#text: nicholas quinn

[mcndyhcrtmcn]

Mandy: nicholas ian quinn get your uppity butt over here and collect your man before i kick your ass right this instant @nicholas-quinn

[oliverxsutton]

Oliver: I’ve a new list of books for you to look at. A few of them are on waitlist but I can put the ones that are available on hold for you.

@nicholas-quinn

[mcndyhcrtmcn]

Mandy: you’re welcome, by the way. What would you do without me in your life?

Mandy: happy pride Nicki

Mandy: now go enjoy it with your man ;)

NICHOLAS: how could it? when you're around to burst my bubble all the time NICHOLAS: happy pride Mandy

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter four:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: drinking and kinda suggestive? sex is mentioned!

➴ word count: 3k

💌 from me to you: i think one of you cast a spell on me because i cannot wait until friday to publish this. also, i listened to self righteous by bryson tiller while i wrote this. just saying!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

liked by nickharris_img, imgmodels, lhughes_06 and 390,813 others

madisoncarter mood because bella and i are the newest vancouver girlies

View all 1,283 comments

vic_alonso 🤩🤩🤩

ellecanada Welcome, love 💛

madisoncarter_updates Omggg we’re so excited for you babe!!!!!!!

user1 she’s never beating the “idk who the hughes brothers are” allegations

nickharris_img I miss you already Mads 💔

lavieenrose Welcome home, Flower! 🌷🌼🌹

user2 bella looks so cute

౨ৎ

“WHAT DO you think, baby?”

Bella stared at you before she started running around the place, sniffing every corner.

It was officially your first day living in Vancouver. You had been coming and going to Vancouver ever since you’d signed your contract with La Vie en Rose, arranging things and getting your shit together.

Nicholas was right, their team took care of everything, and they got you a nice place too. You still had to pay rent but at least you didn’t have to go apartment hunting, which was something you hated.

You and Bella landed in Vancouver last night, and you didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay on your bed with her and sleep the entire Saturday. It was Sunday now, and you were trying to get Bella used to the rooms before you had to leave for your first shooting on Monday.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” You asked her, putting your hands on your waist. “I think it’s nice.”

Your phone rang and you picked it up, reading Quinn’s text with a smile on your face.

You’ve been texting everyday since that day at his house, and you felt like the world was finally spinning right again. Having Quinn back in your life— and consequently Ellen, Jim, Luke and Jack as well— made you so happy it was almost unbelievable.

He texted at weird hours, sometimes at three a.m. and sometimes at six p.m., but he always asked about you and how you were doing. Have you eaten? How’s the moving going? Do you need any help?

You’d stare at those texts and ask yourself the same thing you’ve been asking since you were eleven: why he was so kind to you? Not that you were complaining. It just felt weird to have someone who cared as much as he did again.

You told him you were now permanently living in Vancouver and he told you he’d come see you whenever he got back from Seattle. You felt your heart beating faster just with the thought of him at your place, both of you alone for the first time after that awkward moment at his house, with you hangover as fuck.

Now you would be sober and in your space, not his.

You sighed, watching Bella preparing herself for a nap in her massive bed by the balcony and you decided that napping was the right solution for you too.

౨ৎ

YOUR FIRST day at La Vie en Rose had been a success, not that you expected anything else.

Turns out your editor-in-chief, Victoria, was one of the nicest people you had ever met; she talked you through the process of working for La Vie en Rose and answered all of your questions with patience and kindness.

“You were our target for a long time before we managed to snatch you,” she joked when you mentioned that working with them was a dream come true. “So we’re the ones who should be thankful.”

She took you to her favorite restaurant and bought your lunch while she talked your ears off, in the best way possible. You never had a girl friend before. Between casting and auditions, you never got to make many friends. And in the world of modeling, there weren’t friends— you had to see the other girls as your opponents, people you had to defeat. Your body had to be better, your hair had to be shinier, your catwalk had to be smoother.

So when Victoria treated you as a friend, even if you’d met each other a few hours ago, it was like the universe was being kind to you again.

You were on your way home, enjoying the view as you walked down the streets, grateful that you still didn’t have a car because the city was really beautiful, even with the cold weather.

You arrived at your apartment, going all the way up to the ninth floor. When you opened your door, Bella almost knocked you down, jumping on you and licking your face.

“You’re going to hurt mommy, baby,” You laughed, caressing her fur. “I missed you too.”

She barked and you got up, finally closing the door and removing your heels. You left your bag on the couch and ran to your bathroom, desperate for a hot shower and pajamas. The best part of your house was the central heater system, and the fact that you got to wear your tiny pajama sets even when it was snowing outside.

You did your nightly skincare and spread the vanilla scented lotion on your entire body, before applying your favorite perfume— no need to specify the scent. You were a vanilla girl through and through and you would never leave the house unless you smelled like a bakery.

It was only eight p.m. but you were so tired that all you wanted to do was crash in your bed and sleep, but you still had to give Bella her dinner. So you walked to your laundry room, where you kept all of her things— you were that king of dog mom who buys your dog three hundred winter clothes and five hundred chewing toys— and grabbed her food pot, shaking it lightly to grab her attention.

Which worked momentarily because next thing you knew the doorbell was ringing and Bella was running to the door, barking loudly.

“Bella!” You reprimanded her, putting your index finger in front of your mouth and shushing her. “Quiet, please.”

You opened the door even without knowing who was on the other side, which was probably a bad and dangerous thing to do, but it was just Quinn, wearing a suit and holding a suitcase.

“Quinn?” You watched as Bella jumped on him, excited to see someone else. “Bella, down, please. Leave him alone.”

