, colder than exhaustion.

The truth wasn’t safe to speak aloud anymore. Not even here. Not even to the person who’d once held her hair back when she threw up on her birthday. Who had walked her through the trauma of her first breakup. Who had flown across an ocean when Adrienne lost her scholarship and felt too ashamed to go home.

That distance had been circumstantial. This one was deliberate.

She had built this wall herself. A fortress of silence and pretend victories. And now she was stuck behind it, alone.

The loneliness hit her so hard she had to curl in on herself just to breathe.

He didn’t knock. He never knocked anymore.

It was nearly 2:00 a.m., and the hallway lights outside Adrienne’s room flickered low and yellow. The hotel was silent, save for the hum of vending machines and the soft shuffle of his own sneakers against the carpet. His shoulders ached from hours hunched over the mixing desk, but he barely noticed. His mind was on fire. Not frantic. Not chaotic. Just bright. Like something had finally clicked into place after days of feeling stuck underwater.

He had it. The bridge.

It had come to him like lightning, sudden and merciless. A perfect, aching run of chords that bent toward Hoseok’s verse and snapped clean into Namjoon’s without losing the thread. It was balanced, bold. It felt inevitable. A tether. It was the piece they’d been circling for weeks.

He unlocked her door and stepped in.

“Andy,” he called softly, already smiling. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

But the room didn’t answer him back.

The lights were off, the curtains drawn. Adrienne was curled on the corner of the bed, still dressed, laptop open but asleep or nearly there. He could tell from the angle of her body that she hadn’t moved in a while. Not really. Not since he left.

There was a room service tray on the console, covered but untouched. The condensation on the water glass had pooled into a perfect ring. The place smelled like takeout steam and cold linen and something else he couldn’t quite name.

She looked up at him when he came closer. Her face was bare. Not just of makeup, but of expression.

His smile faltered.

“I got it,” he said anyway, voice low with triumph. “The bridge. It’s done. It’s clean and weird and bold and—hell, it’s us. You’ll hear it and know.”

He waited.

She didn’t say anything for a long beat. Then she nodded. Slow. As if the motion cost her something.

“That’s great, Gi,” she said softly.

Not sarcastic. Not dismissive. But also not… present.

Yoongi dropped his bag by the door and moved toward her, kneeling at the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, eyes glancing somewhere near his shoulder. “Nothing. Long day.”

He hated that phrase. It always meant something worse.

He reached for her hand, found it cold and limp in his. She let him hold it, didn’t pull away, but her fingers didn’t tighten around his either.

Yoongi’s mind scrambled. He had done everything right. He’d cleared her schedule. Argued with staff. Thrown himself between her and every executive with an agenda. This project was clean now. Sharp. Their best work. The album was shaping up into something transformative. Something undeniable.

And Adrienne looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

“We’re almost there,” he said, desperate to share what he was feeling. “The title track’s done. Once it drops, once they hear it—they’ll shut up. All of them. The whole fucking world.”

She just looked at him.

No spark. No fight. Just something tired, and quiet, and far away.

He moved closer. Brushed a hand across her cheek, trying to will something back into her. “A little longer, okay? We finish strong. We put it out, and we get to be proud of what we made.”

Adrienne smiled then, but it was the kind of smile that belonged to a woman drowning politely in a crowded room. Not because she couldn’t scream, but because screaming would make everyone else uncomfortable.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He pulled her into his chest. Felt her tuck herself under his chin, arms winding around his middle like muscle memory. He stroked her back, slowly, like it would undo whatever had frayed. Like touch could fix what language hadn’t.

She let him.

And he thought: this is enough. This is how you hold someone through the worst of it.

But as Adrienne rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and breathing in his familiar scent, she felt a profound and devastating sense of loneliness. She was in the arms of the man she loved, a man who would go to war for her, and she had never felt more alone in her life. The thought, once a fleeting whisper, now became a clear, solid resolve in her mind.

I can’t stay here.

She would finish the album. She would give him this victory, this masterpiece they had forged in the fire. And then, she would go home. It was the only way to save herself. And, she thought with a heartbreaking pang of clarity, it was probably the only way to save him, too.

[okdeannawrites]

WIP Tuesday/Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @endwersed yesterday, but I missed seeing it due to a busy workday, so I'm doing it today instead!

I had hoped to have this one-shot completed by now, but busy work days and unexpected tragedies made it impossible for me to concentrate. This was not a personal tragedy so much as a neighborhood tragedy/loss, but it easily could have been a personal tragedy for me and my parents and that's been a hard thing to have on my mind. It definitely made it difficult to feel creative when the real world came far too close to changing forever for me.

At any rate, this is a small portion of the one-shot I have been working on since the first week in May. I hope to have it completed in the next couple of days, but I am going to miss my own Sterek Writers Event April prompts deadline. I wish I wasn't but there is no way I can finish this with only an hour to spare when I get off work tonight. It will just have to be for another day. Either way, I hope you enjoy this little taste of something new.

Here's a snippet of my Sterek fic (rated E):

CW: mentions of scars, violence, blood letting, loss of life

A Song Inside My Soul

There was a scar on his right leg, high up on his thigh. A leftover remnant of a fight gone wrong. Where an evil sorceress stabbed him with a dagger, desperate to complete her ritual by bleeding him out.

She almost succeeded.

Almost.

Another few minutes and he’d probably be having these thoughts from the other side. Or maybe he’d just be dead, lying buried and forgotten in the ground like yesterday’s leftovers.

He didn’t remember much about the confrontation with the witch. He’d been so out of it, there was no way he could piece it together at the time. But he knew all kinds of things about its aftermath.

Large, shaky hands that tried to stop his bleeding.

Warm muscular arms that picked him up from the cold, stone floor, rapidly carrying him out to safety.

The soft, frantic voice in his ear. Begging him to hold on. Not go to sleep.

To fight. Just a little bit longer.

He dreamed about that moment sometimes. All those little details. All the things his brain had caught on, catalogued for him in the chaos of escape.

Small things, mostly.

The way the brisk pace jostled him against a hard chest that rose and fell with disjointed, hurried breaths.

The way other voices called out to him. Some hysterical, others more subdued. As if he’d already died, and they were watching a wild, terrified Derek Hale carry his lifeless body out of the warehouse and toward his car.

