#Competency Interview Questions
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businessabroad ¡ 1 year ago
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List of Questions used in Competency-Based Interview #17
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Decoding Competency-Based Interview Questions for the UN
The questions asked in a UN competency-based interview are not just inquiries—they're a window into your professional soul. Our "List of Questions Used in Competency-Based Interview - UN Jobs #17" video is your cheat sheet to understanding and mastering these probing questions.
From teamwork to leadership, this video breaks down the questions, reveals what interviewers are really looking for, and how to frame your experiences in a way that aligns with the UN's core competencies. It’s time to turn those questions into your stepping stones for success!
#UNCompetencyInterview #JobInterviewQuestions #UNJobHunt #CareerStrategies
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jicamasticks ¡ 3 days ago
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job interview went well and they've already reached out for a 2nd round to meet the team!! talking with the manager today made me feel really confident that the position is basically what I'm already doing - just in a different industry with a fatter paycheck
ngl it felt too easy, so I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop 😅 here's hoping it goes well, tho!! 🤞🤞
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duckwnoeyes ¡ 1 year ago
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Sasha Archivist au
Tossing my hat into the ring to answer 'What would have happened if Sasha had been made archivist instead of Jon'.
Personally, I believe that Sasha as head archivist would not start the apocalypse, but everything would still be sad and terrible. Let me explain:
First and foremost: addressing Sasha James' character. Since she died in season one (crying), we actually have fairly little to go off of. In that one season, we can only say a few things about Sasha. BUT mag 161 then goes ahead and turns everything we know about her on its head. She tells Tim that there's really no such thing as a real you, and we get the sense that maybe we didn't really know Sasha at all.
So, what does this tell us about Sasha as an archivist?
I think the most important piece of information regarding Sasha James, as a character, is her connection to Gertrude Robinson in Mag 161 and 162, and I believe it tells us all we need to know about an archivist Sasha.
Significantly, Gertrude named Sasha as her successor. This little piece of info drives me up the wall bc why did Gertrude choose Sasha??? Gertrude purposefully left the archives a mess so I doubt it was because she thought Sasha was the best academic.
Gertrude dedicated her entire life to preventing the apocalypse, sacrificing literally everything to save the world. Gertrude Robinson, needed to select the right successor, someone who would carry on her work. And Gertrude Robinson, who was an avatar of the watcher, of knowledge, must have had a good reason to choose her successor.
Because it is so important that Gertrude's tape in mag 161 is intended for Sasha. Gertrude tells her that she is entering "A place that will often demand a high price from you. Pay it without hesitation, because one way or another, the world is now on your shoulders." Gertrude has seemingly handpicked someone who knows exactly what it means when she tells them "Do what you have to do."
Because whilst we, the audience, don't know a whole lot about Sasha, Gertrude did. And what I think Gertrude Knew, is that Sasha would be able to do the same thing as her. Gertrude Knew that Sasha James would be just as ruthless and pragmatic in dealing with the apocalypse. That Sasha would make any and all necessary sacrifices.
Sasha immediately saw through Gertrude's mask of being a frail old woman. Who knew that Gertrude purposefully left the archives a state, wouldn't do what Jon did and try to reorganise them. Sasha having experienced artifact storage, would wait and trust in Gertrude's system.
Sasha, who invaded her co-workers' privacy by hacking into their computers, would have little problem joining up with the eye. Gertrude Robinson who again, knows an awful lot, put a lot of trust in the hope that Sasha would be just as cutthroat as her.
Archivist Sasha would still be a tragedy, and would still mirror Jon's descent into monster hood, but it would be a different kind. It would be Sasha's descent into ruthlessness, her making the kind of choices that Gertrude made, the kind that would have the story end with just as many dead archival assistants as in canon. But, no Armageddon. Because if you thought Gertrude feeding Michael Shelley to the distortion was bad, imagine Sasha leading Tim with a detonator to the Circus of the Other.
TLDR: Gertrude choosing Sasha is incredibly significant and implies that Sasha actually was or could have been just as ruthless as Gertrude as head archivist and thus would have prevented the apocalypse by sacrificing all of her assistants.
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idkacatmonstermaybe ¡ 7 months ago
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everyone light their imaginary angels prayer candles for me i have a job interview in the morning
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teabutmakeitazure ¡ 2 months ago
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opening Reddit to see if companies are still accepting internship applications right before bed was a mistake
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love222hate ¡ 2 years ago
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today i found out that my manager, the account manager for the entire contact of over 100 employees, hires based on vibes alone 🙊💀
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exopelagic ¡ 8 months ago
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years of training managing people who just wanna shout abt their own ideas has prepared me perfectly for group interviews
#hearing back later today hopefully so we’ll see if that paid off#but man. stick a group of highly competent people in a room and make them compete and they forget other people exist#5 people in the interview and had 5 minutes for a ‘presentation’ at the end. of which I had 20-30 seconds bc nobody else knew how to shut up#idk if my thing was what they were looking for but I just tried to keep people on track and make sure nobody got left behind#and that we actually answered the question at the end. bc they forgot about that too and just went off on their own things#very smart very cool people! my ideas were not as good! but I hope I managed to build off other people’s stuff + redirect to the main thing#man also nobody else noticed this one person just straight up dropped out the call. she’d been quiet and her video froze so I checked w her#and she’s just gone. didn’t get back in until the end. feel so bad for her but she’s still easily the one I would’ve given the job to#I’m gonna try not to post mortem all the things I could’ve said better bc I had points I didn’t bring up but I think I got the big stuff.#I said what was most important and that guided the flow of the rest of the thing so I had an influence and it was a good one#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ either by the end of today or on Monday I’ll find out whether I have a SECOND interview I guess#overall feeling good! was my impression coming out of it and I’m not gonna let myself anxiety that away#luke.txt
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botanicsoul ¡ 27 days ago
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The Secretary
agedup! Katsuki Bakugou x (Fem) Reader
MDNI!! (18+)
description: Your entire world flips when you become the explosive hero’s secretary. In the world of high stakes and even higher tension, will you be able to resist his pull, or will you find yourself lost in the heat of it all?” (this bitch is loooooong)
❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿
Pro Hero Dynamight has always been known to overwork at his agency.
Go above and beyond until something is perfect. Every file, every mission plan, every recruit—flawless or you’re wasting his damn time. He doesn’t do breaks. He doesn’t do patience. And he sure as hell doesn’t do mistakes.
People line up to work for him.
Because once you’ve worked under Dynamight, you can work anywhere. You’ve been sharpened by fire. Agencies compete for people who survive even six months at his side.
But just because everyone wants the job doesn’t mean they keep it.
He doesn’t notice most of his staff—doesn’t care to. The only people who get a fraction of his attention are his sidekicks and his PA team. The rest of you? Replaceable. Background.
That’s what you were. Just background.
A newly hired secretary brought in to replace the last one—fired, rumor has it, for leaving a single classified folder out overnight. You were pulled from a random list. No connections, no special qualifications. Just a name picked in a moment of desperation.
And from the beginning, you kept your head down.
Did your job. Stayed quiet. Didn’t try to get in his way. You figured if you didn’t bother him, you’d survive longer than the last girl.
And for a while, it worked.
Until he looked at you.
⸝
It was barely a glance, the first time. You were handing him a folder, and your fingers brushed his. That was it.
But the next day, he asked for you by name. “y/n go to this next meeting for me in 40 minutes and take some notes have it on my desk by 3”
The day after that? He called you into his office to retype a document you knew damn well his PA could’ve handled. He started showing up at your desk more. Asking questions. Staring a little too long when you answered.
No one said anything, but the change was obvious.
Your name started circulating in whispers.
Not in a good way.
Because Dynamight had a reputation. Not just for being a perfectionist or a hard-ass—but for being a flirt. The kind who smiled in interviews and left parties with models on his arm. He was cocky, crude, and didn’t hide the fact that he could get whoever he wanted. He was in the tabloids almost as much as he was on the news. You weren’t his type. Not even close. So whatever attention he was giving you? It had to be temporary.
⸝
Recently one of your male co-workers had been interacting with you a little more than usual lately. He’d stop by your desk for small talk, lingering longer than necessary and dropping subtle hints of flirting—hints you quickly brushed off.
One afternoon, as he stood by your desk chatting about the new coffee shop that had just opened a few blocks from the agency, you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy, aggressive footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air shifted. The floor seemed to still as the explosion hero’s voice cut through the buzz of conversation like a blade.
“Kato,” Dynamight said dryly, voice low but so loud and commanding that it echoed across the entire floor. “Leave my secretary alone and get the hell back to work.”
Everything went quiet.
You could feel the eyes of your coworkers flicking between you and Bakugou, the tension thick in the air. Kato blinked, visibly flinching before muttering something under his breath and practically scrambling away. After that? Silence. No more desk visits. No more awkward compliments. He disappeared.
A few days passed, then a week. You hadn’t realized just how quiet it had been until you were in the break room, talking with Yumi, one of the only people you were actually close with at work. She was leaning against the counter, sipping her tea when you brought it up.