“Oh, hello there,” he bent over and patted Bella’s head, caressing her fur while she licked his hands. “Who are you, hm?”

“That’s Bella,” you said, opening the door so he could get inside. You watched as he got up and stared down at you, eyeing you up and down. You followed his gaze and realized that you were still only wearing your pink, almost see through pajama set and with the cold breeze that hit you when you opened the door, your nipples decided that now was a good time to mark through your shirt. “Um.”

Something flashed through Quinn’s eyes, but you didn’t know what. He coughed, closing the door for you. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“O-oh, right. Bella,” you looked at her, watching as she sniffed Quinn’s things. “I adopted her when I moved to LA. We were both alone and she was living at a shelter.” You smiled, remembering the day you took her home. “She was so small and so scared. She was sitting alone at a corner and I just… I couldn’t leave her there.”

Quinn chuckled, nodding. “You’re still the sweetest person I have ever met.”

“Oh, stop it,” you croaked, smiling.

“Just saying,” he shrugged, putting his hands on his pocket and resting his body against the door. “I just came to check on you. Nice place you got here.”

You looked around, agreeing with him.

“It is, I was just telling Bella this,” you started. “It’s not big but it’s perfect for us. I like it a lot. Especially the heater.”

“That’s nice too,” he agrees. “What are you having for dinner?”

You stared at him, confused. Only that you couldn’t tell him that dinner wasn’t something that happened everyday in your world.

“Hum,” you stutter. “Nothing? I was just ready to go to bed, actually.”

“That’s too bad,” he removed his shoes and started walking around your place like he’d been there a million times before. “I’m starving. We just got here from Seattle. What do you want me to cook?”

“You don’t need to cook anything,” he cocks his head at you, eyes staring deep into your soul. “I’m not hungry. But I can cook something for you if you want to.”

“I don’t like eating alone. And you can’t just go to bed without eating anything.”

“Quinn…” you sigh, placing your hands on your hips. “Don’t do this. Please?”

“I’m not doing anything, I’m just saying. So,” he claps his hands. “What are we having?”

“Jesus, I forgot how annoying you are,” you roll your eyes, holding back a smile. “We can maybe have a salad.”

“If you want to kill me, there are faster ways to do it,” he whines and you laugh. “Can I take care of dinner and you take care of Bella while I cook?”

“I wanna help.” You pout and he smiles.

“You can help by sitting there,” he points at your dinner table. “And looking pretty. You’re good at that anyway.”

You laughed out loud, wrapping your arms around your chest. “You’re old and annoying, Quinn Hughes.”

He opened your cabinets, searching for something with his eyes.

“What do you think about rice and salmon?” He asks, picking up the rice package.

“Maybe potatoes instead of rice?” You suggest, pointing at the potato sack sitting in your kitchen trolley.

“Alright,” he pulls up the sleeves of his suit, and goes to the sink to wash his hands. “Let’s get to work.”

To your surprise, Quinn moved around your kitchen with ease, even when he had never visited you before. He finely chopped the potatoes, putting them in the oven to let them roast before he moved to the salmon, seasoning it with the spices you had in your cabinet.

He listened to you the entire time, with you yapping about your day and how nice Victoria had treated you and how Nicholas had called you mid-shooting to ask how you were doing.

“What exactly do you do?” He asked, while you grabbed a wine bottle from your fridge.

“Well, it depends,” you replied, grabbing wine glasses from your cabinet and opening the bottle. “Sometimes I just take pictures all day, in different locations and outfits. Sometimes I have to go to runways. Sometimes both. Not to mention the social media work, the TikToks and all of that.”

“I don’t even wanna hear about TikToks,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh. “The Canucks media team are always asking us to do stupid trends and answer weird questions. What does ‘very demure’ even mean anyway?”

“You’re too old for that, Quinny,” you joke, filling your glasses up. “Do you know what I think?”

“Hm?”

“I think you should come see me at a runway show,” you suggest, knowing damn well Quinn would never sit on a chair for an hour and a half just to watch women wear weird, provocative clothes and catwalk on a platform. “It’d be interesting.”

“Only if I get to bring my team with me so it’ll be less boring.” He fires back, checking on the salmon in the pan.

“I’m sure they won’t mind watching women in underwear or something similar.” You smile, watching as he nods with his head and sips on his wine too.

“I’m sure of that too.”

He resumes cooking while you finish your first glass of wine, already in for your second. You set the table, turning the TV on for Bella— she likes watching TV sometimes, and that’s fine!— before sitting down to eat Quinn’s tasty-looking meal. After you got your first bite of the salmon, you couldn’t help but moan.

“I didn’t know you knew how to actually cook, Quinn Hughes,” you say, chewing on the fish. “When did you even learn that?”

“I’m a grown man now, Maddie,” he laughed and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Like that means anything. I know Ellen would cook for you everyday if you asked her to.”

“Yeah, but I’m not around her so much anymore, so I just figured out it’d be good for me to know how to take care of myself. And turns out I really like cooking.”

“This is heavenly, thank you so much,” you sip on your wine as the same time he sips on his, smiling because you liked his company a lot.

౨ৎ

“AND THEN, Jack asked them to flash him and the worst part is that someone caught that on camera.”

You laughed, letting your body fall forward, feeling lighter than ever. You and Quinn were sitting on your couch, already in your second bottle of wine. Bella was chewing on one of her toys and it was already ten thirty.

Quinn was now wearing just his white, dress shirt with the first two buttons open, his jacket lost somewhere alongside his tie. You couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of the shirt held his muscles in all the right places, getting tighter every time he flexed his muscles.