It was crazy, in hindsight, the things his memory amassed in those brief, half-strewn  moments. Yet, his brain understood it. Probably more than anyone else in the world ever could.

Well, anyone other than Derek.

He still didn’t know how the older man came to be there, or how he felt about any of what happened after the pack killed the witch. If the wolf ever thought about that day, that moment coming out of the warehouse, when all the world slowed to a stop and the only thing in existence was the pain, the cold—and the man who rushed him toward safety, toward help.

The man who literally kept him alive.

Stiles wanted to think Derek did remember. Did think about it.

But he also feared maybe he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t.

Ninety-one days felt like a lifetime ago. Things were different then.

Before. During. After.

Nothing was the same as it had been. Especially not him.

A single instant, and his whole world changed—his whole life, a-blink-and-you-miss-it disappearance before his eyes.

Maybe Derek’s world had changed, too. Maybe that was why he’d avoided Stiles for so long. Maybe he couldn’t look at him. Not without remembering that day, that moment. The rapid breaths and frantic heartbeats.

Or maybe, as Stiles feared, it didn’t even register for him. Didn’t mean anything at all. Just another instance in a long line of instances of one guy helping another guy out. No more, no less.

It felt like more though, but he thought it was probably less. A lot less. Way more less than his stubborn brain had built it up in his head to be.

Probably. Maybe. Almost certainly.

Shaking his head, Stiles tossed the soft, weighted ball in his hand toward the rim hooked on the back of his bedroom door. He watched the small sphere bounce back toward him and frowned when it disappeared somewhere in the minuscule gap between his bed and his nightstand. He groaned and immediately shifted to lean over, then hesitated, and laid back down on his back again.

He knew it was stupid. Knew his fractured ribs were fully healed—he’d gotten the doctor’s all clear and everything. Still, it smarted a bit. Sometimes. Not like hurt, nothing like that, but his brain reminded him of the trauma with certain movements now, and it made him cautious. Probably too cautious.

“Fuck it,” he murmured, twisting on the bed to reach out for his ball. He stopped short when another hand— a large, tan hand with a scattering of thin, tiny black hairs—reached for it.

His gaze shot upward, unerringly connecting with a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions. A beat passed, then another, before he finally got a hold of himself and huffed out, “I could’ve got it.”

He eased back up onto the bed and scooted around until his back hit the wooden headboard, and he sat upright instead of prone. He didn’t bother to glance at Derek again, but he felt his presence all the same.

“I know you could have gotten it,” Derek replied simply. He tossed the stupid orange ball to him as if it wasn’t a potential stand-in for a secret attack weapon, and it was all Stiles could do not to twist around and throw the thing at his big, stupid head.

Except Derek wasn’t stupid, and his head wasn’t big.

Well, not that big.

Dammit.

Low pressure tags: anyone who wants to play and hasn't been tagged.

[pinkchrissysposts]

hey chrissy! I’ve been doing the ROE technique and the 3DOL it’s day 4 and I haven’t gotten anything. Today I woke up and I feel like shit since I’m still here living this life. I tried saturating my mind for the past few days idk if I failed because when I’d affirm I’d lose focus then after a few minutes I’d remember then I’d affirm again and the pattern continues. I was so confident yesterday that I’d wake up in the void but I didn’t and I will persist but it just hurts to affirm. I’m starting to feel like I don’t deserve this or something but I’ll keep persisting. Idk if it’s my affirmations or if my intrusive thoughts impressed my subconscious because whenever I unintentionally think about school and my deadline and just this life as a whole and “what if nothing happens?” “What if this is all fake?” “What if I wake up here again?” I literally feel my stomach turn and my heart sink and it’s so annoying but I keep affirming. My question is if my intrusive thoughts are impressing mu subconscious which is why I keep failing because if it is then I’m fucked💀 because I feel nice when I visualise my life afterwards and affirm waking up in the void but I always feel the most whenever I think the opposite. Normally I manifest small things I don’t give a shit about but it’s normally me affirming not feeling anything at all and then I imagine the idea of that thing happening and then I forget about it. But i feel like if I forget about the void I’ll never ever achieve it and my life is falling apart. I’ve been reading success stories that have to do with affirming and they were lucky enough to do it in a short span and I’m just scared for myself overall and idk if I will be able to as well. Because of how lucky they are I even question if this is all real😭😭 like I’ll be feeling content and a little confident (some anxiety is still there) when I affirm and I’m like okay I’ll wake up in it tonight then I wake up and feel my chest ache to see the same thing again🗿 do I have to affirm every minute without stopping or something? because my attention span is short and I lose focus easily or is it my affirmations?

I affirm “roe i wake up in the void aware every time I fall asleep” and then I say “roe i always manifest/ my affirmations instantly manifest/materialise in 3 days or less”

I think you just lose focus😭but it's fine I had an anon who was also was suffering with the same issue because she have adhd and anxiety but after a month she dm me again saying she entered void. What helped her is doing a 3 minute breathwork before her her saturation session and doing eft tapping whenever negative thoughts start to distract her,it took her a week but she never no matter what or how much anxiety she had let 3D lead her. If you felt like it's not gonna work then take at 15 minutes and let yourself feel those emotions,then take a deep breath and go for affirming or deciding. I read a post by a blogger saying that.

And never ever think that you don't deserve void then you are absolutely wrong,because you are void,when we sleep we're in void it's just we are not aware of it. You are literally sinning if you ere not letting yourself have the desire. You must remember that desire or thing or void didn't have any meaning to it until you decided to give it all the power and keeping it in pedestal,if you didn't know about void it wouldn't even exist in your reality. So never let those thoughts lead you to an u desirable state.

[lindyloosims]

Chapter Three, Part Four:

"Hey Rox, how's the patient?" "Grumpy, angry, sad, frustrated…"

"Okay okay, I get it! So what did the doctor say?" "She's to stay off the ankle for at least a week! Which is a bummer as she has a lot of work to do on the diner, so that's put a real scupper on things!" Roxy sighed, a hint of resentment towards Dexter, "What possessed you Maloney?" "Huh?" Dexter feigned surprise, she was onto him! "Why did you tell Rob Lainie loved to dance? What was that all about?"

