#guest speaker: host

[problematicfactive]

I just want to say thank you for helping us open up about factives. Esp Problematic ones.

We have a Ted Bundy factive and admittingly as a front stuck host i didn't let him front much, i don't hate him, i just let my fear get to me.

But slowly thanks to you and Thundershockz we have been letting go again. Now Ted Bundy fronts a little bit more along with Matthew. He's a gatekeeper and helps with psychosis, and he's became friends with our other factives.

I'm still a learning host, admittingly and embarrassingly a controlling one (accidentally), but i hope we can do better and i hope all factives can exist as themselves one day. I love you problematic and non factives /p

I'm glad that you, Ted, and Matthew have been able to grow. That's what I really want from this space.

Factives-- especially problematic-- being held back by a host who's scared is way too common a story. It's my story too. And I know it's because you're a good person that you did that. You don't want to seem like you liked or you were okay with the things Bundy did, so you try to hide him away.

I know that story. I feel like I've read it a trillion times because I've lived it. In the chapter I'm at now, the hiding hasn't really gone away yet. Luckily, I have enough freedoms now to chose when I want my identity hidden and when I want to openly be myself. It may not sound freeing, but it is. Its so freeing to be allowed to chose for yourself when you want to be yourself.

My advice to Ted: I'm not you. I don't know what it's like to be you and I don't know how things might be harder or easier for you than they are me. There's a Zac Efron portrayal of you. even if that isn't you, i reccomend trying your best to get some sort of connection to him. I know my blog is all about being yourself and being free, but that truly is only when it's safe to do so. When it's unsafe, portraying yourself through Efron can really be your best friend. I think Efron is less recognizable for his role as you as my actor is for his role as me. And through him, you can still have some kind of connection to yourself while staying safe.

To the host, I say there may be times when staying safe means you do have to hold Ted back a little. I don't know what your Ted is like, so I say this as almost an alternative to the "find a safer identity in Efron" thing. I don't say this to "go back on" what I have said in the past about caging alters, but I very commonly have to remind NPC that places may not be as safe for him to speak because he doesn't hide his identity in such places the way I do.

Also, Dont join Revenge /hj

You, Ted and Matthew are more than welcome to join the discord server if you want a completely safe and non judgmental place for Ted and Matthew, I know they're hard to find. Let me know if you're interested and can't find the link

Stay safe.

[tendercoretroglodyke]

have so far staunchly avoided the topic of palestinian apartheid around my 70 year old liberal jewish father (who kibbutz-ed in israel in his young adulthood) and my 66 year old moderate-democrat christian mother but I'm going to visit them tonight and man I don't think I can avoid it forever!! wish me luck...

[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

[smartypantsshow]

🐖👖Now presenting: the trailer for Dropout's new show, Smartypants.

Smartypants brings together the most esteemed, inquisitive, and unhinged “academics” in comedy to ask the questions society is too afraid to ask, like “What is the happiest birthdate?" and "Do vegetables really exist?" Host Rekha Shankar leads an all-star cast to enlighten and inspire viewers in this series premiering April 25th on Dropout.

Featuring guest speakers Paul F. Tompkins, Demi Adejuyigbe, Erika Ishii, Jon Gabrus, Vic Michaelis, Katie Marovitch, Paul Robalino, Mike Trapp, Jacob Wysocki, Jess Ross, Alexis Rhiannon, Ross Bryant, Jacquis Neal, Fumi Abe, Janie Stolar, Kimia Behpoornia, Zach Reino, Raphael Chestang, Ryan Creamer, Anna Garcia, Grant O'Brien, Pallavi Gunalan, Carolyn Page, Patrick McDonald, Brian Bahe, Sara Nahusenay, Cynthia Kao, Carlos Luna, and Tao Yang.

[mariacallous]

Last year, the lead singer of The 1975, Matt Healy, managed to offend a whole lot of Gaelgoirí (Irish speakers) when he appeared to mock a fan’s name – Dervla – at a meet-and-greet.

Healy isn’t alone, though, when it comes to anglophone bafflement at Irish names. A recent study based on an analysis of Google searches revealed the words that British people have the most difficulty pronouncing. The names Aoife, Saoirse, Niamh and Siobhán occupy places in the top 10.

And it’s not exclusively a British problem: I always cringe watching US talkshows where the host quizzes their Irish guest (usually Saoirse Ronan) on the pronunciation of their and other Irish names.

I’ve heard every possible variation of my own name from non-Irish people. It’s not uncommon in Ireland; in secondary school, there were four Niamhs in my class. But I rarely come across an English person who is familiar with it, despite the proximity of our two countries.

In case you don’t know, it’s pronounced “Neev” or “Nee-av”, either is perfectly acceptable. The prefix Ní means “daughter of”. My surname is trickier, and has even tripped up a few Irish people; it can be translated as Herbert, and is pronounced “her-a-vard”.

When I was living in London, I quickly learned that saying Niamh at the counter in a coffee shop or over the phone to make a booking simply wouldn’t fly. This led to the invention of what I call my “Starbucks name”. Anything easily pronounceable with a simple spelling would do. Mia, Sophie and Rose were among my common aliases.

Speaking to others reveals a litany of similar experiences. Aoibhe Ní Shúilleabháin, a designer and teacher, spent two years at college in England having her name mispronounced and disrespected. (Her first name is pronounced “Ay-vah”.) More than one lecturer resorted to calling her “blondie”.

She tells me: “I was asked to say, ‘Three hundred and thirty three trees’” – a tongue-twister that does the rounds on TikTok – “more often than I was asked to repeat my name.” She recalls the lack of interest when she attempted to explain that Irish and English are different languages with different pronunciation rules.

Clearly, the sensitivities at play here are rooted in history: Ireland was colonised by the English and our national language was all but wiped out. A language revival began in earnest in the 19th century, but it’s never quite recovered. Ireland’s most recent census shows that about 40% of Ireland’s population can speak Irish. The English destroyed our language once before, so every little throwaway comment and scoff at our names hurts a little bit more – and ultimately becomes just tiresome. A handful of people even remark, “Oh! I didn’t know Ireland had its own language,” when I tell them about my name.

Writer Darach Ó Séaghdha is all too familiar with these difficulties. (The “rach” in Darach is pronounced like “Bach”, he says.)He hosted a podcast called Motherfoclóir, a podcast about the Irish language and culture, and whenever there were guests on with Irish names, “inevitably the episode would turn into group therapy”. There was one bad experience, he recalls, when he was told that his surname “looked like a wifi password”. But he decided to give his children Irish names, too. It’s a common trend, he says, “because parents with Irish names have been battle-hardened”.

Like the others I spoke to for this piece, writer and director Rioghnach (think “Ree-nock”)Ní Ghrioghair believes that a sense of superiority among English speakers is to blame for the constant mistreatment of Irish names. But she’s defiant. “We are going to scrutinise the British for any transgression regarding the pronunciation of our names,” and other things, she tells me, like British media claiming Irish actors as their own during awards seasons.

There is no easy crash-course I can give to you on the pronunciation of Irish names, but you can always try out “how to pronounce”-style websites (which themselves can be contested). But the simplest and most reliable solution is perhaps just to politely ask an Irish person – and listen attentively to what they say. I may have accepted that English people are very rarely going to get my name right on the first go, but I appreciate a well-intentioned effort. Just don’t laugh at it, please.

[simplyholl]

The Interview

Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.

Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.