“Hey, Yumi,” you said casually, trying to sound nonchalant as you stirred your drink. “Have you seen Kato around? Last time we talked, he mentioned grabbing coffee at that new place nearby.”
Yumi gave you a look over her cup. “Oh? You don’t know?”
You blinked. “Know what?”
She lowered her voice, leaning in slightly like she was about to share a secret. “After Dynamight yelled at him, Kato got transferred to the other floor—support tech. Apparently he asked for it himself.”
Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Word is he went to HR the same day. Said something about ’not wanting to interfere with higher-up dynamics.’” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “You ask me? I think he got the message loud and clear—and maybe a little scared. Bakugou doesn’t exactly play subtle.”
You felt your cheeks warm, not sure if it was from embarrassment or something else entirely. You looked away, but Yumi smirked.
“He’s totally territorial over you, you know.”
You rolled your eyes, though your heart was beating just a little faster. “He’s my boss.”
Yumi laughed. “Right. And I’m just here for the free snacks.”
⸝
Things started getting more odd after you grabbed your paycheck, scanning it quickly. Your eyes widen. There’s an extra $200 in there. What the hell?
You head straight to HR, a bit confused. “Hey, I think you guys messed up my pay. There’s, uh, an extra amount in here.”
The HR rep looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “No, we didn’t mess up. You got the raise from the boss yesterday. Didn’t you know?”
You blink. “A raise? From Dynamight?”
They nod. “Yeah. He approved it. It’s all there. So… enjoy the extra cash?”
You stand there for a moment, trying to process it. He didn’t say anything about a raise.
Later, you march into Bakugou’s office. He looks up from his desk, not even bothering to look surprised.
“Aren’t you supposed to be re-organizing those files? I told you I needed that done today y/n” he grumbles, like it’s just another day.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were giving me a raise?” you ask, arms crossed. “I went to HR, and they said it’s from you. You just… threw in a $200 bump like it was nothing?”
He shrugs, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, and?. You’ve been working hard, so you get a bump. Don’t make it a big deal.”
You stare at him, trying to hide the confusion. “But you couldn’t have just said something, I thought it was a true and honest mistake? I didn’t want to get in trouble or anything.”
“Not my problem. It’s in your paycheck. Deal with it,” he grunts, turning his attention back to his papers.
“But I-“ you were quickly cut off by his desk phone ringing.
“y/l/n can’t you just fuckin’ thank me? now get back to work don’t ever question me again” he says before answering the phone.
You stand there, a little speechless. You eventually turn around and leave his office just to sit at your desk still confused as ever.
⸝
work had been piling up, you started staying later than usual at nights. But this night was different.
It was supposed to be simple—just a few files left to organize, highlight, and prep for tomorrow morning. Everyone else on the floor had cleared out hours ago. You liked the quiet. No one breathing down your neck. Just your thoughts and the occasional creak of the building.
Then the elevator dinged.
You didn’t look up until you heard the crash—something hard slamming against the wall near the lift.
And then, there he was.
Him.
Pro Hero Dynamight. In full gear. Hair still wild from battle, jaw tight—and in his arms? A woman.
Not just any woman. A model. One you’d seen in magazines, ads, maybe even a billboard or two. And they weren’t just walking. They were clawing at each other, lips locked, her dress hitched halfway up her thighs. His hands all over her.
He didn’t even glance your way—until he did.
Right as he shoved open his office door.
His eyes locked on you. Smoldering. Unbothered. Maybe even a little amused.
And then he shut the door behind them. Click.
Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then you heard it.
The moaning. The banging. The desperate, ugly sounds of sex through that too-thin wall, and you didn’t even hesitate. You gathered your things, barely breathing, and booked it for the elevator before your face could give anything away. You didn’t look back.
But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he stared at you.
Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
⸝
The next morning, you came in earlier than usual—half-hoping, half-praying you wouldn’t have to see him.
Your desk felt different. Like it had absorbed last night’s shame. The pens in your cup were crooked. The light too bright. You reorganized your files twice just to stop your hands from shaking.
You told yourself he wouldn’t bring it up.
He wouldn’t have to.
Because it meant nothing.
To him, it was just another Tuesday night. Another random girl. Another fuck.
And then… you saw him.
Striding across the hallway from his office—jacket slung over his shoulder, hair freshly wet from a shower, and a goddamn coffee in hand like he hadn’t just traumatized you twelve hours ago.
He didn’t even look at you. Not at first.
He passed your desk with that same practiced indifference, talking to a sidekick about an upcoming mission, barely blinking. You exhaled. Maybe it was just another night. Maybe he really didn’t care.
Then, without warning, he stopped mid-step. Turned his head just slightly. Your blood ran cold. But he kept walking. That was it. That tiny little jab, buried so deep it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else—but you knew.
He knew. And now he was watching to see what you’d do with it.
⸝
You didn’t do anything. What could you do?
You buried yourself in your work. Avoided his gaze when he passed your desk. Ignored the little smirk that tugged at his mouth every time your fingers trembled while handing him a report. You told yourself it would fade—that he’d get bored and move on.
But he didn’t. He kept finding reasons to come by. Most times it was work-related. sometimes it wasn’t.
“Where’s the file from yesterday? The one you highlighted.”
“There’s a typo on this one. Wanna tell me where your brain was?”
“You always jump when someone groans, or is that just me?”
“do you always wear skirts that short?”
And the worst part? He never looked guilty. Never embarrassed. Just amused. Like he’d found a new game to play—and you were the only one who didn’t know the rules.
⸝
The next night came.
You were once again the last one in the office, filing mission reports. This time, you double-checked the elevator schedule before staying late. Dynamight had a press conference that evening. He wouldn’t be back until hours later—if at all.
You let your guard down.
Big mistake.
Because when the elevator dinged around 10:43 p.m., and you turned expecting to see a janitor or a delivery guy—
It was him. Alone.
No model this time. Just Dynamight. Loose black tee, sweats slung low, dog tags catching the hall light. He didn’t say a word. Just walked down the hall, slow and deliberate, until he was standing at your desk.
You blinked up at him. “…Can I help you, sir?”
He stared for a moment—eyes hooded, lazy. Then leaned a forearm on your desk. “You’re always here late.” Your throat tightened. “There’s a lot to do.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gaze dipping briefly to your lips. “That why you stayed last night too?”
“I—I didn’t realize anyone else was—”
“Oh, you realized.” That smug look returned. “You saw everything, didn’t you?” Heat crawled down your spine. He tilted his head slightly. “And what’d you think, secretary? Get a good show?” You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor.
“I’m—going home. I’m done for the night.”
But as you tried to slip past him, he didn’t move.
Just let his fingers graze the edge of your desk—then yours. Soft. Barely there. Enough to make you stop.
And his voice? Lower this time. Quieter. Laced with something darker. “I fucked her thinking about you all alone out here” he said under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear.
As you took the bus home after work, his words lingered in your mind. he made you feel like some dirty pervert.
⸝
The following day came, you were a nervous wreck coming to work and praying to whoever was up there to not see him again. But for some reason lady luck was on your side because word got around that Dynamight wouldn’t be in office due for a little to an over ran mission a couple of cities over. You felt the weight of what was like an elephant lift from your shoulders hearing it. The next couple of days you could breathe and get your work done, until the night he came back. You weren’t planning to stay late again but the mission reports were a mess, your inbox was full, and your brain was too fried to say no when your team lead asked for help. Plus you wanted to get it all done so you could go home early for the weekend tomorrow.
Everyone else had left. The sun was long gone, the sky a navy blur behind the tall glass windows. You figured he was still out. Same patrol mission or high-level meeting.
You were so fucking wrong.
The elevator dinged at 11:36pm. You didn’t even look up because you just KNEW. you heard the heavy bootsteps crossing the hall, slow and measured—each one landing like they meant something.
You slowly looked up. There he was.
Hair messy from the wind, shirt clinging to his frame, jaw sharp with tension like he’d been gritting it for hours. He didn’t say anything—just stood there, watching you behind that massive front desk like you were the one interrupting him.
You swallowed. HARD. “…e-evening.”
A low hum left his throat, his gaze staying on you like you were the only thing in the room.
He didn’t walk away. Just shifted his weight slightly, his eyes scanning your desk. You could feel the pressure of his stare, like he was seeing right through you.
You followed his line of sight—realizing too late that your files were fanned out everywhere. Messy. Color-coded. Your pink highlighter cap left open next to your now cold coffee.
Shit.
You scrambled to get up and gather everything, heart thudding harder than you’d like to admit. “I—I’ll get these off before I leave. I just wanted to finish highlighting—”
He didn’t let you finish.
One step closer, without warning.
His body moved with purpose, no hesitation. He didn’t lean in, didn’t raise his voice, but somehow his presence swallowed you whole.
He just tapped twice—once, twice—on the corner of a sticky note beside your hand.
Then, his voice came, low, clipped, a little too calm for your liking.
“Next time you highlight mission details…”
“…don’t use pink.”
he paused for a moment looking at you while his finger was still resting on the sticky note.