"It was just a joke!" Dex replied sheepishly. "Well it wasn't funny!" Roxy scolded him. "Some people just don't get my sense of humour…can I see her?" Dex looked down at the ground like a naughty school boy as Roxy huffed impatiently. "Okay, but don't annoy her! She's really down about this!"

"Hey freckles!" Dex greeted Lainie chirpily, but seeing her sad little face was like a knife to his heart. "Hey!" she replied half heartedly. "No worries, you'll be up and about in no time!" "I can be up right now, it's not that bad, but the doctor says it will be worse in the morning and I won't be able to walk!" "Is there anything I can do?"

"You could maybe get me a time machine and stop me from going on that date! Why did I dance with him? I can't dance! Of all the things to…just my luck huh?" Roxy hadn't told Lainie that Dex was responsible for her disastrous date?

Dex sat down beside Lainie and felt rather awkward. "You want me to…get you anything? Water, tea, some caramel coffee?" he laughed softly, remembering fondly the night she came to tell him off for making so much noise in her pyjamas…and how could he forget her little kitty cat slippers?

She didn't laugh back, she didn't even answer him. "Look, maybe I don't have a big blue box that can take the pain away and erase the past 24 hours but…I do have loads of DVDs and a heap of time on my hands so I'll go get them and grab us some corn for poppin' and we can just veg out! How does that sound eh?" "Okay!" she finally replied, "Thanks pretty boy, you're a sweetheart!"

When Dex came racing into the flat and grabbed up all his DVDs, Ash had told him to confess, tell her everything! And he was going to…but it just wouldn't come out of his mouth, "I really like you Lainie and that's why I sabotaged your date, I was insanely jealous!" As she rested her head on his lap and the movie ended, she let out a huge sigh. "Oh Dex, what am I going to do?" "What about freckles?" "About the diner? How am I ever going to open on Friday with my bum on the couch?"

Without thinking Dex blurted out, "I'll help you! I told you me and the guys can do stuff! Whatever you need!"

"Dexter I need a miracle! My walls and floor are done but I need to put in my counters, tables, chairs, install my kitchen! And I need to be there! It's never going to happen! I might as well give up now, Roxy was so right!"

"You'll be there even if I have to carry you around the place! It WILL happen freckles! I promise you this! We might not meet the deadline but it will open, Lainie's is going to be the best diner in Moonlight Falls! Trust me, I'm an artist!" and this time Lainie did laugh a little. "Thank you!" "It's what friends are for!" yes, friends who got you in that predicament in the first place. Roxy had thrown him a life line by not telling Lainie about his bad joke borne out of jealousy. He wasn't going to let it pass him by! He was going to make amends…

And chapter three is done! So Dexter's jealous actions had consequences, big ones! Lainie's progress on the diner has been somewhat halted! Will the boys manage to make the deadline for her? Or are her dreams going up in flames? Next time, it's all about second chances! Thanks for reading! ;o)

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

[adoracora-elizabeth]

But Papa! Why? Chapter 30

The last two weeks went differently than I had hoped and I was not able to write on this story, but here is a new chapter.

+++

Molesley entered with the tea.

"We can help ourselves from here on. Please take the afternoon off, as you were planning on." Cora said walking towards him. She had helped Robert down the stairs and made sure he sat down on a comfortable chair. "What can I offer you?" She asked Violet, while she poured tea in a cup for Robert.

"Tea is fine." Violet answered.

Cora poured herself a cup and sat down, next to Robert.

"How are things going here?" Violet started.

Robert gave Cora a glance before answering. "I think we will be back in London soon. Dr Clarkson has said that I do not need to come back for check-ups, as long as I am not getting more pain. For now, my leg only hurts when I walk up the stairs."

"Why would you do that? There is a bed downstairs. Do not tell me Cora is forcing you to sleep upstairs." Violet's eyes shot fire when she looked at Cora.

"Mama, why would you say that?" Robert was shocked by his mother's outlash.

"Did you not come from upstairs, when I arrived?"

Robert sighed. "Mama, it is very easy to jump to conclusions, but no Cora is not forcing me to sleep upstairs. On the contrary. I wanted to be up there with her myself and I will need to learn to walk the stairs again without pain, so this was a good practice. Why are you here?"

Cora looked at Robert in shock, that was a very direct and blunt question. She adored him for how he stood up for her. It had stirred something deep inside her. She knew she had made the right decision to stay with him here in England. A man who was standing up for his girlfriend was a keeper.

"Your father wants to know how things are standing with the Abbey." Violet answered.

"Does Papa want to know, or do you?" Robert's voice sounded annoyed.

"Robert." Cora said very softly, trying to calm him down. She did not want to be the reason he and his mother would fight.

Robert looked at her and back at his mother. "Mama, I am done playing games. We had enough of that. We know by now why Cora is here in England and although it is the best thing that has happened for me, we do not like to be played. The Abbey is still standing and one day we will start the renovations, but when that will be? I cannot tell you." He had put his hand on Cora's when he said she was the best thing that had happened to him. "Now, if you do not mind, Cora has a deadline she needs to work on, and we were planning on going on a little trip this afternoon."

Violet's eyebrows raised, Cora was nervous about, how she would react. "Very well, I understand. I will leave you two to it." She got up. "Let me or your Papa know when you will be back in London." Without saying another word, she left the room.

Cora felt nervous giggles coming up and she tried to suppress them, she failed miserably when Robert looked at her.

"That felt liberating." He said, with a sheepish smile.

Cora's giggles turned into a belly laugh and she let herself lean against Robert. "I was scared she would rip your head off, the way she looked at you was scary."

Robert wrapped his arm around Cora and laughed with her. "I must admit, I was not sure if I would live to see another day."

With her eyes full of love, Cora looked up at him. Her hand moved over his chest. "I am glad you will." She leaned in even more and pressed her lips on his.

Robert covered her hand with his and softly brushed over the back of her hand. "I meant what I said." He said when they broke the connection. "I cannot imagine my life without you in it anymore. Even though we met in a strange way, and I rejected you from the beginning. I know how stupid I was for not seeing you. The real, sweet, caring and smart you."

Cora's cheeks were now burning from embarrassment. "Stop it, Robert." She said.

With his finger her stroke over her cheekbone and rested his hand against her face. "With what? Telling you the truth? I will never stop telling you how amazing you are. How beautiful you are and how much I love you. My dear Cora, you do not know how much I love you."