"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.

The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.

They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.

The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.

You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.

"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.

Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.

Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.

You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.

Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.

Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.

You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.

Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.

"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.

He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.

"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.

Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.

You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.

Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.

"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.

Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.

Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.

"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.

Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu @justsebstan @kcd15

[elliezlils11utt]

Sorority girl!reader x dealer!ellie

Summary: your crush Ellie walks in on you reapplying lipstick. Alcohol makes u a bit bold & you’ve been at a party drinking. What could go wrong?

Contents: nsfw !! Dom fem!Reader, reader is a sorority girl, marking kink kinda, oral (e receiving !)

Tw: uh weed mention, smut, reader is buzzed.

proofread?: take a guess (please hmu if you wanna proofread my fics bc I need someone to desperately 🙏🏽)

A/n: this sucks fucking ass, and probably is super inaccurate to how actual frat parters r but that’s irrelevant. PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS.😔

Your arms were thrown up into the air, your hips swaying with the motion of the music. The room was hazy and the lights were flashing while your heart pounded with the base of the song.

One of your frat boy friends (Jesse) invited you to a party his fraternity was hosting this weekend. You and your girlfriends rolled up decked head to toe in glitter & Mini skirts.

“Her dee!” You call into the crowd, hoping your friend Dina could hear you over the loud ass speakers. She seems too busy eating jesses face off next to you. You call her name again and finally grab her attention. “I’m going to fix my makeup!” You scream over the music. Dina seems to buzzed to even understand so she just mumbled Somthing and nods before returning to suck her boyfriends face off. You roll your eyes and giggle a little. You make your way through the crowd bumping into people with sleared apologizes along the way.

You take a swig out of the red solo cup in hand before spotting a familiar face in the corner. It was Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams. Your hallway crush ever since you got into college. She was Dinas friend so you saw her around time to time, you just never got the courage to talk to her. She was the known drug dealer around campus so you curated a plan to speak to her today and maybe get her number. (If you were feeling brave) but your makeup came first. You had sweat it all off due to all the dancing and prancing around. You fumbled around the hall looking for the guest room in the overly huge frat house.

The door swings open and you stumble into the room, heading straight to the full body mirror in the corner of the room you sit directly in front of it. Crossing your legs and pulling your lipstick from inside your pocket. You smear the makeup onto your lips, touching up any spots you had missed. The door flys open again & you turn to see who it was. And lo and behold it was Ellie.

“Oh shit, uh sorry. I didn’t now you were in here” her eyes half lidded were shot red.

“It’s chill! I was actually jus about to go looking for you.”

“Oh really? What’s up?”

You stand up and make your way over to Ellie your eyes locking with hers.

“You’re cute” you mumble just a step away from her.

“Oh am I?” She teases & gets closer to you. Shutting the door behind her.

“Mhm.” You hum, an innocent smile tugging at your mouth.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sorority girl” she says, knowing damn well that you are the most gorgeous thing she’s ever laid eyes on. Her bottom lip is pulled in between her mouth. Her teeth tugging the plump skin that you wished was in your own. The tension builds when you could hear your own heartbeat in your throat. Waiting for her to make the first move.

“Fuck it” she murmured before pulling your lips onto her own. Smudging your lipstick all over her face as your so desperately assaulted her lips. Her hands cupped your cheeks, hungrily pulling you closer to you. A soft moan escapes your lips and into hers. You leave your mark down her neck, smearing your red lipstick throughout her collarbones. Your head lands right in front of her clothed cunt. That’s no good. Her jeans are pulled down to her ankles and your eyes find hers. Looking up at her with those doe eyes of yours. Those “innocent” eyes, face to face with her exposed pussy on display. That auburn bush so pretty for you. You kitten lick her pussy, finding her clit almost instantly. A little whimper escapes Ellie’s mouth. The music from the party just outside blaring through the thin walls. “Quiet baby” you coo before pushing your face into her auburn hair. Her hand finds your head when you tongue fuck into her clenching pussy. she tries to suppress her moans as your tongue works at her cunt. you watch as her head flings back, hitting the door behind her with a thud. you giggle before continuing your assault on her pretty little pussy. her hands tangle in your, once tied up, hair. she grinds against your face, completely covering ur face in her juices.

“fuckkkkk- just like that”

her breath starts to get frantic and uneven. her hand shoots up to her mouth quickly covering her moans as she screams into her palm. your arms wrap around her thighs pulling her onto u while she cums. you smirk into her pussy, drinking up her slick. you pull away, and look into her once auburn bush. um, your lipstick dyed it a deep red. actually everywhere your lips went were stained with your makeup. Ellie’s eyes flutter open, finally coming down from her high. you slide her pants back up after placing a final kiss on her clit. you rise meeting Ellie’s eyes. Her face & neck covered in marks of you. Lipstick smeared over her entire face, courtesy of u of course.

“I’d clean up before heading back out. call me.” you say with a wink before leaving her in the room alone.

A/n: this is so sloppy, I need a proofreader. ughbdjsnbdbPKEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS, I WANNA WRITE BUT ION KNOW WHAT TO WRITEEEE. 😔🙏🏽

[leovenuslatina]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒆 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

why/how you became famous?

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

this is the first in my fame series! this series is all about what your life of fame will be like !! enjoy !!

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧ this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

🎀 pile one 🎀

four of cups, page of cups, eight of wands

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

pile one i see you being famous like an over night thing. maybe you post a silly video or something while you’re bored at home and out of nowhere you blow up!When it comes to massing a following, being genuine with a big personality can be an irresistible combination for you. People are drawn to your authenticity, and you are someone that exudes genuine qualities coupled with a larger-than-life personality you’re magnetic. you are refreshing and invigorating to encounter. you are true to yourself and unapologetically embrace your unique qualities. This authenticity shines through in your posts, words, and interactions, creating a sense of trustworthiness that undoubtedly attracts others. A big personality adds another layer of charm as it infuses excitement and enthusiasm into every moment. People are naturally captivated by you who radiates positive energy and have the ability to bring joy into everyone’s life. Ultimately, it is this winning combination of genuineness and a big personality that draws people in and makes them love you so much. Suddenly, your follower count skyrockets, and notifications flood in from people all over the world. It's surreal, to say the least. Comments pour in praising your humor or admiring your beauty. Your inbox is flooded with messages from brands wanting to collaborate. From being an ordinary user scrolling through memes and cat videos, now everyone wants a piece of you - interviews, guest appearances, sponsorships - it seems endless.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ extra ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

boredom

disappointment

re-evaluate

announcement

birth

good news

hasty action

motion

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡

🎀 pile two 🎀

two of swords, ace of pentacles, ten of wands

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

you’re famous pile two because of what you say and what you talk about what you say and the things you talk about really resonates with others! you may be a motivational speaker or writer someone who really gets to people deeply with just your words. i see you a lot in the spot light and on like red carpets in fancy dress and dripping in diamonds. you have a beautiful smile so you might be funny or a comiden actor/actress. pile 2 people are so obsessed with your mind i don’t know what it is about but the way you think is remarkable to others. you’re constantly pulling people in with your opinions on whatever topic . you could be a talk show host ! giving wendy but better. you’re so welcoming and sun shining all over everyone who is a fan of yours. pile 2 if or when you become famous your recognition and success will be extremely abundant ! you’ll be so well loved and very well known.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ extra ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

balance, bambi, deer 🦌, red, red carpets, peace of mind, cameras, emotional stability , finical, gain , luck , talk shows , recognition, success