“I fucking hate pink.”
You stiffened, trying to shake off the irritation that bubbled up in your chest.
“Well, maybe I’m not here to impress you,” you muttered under your breath, your annoyance pushing you further than you meant to go.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even react at first.
You tried to ignore the sudden heat crawling up your neck. It was just a comment—nothing more.
But then you saw it.
His lips curled into a faint smirk, that signature cocky grin of his. He leaned in just a little more, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket like he was too relaxed, too calm for the situation.
“Not here to impress me?” His voice was smooth, almost condescending. “Then why the hell are you even still here, huh?”
Your jaw tightened. You were about to fire back, but he wasn’t done.
He took another step forward. This time, there was no space left between you.
His eyes narrowed, gaze dropping from your face to the pink highlighter in your hand. He reached out, slowly, deliberately, taking the cap from the table and flicking it absentmindedly.
His eyes met yours, cold but sharp. He didn’t blink.
“You wanna talk back to me, huh? You wanna act like you don’t care what I think?” He leaned in closer, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body. “You’ll get real fucking tired of that attitude real fast.”
You tried to hold your ground, but something in the air was shifting. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that made you feel small. Vulnerable. He was in your space now—too close. But you couldn’t bring yourself to back away.
“What, you think I’m scared of you?” Your voice was steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.
His lips curled into a knowing grin, his fingers brushing the back of your hand like it was nothing. But the touch was deliberate. “No, but I think you like it.”
You inhaled sharply, your pulse quickening.
“Like what?” you breathed, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.
“Like it when I call you out,” he replied, his voice dripping with something dangerously close to amusement. “Like it when I make you feel something you don’t know how to handle.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he stepped back.
His eyes locked onto yours one last time, with a smooth, and mocking tone. “Not here to impress me, huh? Guess what? You’re not fooling anyone.”
You bristled at the implication, trying to pull away from the tension that was building in the space between you two. But he didn’t let up. Instead, he moved even closer, stepping into your personal space until there was barely an inch of air between you.
“Keep playing it cool,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “But I know exactly what you want.“
His lips were only inches from yours now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin.
Your heart pounded, and the words escaped you before you could stop them.
“And what exactly do you think I want?” you breathed.
His grin widened, a wicked, confident curl of his lips, and then, in a voice that was barely a whisper, he answered, “You want me to prove it.”
“fuck you” that’s all it took.
And before you could even process what he meant, he was on you.
His hands found your waist, lifting you onto the desk, making sure there was no space between you. The way he kissed you, with so much force and urgency, made it clear he wasn’t about to stop.
You gasped as he trailed his lips down to your collarbone, his hands already pulling at your shirt, lifting it over your head. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the best way. The heat in your body was building rapidly, your skin tingling where his hands brushed.
“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before,” he growled, his lips back on yours with a hunger you couldn’t resist.
You pulled him closer, urging him to take what he wanted, because deep down, you knew you were past the point of no return.
And when his hands moved to the waistband of your pants, you didn’t hesitate, lifting your hips to let him undress you completely.
He didn’t waste any time, his mouth back on your neck, his hands working to free himself from his pants, all while he never broke eye contact with you.
“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice thick with lust, the words slipping from him in a low growl.
You could hardly breathe, let alone think. But somehow, you managed to whisper, “Dynamight.”
He smirked against your neck, his hand coming down on your ass with a harsh smack, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You jolted, a breathless gasp escaping your lips, and he leaned back, his eyes narrowing.
“I said, say MY fucking name,” he repeated, his voice a little sharper this time.
You moaned, your body aching for more as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Katsuki,” you whined, your voice higher, desperate. The sound of his name on your lips, the way it twisted in the air between you two, sent him into a frenzy.
He didn’t give you a moment to recover—he grabbed your thighs and dragged you to the edge of the desk, his mouth crashing into yours again, hungry and unrelenting. You felt the hard press of his cock against your bare core, still hidden behind the fabric of his boxers, and you instinctively rolled your hips, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.
“You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ insane,” he hissed against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this. Walkin’ around the office in those tight little skirts… lookin’ at me like that… like you wanted to be fucked.”
You whimpered, and he chuckled darkly, pulling his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. The sight alone had your breath hitching, and he noticed.
“Yeah?” he muttered, stroking himself slowly as he watched your reaction. “This what you’ve been needin’? Bet your fingers couldn’t even come close to makin’ you feel this full.”
And then he pushed in—slowly, almost teasing, stretching you inch by inch until your back arched and a breathless moan spilled from your lips, your eyes rolling in the back of your skull.
“Fuck—you feel better than I ever imagined,” he gritted, gripping your hips so tight you knew he’d leave marks. “Tight little pussy takin’ me so well.”
He set a brutal pace, snapping his hips against yours, the desk creaking beneath you both his as your body rocked with each thrust. You could barely form words—just whimpers and his name on loop like a prayer.
And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get filthier, he leaned in, his voice rasping directly into your ear.
“You know how many girls I’ve fucked the last two weeks?”
Each word was punctuated by a hard, punishing thrust.
“Every. Single. ONE of them—I thought about you.”
You gasped, your nails clawing at his back as your orgasm built dangerously fast.“Thought bout how beautiful you’d look bent over my fuckin’ desk takin’ my cock.”
Your eyes rolled back, the filthy words and his relentless rhythm dragging you closer to the edge. Your whole body trembled under him, your mind trying to deny it, trying to keep up, but your body had already surrendered. It needed him. All of him.
“And how amazing your tits would look bouncin’ in my face as you ride me.” he leaned down to your chest and sucked on your tit as he fondled the other with his free hand.
You gasped as his words hit you like a wave, the sharpness of his growl sending a tremor through your body. Every word he spoke, every thrust, made it harder to remember what it was you were supposed to resist.
His pace quickened, and you were helpless under him. Each snap of his hips felt like a jolt of electricity, shooting through your veins, making you gasp and moan for him. The desk beneath you scraped against the floor as he pushed you closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on, your fingers digging into the wood as you clung to whatever semblance of control you had left.
“Say my name again,” he commanded, his voice thick with need. “Say it and mean it this time.”
“Kats-sukiiiiiaaa,” you breathed, your head thrown back, the sensation of him inside you almost too much to handle. You could feel your walls tightening around him, your body already on the brink of breaking. You were so close—so close you could taste it.
His lips curled into a wicked grin as he saw the desperation in your eyes, his pace never slowing. “That’s it, princess,” he growled, his hand snaking down to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You’re mine now. All mine and not any of these shitty extras around this place”.
You could barely respond, your mind clouded with the pleasure he was giving you. Every inch of your body felt like it was on fire, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core until you were trembling with the effort of holding back.
And then, with one last, forceful thrust, he drove you over the edge. Your body arched against him, your moans a desperate mixture of his name and incoherent sounds. His name tumbled from your lips again, this time louder, as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and weak.
But Bakugou didn’t stop. He wasn’t done with you yet.
He kept going, pushing you through your orgasm with a brutal determination that had you gasping for air. His thrusts grew erratic, faster, harder, as his own release approached. His breath was ragged in your ear, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.
With one final growl, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling over as he held you against him, each shuddering breath making it clear just how much he needed you—how much he’d been holding back.
For a long moment, you both stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, breathless and spent. He kissed your forehead softly, a rare moment of tenderness after the storm, but the fire in his eyes never fully faded.
“Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll be fuckin’ you in my bed not some flimsy office desk.”
You smiled, your fingers tracing the muscles in his back as you both tried to catch your breath. This… this was just the beginning.
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no-144444 ¡ 6 months ago
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the grid: when the media says something insane...
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req: Hi, I'd like to request a blurb about the drivers reacting to reader being talked bad about from an interviewer. Scenario-Interviewer: "Do you think the reason you lost today's race is because 'y/n' was here and had something to do with it?"
featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.
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Oscar Piastri: makes the interviewer feel dumb asf
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“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's breaking your record of competing in every lap so far this year? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.
Oscar frowned. “What are you trying to say?”
“I was just wondering if you count your partner, Y/n, as a bad luck charm now. This is her first Grand Prix, isn’t it?” 
He actually laughed in her face. “Do you seriously believe in shit like that?” he chuckled. “And no, it’s not her first, nor will it be her last.”
Danica stood, embarrassed. 
“Do you have any other questions?” he asked, polite as ever. She didn’t respond. “Thanks for the joke anyway, that was actually quite funny,” Oscar added as he moved onto the next interview, a bright smile on his face despite the poor race result.
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Lando Norris: insults the interviewer
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“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's cementing your loss in the Driver’s Championship? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.
He stared at her for a moment, trying to compose himself. “If you’re talking about my girlfriend, I’d suggest you just come out and say it, Danica.”
“Alright then, do you see her as a bad luck charm now? Considering this is her first race, if I’m right,” she asked outright. Jenson rolled his eyes beside her as Martin just chuckled. 