A radiant smile appeared on Cora's face. "My dear Robert. You may act as a Donk sometimes; you are my Donk and I love you." She pressed another kiss on his lips and then pushed herself back. "I should start working, are you sure you want to go somewhere this afternoon?"

Reluctantly he let go of her. "I could not be more certain about that."

+++

"Molesley, we will not be home this weekend. If you want, you are free to go away yourself." Cora heard Robert talk to Molesley. She was surprised by his words, she had not expected to go away for the weekend, but the thought warmth her. She hoped Robert would not overdo it, but she decided to not mention it. Robert was old enough to know his own limits.

The door opened and Robert stepped into the hallway. "Oh Cora, have you managed to hit the deadline?" He said when he saw her standing there.

"We did, I was searching for you to tell you we could go."

"Good, you should pack somethings, for let's say, two nights. And I suggested a warm jumper."

Cora smiled at him. "What time do you want to leave?" She decided not to ask to many questions and let him surprise her with this trip.

"How much time do you need to be ready, do you think?"

"Give me thirty minutes and I will be ready to go wherever you want to take me."

Robert slid his arms around Cora's waist. "You are not going to ask where we are going?"

Cora shook her head. "I like a surprise."

[freesidexjunkie]

I want to know more about First Light and the Nathaniel Howe x Cousland fics please!

!!! Bestie you've made my whole morning asking about Nathaniel Howe. I love him dearly and I never get to be feral about him enough 🥺

I'm gonna start with First Light to be in order. First of all, I never looked twice at Rolan til adorabLE fics and characters for him like JUNIPER(!!) started popping up on my dash so thank you for helping indoctrinate me, 10/10 having a great time 💕 I originally wanted to write a scattered Rolanmance story of disconnected chronological scenes to build their story for Nanowrimo, and I had the whole fic plotted out and worked on by late October before school spiraled out of control and the burnout made me think all my words were garbage. The bulk of the story is slotted for act 3 scenes, but I've got a few scenes for act 2 that may or may not have varying levels of spice (we'll see what the characters feel up to ig). I see act 2 as them being relieved to find the other alive and very much getting closer to each other, but terrified to put a name on it in case the worst happens. "Yeah we are inseparable and glued together and if anything happened to him I'd probably lose every last strand of my mind but it's like. lol probably nothing serious right?" Act 3 feels more like finally being able to settle into each other without as much constantly worrying about if they'll even survive this. It's the end of the road for Rolan and it's the most stability Rhiannon has had for weeks, so now's as good a time as any to pursue a real relationship rather than stolen moments. I have plans for them to both awkwardly dance around the topic and hope the other will bring it up first; also for lots of cute teasing, some sibling antics etc. I'm super excited to get into it, but I feel like the Veilguard announcements are making me give myself a deadline for the Solavellan fic first. It's already got a whole notebook dedicated to it tho and plenty written down, so it won't get lost in the shuffle, I promise!!

And for Nathaniel....my sweet precious baby boy who I fell in love with at first sight.... my first DAO playthru ever was human noble, and I was faithfully married to the king of Fereldan but enemies to lovers has been my kryptonite since Jane Austen first got her hooks into me with P&P. I've put a lot of thought into the Cousland I would pair with him. I think the age gap between them in canon is about ~10 years, but fuck it we snip and shape canon to our own whims. Elissa Cousland (I really like the default name and I won't apologize) ~21 and Nathaniel around ~28. The Howes and the Couslands were already very familiar with each other, so Elissa and Delilah (Nate's sister) were inseparable best friends growing up. Elissa very much had a childhood crush on Nathaniel, in the "younger sister's annoying friend" kind of way that was absolutely not reciprocated. When Arl Howe says in the intro "my son was asking about you" she definitely gets major butterflies until she realizes he means Thomas. She definitely asks about Nathaniel but Bryce diplomatically shoos her away since the whole uh. Disowned and cast out thing. Not knowing how much the rest of the family is involved in Howe's betrayal and not being able to reach out to them at all really hurts her. In Awakening she's definitely intimately familiar with the castle as she grew up as a semi permanent fixture there. She doesn't hear much about the rest of the family other than that Thomas died in the blight; she's holding out hope for Delilah and Nathaniel tho. When he shows up spitting venom and letting her know in no uncertain terms that he blames her for everything.....it hurts ngl. But she conscripts him because she cannot be the person to condemn him to death. She absolutely cannot.

From there, finding Delilah alive is kinda the turning point in his anger and hatred. "You better be nice to my best friend" and "so. She's still making puppy dog eyes at you huh." Kinda thing. I have a plan for going to visit Castle Highever to fix a problem and Elissa standing up for him to Fergus, etc etc. I have so many scenes planned that are heavily enemies to lovers and heavily comfort/angst kinda stuff. I swear I'll write it one day. Thank you for letting me ramble about him tho, I owe you a life debt 🥺🥺

[doonarose]

A shitty student whinge.

I took on a mid-year Honours (fourth year full-time 9-month research project) just over a year ago. She was a bit behind in science knowledge but that isn't a real problem, we're so interdisciplinary that everyone has to start some aspects from a high school level. She was also a bit behind in lab skills but this is normal as most uni courses have heavily cut back on practical classes to save money.

What I couldn't deal with was her complete lack of accountability, independence, or problem solving. Like... zero. So my postdoc basically did her project for her, at about 10% his usual pace because he was constantly letting her put her hands on things and break them and constantly having to re-re-explain things, etc.

This was a super privileged student, as well. Came from enough money to pay full fee and have no issues buying lunch from the cafe everyday and her accommodation covered. She was international and had no caring, working, or even social responsibilities. She didn't show signs of being lonely and we worked hard in the beginning to ensure she had peers to connect with as she wished.

About 6 months into the 9 month project, the postdoc moved to a new job. She harassed the shit out of him for two weeks after asking dozens of inane questions everyday by text and email and phone call. I threatened disciplinary action to get her to finally stop.

It was at this point that I started to realize just how fucked we were.

I kicked her out of the lab with two months to write her thesis (most students continue to split their time between lab and writing but she was making zero progress).

Then she got herself a three month extension. Then she failed to write. I'm talking... a sentence a day. We got to a point where we had daily meetings to go over the single sentence she was asked to produce in a 24 hour period and she couldn't.