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡

🎀 pile three 🎀

seven of cups, temperance, the tower

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

pile 3 you’re famous for something you’ve always wanted to do something you’ve dreamt of doing for your whole life. this career is something you definitely manifested. this maybe something you wanted to do ever since you little. i’m seeing your inner child guiding you to this career. you’re famous because your life is inspiring! people see how hard you work and have been and all you’ve been through. people from all over are drawn to you because of you being so true to yourself and not ashamed to be who you really are. you may become a actress i see you might have a flare for the dramatics and or performing on a sort of broadway stage. you become famous pile 3 because you’re a very ambitious person who goes after any and everything you want.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ extra ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

dreams and ambitions , stars ⭐️ , inner self, capable, control, dramatic change, new start, blue,

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡

🎀 pile four 🎀

the well, three of pentacles, eight of pentacles

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

you’re definitely an artist !! you’re extremely comfortable with your medium whatever it is painting or music or whatever you make your art with your extremely skilled ! whatever it is that you create resonates will millions. and you’re praised heavily for your incredible art work. everyone is so impressed how you can be so skilled you are at such a young age. people are truly amazed by your talent. if you’re an artist can see your artwork being displayed in huge museums in from of crowds of people. i see opportunities falling right into your lap so if you do desire fame and fortune simply remain indulgent in you passions that will lead you to true happiness

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ extra ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

nurturing

opportunities

creative

excellence

satisfaction

mastery

success

teamwork

purpose

new skills

apprentice

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡

[maxsimagination]

𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲- 𝗮.𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘀

warnings: smut. based in 2021.

18+ under the cut

-----

ballon d'or.

the highest honour in the world of football.

the awards ceremony was being held tonight, and the highest names in the leagues were going to be there - male and female. i was over the moon that i had been nominated, i would have been happy with just an invitation to view the celebration.

nominated from the barcelona women's team there was me, alexia, jenni, irene and sandra. mapi was also attending but she hadn't been nominated, only invited.

i had a gut feeling that i hadn't come first, normally the winners were made aware at least 10 hours before the actual ceremony. since i hadn't heard anything and we were en route to the venue, it was my natural assumption.

the girls were all chatting in the limousine that the barcelona staff had hired out. i was sat next to mapi and irene. the latter was talking my ear off about how cool the night is going to be, even if none of us won.

i was by far one the youngest players to be nominated this year, only 20 years old, but turning 21 in the next couple of months.

we pulled up to the event just then, and all six of us exited the car, following the men in suits that guided us. one by one, we all walked onto the red carpet, had a couple of pictures taken, along with a group one of everyone form barcelona femeni. finally the photos were over with and we could head inside to sit down.

the crowd that was already sitting in the massive ceremony hall was insane. most of the left side was already filled up and the right side had a couple of people lingering around it. we took our seats and i let out a sigh of relief. it wasn't that i didn't like these things, i just hated the heels i was wearing.

"you okay, chica?"

i heard a voice i knew to be alexia's from my left and i turned to her with a tired smile.

"sí, just tired. and my feet hurt."

she laughed at that, patting my clothed thigh.

"i can give you a massage when we get home, cariño."

she squeezed my thigh as she whispered in my ear, her voice turning gravelly. it was insanely hot.

"ale..."

my voice held a warning; we were in public and on live tv, she shouldn't do this here.

"y/n... you know i love that dress on you."

i was wearing a plain black dress but it was halter neck with a low back and two slits, one on each leg. i blushed hard at her words, feeling the shivers travel through my body.

finally the ceremony got underway, all the long-winded speeches and guest speakers.

it felt like a million years had passed before the actual awards were being held up. the men's awards came first, of course, then the women's. all the nominees were told to stand and wait backstage so they could all walk out on stage when they were called.

that meant all of our group but mapi had to get up. i gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before getting up and walking off.

alexia was behind me the entire time, and when we were safely out of eyesight, i felt her hand on the small of my back, dangerously close to slipping under the fabric. and she did, her fingers dipped under the waistband to latch onto the minuscule thong i had worn underneath the dress.

"oh, bebita... so naughty."

she leant down and whispered in my ear. i tensed up before one of the backstage directors called out for all of us women to get into the directed positions. that meant alexia and i had to split up.

when our names were called out we walk out. the nerves were still buzzing around inside me, and it got worse when i didn't hear my name called for the first few people.

i had almost automatically assumed i'd be near the bottom, being so young and what some would called 'inexperienced'. so you can imagine my surprise when i was called as 4th overall. my jaw dropped to the floor for a split second before i remembered to walk out.

then when all the other players were called as well, the hosts called a guest speaker to announce the winner.

"and the winner of the ballon d'or feminin 2021 is... alexia putellas!" cheers erupted throughout the hall and i had the largest smile on my face as alexia walked out to collect the award. she thanked the speaker before turning to the crowd and holding up the golden ball for everyone to see.

alexia putellas, my teammate, my captain, my girlfriend, had won the ballon d'or.

——

it was almost half past ten when we arrived home after the ceremony. choosing to forgo the barcelona 'after party', alexia drove us straight to her apartment. the car ride was silent but in a comfortable way. i knew she wouldn't let me off the hook for the thong i'd worn tonight, so i was waiting until she said something.

when we got in the door, she walked straight to the bedroom, clearly expecting me to follow her. i quickly took my heels off and followed her. the second i stepped in the door, she was on me. her lips on mine, and her hands travelling to my ass.

"you have no clue what you do to me."

she breathed out heavily when we broke apart. i was just as breathless, my cheeks flushed red.

"ale, please."

she smirked before unzipping her dress, and telling me to take mine off too. i unclipped mine and let it fall to the floor. the moment i turned around i was in for a surprise.

alexia had somehow taken both her dress and underwear off in record time, and was standing facing me while securing our favourite strap. my eyes widened and i could myself getting more excited. alexia moved to the bed and laid down.

"let's warm you up, yea? you're gonna sit on my face."

i crawled up to her where her head was and swung my leg over. i sunk down on her and her mouth immediately latched onto my clit. i moaned at the contact, falling forward and having to steady myself with a hand on the headboard.

her mouth was working wonders, licking, sucking, biting, and bringing me closer and closer to my first orgasm of the night.

"ale, ale i'm close."

she didn't falter in her ministrations, just kept working her tongue on my clit. and just like that i fell over the edge, spasming and letting go all over alexia's face.

she licked one last stripe from my pulsing hole to my swollen clit before lifting me off her face and switching us.

"gonna need you on your knees, bebita."

i had an idea of where this was going and i was scrambling to get into position. alexia was stood behind me, her hand resting on my waist while i waited patiently. suddenly i felt the tip of her strap slide through my folds, before pushing into me. she took it slowly, letting me adjust to the size and setting a steady pace.

it was a delicious feeling, the way her cock slid in and out, filling me up before pulling out, only to push back in again. i let out a moan, and pushed my ass back to meet alexia's thrusts.

"needy girl, are you?"

"need it faster, please capitana."

the rank slipped out of my mouth without a thought. i could feel alexia's hand tighten her grip on my waist before her thrusts quickened.

i arched my back so my chest and face were resting on the bed and my ass was pushed up, on full display. still pushing back to meet alexia's thrusts again. my hand trailed down to my clit, desperate for some sort of friction. i was so close, i could feel it.

i started rubbing on the bundle of nerves harder, faster. my hole was clenching around alexia's cock faster now, i was right on the edge.