“Not at all, she’s here to support me and I’d much rather have her here for a day like today than a win. It’s called a support system Danica, I’m aware of the fact that you’re not a fan of those, but some of us actually benefit from caring about other people. And another thing, all of my bad races, you’ve been there. Maybe you’re the bad luck charm,” his voice cut through the tension in the cold Las Vegas air like a knife, and Jenson and Martin just started laughing as Danica stood there dumbfounded. “Maybe I should ask Sky to not bring you around as much.” 
He handed the microphone back and continued on with his day, then posted this later: 
landonorris
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liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and 479,933 others
landonorris: idc if ur bad luck ur too sexy to let go of 🥴
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Lewis Hamilton: protective much?
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“It’s Y/n’s first race in years, and yet you DNF for the first time in months, do you want to give us some insight to that?” Danica asked. 
Lewis’s eyebrow raised and an annoyed smile made its way onto his face. “What are you saying right now?”
“Well, it’s just strange that her first race in years, 2 to be exact, is the one you don’t finish.”
“Are you trying to insinuate that she’s bad luck or something?” 
“Is that what you believe her to be?” 
“Fuck no,” he scoffed. “She’s my wife, is what she is. I’m grateful that she’s here. I love to share my love of motorsport with my wife, and I don’t feel sorry for the media that she's been preoccupied with being pregnant and busy to be here for the last 2 years. I love having her come and support me, and I’m happy that I didn’t finish the fucking race, I get more time with my family now. I cannot believe you enjoy making shitty headlines like this. Danica, maybe just stick to fucking driving.”
With that, he walked away, and later made this post:
lewishamilton
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liked by pierregasly, francocolapinto, and 2,393,932 others
lewishamilton: my good luck charms xx
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George Russell: flabbergasted that someone would have the audacity 
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“Sorry about the result today George, do you feel like external factors made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
“Y’know, it’s been pretty tough all year with the car but it really felt like we pulled back to the top today, and it was just a shame that Lando went wide and pushed me into the gravel,” he shrugged.
“And you don’t see your girlfriend as a bad luck charm? It is her first race, right?”
He death-stared her for a moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Well, we just wanted to know how you react to knowing that it’s her first race and it’s also the race you DNFed in.”
“I don’t have a reaction,” he scoffed. “Your headlines are going to be written anyway, it doesn’t matter what I say. I don’t see her as bad luck or whatever rubbish you’re going to paint this as, and I don’t really care what you think about it. Anyway, it’s not like you have the monopoly on perfect races, Danica.” 
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Kimi Antonelli: awkward and insulted 
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“Sorry about the result today Kimi, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
“Umm…” he trailed off, looking at George confused. George shook his head, silently telling him not to answer. “I don’t know what you mean?” 
“Well there were external factors, obviously, but also your girlfriend was in the paddock for the first time this weekend, correct?”
He nodded. 
“So do you see her as some sort of bad luck charm, or something?”
He pulled a face of disgust for a split second. “No, not at all. She went to every single one of my F2 races so I don’t see how she could have been bad luck here when she was not bad luck there,” he shrugged. 
“So she’s not bad luck?” 
He chuckled awkwardly. “N-no. Like I say, she was at every one of my F2 races. I think she is lucky, if anything.” 
He walked away confused as George reassured him that they were just fishing for headlines and to ‘not give them the time of day’. He was slightly worried that you would think you were a bad luck charm and quickly found you and showed you that you weren’t.
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Alex Albon: shocked. 
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“Sorry about the race today Alex, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
“Umm,” he kind of chuckled. “I don’t think so? I mean it was so wet so I’m not shocked that I went off.”
“But in the garage, do you think you would’ve been more focused if your girlfriend hadn’t been there?”
He just stared at her with a slightly shocked smile as she held the microphone to his face. “Did you actually just ask that?”
She didn’t answer, just nodding. 
“Well, why don’t we think back to every other race she’s been at this year. Monaco, Canada, Silverstone, Austria, and Baku, which were all my best races this season, apart from maybe Canada.”
“Yes, but today she was-”
“In the garage, the same as she always is. Wow, you’ll really do anything for a headline.”
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Franco Colapinto: Sassy asf 
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“Sorry about the crash today, glad to see you’re ok Franco. Do you think this weekend has been a bit more difficult because of distractions or something new being in a paddock? We saw that it was your girlfriend's first GP this weekend, could she have anything to do with it?” Danica asked. 
He did a double take, staring at her. “¿Qué? Is that really what you think?” 
She shrugged. “It’s only a question.”
“It’s a stupid question,” he scoffed. “¿Por qué traería mala suerte? She has been at every race so far and I haven’t seen anyone complaining.” (Why would she be bad luck?)
“So she’s not bad luck?”
He laughed. “Do I have to repeat things 3 times for you to understand?”
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Logan Sargeant: angry
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“Sorry about the result today Logan, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
He stared at her, then pushed the mic away from him. “I’m not answering stupid fucking questions about my girlfriend.”
And he walked off. And posted this later…
logansargeant
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liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, jensonbutton, and 345,938 others
logansargeant: let's not bring my girlfriend into this, yeah?
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Daniel Riccardo: plays it off. 
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“Sorry about the end of the race today Danny, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
He laughed, thinking she was joking. His eyes widened when he realised she wasn’t. “You think I can’t race because my girlfriend is in the back of the garage?”
“It is her first GP, correct?” 
He chuckled. “No, no it’s not. She’s always there, and anyways, I’m in the car, it’s not like I have all the time in the world to stare at her ass or something,” he smiled. “I know she’s beautiful but I don’t exactly see her when I’m going to the straight at 200 kilometres an hour.”
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Liam Lawson: sassy man apocalypse 
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“Sorry about the end of the race today Liam, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 
“What do you mean?” he asked, confused about the question. 
“Your girlfriend was here for the first time, could she be a bad luck charm for the team?”
“I don’t think she is but I do know that your interviews make me feel pretty fucking unlucky,” he scoffed before walking off. 
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Charles LeClerc: laughs in their face
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“Charles, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?”
He started laughing and didn’t stop for about a minute. He was as bad as Lando, to the point that Carlos had to actually walk him off the fan stage. He came back on, teary-eyed and smiling. “I think it’s quite funny.”
“Evidently,” Carlos scoffed. 
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Carlos Sainz: …
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“Carlos, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?” Danica asked.
“What people are saying that?” he asked. 
“The media,” she answered. 
“Well they always have bullshit to say. I’m just surprised they had the balls to go after my wife,” he scoffed. “They’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“That sounds extreme-”
“It’s defamation of character and she’s my wife. Nothing is extreme.” 
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Arthur LeClerc: Won’t answer
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“Sorry about the race today Arthur, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”
“What a stupid question, no,” he scoffed before walking away. 
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Ollie Bearman: insulted
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"Sorry about your race today Ollie, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"
He stared at her. "No. Why would she be?"
"It's her first GP and you DNF, if that's not bad luck I'm not sure what is."
"That's pretty rude," he scoffed. "Don't bring my girlfriend into this."
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Max Verstappen: guys…
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"Sorry about your race today Max, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"
He stared at her, his eyes dark. "Fuck off."
"Excuse me?"
"That's bullshit, don't bring my family into this. If I have a bad race, I have a bad race, that's just how it goes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't for you to make headlines about and she's not here to just be a good omen. She's my partner and she's here to support me, that's it."
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Paul Aron: laughs in their face…
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"How do you feel about the result to day, do you think things could've been different if someone wasn't distracting you?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"We saw your race engineer giving out to you and your partner Y/n for distracting you. Do you think she might now be a bad luck charm?"
He scoffed, laughing in her face. "Bullshit, someone turned into me and I didn't have enough time to react. Your headline can be about that, keep my girlfriend out of this."
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Jack Doohan: so normal about it! (...)
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“Sorry about the race today Jack, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”
He knew what they were trying to say. “Do you want to just say what you want to say to my face?” 
She was taken aback. “Do you think Y/n is a bad luck charm?”
He scoffed. “You’re seriously fishing for headlines when someone could’ve been seriously injured? That’s pathetic. And another thing, she’s not a fucking bad luck charm, she’s my partner, she’s not just a headline for you to fuck with.”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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thebestsetter ¡ 6 months ago
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Thinking about Isagi Yoichi going absolutely insane when someone talks shit about you, his one and only girlfriend.
And I'm not saying insane as in "Don't talk about her like that!". I'm saying insane as in "Say her name again with that filthy mouth of yours and I swear I'll cut your fucking tongue off."
He can handle people badmouthing him. It's not that deep, really. He's a football player, so, like every other athlete, he has fans and haters all around the globe (more fans than haters, but anyways). So, he developed the hability to just tune off all the hateful comments. Badmouth him all you want, that ain't changing the fact that he's a sucessful all star player and you're not.
What he can't handle, though, is when someone tries to talk shit about his relationship with you, his favorite person in the whole world.
Sadly for the media, you're not a famous singer or model. Yoichi and you met when you were both still little kids, dreaming about monsters, princesses and the world cup trophy. In kindergarten, he thought you were a very great friend. He realized you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen when you were middle schoolers, and, by the time high school came, he had already learned to accept the fact that he was head over heels for you. And so, like a "straight out of a movie" kind of scene, he confessed his love for you all sweaty and smiling in front of the whole world after his winning goal at the Blue Lock XI against Japan U20 match two years ago.