Anyway, I gave up, stopped scheduling meetings or asking her to hit deadlines because this was what was stressing her out and she wasn't producing anything anyhow. She didn't come to me for help or to read anything or look over her thesis or her final presentation (together worth 75% of her mark) and, she handed in a 7k thesis (meant to be 12k) that was riddled with errors and held about a month's worth of actual work. She still got a 60-something. The system is so fucked.

But whatever, put it behind me, she fucked off home. Until this week when she emailed me for a letter of recommendation... seriously...

I ignored that, obviously. And now she has just sent me a very stern 'you must provide this' and 'i can't get a job without it'.

Good. My entire plan is to ignore her. She's CC'd in the program coordinators but they also saw how useless she is. I have given glowing, strategic, honest references for many past-honours students, as well as helping get that postdoc his current position. I will back the shit out of my students if they turn up and try and act as responsible adults.

Not immature entitled fuckwit students that wasted thousands of dollars of lab kit and got knows how much of my time.

[inbatmansvoice-imdaredevil]

I will never go back to Oswego, Illinois.

“Oh it’s just Oswego. Nothing bad happens in Oswego,” they say. Their comfort dulls their senses and blinds them to the truth.

It started out innocent enough. I was hired to design an independent film. It seemed like a fun project and, most importantly, it was paid.

I was tasked with converting a bedroom in an empty rental house into the bedroom of an ‘80s teenage boy. It was mid June and I had only my older brother to help me accomplish this but I was excited. My first real gig as a production designer. I had so many ideas floating in my head I couldn’t wait to turn them into reality.

My brother and I show up to the property a week before filming is supposed to start. The producer, director, and cinematographer are all there and the cinematographer lets us in. Her grandparents own the place and the previous tenant moved out two weeks ago. We were given free rein to do whatever we wanted. A production designers dream.

We walked around looking at the rooms and determined what would be shot where. The bulk of the work would be prepping that bedroom but there were some changes to be made to the kitchen and living room as well. Before they left us to it, the producer warned us to stay out of the basement. “There’s a lot of mold down there. Stay away from the basement.”

Easy enough. We had plenty of work to do upstairs. The first day went by rather smoothly. We started painting the bedroom and planning out what needs to get done before shooting. We briefly talked about staying the night in the house so we could get an early start the next day, but ultimately decided against it. When we were done, we called the cinematographer to come and lock up behind us and went home without another thought.

The next morning, after the cinematographer let us in, we continued the task of painting the room. We quickly realized something was off though. Brushes were in a different place than where we left them. Paint cans had been moved. Maybe we simply forgot where we had put them? It was a long day yesterday after all. My brother and I joked that the place was haunted and shrugged it off.

The rest of the day passed without incidence. And most of the next day did too. In the afternoon, we paused our work to head to Home Depot with the cinematographer to get some supplies needed for one of the shots. When we made it back to the house, we headed upstairs. And discovered someone had painted blue on the white door.

My brother and I shared a glance. Odd. We definitely didn’t do that. I don’t think the cinematographer quite believed us. We finished up the rest of the day in a tense and quiet unease. As we finished, we watched the cinematographer lock the house behind us and left.

The next day came and with it the deadline loomed ever closer. We were now only two days away from filming and so much still needed to get done. We met the cinematographer outside the house like we had every morning prior. She went to unlock the front door and paused. “I locked this door last night, right?” She asked.

We nodded. We had watched her lock it and test to make sure it was locked. “Well it’s unlocked now.” A deep sense of dread filled me. My brother felt it too. “I must have not locked it like I thought I had,” she brushed it off. But deep down we knew something was wrong.

I tried to shrug off the feeling that something wasn’t right. I had bigger issues to worry about. I was beginning to worry everything wouldn’t get done on time. And that’s when I realized- I forgot a crucial prop for a key scene. Panicked, I begged my brother to run out and get it while I stayed and finished up at the house. “I have no idea what you’re wanting though,” he argued. “Just come with.” Reluctantly, I agreed. A quick stop to Michael’s wouldn’t hurt. Looking back, it probably saved my life.

An hour later and we’re back outside the house. We go the head inside, but it’s locked. Impossible. We have no key to lock it. The only way to lock it would be from the inside.

That overwhelming sense of dread came back, stronger than before. This was no silly ghost haunting. Someone was inside that house.

After a few phone calls, the cinematographer, her dad, and the producer arrive to check it out. They unlock the door and do a quick sweep of the place. “There’s no one here,” they say. “It’s Oswego. Nothing bad happens here, everything is fine.”

My brother and I aren’t convinced. Did they check the basement? “I walked down and took a quick glance around. No one was down there,” they claim.

“But there are lots of nooks and crannies to hide in down there,” my brother argued.

“Like I said, nothing bad ever happens here. You probably bumped the lock on your way out.” With that, they drove away.

Later, after the project was over, the cinematographer admitted that the lock on the outside was broken and ended up needing to be replaced.

My brother and I were unsure what to do. On the one hand, we knew we didn’t “bump into the lock.” On the other, we had a job to do and the producer wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Armed with pocket knives and the promise to stick together, we decide to get in and get out as quick as possible. No one will be staying in that house alone.

By some miracle, we manage to finish the last day without any incident. We show up to the house for the last time on the first day of shooting. Even with a large number of people there, we carry our pocket knives. The day starts with a safety meeting. “No one is allowed in the basement. There’s mold down there.” Everyone agrees to stay away from the basement.

As the night wears on, I find my guard start to slip. There’s 20 people here, what could happen?

We break for lunch and all sit outside to catch a break from the stuffy house. As we start to go back in, I hear the producer and director whispering in the kitchen that a walkie talkie is missing.

The night goes on. I’m in the kitchen with the script supervisor, standing by the basement stairs. “Quiet on set!” The AD yells.

“Action!”

Everyone collectively holds their breath as the scene starts to take place. The room is silent. Then we hear it.

Footsteps.

Coming up the basement stairs.

They stop about halfway. The script supervisor, who has no knowledge of the previous events, looks at me freaked out. Who’s down there? She mouths. She glances down the stairs but they turn a corner so she can’t see the bottom. The footsteps retreat back down the stairs. Everyone is accounted for upstairs.