Quinn was hot, and he had always been in your eyes. He was only twenty-four, almost twenty-five, but he looked older, mature. Something about him being a hockey player, the captain, made you feel confused and hot at the same time.

“Jack girlies must have gone crazy with that video,” you add after you stop laughing, watching as Quinn nods.

“Tell me about it,” he runs his fingers through his silky, somehow hydrated hair, and you find yourself wondering how it’d feel for you to do the same. “It was crazy. But I don’t really get the appeal.”

You scoffed. “You don’t get the appeal? Have you seen you or your brothers?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “So what? We’re alright, I guess,”

“You’re crazy,” you roll your eyes at him, incredulous. “I spent my teenage years ignoring guys because you ruined all of them for me and you’re saying you’re just alright?”

He chuckles, turning his head around and staring at you, blue eyes darkening.

“What do you mean by that, Madison?”

Maybe it was the fact that it was already late at night and you were tired, or maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the fact that the last time you had had sex with someone had been more than six months ago, but something about the way Quinn asked you that question, calling you by your name out of all things, made you wonder.

You were both grown up now. You weren’t fifteen anymore, innocent and afraid of voicing your needs. And Quinn looks like he knows how to make a woman see stars…

Besides what they say about big noses, you caught yourself thinking, before you could even stop yourself.

Crossing your legs and unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, you answered, softly:

“It’s silly,” you bit your lip, unsure of what you would even say. This is definitely the wine’s fault. “I had a crush on you growing up.”

You expected him to laugh and play it off, like he used to do whenever Jack or Luke mentioned that one of their girl friends had a crush on their older brother, Quinn. You expected him to give you that brotherly look he used to give you when you were younger and asked him questions about his life and family.

But the look he gave you had something different, something rawer. Something that made your skin crawl in the best way possible, that lightened something inside you.

“Did you now?”

“Mhm,” you nod with your head. “That’s why I’ve never had any boyfriends or hook-ups, even after you left. You ruined them all for me.” You wanted it to sound like a joke, but it hadn’t. How could it, when you were telling the truth.

“Should I apologize, Maddie?” He manspreads on your couch, and you let your gaze fall on his thighs for a brief second— just not brief enough for him not to notice.

“No, it’s— it’s fine. I’m not fifteen anymore.”

“I can see that,” he whispers, and you can feel yourself slipping into his little trap, slowly.

You were so fucked. Ultimately, stupidly fucked, and not even in the way you wanted to. After all these years of swearing to yourself that Quinn wasn’t meant for you, and that you wouldn’t see him again with lovey eyes anymore, you couldn’t believe the reactions your body was having to just his words and stares. This isn’t normal.

You needed to do something because— you will not fuck this up again. Quinn’s friendship’s too precious for you to ruin it with horny thoughts.

So what if Quinn looked like he could fuck you six ways to Sunday? He was your friend. It hadn’t even been a month since he got back in your life.

“Yeah, but I’m over it now,” you brushed it off, making a pft sound with your mouth. “Grew up and all of that.”

He takes a while to answer, but when he does, you can feel he wants to say something else.

“Got it.”

After that, the tension between the two of you is almost ten times bigger, and you have to stop your brain from blaming yourself. Whatever happened between you and Quinn seconds ago could never happen again. He was your friend.

“Think I’m gonna go now,” he says, getting up. Bella runs to his body, licking his hands and asking for pets. “Hey, baby girl. I’m going home now.”

“You don’t have to,” you suggest, the thought of him leaving because of you making you sick to your stomach. “I have a spare bedroom. You drank, it’s not safe.”

“You’re right, but I’m not drunk and I’ll drive slowly, I promise,” he smiles, leaning down to give you a peck on your forehead. “Great to see you.”

“Drive safe, please,” You watched him leave with Bella by your side, heart squeezed tightly inside your chest. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do it.” He answers, before putting on his jacket again, grabbing his suitcase and closing the door of your apartment.

And just like that, you had to spend the night trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing by pushing whatever that was away.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

First Encounter

Life had a funny way of happening sometimes. One moment you're crying in your best friend's arms, the next his lips are on yours and you're kissing him back like your life depends on it. And then everything comes to a standstill, and a week later neither of you can even look at each other. Over a stupid kiss. And your roommates and friends can feel the tension. See it. So much so that they all have mentioned it.

Quinn sighed, reaching across her bed for her phone. A week of sleeping, or rather not, in her own bed. Just a solid week of staring at the ceiling every night for hours on end. One week of Noah hiding in his room, not answering the door for her. Seven days of his bedroom door staying locked. Of hearing it creak open as she lay in her bed, wide awake, listening as he crept downstairs. An entire week of him avoiding her at all costs. Unanswered texts. Calls going straight to voicemail. No answering her knock on his door. Nobody joining her in the bathroom while she showered. He was just gone. And how was that fair? He had kissed her!

Her text from four hours ago had been read. No response. Just read. All that talk about how she deserved better and one stupid fucking kiss had him completely ghosting her? While she actively lived with him?! The fucking bastard.

Everything in her went cold. Leaving her phone on her bed she carefully climbed out of bed, avoiding the spots on her floor that creaked. He wanted to be a dick? Well, he could deal with the consequences instead of hiding.

With bated breath she tiptoed out of her room and across the hall. Slowly, carefully, she pressed her ear against his bedroom door, listening for signs of life. The faint sound of a movie starting reached her ears and she smiled. Caught him. With no hesitation she knocked, calling his name softly. No answer.

Frustrated she knocked and called his name louder. Still no answer. She knew it would be locked but she had to try anyway. The knob didn't turn. She wished she could blame rage for what she was about to do, but it was just hurt. He was the one person who never left. Never abandoned her. Always reminded her that life was worth living. And now he was acting like she didn't exist? After something he had initiated? That hurt more than anything.