"ale, capitana, please. can i cum?"

"yes bebita, cum for me. cum all over my cock."

that was all the time i needed as i let go for the second time that night, dripping all over alexia's strap. alexia slowed down her thrusts and fucked me through my orgasm, then slowly pulling out and discarding the strap somewhere so she could clean up later.

"are you okay, cariño?"

i nodded, eyes closed, just soaking in the fucked-out bliss i was in.

"words, y/n."

alexia chuckled.

"that was the best sex ever."

i breathed out with a smile, opening my eyes and looking up into alexia's green orbs.

[itgetsbetterproject]

We're hosting an LGBTQ+ Career Day for queer youth! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

LGBTQ+ youth need to see themselves represented - not just on TV and in film but in IRL places and spaces too! So we're hosting our first public LGBTQ+ career day, where they can meet professionals from various fields. It's totally free AND it's virtual, so you can join from anywhere!

It's happening Wednesday, May 29 at 7pm ET/4pm PT on Zoom - you can register here for free to get access!

Our guest speakers include:

🟣 Bruno (He/She) - It Gets Better Perú’s Deputy Director

🟣 DataDave - Twitch streamer, professor, voice actor and a current It Gets Better Twitch Ambassador

🟣 Michael Yichao - Cofounder and Chief Creative Officer at Jam & Tea

🟣 Corrie Locke-Hardy (she/they) - Author & Owner of Tiny Activist

🟣 Michael Lemus (He/Him) - Founder and CEO of Reclaiming Your Happiness with Lemus LLC and current It Gets Better TikTok Creator

🟣 Kavi Deo (They/Them) - Senior Development Coordinator at It Gets Better

Hope we see y'all there!

[problematicfactive]

Culture of hosting a problematic factive is allowing them to engage in the (fictional!) media they want to engage in even if you don't really get it

-Host

[the-californicationist]

For send an author a gif

Alternatively/additionally

😘

oh duck. im so sorry. this is... unhinged. 😅

MDNI

Keychain

“C’mon, babes. These blokes were cute. Val knows them. Said they’re nice… enough,” your best friend, Poppy, made a teasing face, sticking out her tongue at you before getting serious, “How long’s it been?”

You sighed, picking at your chipped nail polish, 

“...six…”

“Six weeks!?” Poppy panicked in earnest.

“...months.”

“Six months. Are you —” she snatched your hand and dragged you to your feet, “Enough. Dry spell over.”

You found yourself arm in arm with Poppy, dodging raindrops and puddles on your way to her coworker’s flat, screaming and laughing so hard your lungs hurt, soaking in the cold downpour. There was a big party happening at her place that night. A key party. It was something she had picked up at uni. Everyone’s keys went into a bowl, and whomever’s keys you ended up with was who you went home with. 

You followed Poppy into the alley, hiding under the awning as she buzzed up. 

A crackled voice came through the grimey box,

“Yeah?”

“It’s Pops! Let us in, you slag!”

Giddy screaming came through on the speaker and you heard the door click. Up you went, trodding four flights of stairs, panting and dripping at the top. The front door was wide open and music thumped out of it. A few guests were out in the stairwell, propping the door open to a small balcony, smoking and drinking, crushing their bodies together and swaying to the beat. 

“Pops!” A pretty ginger girl with a teensy tiny triangle top under a fishnet shirt came bounding through the foyer, “Come in! Come in. Name’s Val, nice to meet ya. Give us your keys, Pops. And you, too, new girl. Look at that top!”

She pretended to grab at your breasts which, you had to admit, did look pretty killer tonight. You’d worn a black leather bra top with silver glitter all over it, and you felt like some sort of rock star. A black leather miniskirt completed the ensemble. You couldn’t stomach the heels, so you opted for your combat boots. Val looked like she was about to spill out of that tiny top, but she made it look good.

You handed over your keys, watching your little glittery Bulbasaur keychain bounce around her finger as she twirled them in circles. 

“Which bowl for you?”

“Huh?” You didn’t understand.

She pointed to each one, presenting them to you like she was hosting a game show,

“This one for if you like blokes, this one for if you like birds,” she gave Poppy a wink and tossed her keys in that bowl,  “...and this one for if you don’t care what’s going on downstairs!”

“Oh, um,” you pointed to the last one, “Don’t care either way, really.”

“Perf! Okay, let’s see what you’re drinkin’!”

You followed them through the packed flat and into the kitchen. Liquor and beer bottles littered the countertop, and the only cups left in the cabinet were coffee mugs. You watched Val pull two down and pour some sort of blue drink into each one. She handed them to you with a bright smile, 

“Better go mingle! Never know who might grab your key.”

You smiled, tight-lipped, wondering if you had just made a huge mistake or if you really would be going home with someone nice tonight. 

Either way, you mingled, chatting with a few people, trying to hear them over the noise of the music. But, even in your rock star get-up, you weren’t really the partier that Poppy was. You peeked around the apartment for an escape. The bathroom was locked and, from the sound of it, a couple wasn’t patient enough to wait on their keys to get their night started. 

You checked the next door and found the cloakroom. It was a bedroom slash office, and it was blissfully dark and quiet. You shut the door behind you, sighing with relief and then —

“Havin’ fun, yet?”

A deep, rumbling voice found you in the dark, and you froze. He was sitting in the window sill, smoking a cigar, and he put his hands up in mock-surrender,

“It’s alright, love. Just needed a bit of peace.”

“Yeah,” you said, regaining your composure and straightening your skirt nervously, “No, it’s okay. Sorry, I’ll just… go.”

“Can’t leave without your key,” he laughed, holding up your house key. Your sparkling Bulbasaur glinted in the low light from the window. 

“You… how did you?” You stepped toward him, retrieving your key from his outstretched palm. 

Now that you were closer to him, you get a better look at the man with your key. He was tall. Tall enough to dwarf you even while he was seated in the window. He had a full beard, shaved down the chin like a ship captain, or a pirate, and his eyes were the palest blue you’d ever seen. It was almost supernatural to look into them and be met with his icy stare. 

He was sharp, too. You could tell that he had a quick wit, and an even more capable body. Huge, sculpted muscles pressed through his white tee shirt, tightening the thighs of his jeans. A veritable giant of a man. But when he smiled, just as he was doing now, you felt safe despite his stature. He seemed like he meant you no harm. 

“How do you have my keys?” You asked again, watching as the white smoke billowed and curled out of his full lips, carried away by the night wind. 

“Saw you come in. Couldn’t have some other arsehole picking you first, could I?”

“First?” You stood closer to him still, staring up at him as he rose from his seat, towering over you with his body, darkening the room in shadow.

“Aye,” his hand went to your chin, raising it up as if to have a better look at you, “Bit greedy, me.”

You thought he might kiss you, but just before he leaned close enough for your lips to touch, he took another drag from his cigar, letting you smell the tobacco and licorice scent on his breath, the lingering notes of whiskey not far behind. 

“And you thought you could be greedy with me, is that right?” You whispered, unsure of why you were speaking so low, but he matched your register in his reply, purring his words at you and making your belly twist in on itself,

“I let myself hope so…” You watched as something that seemed like doubt flashed through his gaze, and a primal piece of you hated that.

“Good thing you snagged them, then,” you reassured him, letting your hands roam across his belly, circling around him and testing the waters, “Be a shame if someone else got to me first. Some… arsehole.”