“Cut!”

I immediately run to tell my brother. He grabs his knife and like a character in a horror movie who dies first, decides to go investigate. He heads down the steps. As he approaches the last step, he sees a flash of movement across the room. Something had darted behind an exposed wall panel. He decides to head back up the steps. We agree to stay as far away from that basement as we can.

Miraculously, when we wrap for the night and start to head out, the missing walkie talkie is found on the kitchen counter. Right by the basement stairs.

I don’t know who was in that basement. Or why they were there. I shudder to think about what would have happened to me, a young woman, had I chosen to stay at the house while my brother ran to the store. Or if we had chosen to stay the night. I’m glad I’ll never know. And I’ll be glad to never go to Oswego, Illinois ever again.

[ethanblogger]

Stop Guessing, Start Knowing: How Toggle Timer Delivers Accurate Project Estimates

Are you tired of guessing how long your projects will take? You’re not alone! Many of us have been there—staring at a blank screen, wondering if we should estimate a week or a month for that project. Well, say goodbye to those days of uncertainty! With Toggle Timer, you can finally get accurate project estimates that will make your life a whole lot easier.

What is Toggle Timer?

Toggle Timer is a nifty tool that helps you track time spent on various tasks and projects. Imagine it as your personal assistant who never tires—always there to keep tabs on how long you’re working and what you’re working on. It’s like having a watchful eye that doesn’t judge you for those Netflix breaks!

Why Time Tracking Matters

Time tracking isn't just a fancy term thrown around in corporate settings. It’s a game changer! By keeping track of your time, you can:

Understand Your Productivity: Have you ever wondered where your time goes? Tracking it will reveal the truth. Spoiler alert: it’s not just those cat videos!

Improve Project Estimates: With accurate data, you can make better estimates for future projects. No more shooting in the dark!

Identify Time Wasters: You might be shocked to discover how much time you spend on distractions. It’s like finding out your favorite snack has more calories than you thought!

How Toggle Timer Works

Alright, let’s dive into the nitty-gritty of how Toggle Timer works. It’s as simple as pie! (And who doesn’t love pie?)

Start Tracking: When you begin a task, just hit the start button. It's like a race—except you’re racing against the clock, not against your friends!

Pause When Needed: Taking a break? No problem! Just hit pause. No need to feel guilty; even the best athletes need to catch their breath.

Review Your Time: After you finish, take a look at how much time you spent. You might be surprised—like finding a twenty-dollar bill in your old jeans!

Features That Make Toggle Timer Shine

Let’s talk about what makes Toggle Timer stand out from the crowd.

User-Friendly Interface

The design is so intuitive that even your grandma could use it! You won't need a Ph.D. to figure out how to start tracking your time. It’s all laid out clearly—no hidden buttons or complicated settings.

Integration with Other Tools

Toggle Timer plays well with others! It integrates seamlessly with project management tools like Trello, Asana, and more. It’s like having a great partner who knows how to fit in with your friends!

Reports That Make Sense

After tracking your time, you’ll get reports that break down your hours in a way that’s easy to understand. It’s like getting a report card—but without the stress of your parents looking over your shoulder!

Real-Life Examples of Toggle Timer in Action

Let’s take a look at some real-life scenarios where Toggle Timer has saved the day!

The Freelancer’s Dilemma

Meet Sarah, a freelance graphic designer. She was always underestimating how long her projects took. After using Toggle Timer for a month, she realized she was spending more time on revisions than she thought. Now, she provides accurate quotes and has happier clients!

The Team Project

Imagine a software development team that was always late on project deadlines. They decided to try Toggle Timer. By tracking their hours, they discovered that communication delays were eating up valuable time. Now, they hold daily check-ins—which have made all the difference!

Conclusion: Time to Take Control

In a world where time is money, why would you leave your project estimates up to chance? With Toggle Timer, you can stop guessing and start knowing. It's time to take control of your time and improve your productivity!

So, what are you waiting for? Dive into the world of time tracking and watch your project estimates become more accurate than ever before. You won’t regret it!

Written by Toggle Timer

‌

[davidwhinney1996]

The AI Apprentice: My Startup’s Robot Co-Founder

A tech-fueled journey from burnout to brilliance — with a little help from AI

Meet Airi, My 24/7 Intern

Picture this. It’s 2 a.m. Your inbox looks like a war zone — hundreds of unread emails staring back at you. You’ve got customer interviews you forgot to schedule, social media posts you meant to write days ago, and a pitch deck that’s still half-finished. You’re the founder of a growing startup, but you’re stuck. You’re not keeping up. You’re barely sleeping. And that voice in your head? It’s whispering you’re not good enough.

That’s where I was. Drowning in tasks, feeling like a fraud, and wondering how I’d ever get ahead. Then I found Airi. My robot intern.

Airi isn’t human. She’s an AI tool I discovered during a desperate late-night search for help. I didn’t trust her at first. A machine saving my startup? Sounded like a stretch. But I was out of options, so I gave her a chance.

This isn’t about AI running the show. It’s about me figuring out how to use it to claw my way out of burnout. And it’s about learning that AI can only take you so far — especially when it comes to trust and credibility. For that, I needed something more. Something human.

In this article, I’ll walk you through my journey. You’ll see how I went from overwhelmed to in control with AI’s help. You’ll hear about the wins, the flops, and the moment I realized PR was the missing piece. Because the real question isn’t whether you should use AI. It’s how you pair it with human know-how to build something people believe in.

Burned Out and Bottlenecked

Let’s rewind. Six months into my startup, I was a mess. I was juggling everything — CEO duties, marketing, product tweaks, customer support. My to-do list grew faster than I could check it off. Every day was a sprint, and I was losing.

I’d wake up to a phone buzzing with notifications. I’d crash at night wondering what I’d missed. My team was small but sharp. Problem was, they couldn’t move forward without me signing off on every little thing. I was the holdup. The weak link.

One week stood out. Monday, I had an investor call. Tuesday, a product demo crashed because I hadn’t tested it. Wednesday, I forgot to reply to a lead who’d gone cold. Thursday, our Twitter sat empty — no posts, no engagement. Friday, I stared at a blank newsletter draft, due two weeks ago. I was a walking disaster.