"Noah!" She yelled, banging on his door. "I can fucking hear you! Answer me or I'm kicking the goddamn door down! You don't get to do this, too!"

Nicholas's door creaked open at the end of the hall, followed quickly by Noah yanking his bedroom door open and hauling her inside before he slammed it closed and locked it again. One look at him and she felt somewhat guilty. He looked like he'd barely slept, if at all.

"What the fuck, Quinn?!"

"You're seriously acting like I'm wrong here?! YOU kissed ME. And yes, I kissed you back! What the fuck of it?! It was a kiss, Noah!"

His large hand covered her mouth as he drug her over to his bed. Why in the fuck was he acting so paranoid? Quinn pushed him away, making a show of keeping her mouth shut as she sat on the edge of his bed. He wanted to play? She could play.

"Quinn. People are fucking sleeping. What the fuck?"

Noah dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading with her. For what she didn't know. But she watched as he repeatedly started to reach for her, then draw back. Noah had never been scared of touching her before. This was weird. Even for him.

"Seriously, Noah? You kiss me and then act like I don't exist? After telling me I deserve better? And then you go and act just like them? The fucking audacity!" She was yelling again. She didn't care.

Quinn watched as he drug his on hand down his face, rubbing his mouth. He was frustrated. Good. He deserved to be frustrated after this shit. Who did this over a stupid kiss? It wasn't like it had gone any further and crossed major friendship lines. Was she that fucked up that even a kiss was too much?

"Noah," she begged, her resolve breaking. "You're my best friend. It was just a fucking kiss. Please." Her voice shook, breath coming in short spurts. "I'm sorry I kissed you back? I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you this mad at me. I'm fucking sorry, Noah."

She completely dissolved. Clearly she had done something wrong. But what the fuck had she done?

"Quinn..."

"What did I do, Noah?!"

"Exist."

And then his lips crashed into hers, desperate. Pleading. She couldn't help but respond in kind, her fingers threading through his hair. Pulling him closer and closer still. They were all desperation and teeth and tongues, fighting for dominance. Just two people finally acting on the feelings they had always known were there. Desperate to be as close as possible, yet desperate to just consume each other.

Noah fisted his hand in her hair, the other gently caressing her cheek, his thumb resting just on the corner of her lips as he tugged, tipping her head back, gaining more access as her lips parted on a soft gasp. His tongue delved into her mouth, hungry, but gentle. Tasting every part of her. Memorizing every movement that made her moan. His free hand traveled slowly south, fingertips tracing over her throat, over her collarbone, hesitating at the swell of her breast.

Quinn tore her mouth from his, frustrated. Here he was, finally touching her, and he was stopping?

"Noah. I swear to fucking God," she pleaded.

"What do you want, baby?"

His eyes locked on hers and she saw everything there. Everything he had been fighting the last week. All the things he had been avoiding. This moment here. He wanted her. And he wanted her desperately. Just as much as she wanted him.

"Touch me," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

He broke then, his mouth attacking her throat, biting and licking and sucking. And she was helpless against him. They tumbled back on the bed together, pressure already building deep within her. His free hand quickly slid down, much further down than she anticipated or needed, resting on her bare inner thigh. His fingertips danced across her skin, tracing lazy patterns.

"Noah," she begged, pressing her body against his, feeling herself grow impossibly wetter by the second.

He didn't make her beg anymore. Deft fingers shoved her panties aside, a single digit rubbing lazy circles on her clit. The pressure deep inside her quickly turned into a tight band, ready to snap. She was so close already that she nearly panicked. It had never been this intense before, and he wasn't even inside her yet.

"Fuck," he groaned, slipping a single finger inside her. "You're so fucking wet. Jesus Christ, Quinn."

Everything was on fire. Her skin. Her lungs. One of those long fingers she'd admired for years was deep inside her, stroking her in just the right spot as it pumped in and out of her. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better he slipped another finger inside her, and she swore she blacked out for a second as he curled his fingers inside of her, applying more pressure to that spot deep inside her, his palm rubbing against her clit as he worked her with his fingers.

"You're close, aren't you?"

All she could do was moan desperately in response, her hips writhing against his hand. That band was growing tighter and tighter, and she was desperate for release from the pressure low in her belly. His forehead dropped to hers, holding her gaze, his pupils blown so wide with lust his eyes almost appeared black.

"Noah!" she called out his name as that band snapped, her hips stuttering as she clamped down around his fingers, her orgasm tearing through her.

"That's it, baby. There you go. That's my girl," he praised as her orgasm peaked, talking her through it, his fingers still pumping in and out of her, massaging her through it.

Dazed she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her, bringing them up to his lips. She watched, her heart leaping out of her chest as he sucked every drop of her off his fingers, eyes never leaving hers.

"Goddamn it, Quinn. You taste even better than I imagined."