So yeah, you and Isagi had a cute love story. Every video of you together had millions of views and thousands of "couple goals" comments, and people loved you (honestly, how could they not? You're amazing, he's not even sure how he managed to make you fall for his "football rizz" or something, but he's glad you did anyways).
Apparently, not everyone appreciated you as much as he thought.
"Isagi, one minute of your time, please!"
"Isagi, for french press right here!"
"Yoichi, answer my question!"
"Wow. One at a time, guys!" Isagi smiled nervously yet kindly, sitting in a chair in front of the mass of reporters from all across the world who came just to interview him.
Smiling again, Isagi pointed at one of the what seemed like thousands interviewers.
"The lady over there, with the Sae Itoshi shirt"
"Thank you for the opportunity" The room became silent. The woman, seemingly in her late twenties, smiled "I'm Maria, from Brazil's national TV press. I'd like to ask a question you about your relationship with (Name) (Surname)"
Smiling wide like a lovesick fool like he always did when someone mentioned you or your relationship, Yoichi urged the reporter to continue.
"Sure. Go ahead."
"It's a known fact that you and (Name) (Surname) have been in a relationship for a little over two years. And so, your fans are wondering: do you plan on getting married shortly?"
The silence in the room was papable. All the cameras and microphones turned to a now strawberry red Yoichi. But he wasn't embarassed because of all the attention he was getting or from the fact that the whole world was seeing this right now. He was used to this feeling of "pressure" already.
He was red because he knew you were watching this interview. He was the one who asked you to do so, after all.
"Uhm... well" he swallowed hard, eyes avoiding the cameras "We have a healthy and happy relationship. We both love each other very much and spend a lot of time together. So... I guess I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought about it before, but..."
He couldn't even finish his sentence. The press' reaction was instantaneous. Cameras' flashes everywhere and the reporters voices overlaping eachother filled the room.
"BUT" Isagi tried to continue, but just gave up on shouting since his voice couldn't compete with the voice of the lots of reporters. So, he just said to the mic in front of him, almkst whispering, hoping it would capture his voice "I think it's still a little early. I want to make sure we're both mature and financially secure first!"
Reporters were still talking and trying to get his attention. With a sigh, he realized they wouldn't stop shouting until the next question came.
"T-the guy with the light shirt"
"Argentinian press right here" the man started.
Oh oh. Yoichi didn't sense a good vibe from this man. He doesn't know if it's his smirk or his posture, but something feels off. He looks almost dangerous.
I'm probably going crazy, Yoichi thought.
When the man opened his mouth again, though, Isagi realized his intuition was right all along.
"I know you said you love your girlfriend, but you do realize the fans think your girl is just keeping you from becoming the best version of yourself, right?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"What." Isagi said, the words coming out in a rather forced way.
Unlike before, the silence in the room was not only palpable. It was now suffocating, uncomfortable.
"Well, it's clear as water" the man shrugged, as if what he was saying made a lot of sense "She is stopping you from becoming the number one striker in the world."
All Isagi wanted to do now was jump across the room and send his fist flying straight to the man's face. He wanted it to realize how utterly wrong he was. How your relationship was actually the best thing that had ever happened in his life, and how he would have probably given up on football have you not begged him to go to the Blue Lock program.
And the though of you sweet, caring you watching this made Yoichi give up on his idea of hitting the man straight on the nose, even if his body was trembling just from thinking about it.
I have to keep my cool. For her.
"Why..." he swallowed. Hard. "Why do you think this is truth?"
"You're not using your time wisely. Instead of practicing, your wasting it because you keep giving for futile things like a relationship"
Oh, how much Yoichi wanted to jump this ugly looking clown. How he wished to hit him hundreds of times, over and over again until he swallowed his own words. Until he regretted ever learning how to even speak.
His fist was already trembling. He was taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.
But it seems like the argentinian doesn't know when to stop.
"Also, it gets kinda tiring living with the same person for a long time, no?" The man laughed "I wouldn't blame you if you're actually cheating on her too, I honestly wouldn't have just one girl if I was you. I mean, you're a star and she's just..."
"Shut. the fuck. up."
All the cameras turned to him again. Yoichi was red. But it's not cause he was embarassed, like the other time.
He was red because he was seething with boiling rage.
I'll kill him. I swear I'll fucking kill this dumb shit.
"Never" Yoichi narrowed his eyes "And I mean never say my girlfriend's name with that disgusting voice of yours again. If you as much as look at her, consider yourself fucking dead." He got up from the table, gaze harder than the one he wears on the field "That woman is the source of my happiness, and you have no right to talk about her like that. If you talk with me with respect you have to show respect for her too. Are we clear? Or is your skull too fucking thick for the information to get into it?
"Calm down, amigo! I was just saying what the fans think." The man smirked, gald to get a reaction from Isagi. If looks could kill, he would have been 6 feet under already "They think it would be better if you both break up..."
"You've fucking done it."
Yoichi jumped from the table, ready to kill the man.
He wanted to crush his skull with his bare hands, to show him just how much you mean to him and how mad he gets when someone mentions you in a degrading way.
Gladly, the japanese PR team removed the man from the room before things could get worse, or else Yoichi would realky have done some damage (he was an athlete, after all).
Watching the man leave the room with furrowed brows and a subtle pout (he really wanted to beat him, after all), Iaagu decided to use this moment to make some things clear. So, he turned to the main mic again.
"I hope this serves as a lesson" Yoichi said, somehow managing to look at almost all of the cameras at the same time "To everyone watching this. Don't expect to talk shit about my girlfriend and get out with all of your teeth in place. I fucking dare anyone to badmouth her. I won't let you get away with it." He glared at one of the cameras "This press ends now."
He then quickly got out of the room, ignoring all the reporters who tried to get him to come back.
With a sigh, once he was in the changing room, he grabbed his phone, not surprised to see almost 20 missed calls and 50 missed massages from you.
(My love ❤️)
-> YOICHI???
-> WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING
-> (1 missed call)
Don't worry, I'm going home now 😁 <-
Miss you ❤️ <-
-> Typing...
With a smile, he put his phone in his pocket and started to go home.
Man, he just really wanted to see you. Specially since he knew that the next day, the press would want more interviews about what happened.
Whatever. What really matters is that, at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours. And no amount of dumb reporters or media will ever change that.
~ A/N: not proofread. This sucks 💔 I wrote this to stop my growing Aiku obsession LOL
Masterlist
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queenie-ofthe-void ¡ 9 months ago
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No one's really surprised to see famous rockstar Eddie Munson show up to the 2024 Paris Olympics. His close friendship with three-time medalist gymnast Chrissy Cunningham had the press working over time when the pair were first spotted six years ago leaving a fundraising event.
However, no one can seem to figure out why- in Chrissy's down time- the metal head is frequently spotted at the men's swimming events. Everyone knows Munson's queer, but he's not the type to show up just to oggle some poor, unsuspecting athletes (he is, but the press don't need to know he's a bit of a freak).
Prime time news coverage chock it up to Eddie supporting the best of the USA's Olympians, including Steve Harrington, who just broke the world record for men's fastest 100m freestyle. They'd pointed out it wasn't odd he was there, since he also made appearances at other events with up and coming stars, such as Lucas Sinclair for men's basketball and Nancy Wheeler for women's skeet shooting. When asked about it, he'd laughed it off, saying swimming was Chrissy's favorite sport to watch and he promised he'd fill her in on what she missed.
That didn't stop fans online from obsessing over small details, including Eddie's repeat appearances at the swimming events, where he only showed once for anything else that wasn't Chrissy's competitions. There was no way he could keep Chrissy filled in on what she missed when he only showed up to meets Harrington competed in, not all men's swimming events.
Fan edits of Eddie Munson clapping a little too hard, screaming a little too loud, and overall just a little bit more excited for Harrington's podium than Chrissy's gold medal spread across the internet like wildfire. One blurry shot caught Harrington briefly look in his direction when he won his silver, but it was hard to be certain.
Tucked into bed after another long day of interviews, Eddie pulls up a few of the best fan edits Jeff and Gareth sent him earlier. It's become a bit of a habit over the past few weeks to watch his favorite ones before he goes to sleep. He feels the bed dip next to him, a warm hand slide over his chest and a leg push between his own.
"Aww babe," Steve coos, "did we get new ones today?"
Eddie leans down, dropping little kisses on his husband's forehead. "Apparently Jeff says these ones are even more convincing than last week's."
Steve hums a content little sigh before nuzzling into the crook of Eddie's neck. They've been riskier about public appearances this time around compared to Tokyo, but they've agreed to publicly come out after this year's games are over. So, why not have a little fun with it?
They release a fan edit of their own later that year posted on the official Corroded Coffin profile. It's a reaction video of them watching all of their favorite tiktoks and fanart and Tumblr posts. They laugh, point out inaccuracies, answer fan questions, and post a few pictures of their own, including the two of them standing under an arch of flowers exchanging rings.