Doubt crept in. My competitors were landing deals, posting slick updates, growing. Me? I was typo-ing emails and missing deadlines. I’d read about founders in Khaleej Times newspaper scaling fast. I wasn’t even treading water.

Data backs this up. A study found 70% of founders say they’re the biggest roadblock to their own progress. You know the trap: you want control, you fear delegating, you think no one gets it like you do. Sound familiar?

The First Experiment: Giving AI a Voice

I’ll never forget the night I first turned to AI. It was past midnight, and I was slumped over my laptop, staring at a blank screen. I needed a social media post to announce our latest product update, but my brain was toast. A friend had mentioned an AI tool called Airi, and in a moment of desperation, I thought, “Why not?”

I signed up for a free trial and typed my first prompt: “Write a tweet announcing our new feature.” Seconds later, Airi delivered: “We’re excited to launch our latest feature — now you can track your goals in real-time! Try it today.” It wasn’t groundbreaking, but it was solid. I tweaked it to sound more like us — “Hey folks, our new real-time goal tracker is live! Check it out!” — and hit post. The likes and comments rolled in faster than usual, and I thought, “Huh, maybe there’s something to this.”

Emboldened, I gave Airi a bigger challenge: a blog post about our mission to simplify project management. My prompt was basic: “Draft a blog post outline about our startup’s mission.” Airi spat out a five-part structure — introduction, our story, core values, what sets us apart, and a call to action. It was a bit vanilla, so I refined it: “Write a 500-word post about how we’re making project management less chaotic for small teams, with a friendly tone.” The second draft was night-and-day better, though I still had to sprinkle in our voice and a few customer quotes.

Not every experiment was a win. Once, I asked Airi to draft a pitch email for an investor. She opened with “Dear Sir/Madam,” which cracked me up — our startup’s more “Yo, what’s up?” than boardroom formal. But the rest of the email was decent, so I kept it and swapped the greeting for “Hey [Name].” Another time, I requested lead-gen campaign ideas. Airi suggested a “taco Tuesday webinar,” which was random but oddly inspiring — I pivoted to a “coffee chat” event that fit our vibe.

The real breakthrough came when I learned to be specific. Vague prompts got me generic results, but detailed ones — like “Write a 300-word newsletter for small biz owners, casual tone, about our new feature” — unlocked Airi’s potential. She became my co-writer, churning out drafts I could polish with my perspective. Over weeks, I leaned on her for newsletters, ad copy, even press releases, freeing me up to focus on strategy and customers. AI didn’t replace me — it amplified me.

The Revelation: AI Can’t Build Trust… But I Know Who Can

Airi was rolling, but I hit a wall. I wrote a founder story — my struggles, our mission. Airi helped: she drafted it, I polished it. I sent it to 20 journalists — some at Forbes, Business Insider, even The Buffalo News. I waited. A week passed. Two. Nothing.

I got it then. Airi could write, but she couldn’t connect. She couldn’t get me in front of people who mattered. I needed credibility — something AI couldn’t fake.

I researched PR. Big agencies wanted $50,000 upfront, no guarantees. I found articles in Esquire Magazine about startups breaking through with media. How? I kept digging and landed on 9-Figure Media.

They stood out. They promised placements in Forbes, Bloomberg, Business Insider — guaranteed. I read about a founder they helped get into Bloomberg. Her startup raised $2 million after. Another got The Wall Street Journal and signed a major client. I emailed them that night.

Their pitch was simple: send us your story, we’ll get it seen. I trusted them. It paid off.

The AI-PR Power Combo

I fed Airi prompts: “Write my founder story, 500 words.” She delivered a draft — rough but usable. I added details — my 2 a.m. meltdowns, our first sale. I sent it to 9-Figure Media.

They reworked it. Cut fluff, punched up the stakes. Two weeks later, I got a link: my story in Forbes. I clicked. There it was — my name, my startup, my journey. I called my team. We celebrated.

The numbers told the story. Traffic tripled that week. Five investors reached out. A customer said, “Saw you in Forbes — had to try your app.” Airi gave me the words. 9-Figure Media gave me the stage.

I tested it again. Airi wrote a press release. 9-Figure Media landed it in Bloomberg. Same deal — spikes in interest, trust, sales. It was a system: AI for speed, PR for impact.

Scaling the Narrative: Authority as the New Growth Hack

Take TechCo, a startup I followed closely. They had a killer product — an app for remote team collaboration — but they were drowning in a sea of competitors. Their founder, Sarah, was grinding, but traction was slow. Then she took a leap and hired a PR agency. They polished TechCo’s story and pitched it to Forbes. When the feature dropped, highlighting their unique approach, everything shifted.

Website traffic surged 300% in a week. Leads poured in from businesses that saw the article. A VC firm even reached out, citing the Forbes piece, and later led a $2M round. Sarah told me, “That article was our golden ticket. It wasn’t just exposure — it was credibility we couldn’t buy.”

Then there’s Mark, who runs a SaaS tool for freelancers. His team scored a Business Insider feature after months of pitching. The result? Demo requests jumped 50%, and their sales pipeline thickened overnight. “It was like flipping a switch,” Mark said. “Clients started trusting us because someone else vouched for us first.”

This is the magic of authority as a growth hack. In a noisy digital world, a nod from a trusted publication cuts through the clutter. It’s not just about one-off wins, either. Smart startups milk that coverage — slapping “As seen in Forbes” on their homepage, weaving it into email campaigns, and sharing it on X for weeks. It’s instant social proof.

What the Pros Know About AI, Storytelling, and Media

I picked the brains of some pros at 9-Figure Media, and they dropped gold on using AI in PR and storytelling. Their big takeaway? AI’s a powerhouse, but it’s not the whole game. “It’s great for speed — drafts, ideas, research,” one strategist said, “but humans make it real.”

They’ve seen the flops, too. “AI-only pitches stick out like a sore thumb,” another pro warned. “Journalists know when it’s canned — no soul, no hook.” So, how do you get it right? Here’s their playbook:

Brainstorm with AI: Feed it a prompt like “Give me 10 story angles for our launch” and cherry-pick the gems.

Draft fast, edit slow: Let AI crank out a rough pitch or post, then rewrite it with your flair.

Tailor pitches: Use AI to dig up a journalist’s recent work, but write the email yourself — tie your story to their beat.