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[underthelecves]

heeey tags! i’d love to have some chill, long-term discord rp partners. i’m all for text and para threads, swapping headcanons, and making pinterest boards for our ships!!

i’m taboo and dead dove friendly ofc. honestly the smuttier, the better <3 

i mostly write male characters, but i also write ladies on occasion too. below the cut you’ll find a list of some of my favorite fcs to write :'))

plot wise, I'm down for anything. if you've got a plot you've been wanting to do, chances are I'm down for it!!

anyway, give this a like and i’ll reach out <3  

alexander skarsgard, eric dane, jon bernthal, nicholas gallitzine, joe keery, idris elba, jake gyllenhaal, henry cavill, jensen ackles, jesse williams, walton goggins, manny montana, charlie hunnam, bill skarsgard, jacob elordi, aaron taylor johnson, barry keoghan, keith powers, taylor zakhar perez, paul mescal, jeremy allen white, tyler james williams, timothee chalamet, manu rios, harry styles, robert pattinson, harris dickinson, aaron moten, callum turner, nicholas hoult, archie madekwe, mike faist, josh o’connor, tamino, joseph quinn, dacre montgomery, pedro pascal, timothy olyphant, austin butler, mason gooding, darren barnet

[claraquinn]

TEXT TO: @nicholas-quinn

CECE: I met your boy toy CECE: Can’t say I disapprove, Nicky. What are you playing, cat and mouse? CECE: obviously you’re the cat.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Christopher F. Rufo and Luke Rosiak

Published: Apr 22, 2024

Recent headlines about UCLA School of Medicine suggest that the institution has lost its focus. Instead of brushing up on organic chemistry, its students were subjected to lessons on “Indigenous womxn” and “two-spirits.” Future doctors had to take a class on “structural racism” and were led in a “Free Palestine” chant by a Hamas-praising guest speaker. The school made plans to segregate students by race for courses on left-wing ideology, and two of its psychiatry residents championed “revolutionary suicide.” 

Why has the school charted this course? One reason is its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion ideology. UCLA has a DEI program called “Cultural North Star,” and at the medical school, it is led by Natalie J. Perry, whose official title is Cultural North Star Lead. Her UCLA biography says that her job is to “embed our aspirational Cultural North Stars [sic] value [sic] in our organizational DNA.” UCLA honored Perry last month for teaching students to “do what’s right,” saying her “empathy and radical listening” are to thank for her “success as an educator and a leader.”

According to a Daily Wire and City Journal investigation, however, Perry’s academic career is based on fraud. Perry published her Ph.D. dissertation in 2014 at the University of Virginia about college diversity programs. An analysis of the paper found it ridden with the worst sort of plagiarism, reproducing large swaths of text directly from several other authors, without proper citations. The scale of the plagiarism suggests that Perry lacks both ethics and competence and raises questions about academic programs that push DEI.

Perry’s dissertation lifted passages from ten other papers. In key portions of her text, she copied almost every paragraph from other sources without attribution. She fails even to mention at least four of the ten plagiarized papers anywhere in her dissertation.

Let’s review some examples.

The first three pages of Perry’s paper, “Faculty Perceptions of Diversity at a Highly Selective Research-Intensive University,” suggest that she did not even bother to read beyond the first page of papers from which she stole. Her dissertation’s second sentence reproduces verbatim part of a sentence on the first page of a paper by Adrianna Kezar, Peter Eckel, Melissa Contreras-McGavin, and Stephen John Quaye. Her third paragraph, without citation, lifts more than 100 words from the first page of a paper by Angela Locks, Sylvia Hurtado, Nicholas Bowman, and Leticia Oseguera.

Each colored portion of the below text was taken from a different author:

In some cases when Perry did include parenthetical citations, she wasn’t citing the papers whose text she had lifted. Instead, she simply reproduced the citations included in those stolen excerpts.

Take the above paragraph, which ends with “(Bernard, 2005; Bollag, 2005; Munoz, Jasis, Young, and McLaren, 2004; Williams, Nakashima, Kich, and Reginald, 1996).” Perry was not synthesizing those authors. Instead, the citation was part of Adalberto Aguirre and Ruben Martinez’s paper, from which she apparently copied and pasted, without attribution.

A core part of Perry’s dissertation involved summarizing work done by professors Robert Quinn and John Rohrbaugh. Instead of citing them directly, however, Perry cribbed summaries from other academics. Perry copied and pasted almost all of a nearly thousand-word passage from a paper by Chad Hartnell, Amy Yi Ou, and Angelo Kinicki, without quoting the authors.

Consider, for example, the following excerpt from Perry’s dissertation. The italicized portions were taken verbatim from Hartnell, Yi Ou, and Kinicki’s paper:

The CVF is widely used in organizational literature (Ostroff et al., 2003). Measures of organizational culture that directly or indirectly assess the CVF have been administered in over 10,000 organizations globally (Cameron et al., 2006) within the following academic disciplines: management, marketing, supply-chain management, accounting, social services, hospitality, and health care. Further, the reliability and content validity of Cameron and Ettington's (1988) measure of the CVF has been empirically supported in studies utilizing multitrait-multimethod analysis (Quinn & Spreitzer, 1991), multidimensional scaling (Howard, 1998), and structural equation modeling (Kalliath, Bluedorn, & Gillespie, 1999). Surprisingly, prior to 2011, there had been limited assessment of the theoretical foundation of the CVF despite its reported content validity and widespread use in research and practice.

The rest of Perry’s analysis of Quinn and Rohrbaugh’s work is largely copied, unquoted and unattributed, from a 2003 paper by John Smart. Below are pages 13 and 14 of Perry’s paper, outlining its “Theoretical Framework,” with the italicized text coming directly from Smart:

To develop this theory Quinn and Rohrbaugh (1983) asked a panel of distinguished organizational theorists to evaluate the similarity between every possible pair of 39 indexes of organizational effectiveness derived from Campbell’s (1977) exhaustive synthesis of criteria used to assess the performance of organizations. The results of this analysis revealed three basic dimensions underlying the judgments of respondents. The first dimension is organizational focus, which distinguishes organizations that have an internal emphasis on the development of people from those that have an external focus on the development of the organization. The second dimension is organizational structure, which distinguishes between organizations that have an emphasis on stability and control from those that have an emphasis on flexibility and innovation. The third dimension is organizational means and ends, which distinguish between organizations that emphasize processes such as planning and establishing goals from those that emphasize resulting outcomes such as productivity and efficiency.