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rex-rambles ¡ 3 months ago
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➤ SPOTTED (SMAU)
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pairing: lewis hamilton x singer!reader
summary: you and Lewis Hamilton keep getting spotted together...which could mean nothing.
warnings: none! faceclaim: Raye :) 
➤ MASTERLIST
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Liked by zendaya, lewishamilton, and 2,007,841 others
yourusername my first MET! Such an honour <3
↳ lewishamilton killing it, as always
↳ yourusername couldn't even go one event without photobombing me 🙄
↳ brocedes their friendship is so wholesome!!
↳ fan92 gorgeous gorgeous girl
↳ fan44 like it's unreal
↳ f1-fanatic lewis really can't go a day without talking about @/yourusername, huh? 
liked by yourusername
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f1gossip Lewis Hamilton was spotted out and about with friends in New York after the MET Gala this weekend!
↳ carcarcar look who it is 👀 
↳ fan44 first MET Gala crumbs, and now this??
↳ fan920 people can just be friends (please @/yourusername I can't compete with Lewis) 
↳ fan44 they're always spotted together, at this point they have to be paying the paparazzi or something
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mercedesamgf1 some familiar faces joining us in the paddock today!
↳ yourusername thank you so much for having me and letting me meet Alicia Keys 🙏
↳ fan12 future collaboration in the works??
↳ yourusername I WISH
↳ mclar_win I love that @/yourusername is just lurking off to the side, like why not take a photo with her??
↳ fan294 lewis couldn't afford the photo-op 🥱 liked by yourusername
↳ fan2 Lewis and @/yourusername?? together?? again?? shocking
↳ f1-fanatic are they dating?
↳ fan66 who knows at this point 
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Liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 2,021,181 others
yourusername nothing wrong with a little greenery 🍃
↳ fan44 Lewis and the Mercedes account lurking
↳ fan533 ur so hot its crazy
↳ carcarcar ROSCOE????
↳ f1-fanatic my reaction exactly
↳ fan92 marry me?? please?? 
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Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others
gqsports Ever wonder what it's like to be an F1 driver? Lewis Hamilton answers some of your burning questions in our latest interview, including what he does on the days that his dog, Roscoe, can't join him! Video up now, link in bio.
↳ brocedes Lewis has dogsitters all over the world, apparently
↳ fan92 "friend in New York" just say @/yourusername
↳ f1-fanatic we all saw the post
↳ fan533 admit you're both in love with each other already, this is getting ridiculous
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Liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc, and others
lewishamilton Red's been looking good on me lately
↳ carcarcar THE HARD LAUNCH WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR
↳ fan66 I can't believe it
↳ mclar_win finally! Congrats to you both 
↳ yourusername ❤️❤️❤️
↳ lewishamilton 🌹
↳ fan533 his Ferrari phase is going to be so good...@/yourusername in Ferrari red? Even better
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Liked by lewishamilton, lando, and 2,430,021 others
yourusername happy 2 year anniversary, mr. heart eyes hamilton
↳ mclar_win TWO YEARS?!?!
↳ fan533 how did you hide a relationship THAT LONG?
↳ yourusername we're masterminds, obviously
↳ f1-fanatic okay taylor swift liked by lewishamilton
↳ lewishamilton trying out a new nickname?
↳ yourusername you've always been heart eyes hamilton to me, baby
↳ georgerussell63 do you know how hard this was to keep a secret??
↳ lando you told everyone in the paddock two days after you found out
↳ yourusername GEORGE??
↳ georgerussell63 snitch
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a/n: if lewis hamilton and raye start dating? I called it, folks
540 notes ¡ View notes
ozzgin ¡ 2 months ago
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Welcome to the first round of Monster Dating, where five creatures compete in order to become your forever mate! For our Valentine's Day special - and given the festive occasion - we won't have anyone eliminated...yet. You can, however, vote your favorite of the round, which earns you a special date with the winner.
Get to know the participants in this little introductory round.
[Monster Dating Show Series] | [Participants Intro & Art]
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Participant A: Exes? I couldn't care less about other monsters. I don't know, I guess I'd ghost them, or something? Look at me, I can just vanish the hell out of there.
[The camera zooms in, giving the audience a closer view of the pair of pants sitting on the chair. From the pocket, a small keychain dangles outwards: Human fucker for life.]
Mr. Host: Say, you're a bit of a human weeb, aren't you?
[The invisible hands are shoved inside the pockets, and the participant's chair groans lightly]
You: ...A what?
Participant A: I can't tell if you're trying to mock me with that kind of wording, but I'll let you know I'm a proud human fucker indeed! Why else would I be here? My beep only goes up for those sweet, little furless creatures.
[You look at the camera with an awkward smile as Mr. Host shuffles his papers and whispers another lecture about obscenities and lawsuits]
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Participant B: How I deal with exes? Oh, I just devour them, really. How else would I maintain this?
[She leans sideways in her chair, pinching her plump thigh to prove her point. Mr. Host gestures at the cameraman to wipe the drool and zoom back out already]
Participant B: But you don't have to worry about that, (Y/N) darling. I'd never eat you! Well, not in the literal sense, anyway. [she glances down at your groin and smirks]
Mr. Host: Hey hey hey, behave yourself! [he snaps his fingers in front of the demoness]
Participant B: Of course! I wouldn't just jump out of my seat and actually act on it. Who do you take me for?
[After a short pause, she lunges at you, and you both tumble to the floor. Mr. Host begins screaming about etiquette, waving his arm at the camera crew and signaling for an ad break]
[The screen plays an advert about the latest flavor of monstrous instant noodles: Hellish Fires]
[Minutes pass. The channel finally switches back to live. You're sitting in your chair, legs squeezed shut and face flushed red. The succubus stares ahead with a smile and wet, glistening lips. Mr. Host is checking the remaining questions with a defeated expression]
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Participant C: Oh, well...To be honest, I've never actually...
[The drider begins to fidget, avoiding the camera. You place a hand on his arthropod appendage]
Mr. Host: Right, you spent most of your life collared up, eh? Is that your thing, or...
Participant C: I didn't really...have a choice. [he scratches his cheek, searching for words] Anyways, I guess I'd-...Hmmm...strange. I can only picture myself as the ex. Which is probably the most realistic scenario. I mean, look at everyone else. What am I even doing here? I don't have any special powers - have I mentioned I can only create barriers? - and I'm rather plain-looking. You'd probably break up with me. Would I accept that? Sure. What else could I do? Don't get me wrong, I'd never move on. I'd mop around for the rest of my life, miserable and alone... [he continues rambling about his misfortunes]
[Mr. Host frowns at the camera crew, tapping his pen against the stack of papers. This guy's a special kind of pathetic, he thinks with pursed lips. Should they cut his interview short? No, not yet. There's some charm to it, after all. It'll tickle the sympathy of the audience. Poor, sweet boy, they'll think with shy tears. Hell, they might even watch merely out of pity! One can almost discern the dollar signs reflecting in the gorgon's eyes]
Mr. Host: Fantastic thing you got going there, boy! Save some of the sob stories for the later rounds, though.
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Participant D: ...A what?
Mr. Host: You know, an ex-partner. Someone you're no longer dating.
[His screen goes black, and the eldritch creature begins computing]
Participant D: I'm afraid I've never 'dated' anyone. I have only existed within the void.
[A moment of silence. You glance at the camera, and Mr. Host flips through his pages. Clearly this wasn't part of the plan]
Mr. Host: Alright, let's put it this way; if you had a partner, and you broke up-
Participant D: Nonsense.
Mr. Host: Excuse me?
Participant D: I would not engage in any kind of courting unless I was certain of our compatibility. There would be no break up. [the TV head turns towards you, glitching eyes multiplying on the old screen] Rest assured, my dear (Y/N); I am not here out of some whim or mere desire. I have determined, with statistical accuracy, that we are fated to be together.
Mr. Host: A lot of confident contenders here, huh? We'll see how your math does in the next rounds, my man!
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Participant E: What a puerile kind of question. Is this how you plan to gain viewers?
Mr. Host [visibly annoyed and insulted]: It's a preliminary round, boy. The audience - well, (Y/N), I mean - needs to know you, build some rapport with you! Are you to be trusted? Do you keep your previous partners around? These things matter, you know.
Participant E: Complete fodder. [he sighs, then leans back] I don't waste my time with romance. There's no "exes" to be had. [he looks at you with a determined gleam] So don't bother worrying; once you're mine, there's nothing coming in between.
[You turn away from the camera, a faint blush on your face]
Mr. Host: Now wait a moment, no time for romance? Why the hell are you here, then? It seems to me that the human is some sort of treasure to be won and displayed, the way you put it.
[Mr. Host leans into his microphone and whispers something. The audio team plays a fake track of people gasping in shock]
Participant E: Call it however you want, it doesn't change the fact I'll win this foolish game. [he crosses his arms, unbothered] Mark my words, human. There's no one better than me here.