“Careful, love,” he warned you, “You’re too pretty to be teasin’ a poor bloke in that fuckin’ outfit. Does things to us.”

You dragged your hand up his thigh, knowing exactly what things he was mentioning but playing dumb anyway,

“Oh? What… things?”

Quick as a snake’s strike, he snatched your wrist in his free hand and held you steady. It surprised you, and you froze from the shock of his strong grip. Then, your whole body lit up as he slowly moved your palm over to his zipper, behind which was pressed the hardest, fattest cock you’d ever felt in your life. 

“These things.”

He flicked the end of the cigar clean out of the window and grabbed you around the jaw, bringing his face down to yours to kiss you. He was smoke and fire and whiskey and sugar and something musky that could only come from a human’s tongue. His beard scruffled your skin, tickling your lip as you kissed him back. 

He pulled away, his eyes hooded from the pleasure of your kiss, and said,

“I’m John, and I am at your fuckin’ service, pretty girl.”

“Take your shirt off, John,” you nibbled on the bottom of his lip and smiled as sweetly as you could manage.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled back, wolfishly, and peeled his shirt off revealing his immense chest, covered in dense, soft hair. 

You kissed him again, letting your hands touch him wherever you wanted to. You felt his soft nipples harden under your touch, and you stroked the smooth skin of his ribs, tattooed with some sort of skull and shield. In the midst of your lust-filled tour of his torso, he tossed you on the bed, piled high with coats and scarves, shoving them out of the way in a knotted, tangled mess. 

He kissed his way down your body, stopping when he came to the swell of your breasts, chuckling and looking up at you. 

You were already breathing heavy, a little annoyed he’d paused in the middle of something good. 

“What?” You asked.

“You can’t be serious with these. Look,” he twisted a thick finger under the top of your bra’s cup and shoved it down, revealing your nipple as it popped free from its enclosure.

He fixed his mouth over it and began to suck. Then, he popped his lips off of you before sucking hard again, making you whine from the sensation. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. Saw you and these gorgeous tits…” 

Suck. Lick. Suck. 

“...across the whole bloody room…”

Suck. Suck. Suuuuuuuck. 

“...and I had to taste you…”

Suck. Bite. Kiss.

“…had to fuckin’ know.”

You let your fingers peel through his hair, messing up his gel, scratching his scalp, listening to him moan as he groped your breasts, hungry like a rabid dog. 

“And,” you breathed deeply, trying to compose yourself, aiming to tease him further, “Are they what you hoped for?”

He grinned, dropping one hand to unbuckle his belt. Then, you felt his steely length loll and roll against the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fleshy head drool across your skin. John looked down at you then, and returned your question with one of his own,

“What do you think, love?”

With an audacity you were not expecting, he slapped his rod against you, making little popping noises on your skin, opening some sort of feral door deep within your psyche. 

“And then —” John put both of his hands underneath your hips and flipped you over, making you lay on your belly, surprising you with his incredible strength, “I saw this fuckin’ arse. Mmm.”

He raked your skirt up your legs and grabbed two huge handfuls of your cheeks, squeezing them so tightly it almost hurt. Then, he looped his thick forearm under your hips and lifted you up, making you present yourself to him lewdly. 

“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Lemme see you…” He sighed raggedly, “Oh, fuck. Look at these.”

You felt his finger slide between the gusset of your panties and your aching hole, rubbing you up and down, pretending to admire your lace thong.

“These knickers, and this perfect fuckin’ hole.”

All you could do was hang there, draped over his forearm while he bent his head to plant his mouth against your center, doing a lazy job of moving your underwear out of the way, preferring instead to just eat you through them. You felt the warm prod of his tongue as he pushed it against the fabric, writhing it skillfully to get to your insides, licking in long strokes to work your taste into his mouth. 

Your bra was still askew, letting your nipples rub against someone’s faux fur coat, and when you heard the clinking of metal sounds, you peeked over your shoulder to see John fisting his cock while he devoured you. His efforts were messy, and he drooled along your skin, not caring how much of you smeared all over his face. 

“Mmf—”

You let out a whimper, unable to hold back, feeling the pressure of your pleasure mount as he focused on your rim, laving it in deep, circular strokes, bringing you right up to the brink and guiding you back down, torturing you right on the edge of bliss. 

“Yeah? ‘S tha’ good, love?” He teased, releasing his cock to peel the thong off of you and shove his tongue deep into your hole. 

“Ungh! Fuck, fuck, fuh—”

Your whole body tensed, leaving nothing to the imagination about the orgasm he had just wrenched from you. 

“Good girl, that’s it. That’s it.” John talked you through it, speaking with his mouth full, licking you endlessly. 

Then, he flipped you back over, prowling over your body like a beast, grinding his hips into you, asking wordlessly for permission. He kissed you again, letting you taste what he had done and you sighed into his mouth, eager for more. 

You were soft for him, but you still wanted to push him. So, while he was looking down at you, pondering whether or not you’d let him go all the way, you stuck your tongue out, licking him from the bottom of his chin, over his plush lips, and up the tip of his nose.

He smiled and sat back, lazily playing with your breasts, trying to make damn sure you knew what you wanted.

“You want more, love? We can stop when you’ve had enough of me.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you let your knees fall open, pushing your skirt up over your belly, revealing yourself fully to him. Then, you reached between your legs, past your aching hole and found the silky body of his cock. He shivered at your touch, and his hips rolled involuntarily as you began to stroke him, moving your hand back and forth, rocking your hips to add to the effect. 

“Got any protection, John?”

He dug his hands into his pocket frantically and pulled out a condom. Breaking the corner with his teeth, you watched him roll the thin layer over his dick, still eager and willing to serve you. Even though he was in the position of power, the expression on his face made you feel like you held the flog. 

“Fuck me,” he lamented, sitting back on his heels and gently playing at your soft, pliant hole reverently, “You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen — ungh… or felt.”

The moment his fingers touched the inside of your body, his expression changed. It was as if a new part of his mind had woken up and taken over. He was fully in your thrall. You were sure that if you had asked him to leap out of the window, he might comply. 

“C’mon,” you smiled, pulling him closer to you, kissing him softly and then as deeply as you could, breaking away to whisper, “Let me feel you.”  

He reached between your bodies and you felt the wet lick of the lubed condom tip as it teased your hole. Then, the dense, hot pressure of his cockhead. 

“Oh! You’re big,” you breathed. 

John stopped,

“You alright, love?”

You nodded, canting your hips, searching for more of his girth to drag into your waiting core. 

“Tell me,” John commanded, rocking forward a bit more, testing the waters.

“Yes, I need — god, please — I need more. Please.”

“Shh, shh. Here,” he pressed forward again, stretching you out, making your eyes widen from the new sensation, “Here I am. Here…”

He was kissing your neck and breasts, leaving little red marks behind from his strong suckling, licking and nipping at your flesh. You could barely feel it. All your body could concentrate on was the seemingly unending supply of hot, heavy dick he had at his disposal. He just kept moving forward, inch after inch. You thought, at one point, there could be none left, only to have him press just that much deeper. 

By the time his base grinded down against your pubic bone, you had tears in your eyes, and you imagined that you should be able to feel him in your throat. 

You sighed together, and he regained his balance, planting his arms beside you, elbows on each side of your face, covering you protectively. 

“...so damn big. Holy fuck,” you gasped, whispering to him. 