In a section titled “Positioning Diversity Leadership in Higher Education,” Perry copies almost every sentence from one of several other papers. In no case does she credit the actual source:

Finally, in a section on organizational culture, Perry duplicates language from a variety of other authors:

Perry presented her paper as “qualitative” research because she chatted with what appear to be ten members of her colleagues at the University of Virginia who sat on the faculty-retention taskforce and counted their musings as “data.” But when the paper gets to this section, where plagiarism wasn’t possible, Perry includes the following jumbled passage that includes a glaring spelling error:

The positionality of the participants informed the perspective on the origins of the commission. /in response to the needs of the varios [sic] stakeholders within the university, the commission addressed issues of diversity on the faculty, undergraduate, graduate, and university level.

The section of original text suggests that her plagiarism could be used to mask glaring academic deficiencies. Moreover, Perry in her references section fails to list some of the papers that she cites parenthetically in the body of the dissertation—a telltale sign that she had simply copied those citations from somewhere else. Legitimate academic inquiry would not excuse such shoddy work.

Perry and UCLA did not return requests for comment.

Entrepreneur Mark Cuban recently argued that DEI policies don’t necessarily lower an organization’s expectations. But for Harvard, UVA, and UCLA Medical School—where Perry earned her master’s, Ph.D., and DEI position, respectively—this is evidently not the case. These institutions have dramatically lowered expectations for favored groups and pushed a cohort of “scholars” through the system without enforcing basic standards of academic integrity.

Ultimately, Natalie Perry is to blame for her misconduct. But these institutions of higher learning share some fault for permitting such shoddiness to stand unchallenged.

==

These are the same people who want to lecture us how much more morally enlightened they are than we are.

[margotexposed]

Margot was pleasantly surprised and her and Nicholas’ conversations. It’s rare with her when she comes across a guy who states he is fond of Harley Quinn and Barbie not for the aesthetic but for what they represent. She found that incredibly endearing. It also didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad to look at. This was the first date she’s gone on where she felt like she was being seen for her intellect rather than just her looks. Since separating from Sebastian about 2 years ago, she has been incredibly picky about who she goes on actual dates on. She’s had a few friends with benefits, but it’s rare for her to be interested enough in someone to go on an actual date on. She found him incredibly fascinating and she was excited to get to know him more. As much as she wanted to help him get a leg up on the competition with his sister, she found his response on only wanting to share the conversation with each other heartwarming.

After they set a date, Margot texted Nicholas her address to pick her up. After she got out of the shower, she blow dried her hair and curled her hair in loose beachy waves. She put on some mascara, clear lipgloss and a thin layer of foundation. Margot was very naturally pretty that she didn’t need a lot of makeup to enhance her features. She took a look at the time and saw it was about 10 minutes before he arrived. She had a few outfits in mind but she wasn’t sure which route to go. She would go a more causal route, more street wear, or a classic look. She started to get nervous as the clock was ticking down and she decided on a pair of light washed mom jeans, a white body suit, a pink blazer on top with some white converse. She heard the knock on her door and grabbed her purse. She took a last look in the mirror, fixing her hair and letting out a breath to calm her nerves. She opened the door to walk out and greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I think it’s earned you some brownie points that you showed up slightly late but not late enough that you worried me about forgetting our date. Just enough time for me to finish getting ready,” she said as she locked the door. As they walked to the car together, she smiled at the presence of Nicholas. “You look good,” she complimented. @galitzineexposed

[librofelice]

"Uomini Beta e dove trovarli"... 4 Historical Romance con protagonisti riflessivi, amanti della pace, e curiosi della vita. (...nerd fighi insomma!)

"Battersi con una donna Colta" - (Serie "Donovan" vol.4) - di Martha Keyes . Il protagonista è Phineas Donovan, il più giovane dei fratelli Donovan. Avido lettore, il cui sogno è insegnare, ma la sua carriera inizierà come vicario in prova e precettore di un giovane svogliato. Ha un modo tutto suo di risolvere i conflitti che la famiglia presso cui lavora non esiterà a porre sul suo cammino.

Phineas Donovan possiede un intelletto acuto. Fresco di studi a Cambridge, ottiene un generoso incarico come precettore residente per il figlio del ricco lord Bettencourt. Se riuscirà a dimostrare quanto vale spera di ottenere il patrocinio del suo datore di lavoro e assumere così il ruolo di vicario. A quel punto potrebbe dedicarsi alle proprie attività intellettuali godendo di quiete e di un relativo agio finanziario. Secondo il modesto ma informato parere di lady Sarah Danneville, lei possiede un intelletto ancora più sagace. Se esiste qualcuno che dovrebbe istruire il suo fratello minore, quel qualcuno è lei, non il gentiluomo riservato e con gli occhiali assunto da suo padre per quell’incarico. Lui non è adatto a fare da precettore a un Danneville di Bettencourt Court. Ma mentre Sarah tenta di compromettere gli sforzi del signor Donovan, lui dimostra più coraggio del previsto, per non dire del suo nascondere un passatempo segreto che sarebbe ridicolo, se non fosse così terribilmente inelegante. Se Sarah riuscisse a utilizzare quel segreto contro di lui potrebbe finalmente dimostrare al padre che è qualcosa di più di un’esca per attirare un buon partito. Ormai deve riuscire solo a non farsi risucchiare dalla scarsa eleganza - e dagli occhi - del signor Donovan.

https://www.amazon.it/Battersi-donna-colta-Regency-Romance-ebook/dp/B0DPTMGCK8?ref_=ast_author_mpb

"Il vicario vagabondo"- (Serie "I cuori di Amberley" vol.1)- di Charlotte Brentwood. Il protagonista è William Brook, un giovane uomo con il grande desiderio di partire per terre lontane e fondare un sua missione. Viene invece mandato ad Amberley come nuovo vicario, ed il piccolo villaggio gli sta assai stretto; ma la sua grande capacità di entrare in empatia con il prossimo lo porterà a rivedere il mondo da una nuova prospettiva e capirà che in ogni angolo del mondo si può fare la differenza dando solidarietà e conforto.