[Mr. Host opens his mouth to speak, but reconsiders it. He glances at the camera mischievously. Should he tell the proud naga that there won't be any battles, just 'foolish games'? No, he'll realize it himself very soon...]
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Special Guest: If you ask me, there's no place for friendship once it's over. I go for a clean cut!
Mr. Host: I see your point. What if you meet them spontaneously, though? Say...on the street, out in the world.
Special Guest: Huh? No, I don't keep them around. Why would someone else take them?
[The mantis creature considers the question again, then looks at you sheepishly]
Special Guest: Unless you want to have them?
You [shuffling in your seat]: Y-Your exes?
Special Guest: Their heads. Oh, I'm sorry, perhaps I wasn't clear; I behead them. I could offer them to you as trophies, if you'd like.
[Your hand involuntarily wraps around your throat, protectively]
You: No, thank you.
[The mantis lifts a bladed arm, demonstrating a swing]
Special Guest: Well, if you ever need me to take care of a pesky partner...Not to brag, but I'm the best when it comes to keeping it spotless and quick. [he grins at you flirtatiously]
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901 notes ¡ View notes
rosygaze ¡ 2 months ago
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help wanted!
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pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader
summary: it’s your first day at your new job and a certain cocky blonde helps you out.
word count: 2.2k+
note: not me getting attracted to a blonde man 😔 the f4 trailer kickstarted my mcu hyperfixation again so i had to get this out of my system. might be the start of a lil series of one shots based on this pairing 🤭 also i ignore the fact that joseph wears blue contacts for this. i simply do not accept baby cow eye erasure 🙂‍↔️
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“You got this. You got this.” You whispered to yourself in the comfort of your car.
Job hunting was going poorly and you were getting desperate when you saw the ad on the paper. An assistant job. That didn’t seem too hard. Get some coffees, organize files, schedule meetings. You could do that.
What you couldn’t do was freaking rocket science. You could just imagine the look on your face when your potential new boss told you that you’d be working with her at the space center. Why didn’t you read the fine print before going to this interview? She was kind enough not to laugh in your face when you explained that you didn’t have any experience in that field. She just gave you a kind smile and moved onto the next question.
You thought that was it. You blew it. But a few days later, you received a call to let you know that you got the job and that they'd be sending you an information packet soon. You might’ve squealed into the poor receiver’s ear.
Now, here you were in your car, bouncing your leg anxiously and staring at the giant facility that housed rocket ships. You sighed and flicked through the folder in your lap.
After going through everything for the fourth time this morning, your watch read 20 to 9. That seemed early enough to look competent, but not too eager. Another deep breath and you stepped out of your car. You slung your bag over your shoulder and clutched your folder to your chest like a lifeline.
A loud screech made you jump. Your head snapped towards the sound and saw a bright red convertible pulling into the parking lot. A cloud of dust trailed behind it as it pulled into the spot across you. Your curiosity was piqued.
Only the back of the driver’s blonde head faced you so you couldn't make out his face. He adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked at his reflection through a stylish pair of sunglasses. The stranger ran his hand through his hair, and it fell perfectly back in place.
You knew you should get inside but you couldn’t help but stare a little longer. That backfired on you when he peered over the tops of his glasses and you saw big brown eyes looking straight at you, corners crinkled in amusement. The driver killed the engine and you held your breath. He opened the door and long legs stretched out of the flashy car.
He wore nice shoes, khaki trousers, and a well-fitting blue dress shirt. You trailed your eyes further up and saw that he took off the glasses, placing them on top of his perfect hair.
He was handsome.
“Hi.” He called out and looked you over, lingering on your legs. Your fingers reached down to the hem of your skirt and pulled it down ever slightly.
“H-hello.” You stammered and scurried off towards the building. Mentally, you were hitting yourself for stuttering.
“Hey, wait!” You didn’t stop. Gravel cracked behind you and you made the mistake of turning around. You saw him running after you, catching up immediately. “You new here?”
You nodded. “First day.”
“Figured.” He sped up a little until he was a couple of steps ahead of you. He started walking backwards so you could see the devilish smile he put on. “Would’ve definitely remembered you.”
You nearly tripped over your heels.
And he clearly noticed.
“I’m Johnny.” He stopped and held a hand out for you. You hesitated before slipping your hand in his. You gave him your name and tried not to notice how nice his calloused hand fit in yours. “Pretty.”
A warm flush came over your body. You had to get inside quick. “It was nice to meet you, but I have to get going.”
“Which department are you in? Maybe I can give you a tour.”
“That’s very kind but, I know where to go.” You waved your folder in front of him. You didn’t know where you were going but you had a feeling that the longer you spent around him, the more you’d embarrass yourself. The door handle was just inches away from your grip but Johnny beat you to it.
“Sure, but I’m much better to look at than a boring piece of paper. More fun too.” He shrugged, putting his weight on the handle. You tried not to notice how the muscles under his shirt shifted.
“I'll take my chances with the paper.” You scoffed.
Johnny pouted and put a hand to his chest. “You wound me, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes and managed to squeeze your hand in the space between Johnny’s arm. Just barely able to grip the cool metal, you pushed the door open and he pretended to fall inside. You couldn’t even try to hide the silly smile on your lips when you walked past him. The lady behind the front desk looked up at you with an annoyed expression. You faltered in your step.
“Be brave.” Johnny whispered in your ear. You glared at him and he gave you a wink in return.
“Good morning.” You said with a bright smile. The receptionist didn't greet you back. She just gave you another withering stare. “It's my first day and I was told to get my badge here.” You continued.
“Name?” She snapped. You told her, a little taken aback by her tone. She slammed a piece of plastic on the counter and slid it towards you. “You know where to go?”
“Uh-“
She sighed, exasperatedly. “Take the elevator to the right down to basement 3. Turn right down the hallway, take two rights, one left, and it’s the 5th door on your left. Got that?”
“I-“
“I’ve got her, Marge.” Johnny popped up beside you, a thousand-watt smile on yet again. “You have a day as beautiful as you.”
‘Marge’ made a disgruntled sound, looking less than pleased. She gave him a withering look and went back to her work. You shuffled after Johnny to escape Marge's wrath.
“Bet you wish you took up my offer now, huh?” Johnny hit the button to call the elevator.
“Is she always like that?” You kept your voice low in case she could still hear you.
“Yup, haven’t managed to crack her yet but, trust me, it’ll happen one day.” He held up a finger and looked far away, dramatically. Silly. You thought. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Johnny put a hand on the frame and gestured for you to go in. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“Do you remember how many turns you have to take?” He raised a brow. You paused for a second too long. He chuckled at your hesitation. “I’m going that way anyways. It’s no problem.”
You wanted to turn him down again but you knew you would just get lost and be late on your first day. Having someone who knew this place to show you the way would be the most logical decision.
Plus, you were slowly learning that you liked brown eyes.
“Okay.” You went inside first and Johnny followed. He pressed ‘B3’ and the doors closed. Your nerves settled in again once the elevator rumbled as it descended down. You tapped a finger against the folder. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Johnny’s gaze burning in the side of your head. You turned and saw him leaning against the wall, studying you. “What?”
“You nervous?” He nodded towards your finger.
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“Me.” Johnny cocked his head. You shook your head incredulously. “You know who you’re gonna be working for?”
“Susan Storm.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You narrowed your eyes. “You know her?”
“I do.” He crossed his arms. “What are you gonna do for her?”
“I’m her new assistant. I don’t really know what to expect.” You sighed.
“You’ll be fine. She’s nice, really.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Johnny held the door open for you again and let you go out first.
“Are you sure? I only met her once during the interview.” You followed Johnny’s lead as he took you through the maze of your new office.
“Positive. She’s a bit of a hard ass sometimes but she’s one of the smartest people I know so she has a right to be. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d never let me live it down.” Johnny’s hand hovered over your upper back to guide you to turn right when you were about to turn left. “So if she chose you, you must be someone special. I wouldn’t worry.”
“That actually makes me feel a bit better.” Johnny gave you a reassuring smile and you noticed your fingers weren’t fidgeting anymore. “What do you do here?”
“I’m a pilot.” He said, nonchalantly, but you noticed his chest puffed out just a tad.
Your eyebrows shot up. “A pilot?”
“Impressed?” Johnny’s smile turned into a smirk.
“Trying not to be.” You teased but you genuinely were.
“Once you see my skills, you won’t be able to resist.” Innuendo dripped off his words and he looked way too pleased with himself. Johnny led you through two more turns and presented you with an unlabeled door. “Et voila, your new home.”
“Thank you, Johnny.” You said, genuinely. “There’s no way I would’ve found this on my own.”
“No worries.” He leaned against the door and gave you that smile again. The same one that had you tripping over yourself. “But… if you ever wanted to repay your knight in shining armor, maybe you could join me for dinner sometime?”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, not knowing how to respond.
“Johnny!” A voice saved you from your own embarrassment. You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Susan Storm walking towards the two of you. She had a stern look on her face as she stared at the man in front of you. “No flirting with my assistant.”