Ditch the generic: AI loves safe bets; fight back with quirky data or personal tales it can’t fake.

One cool trick: ask AI to scan industry news and spot gaps your story can fill. But the pros insist — authenticity is non-negotiable. “If it doesn’t sound like you, it’s trash,” they said. Blend AI’s efficiency with your gut, and you’ve got a winning combo.

The Future is Human… Enhanced

Picture this: a future where AI crunches data and churns out drafts while we — founders, creators — dream big and connect deep. I see myself skipping the grunt work, diving into customer calls, and plotting our next move, with AI as my trusty sidekick.

It’s already happening. AI can sift through X chatter to find what’s trending, then suggest stories that hit home. It might even predict what’ll go viral, letting us craft pitches with laser focus. But it’s not taking over — it’s enhancing us. We bring the heart, the quirks, the vision AI can’t touch.

There’s a flip side, sure. Ethics matter — AI can’t amplify bias or edge out jobs without pushback. The fix? Use it smartly, transparently, as a booster, not a crutch. I’d bet in five years, AI’s scanning media patterns in real-time, handing us insights no human could spot alone.

So, here’s your move: dip your toes in. Play with AI tools — write a post, brainstorm a campaign. Then team up with pros like 9-Figure Media to blast your story wide. The future’s human, juiced up by tech — let’s own it.

[stephleb]

Open Your Future: Top CNA Programs in Philadelphia to Jumpstart Your Healthcare Career

Unlock Your Future: Top CNA Programs in Philadelphia to Jumpstart Your Healthcare Career

Are ‌you ready to take the first step towards an exciting career in healthcare? Becoming a ​Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) is a‍ fantastic way to enter the healthcare⁤ industry without spending years in school. ‍In⁣ Philadelphia,⁣ numerous CNA programs can provide ⁤you with the‌ training and credentials needed to launch your career. This extensive guide will explore the​ best CNA programs in Philadelphia, ​the benefits of becoming ⁤a ⁢CNA, and practical tips for success in your journey.

why Choose a CNA career?

Before we delve into the programs, let’s explore the reasons you might want to consider a career as⁣ a CNA:

High Demand: The need‌ for CNAs is continuously growing, especially ⁤in urban areas like Philadelphia.

Job Stability: ‌Healthcare jobs are often resistant to economic fluctuations, ‍ensuring job security.

Short Training ⁢Duration: ‌CNA programs typically last only a few ⁢weeks to a few months compared⁣ to other healthcare career paths.

Meaningful Work: CNAs play a crucial ⁤role in providing care and comfort to patients,making ‍a significant ‍impact on their⁣ lives.

Top CNA Programs in Philadelphia

Here’s a look at some of the top ⁤CNA programs available in Philadelphia:

Program Name

Duration

Location

Contact ⁢data

Community College of Philadelphia

6-8⁣ weeks

Philadelphia, PA

(215) 751-8000

American Red Cross

4-8 weeks

Philadelphia, PA

(215) 299-4000

Camden County ‌College

2 months

Blackwood, NJ (near Philadelphia)

(856) 227-7200

La ⁣Salle University

5 weeks

Philadelphia, PA

(215) 951-1000

Innovative Training Solutions

4 weeks

Philadelphia, PA

(267) 297-6127

What ⁤to‍ Expect from CNA Training Programs

CNA training programs typically consist⁤ of both classroom instruction and hands-on clinical practice. Here are some of the key components you can expect:

Classroom Instruction: Lessons on patient care,anatomy,emergency procedures,and ethics ⁤in healthcare.

Hands-On⁢ Experience: practice skills such⁢ as bathing,⁣ grooming, and taking vital signs in a simulated setting.

Clinical Rotations: Working in real​ healthcare environments under supervision, allowing for practical application of skills.

benefits of Completing a CNA Program

Completing‍ a ‌CNA program opens many doors. Here are⁢ some‍ of⁤ the benefits:

Certification: Successfully passing the⁢ state certification exam allows you to work as a CNA.

Versatile‌ Career Options: Work in hospitals, nursing homes, or ⁣private homes, with opportunities⁢ for advancement into‌ health-related ⁢fields.

Networking Opportunities: Meet and ‌connect with professionals in the healthcare industry who can assist you in your career.

Continuing education: Earning your‍ CNA can serve as a stepping stone to pursuing further education in nursing or other healthcare roles.

Practical Tips for Aspiring CNAs

Embarking on your ⁤CNA journey can be both exciting and ‌daunting. Here‌ are‌ some practical tips⁤ to⁣ help you succeed:

Research Programs: Look for ⁢programs with strong reviews and student⁣ outcomes. Consider factors such as cost, ⁤duration, and job⁢ placement assistance.

Stay Organized: Keep track ‌of your study ‍materials,‌ clinical hours, and significant deadlines.

Practice ‌Skills: Regularly practice hands-on skills to build confidence before⁢ taking ​the ⁢state exam.

Connect with Peers: Form​ study groups‌ with fellow students to enhance learning⁤ and retention.

Real-Life Experiences⁢ from ⁢CNAs

Hearing firsthand from a working CNA can be incredibly insightful. Here’s what one Philadelphia CNA, Jane Doe, has‍ to say about her experience:

“Becoming a CNA was one of the⁢ best decisions ⁤I’ve ever made.⁣ Training ⁤was ⁣intensive but worth it.​ Working in‌ a nursing⁤ home,‍ I build meaningful⁣ relationships with my patients daily. ⁢It’s fulfilling⁤ to know I’m making a difference in⁢ their lives.”

Conclusion

Jumpstarting your healthcare career ⁤as ‍a⁤ Certified⁤ Nursing Assistant is both a rewarding and⁣ practical choice, ⁣particularly in a vibrant city‌ like Philadelphia. With many CNA​ programs designed to equip⁣ you with⁤ necessary skills and knowledge, you can find the right fit for your ⁤needs. As you⁢ pursue your CNA certification, remember that you’re not just gaining a job—you’re embarking on ‌a path that can lead to numerous opportunities in ⁢the ever-growing healthcare field. So⁢ take ⁢the leap, unlock your‍ future, and start your⁢ journey toward becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant today!

https://cnatrainingcentral.com/open-your-future-top-cna-programs-in-philadelphia-to-jumpstart-your-healthcare-career/