He nuzzled your cheek, a little sweet for how insanely lurid his sex had been, 

“You ready, love?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

He began the long journey back out, and then his thrusting began in earnest. He was a slow fuck, but his girth made every pass a challenge. And he always made sure to bottom out. You could tell that was when he felt the most pleasure. So, you chased him with it. His cock would reach its peak in you, making your skin burn and your eyes roll back in your head, and just as he tried to escape, you would twist your hips to follow him down, making it feel as if you were locked together, unable to pull away from your warm muscles. 

A few of those thrusts and he was breathing hard, fucking you harder, picking up his pace. Then, you opened yourself up for him, spreading your legs to allow his big body easier access to yours.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell. That’s good. You are so fuckin’ good. So good,” he praised you mindlessly, just saying words that floated through his mind. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he would go past the point of no return. So, you ran your hands over his body again, exploring him like you had been when you found him, swirling your fingers over his ribs and plucking softly at his nipples, kissing his neck, not caring if you left a hickey. 

He was grunting and calling for you with every thrust now, his head buried in the crook of your neck, ready to spill himself for you. 

Each strong thrust of his cock was shaking your bones, making your body want to come, twisting your muscles inside of you as a warning of what you were about to release. 

His eyes lit up, finding yours, 

“You gonna come for me, love?”

“Yeah,” you keened, pressing your forehead to his cheekbone, begging him for aid when there was nothing that could save you from being tossed into the deep end. 

“Come for me. Fuck! There! Right there, hngh —”

You saw sparks at the edge of your vision, and your whole body arched against him, reeling with wave after wave of glittering joy. His face was twisted in a snarl, and he stopped breathing, coming with you in your shared ecstasy, his cock pulsing within you through his orgasm. 

Then, he gasped, a smile painted on his face, half in soporific joy and half in disbelief. 

“Fuck…” he said, gently untangling himself from you, letting his fat dick slide out of your wet, well-used hole.

You’d never felt so empty in your whole life, and you cried out from the loss. He heard you, wrapping you up in his arms and keeping you beside him, letting you both catch your breath. 

After a while, long enough for the bass-heavy song to change, he slid out of bed and put himself back together. Just when you thought he would be on his merry way, he took your hand in his and kissed you with more affection than you ever expected. He told you,

“C’mon, love. Grab your keys. I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Oh?” You smiled, pressing your keychain back into his open palm, “You want more?”

“Told you I was greedy.”

[puckinghischier]

Shadow Puppets

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader is terrified of storms, but Nico makes sure she never has to brave them alone

notes: hi!! long time no see! this is a little self indulgent, not gonna lie. i started this last week when some pretty gnarly storms were coming through my town and i struggled finishing it because, surprise, i was scared 🫣. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

[3.3k]

~

Storms have never been something that you enjoyed. You don’t understand the appeal of the angry rumbles and blinding flashes that litter the sky during a thunderstorm.

Ever since you were a little girl storms have been high on your fear list. Anytime you saw the purplish-gray of the sky, you were doing everything in your power to drown out the incoming storm.

Much like you were right now. You had just turned a movie on in the living room, volume high enough that you worried your upstairs neighbors could hear. Every curtain in the apartment was drawn closed, preventing you from seeing any flash of lightning that would dance across the dark sky.

Your last line of defense was usually white noise being played through a speaker on low volume to further try and drown out the rumbles that are starting to sound closer by the second. Well, it will be your last line of defense, if you could just find the wireless speaker.

It wasn’t in its normal spot in the kitchen junk drawer, nor was it in the bathroom. It wasn’t in your boyfriend’s practice bag, knowing he sometimes takes it to the rink with him when he hits the gym after a morning skate.

You had looked in both your bedroom and the spare room, the guest bathroom, the hallway closet, the various shelves around the living room, in-between the couch cushions, and you had even braved stepping out onto your small balcony to search for it before rushing back inside after a particularly bright flash of lightning.

It was nowhere to be found.

While you were on all fours on the floor trying to see if it had somehow rolled under the couch, you heard the familiar chime of your ringtone coming from the table behind you, startling you a bit.

Seeing your boyfriend’s name flash on the screen, you pick up the phone immediately, speaking a small hello into the device just as an especially loud crack of thunder rings out.

“Hey, Schatz. You okay? Just heard the storm outside, knew you were home alone and wanted to check on you during intermission. Got all of your safety nets in place?” Nico’s worried voice hurries out, slightly out of breath.

The Devils were hosting a charity scrimmage tonight, the proceeds going to a local youth hockey program. Nico had offered for you to come and watch, but you had been wanting to catch up on the reality shows he always complained about watching with you. When he left a few hours earlier, the sky was blue and there were no clouds to be seen.

You didn’t regret your decision until thirty minutes ago when your phone started blaring an alarm with a severe storm warning alert.

“Yeah, I’m okay for right now. Have a movie on and the curtains are closed. I can’t find the speaker, though. Do you remember where you last saw it?” you ask him, placing the phone on speaker so you can continue to search.

“Oh Schatz, I’m so sorry,” Nico starts, regret joining the worry in his tone. “I have the speaker with me. Put it in my game bag this morning. Went and got a few reps in the gym in before warm-ups today. I didn’t look at the forecast before I left, I didn’t know you’d need it.”

Your stomach drops at his confession, your anxiety spiking. You needed the speaker in order to fully drown out the thunder. It was something you and your mom had come up with when you were a kid to help you sleep if it was storming at night. You hadn’t tried to get through a storm without the technique since.

“It’s…it’s okay, Neeks. Really. I’ll be fine,” you start, trying to hide the anxious quiver of your voice. “It’s just a little-“ your sentence gets interrupted by a boom of thunder so loud you could feel the vibrations from the floor you were currently kneeled on.

Nico’s guilt only increases at the yelp you let out, his heart breaking further when he hears the whimper you tried to hide afterwards.

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay? I can try to see if Nicole can come over for a bit? Jesper said she stayed home, too. Or I can send someone to come get you and bring you here if you want?” he offers, hating the fact you’re in the apartment alone.

“No, it’s okay. It’ll probably be over by then, anyways, right?” you ask, needing the reassurance that it was only a short storm.

“Yeah, baby, I’m sure it’s almost over. Just turn the tv up and grab your weighted blanket. I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” you squeak out, another low rumble coming from the world outside.

“I love you, okay? I’ll call again to check on you next intermission. Be home before you know it, Schatz.”

“Love you too, Neeks. Play safe,” you tell him before hanging up the phone.

You take his advice and find the weighted blanket he bought you last year after a particularly nasty storm had come through when he was away on a roadie.

He read online that the pressure could help comfort people during anxiety inducing moments, so he had one delivered to your shared apartment the next day. You were extremely thankful for it, especially in moments like this, but nothing can replace having Nico here with you to comfort you during an especially rough storm.

You were trying really hard to focus on the movie, having raised the volume even more to supplement the loss of the noise from the speaker, but the noises from the storm outside only got louder and louder.

You could hear the wind whipping around the tall building you were in, adding a whole new layer to your current distress. Checking your phone constantly, you knew it was still only a severe storm, no further warnings had been issued, but you were starting to get worried the bad weather was here to stay.

Resorting to laying on the couch with eyes closed and hands over your ears to muffle the sounds, your fear had reached its peak. You felt embarrassed, wondering why you couldn’t just find comfort in the harsh weather like a normal person. Instead, you were laying on your couch in a fetal position with your hands covering your ears as a grown woman.