“I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.” He winked at you.
Susan put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him behind her, standing in between the two of you. Her bright blue eyes turned to you and gave you a warm smile. “Hi, it’s so nice to see you again.” You shook hands.
“It’s nice to see you again too, Ms. Storm.” Her eyes crinkled as her smile reached her eyes.
“Oh, please, call me Sue.” She put her other hand on top of yours and squeezed. Now, you felt stupid for being so nervous. “I see you've met my brother, Jonathan.”
“B-brother?” You looked at Johnny and back at Sue, finally noticing the similarities between the two. Blonde hair, same noses, similar jawlines. Fuck. Were you flirting with your boss’ brother on the first day?
“Younger brother.” Johnny supplied.
“Ah.” You nodded. He was clearly trying not to laugh.
“Hope he wasn’t too much of a bother.” Sue squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.
“He was very helpful actually.” She tilted her head at you and looked back at Johnny, who just shrugged.
“See? I’m helpful.” Johnny told his sister.
“Then go be helpful inside. Ben’s looking for you.” Sue cocked her head in the direction of the room. Johnny rolled his eyes and moved towards the door.
“Fine.” Johnny turned those brown eyes to you again. Something in your stomach fluttered when you locked eyes. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
“Johnny, what did I say!” Sue hit his shoulder.
“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder and stumbled through the door.
“Sorry about that. If he ever makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll hit him again for you. Now, let me show you around.” Sue gestured for you to follow her.
You followed your boss through the door and your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what was inside. Behind the nondescript door was a big hangar. There were computers everywhere and various metal parts in every corner. But the piece de resistance was the rocket ship in the middle of the room. It was as shiny as it was tall. You’d never felt so small in your life.
“Whoa.” Was all you could get out. You craned your neck back to see the pointed tip of the ship.
“Ain’t she a beauty.” Sue sounded proud. “That’s the Marvel-1. Our baby. We’re taking her up to space soon.”
“You are?” You walked further in and saw workers walking around, carrying different parts towards the rocket. Banging and clanging sounds echoed through the big space.
“Mhm. It’ll be a small team. Just me, my husband, Reed, our friend, Ben, and Johnny.”
You couldn’t help but scan the people’s faces, trying to get a glimpse of the blonde again but no dice. Is it weird that you were disappointed?
“That’s amazing.” You looked back up at the rocket. “I’ve never seen a rocket in person before.
“You’ll be seeing a lot of them now.” Sue put a hand on your shoulder. “Now, we have a lot of work to do before that thing is ready to launch and I’ll need your help.”
“You can count on me.” You stood up straight.
“I know I can. That’s why I chose you.” Sue smiled at you. You wanted to prove her right. And most importantly, prove to yourself that you could do this. “Ready to take on your first task?”
You nodded, eagerly.
You got this.
408 notes ¡ View notes
er1nne ¡ 5 months ago
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interviewing drew for queer (do not copy or plagarize, original work)
The buzz of the red carpet was a living thing, pulsing with life as cameras flashed and excited voices carried over the barricades. You adjusted the hem of your pants again, smoothing it over your hips even though it didn’t need it. It was instinct, a way to channel the energy that simmered just beneath your skin. The red carpet was alive with energy, a sea of lights, cameras, and glamour that seemed to stretch endlessly into the night. You stood at your designated spot, microphone in hand, scanning the line of arriving guests with practiced ease. This wasn’t your first premiere, but tonight felt charged with a different kind of anticipation. 
You glanced at the crowd gathered just beyond the velvet ropes. Fans pressed against the barricades, their phones out, waving signs and shouting names. Somewhere behind you, another journalist was calling for their next interviewee, their voice competing with the noise of the evening.
You swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you waited for your next interview. Your grip tightened on the microphone, the smooth surface cool against your palm. You’d done this countless times before, but tonight was different. This wasn’t just any film premiere—it was Queer.
The buzz around the project had been relentless. Raw, intimate, and deeply personal, it had stirred emotions before a single frame had even been released. And now, you were moments away from speaking with one of its stars. Drew Starkey.
You glanced down at your shoes, adjusting your stance and mentally rehearsing your questions one last time. You were prepared. You always were. But there was something about him—something about the way he carried himself, about the way he seemed to pull everyone’s attention with such ease—that made your nerves feel sharper tonight.
When you looked up again, there he was.
He moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, his tall frame cutting a striking figure under the bright lights. The black suit he wore was simple but impeccably tailored, fitting him like it had been made for this moment. His hair was perfectly tousled, the kind of artful mess that looked casual but probably wasn’t.
And then his eyes found yours, they locked on you like a spotlight, and for a moment, the noise of the red carpet seemed to fade. The corners of his mouth lifted into a small, easy smile, and before you could fully process it, he was in front of you.
“Hi, Drew,” you greeted, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. “Welcome. How does it feel to be here tonight?”
His smile widened as he slid his hands into his pockets, his posture relaxed but not careless. “It feels… surreal,” he said, his voice warm and measured. “Exciting, overwhelming, maybe a little nerve-wracking.”
His voice was low and even, carrying a weight that made you lean in slightly.
“Nerve-wracking?” You raised a brow, tilting your head slightly. “I find that hard to believe.”
“That’s the trick,” he replied, leaning in just slightly. His voice dropped, soft enough that only you could hear over the noise around you. “Pretend you’re calm long enough, and eventually, people start to believe it.”
“That’s a powerful way to put it,” you said. “Queer has been described as raw, vulnerable, and deeply human. What drew you to this project?”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as though searching for the right words. “It’s a story that matters,” he said finally. “It’s not just about one experience—it’s about the universal truths that connect all of us. Identity, love, loss, finding your place in the world. It’s messy, and it’s beautiful, and it’s real.”
The way he spoke, so deliberate and thoughtful, made your chest tighten. This wasn’t just another press soundbite—it was personal.
“And your character,” you pressed gently, “what was it like stepping into his shoes?”
Drew’s lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was something introspective in his expression. “Challenging,” he admitted. “And not just because of the emotional depth. It forced me to confront parts of myself I hadn’t looked at in a while. That’s what great stories do—they reflect you back at yourself.”
You nodded, his words resonating in a way you hadn’t expected. The noise of the red carpet faded further as the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.
“What do you hope audiences take away from it?”
He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he considered your question. “I hope they see themselves in it,” he said. “Even in the parts that feel uncomfortable. Especially in those parts. Because that’s where growth happens.”
The sincerity in his voice sent a ripple through you, and for a moment, you forgot the cameras, the crowd, the lights. It was just Drew, standing in front of you, baring a part of himself that felt achingly human. As he spoke, his hand gestured lightly, and for a moment, his fingers hovered near yours—close enough that you felt the faintest hint of warmth. 
“That’s beautifully said,” you replied, your voice softer now.
His eyes held yours for a beat longer, and then his smile returned, lighter this time. “Thanks. You’re making this way too easy, by the way.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Easy?”
“For me,” he clarified, his grin widening. “I usually have to work harder for good questions.”
You laughed, the sound breaking the tension in your chest. “Well, you’re welcome, I guess.”
As the interview wrapped up, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “By the way, you’re good at this.”
The words sent a flicker of warmth through you, and you barely managed a reply before he was gone, disappearing into the next wave of flashing cameras. The warmth of his compliment lingered long after he pulled away, his grin softening as he straightened and offered you a small wave before heading to the next reporter.
Later, as you replayed the conversation in your head, the memory of his gaze lingered most. It wasn’t the kind of look meant to charm or deflect, but one that seemed genuinely curious, as though he were studying you in a way that felt both disarming and personal. The faint warmth of his compliment echoed in your mind, and though you tried to shake it off as professional politeness, a part of you couldn’t ignore the quiet connection you’d felt in that moment. It wasn’t just another interview—it felt like something more.
AN: i can't wait to see queer! love drew to pieces
553 notes ¡ View notes
security-unit ¡ 2 years ago
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I'm a sucker for in-universe fandoms and I can't stop thinking about the idea that murderbot writes sanctuary moon fanfics when it's bored and it becomes in-universe fandom famous not only for good fic writing but also for the batshit insane chapter notes such as "sorry for the late chapter, I got shot again" and "if I told you why this chapter is late you'd be able to find out who I am through the newsfeed, so you shall continue wondering. enjoy"
the readers are going insane questioning how it's still alive. also none of them know who it is. it doesn't have any other online fandom presence linked to its fic account. it never reveals any information that can be used to figure out who it is other than it has a very dangerous job and is augmented in some way.
the name I've been going with as a placeholder is "SecRin" but I am open to username suggestions (considering something related to Eden so one of Tapan & Co can be like "I met someone named Eden once, they were very sad and very competent at security" in the big fandom discussion about who the fuck is this fic writer)
anyways Ratthi likes sanctuary moon. Ratthi reads the fics (before going on The Survey) and gets invested. he only finds out MB is SecRin when MB leaves the note and Ratthi reads it and goes "wait a second" because he recognized the writing style
also like. we can't forget the ART and MB interview.
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like come on.
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