L'amore è la più grande delle avventure. Il vicario William Brook sta prendendo tempo nel piccolo villaggio di Amberley, aspettando disperatamente di essere inviato in missione oltremare. Non aveva previsto di essere affascinato da Cecilia Grant, un'artista dallo spirito libero che lo sfida in ogni momento. Cecilia è destinata a sposare un aristocratico locale... o almeno questo è ciò che pensa sua madre, ma il nuovo vicario bello e tenebroso sembra comprenderla in un modo in cui nessuno l'ha mai fatto, e si ritrova attratta da lui pur mentre viene tenuta a distanza. Col fiorire del loro rapporto, segreti oscuri vengono svelati a Amberley e uno scandalo del passato di William potrebbe essere la fine della sua carriera quanto del loro amore.

https://www.amazon.it/vicario-vagabondo-Regency-Romance-Amberley-ebook/dp/B0D4NKHC9C/ref=sr_1_1?crid=22UXB6IZW2UST&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.Ikg4ZiGIUVRvkjGim1YmMGCA1-w7JKyz_-ZU-OZVDbfGjHj071QN20LucGBJIEps.BcdmwKfmbUR5eaR5BEMDIepyce5bmwaWmiYcrh-75Fc&dib_tag=se&keywords=il+vicario+vagabondo&qid=1740847988&s=digital-text&sprefix=il+vicario+vagabondo%2Cdigital-text%2C114&sr=1-1

"Due cuori e uno scandalo" - (Serie "Rokesby" vol.4) - di Julia Quinn - Il protagonista è Nicholas Rokesby, quarto dei fratelli Rokesby. Brillante studente di medicina presso la facoltà di Edimburgo, generoso e disponibile. Capace di conciliare il senso del dovere, le proprie passioni e le necessità di coloro che lo circondano e che su di lui fanno grande affidamento.

Georgiana Bridgerton non è contraria all'idea del matrimonio in sé, soltanto che pensava di poter avere voce in capitolo. Ma quando la sua reputazione viene compromessa da un mascalzone cacciatore di dote, ha solo due possibilità: rimanere zitella a vita o maritarsi con il suddetto mascalzone. Quarto figlio di un conte, Nicholas Rokesby vive a Edimburgo, dove sta per completare gli studi di medicina, e non ha tempo, né tantomeno voglia, di cercare moglie. Quando però viene a sapere che Georgie Bridgerton, la vicina di casa di tutta una vita, è prossima alla rovina, capisce cosa deve fare: in nome dell'amicizia che lega da tempi immemorabili le rispettive famiglie, Nicholas chiede a Georgiana di sposarlo. Certo non la più romantica delle proposte, ma non si sarebbe mai aspettato il rifiuto della giovane, che non vuole costringerlo a un tale sacrificio, né immagina che riuscirebbero mai a vedere l'uno nell'altra qualcosa di diverso da un amico d'infanzia... o forse sì?

https://www.amazon.it/gp/product/B0DH78DHKW?ref_=dbs_m_mng_rwt_calw_tkin_3&storeType=ebooks

"May Mistakes : The silver Foxes of Westminster#3" - di Merry Farmer - Il protagonista è il libraio Basil Wall , fuggito da Londra, dal suo titolo e dal suo posto in Parlamento; ha ricostruito una nuova vita e una nuova identità nella cittadina di Brynthwaite. Londra e le sue richieste torneranno a bussare alla sua porta, sempre più pressanti, e si troverà a combattere per il suo amore e per il suo paese con forza e determinazione.

Elaine Bond, una giovane donna indipendente e anticonformista, sconvolge la tranquilla vita di un piccolo villaggio inglese. Il suo modo di vivere attira l'attenzione del misterioso libraio Basil Wall segretamente innamorato di lei. Quando un pericolo inaspettato incombe sulla comunità, Basil ed Elaine si ritrovano coinvolti in una pericolosa avventura che metterà alla prova il loro amore e la loro determinazione. Insieme, dovranno svelare un oscuro segreto e lottare per un futuro migliore, sfidando le convenzioni sociali e i poteri forti.

https://www.amazon.it/May-Mistakes-Serie-silver-Westminster-ebook/dp/B0DPL7S5SC/ref=sr_1_2?crid=96COZ1O72IRB&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.TxdoHjtqOJKt4k89q94ERTfNDPkD2wVzGknna6Kye38vQr4glOaMf_bzddrugex6k1bjIEUnJZ2xpTrPAoC_H3QMPmHArQRBq7Ct-hIOxnraXkdd-rfonShSRuMYe4cUxxAbcdW4oh6q7KPy4hu65QwH5x4-iC9--trlXca_CcYLzbeEIiGrjHv1sgTvMmhbEpLcLn3P9EsTjFcpcBlTJK70htUogs7McHuM4kpGPa8.I_j6aO6egtHiyCxqSict2LsQXmN_ogHdX9sF_qkAdQU&dib_tag=se&keywords=merry+farmer&qid=1740850023&s=digital-text&sprefix=merry+farmer+%2Cdigital-text%2C109&sr=1-2

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, mental health (past attempt mentioned), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Despair and Desperation

Rage. Hatred. Despair. Desperation. All emotions he had run the gamut of over the last couple of weeks. The night they had fought he had trashed his hotel room in a rage. Why couldn't she ever just shut the fuck up and listen? Why did she always jump to the worst possible conclusion and shut everyone out?