Another intense crack infiltrated your apartment, causing your shaking body to jump, eyes snapping open. Just as you were able to calm your racing heart, you were suddenly covered in darkness.

It felt like someone had just dumped ice water all over your body, every nerve alert with fear. You sat completely still, waiting for the warm lights to flicker back on.

The longer you sat waiting, the worse you felt.

There was no way you could survive this storm with no power. There was nothing to block out the wind and thunder. There was nothing to lessen the bright flashes of light through the curtains. You were so paralyzed by fear you couldn’t even make the short trek to the kitchen to grab a flashlight or light the various candles littered throughout the apartment.

While debating with yourself about if you were going to be brave enough to get up off the couch and walk through the dark apartment, you heard the lock on your front door unlock with a click.

Every movement in your body stopped, including the rise and fall of your chest. You held your breath and sat as still as you could, more petrified with fear than you had ever been before.

Who was coming into your apartment in the middle of a storm like this? The only other people with keys were Nico, Jack, Luke, and your landlord. Three of those people were in the middle of a hockey game twenty minutes away.

A new wave of fear washed over you. What if it was your landlord coming in because he had to evacuate the building? Was the storm that bad? It sounded that bad, but you were always a terrible judge at what classified a storm as bad.

Any storm was bad to you. The slightest rumble of thunder had you wanting to dive under the nearest table like a child.

The door creaked open, squeaky footsteps making their way into your apartment. You continued to lay there, unmoving.

“Schatz? You in here?” you heard a familiar accent call out, all tension in your body disappearing at the sound.

Your body springs up into a sitting position, turning your head to look behind the couch, the sight in front of you almost causing relieved tears to well in your eyes.

Nico stood by the closed door, hanging his dripping jacket on one of the many hooks on the wall in front of him. His soaking wet hair was adding to the puddle on the floor left by his jacket.

He was wearing a pair of athletic shorts and one of his Devils hoodies, the latter only slightly drier than the jacket he had just removed.

He shook out his hair, making you bite back a giggle at how he resembled a dog shaking out its fur, before looking up and seeing your alert eyes peeking over the couch at him.

“Oh, Schatz, are you okay?” he sighed as he made his way over to you.

His socks audibly squished as he rounded the end of the couch, coming to crouch before you.

He took your hands in his own, making you flinch at how cold they were.

Bringing his lips down to blow onto your intertwined hands, he mumbles out a “M’sorry, I wasn’t here, pretty girl.”

You meet his eyes through his wet eyelashes, admiring how pretty he looks right now, brain still catching up to the fact he’s here.

Staring at him while he warms his hands with your own, you remember that he was supposed to still be at the charity game right now, having only called you at the beginning of the first intermission not even thirty minutes ago.

As soon as you open your mouth to question him, you were reminded of the reason for your current state.

A blinding flash of light illuminates the dark apartment, thunder rumbling almost immediately after.

Slamming your eyes shut to try to block the sight, you try to move your hands to your ears once again, but they’re still clutched between both of Nico’s.

You feel the couch next to you sink underneath his body weight, his arms moving to come around your shoulders as he hugs your body into his.

His hand moves up and down your arm in a soothing motion, a small “shhh” coming out of his mouth as his lips rest against your temple.

“You’re safe, darling. You’re alright. I’m here,” he says softly on repeat, working you through the moment of panic.

You allow your body to sink into his, reveling in the comfort that his presence brings you.

“That’s it, just relax. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, alright?”

After several minutes of relishing Nico’s presence, you finally lean back and put a small amount of distance between the two of you.

He moves his hands to smooth down your hair and cup your face, tilting your head up so he can look into your eyes and make sure you’re okay.

As you give him a small smile, he leans forward and places a kiss first on the tip of your nose and then moves his lips up to rest on your forehead.

He pulls back, leaving your face trapped in-between his hands, speaking softly.

“Power went out, didn’t it, Schatz?”

You simply nodded, finding it hard to speak with your cheeks squished.

He starts rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your cheeks, “Scared you when it went out, huh? That why you look so startled when I came in?”

You nodded again, starting to feel a little silly with the chipmunk cheeks he’s caused you to have.

“Well, let’s go fix that, shall we?” Nico finally removes his hands from your face, standing up and reaching his hand out to help you stand from the couch.

He leads you into the kitchen, stopping at the drawer that holds a lighter and flashlights for occasions like this one. He grabs two flashlights out of the drawer, turning one on and handing it to you.

Taking his own flashlight, he turns it on and immediately places it directly under his chin, pulling a face in the shadow of the light coming from the plastic.

His actions cause you to giggle, rolling your eyes at how childish your big, ‘scary’ hockey player can be.

“There she is. Knew I could get that cute little laugh out of you,” he beams, proud of his success.

He grabs the lighter and takes your hand once again, leading you around to every candle you have placed around the apartment. You hold the flashlights as he lights each candle until every last one lit and the apartment is bathed in golden light once again.

The two of you end up back on the couch sharing your weighted blanket as Nico becomes your buffer to the storm outside. You sit with your head resting against his chest for a little while before you remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be here right now.

You raise your head up and sit back, situating yourself so you’re halfway facing him while still being tucked into his side.

“You’re not supposed to be here right now.”

Nico moves his head back and looks at you like you’re crazy.

“What?” he says through a chuckle, amused at how random you words were.

“I mean, you’re supposed to be at the charity game right now. You called me during the first intermission, you should be playing in the third period by now,” you explain your outburst.

Nico laughs, shaking his head. “For a second I got worried you were about to kick me out, Schatz.”

“Nico, I’m being serious,” you roll your eyes. “Why did you leave the game early? Is everything okay at the rink? Did the storm damage something?”

Nico looks over at you, a fond smile on his face.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” is all he says in response, bringing a finger up to stroke from your temple down to your chin.

You move your head away from his hand and scoff, annoyed at his avoidance.

“Nico…” you warn.

He sighs, knowing you’re not going to be happy with his answer.

“I left early.”

“You…left early?” you parrot his words back to him, unimpressed.

“Yes, I left early. I told them there was an emergency here and I needed to get home to you, so I left,” he explains, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was just a charity game, anyways. We were playing against our own guys, not like it was anything they couldn’t do without me.”

You fully remove yourself from him and sit back on your heels. He frowns at the loss of contact as he readjusts himself to sit up straighter.

“Nico, you can’t just leave a game like that!” you scold him. “Think about how excited those kids were to see you play tonight. The fact that it was a charity game should have made it even more important.”

You cross your arms, glaring at him for how bad this could make him look.

“Y/N, you were here, alone, during a raging storm. When I called, I could feel how scared you were through the phone. I knew as soon as the lights flickered at the arena, I couldn’t leave you here by yourself,” he explained, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You argued anyways.

“Nico, think about how bad this could make you look. ‘Devils captain leaves charity game early because his girlfriend is a scaredy-cat and can’t stay by herself during a silly little thunderstorm’” you put on your best sportscaster voice for the last sentence.

It was Nico’s turn to roll his eyes at you, shaking his head at your words.

“First of all, don’t count on a job with ESPN anytime soon,” you swat at his chest. “Second of all, I appreciate your concern about my image and my job, but I don’t care.”

“You should! You should care, Nico. You’re the captain. You need to care more than anyone else,” you cry out at him.

Nico grabs your hands in midair as you wave them around to emphasize your words.