He could handle her hanging up on him. Calling him a cunt. Sending him straight to voicemail when he called her right back. What he couldn't handle was not knowing where she was at. If she was safe. She had turned off her location sharing. He couldn't handle her blocking his phone number. How the hell was he supposed to know she was fucking okay?

The rage turned into hatred. Not towards her. Towards himself. How did he let this happen? Why couldn't he have had the balls to say something to her before he left? No. Instead he had fucked her, tucked her back in, and slipped away while she slept. God, he was a fucking idiot. Anyone with half a brain either wouldn’t have let things get this far or just been fucking honest from the word go.

Then came the despair. He was listless. Barely putting any energy into his performances. The guys had noticed. Nicholas most of all. But he avoided any mention of Quinn. Any conversation that wasn’t strictly about work, honestly. Every day it was get up, unload, do sound check, perform, back on the bus or to a hotel room to lay in bed for hours on end. Sleep rarely came anymore. Most days he was running on no sleep, and no food. The longer this went on the more he wanted to die.

Would she even be there when he got home? Was he going home to an empty house, all of her stuff gone? Or would she still be there? He didn’t think he could handle going home to find her gone. Even if she was still mad. He couldn’t handle that. Finding his best friend gone? That would kill him.

Now with just one more show to go until the end of the tour he was desperate. Desperate to walk off that stage tonight, race to the airport, and get home. He had to know if she was there. Had to know if there was any chance of salvaging what friendship there may be left there.

“Hey, man. Maybe we should cancel tonight. You’re not doing so great.” Matt interrupted his thoughts.

“I’m fine, Matt.” Noah snipped, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Rereading the last text that went through to her. Just her name. He needed to be home. Needed her.

“Bullshit. You’re grumpy. Snapping at everyone. Trashed a fucking hotel room, that I had to fucking make right. You’re not eating. Not sleeping. You need to go home. Cancel the show tonight or I will.”

Noah closed his eyes, dropping it back against the wall he was leaned up against. Matt was probably right. He had been trying to be gentle about it for at least a week. Since he had thrown the microphone, stand and all, across the stage when he missed his cue during sound check.

“Flight isn’t until late.”

“Already got you an earlier one. Flight leaves in three hours. Get the fuck out of here.”

Noah stood there a moment, watching as Matt walked away. Something told him he had already canceled and was just going to let him think it was him that made the call. Matt was right. He had seen all the comments on social media about how he was acting every night on stage. How tired he looked.

Nicholas walked by, head low as he spoke quietly into his phone. His brother. The only other best friend he had. Even he would barely look at him these days. Tiptoed around him like he was a bomb, ready to go off at any moment. But there was a quiet understanding in the look he gave him. The small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew more than he was letting on. Shit. He was probably on the phone with Quinn right that moment, just trying to keep it from him.

Did he know if Quinn had left? Disappeared without a trace? He wanted to chase after him. Make him tell him everything he knew. Or at least tell him if she was okay. Instead he shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling his phone out as his feet carried him to the exit. He knew he was still blocked. But he had to try just one last time. If he was still blocked, his only real hope was that she hadn’t completely disappeared before he got home. Before he had the chance to try to fix all of this.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m coming home. Please be there.”

He hit send. Waited to see if it went through. No delivery receipt showed.

By the time he reached the exit he was at a dead sprint, praying it wasn’t too late by the time he got home.

Tags: @bloody-spades @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @mrscevans

[oliverxsutton]

Oliver grabbed his baking pan, the box of pasta he had in the cabinet as well as some of the chicken he had prepared the other night. “It’s pretty filling and should last a while,” he said, nodding. “There’s drinks in the fridge if you want wine or beer. Water too. Or tea. Coffee?” He rambled. “Candles should be…” he spun around in his spot. “Over on the coffee table, and I can grab the flashlights from the linen closet,” Oliver nodded after preheating the oven. He moved over to grab the flashlights from the bottom shelf, before checking if they worked.

He followed Oliver to the kitchen, scratching the crown of Lizzie's head as he passed her. He'd never been to the other man's house, and he found his eyes wandering. He searched for little pieces of Oliver in the decor, happy reminders of the personality he was growing so fond of. He leaned a hip against the countertop, crossing his arms and nodding at Oliver's suggestion. "That sounds hearty. Good for a time like this." He nodded out the window at the storm. The last time a man had cooked for him, he'd been in his twenties and living in Boston, but that thought was quickly suffocated. "You have candles, right? And flashlights? If the power goes out, we'll need them."

[schnoobums]

LUCIDS by Nicholas Podany

Quinn & Lydia Hills + Romantic Homicide by d4vd

[gayness-and-mayhem]

I'm sorry, but if Morse doesn't gaf about cricket, then why the hell does he have so many copies of Wisden on his bookshelf?

[saturnisfallingdown]

!! do not attempt to extract a stressed subject !!

quinn "i know he'll do anything to run from her" hills... I miss you so bad

[ID: Digital art of Quinn Hills from Lucids by Nicholas Podany. The colors consist of saturated bright blues and yellows. Quinn floats, with an apple in his hand. One eye is visible, and wide open. Zig-zag bolts reach from the edge of the image towards him. Text at the top reads 'he's a lucid!!!!' in lowercase. End ID]