“Schatz, I. Don’t. Care.” He pauses, trying to let the words sink in. “You know why I don’t care? Because you will always come first, do you hear me?”

Your mouth snaps shut, the intensity of the way he’s looking at you making you still.

“My job is just a game. It will always be just a game. A game that I’m thankful that I get to play every day, don’t get me wrong, but at the end of every day, it’s just a game.” He pauses again, making sure you understand him.

You don’t even flinch at the thunder that rings out around you, too caught up in the moment that’s happening between you and Nico right now.

“You, my pretty girl, are not a game. You’re the absolute best thing that has ever, and will ever, happen to me. You’re the biggest priority in my life, not hockey. I could quit hockey tomorrow and be just fine as long as I still have you to come home to every day. You’re the one thing I can’t lose. So yeah, I don’t care if I’m missing a scrimmage right now. They don’t need me. You did. So, here I am, exactly where I’m ‘supposed to be’” he mocks your earlier statement.

By the end of his speech you have tears in your eyes, not because of the storm this time.

You smile at him, an emotional tear slipping down your cheek, Nico’s hand reach out to wipe it away before you could wiggle one of your own from his hold.

“I love you, you know that?” you tell him, leaning your cheek into his open palm. “But you’re still stupid for leaving the game early,” you add at the end.

“Love you more, Schatz. Always.” He responds with a slight chuckle, ignoring the second part of what you said, bringing your face to his.

Your lips meet in a sweet, loving kiss. You rest your foreheads against one another before Nico pulls back, dropping his hand from your face.

“Now, I do believe we have some powerless entertainment to partake in,” he tells you, wiggling his eyebrows at your suggestively.

You lean in towards him once again, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh…Yeah” he leans back in, his hot breath fanning on your face with his words.

You catch his arm moving out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to remove your gaze from his face to find out what he was doing.

The staring contest the two of you had going on was starting to make you squirm when you hear a click ring out from in-between your bodies, light erupting through what little space is there.

You look down to see one of the flashlights from earlier in his hand, a cheeky grin on his face. Looking back up, you give him a confused look.

“It’s time for shadow puppets!” he excitedly bursts, moving the flashlight to shine on the wall, holding up his pointer and middle fingers to make a shadow bunny on the wall.

You burst out into belly laughs, body falling over his, head landing in his lap.

“C’mon, now, get up, its your turn,” he sits you up, handing you the flashlight.

As you look over at Nico, an expectant look on his face, you suddenly don’t care if it storms all night and the power never comes back on. As long as Nico’s with you, nothing could ruin the happiness running through your veins in this moment.

[lnfours]

inclinations (invisible string) | l.n

summary: a story told in two parts: summer and autumn. summer held the whirlwind romance that came crashing down too soon. autumn brought the repercussions of young love and learning how to fall in love all over again.

au: childhood friends to lovers, uni!au

warnings: language, some not so secret pining, moving fast but it’s for the plot, language, fluff, i kinda want what they have.

masterlist | next chapter | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

THE HAMPTONS.

where every rich family spent their summer days by their fancy in ground pools or at the country club. the afternoons consisted of hitting the shops and cafes for some light shopping and brunch with friends.

but night time, that was your favorite time of day. that’s when everyone would hit the town for drinks or the few clubs that lingered, some would even host their own parties at their houses.

and one of those notorious parties would be the ones flo norris would throw. she was known for throwing the best parties in the hampton during the summer. and being her right hand woman, of course you’d always make an appearance.

which is where you were right now, sitting her room as she tried on bikinis. asking for your opinion on each.

“okay,” she said, walking out her closet in a black two piece, one that looked similar to the red one she had on prior, “how’s this one?”

you nodded, looking up from your phone, “i like it,”

“you said that about the others,” she pouted softly, “should i go with the red or this one?”

you twisted your lips in thought before pointing at the black two piece, “that one.”

her phone pinged on the bed and she sighed softly, “who is it?”

you glanced down at the phone. the name illuminating her lockscreen making your heart skip a beat.

“uh, your brother,” you said, picking the phone up.

“what’d he say?”

you clicked on the notification and typed in her passcode before reading the message out loud, “‘let mom and dad know max and i will be at the house in an hour please’.”

“just put the thumbs up on it,” she said and you double tapped the message before clicking on the thumbs up button. you locked her phone, setting it back on the bed as he hopped up next to you.

“you’re nervous,” she said, “why’re you nervous?”

you furrowed your eyebrows at her, “i’m not nervous?”

“you’re a bad liar,” she said, “c’mon! we’ve been friends for how long? i know when you’re lying and when you’re lying about being nervous?”

you swallowed and opened your mouth to speak before closing it. her eyes widened, “oh! is it because of him?”

him, meaning her brother. you knew that too well.

“you know, he’s not seeing anyone, it’s totally your chance,” she said and you laughed softly.

“no, flo-“

“oh come on!” she giggled, “you and i both know that if he wasn’t stupid, you two would practically be married by now.”

you laughed, “i doubt that.”

she sighed, getting up and offering her hands to you, “okay, fine then. no boys tonight. just us and our guests and officially kicking off summer. how about that?”

you sighed and looked up at her, laughing softly as you shook your head and grabbed her hands. you stood in front of her, “okay, deal.”

she smiled, pulling you into a hug, “good! now let’s do this, yeah?”

you nodded, following her down the stairs and through the house you had spent more summers at than your own. you made your way to the backyard, the speakers still playing music and the pool floats she insisted on blowing up earlier this afternoon floating around in the pool.

the night continued on and more and more people ended up showing up. you said hi to the other friends you had made during your summers in the hamptons, catching up with them.

flo raised her champagne glass to you, “cheers to us, and summer,” she smiled, “i missed you.”

you raised your glass and clinked it with hers, “cheers to us. i missed you.”

you both took sips and her eyes grew wide as she spotted someone in the crowd, a smile on her face as she called them over, “max fucking fewtrell is that you?!”

you followed her gaze and spotted the brunette as he made his way over. max fewtrell: lando’s right hand man, his best friend. wherever max was, lando definitely wasn’t far behind.

he smiled as he joined the two of you, giving flo a hug, “what’s up! as always, great party, flo.”

“thanks, max,” she smiled.

you smiled at him as he pulled you into a hug, “hey, y/n,”

“hey,” you smiled, “did you grow since the last time i saw you?”

you teased him and he rolled his eyes playfully, “ha ha, very funny.”

“where’s your other half?” flo asked, “better known as my annoying brother.”

max looked around at the groups of people, “he’s around here somewhere, think he went to go say hi to a few people.”

you both nodded, sitting and catching up with max. after a few more sips from your glass, you looked over at flo, “i’ll be right back.”

she nodded as you got up from your seat, making your way into the house through the crowds of people. on your way inside the house, you felt a hard chest collide with you. you were about to pull back and tell them to watch where they were going until you looked up and saw that stupid necklace.

the same one you had given to him for his sixteenth birthday.

“shit, i’m sorry,” he said and when you pulled away to look up at the man in front of you, it had finally registered, “y/n?”

you smiled, “hey, lan,”

he pulled you into a hug, “god, how’ve you been? it’s been a while.”

you pulled away from the hug, nodding as you brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “i’m good! i’m good, yknow, same shit different day, nothing totally new,” you said and he smiled at you, “how about you? how’s the whole racing thing going?”

he smiled, “it’s going good, actually. i’m just kind of glad to have a break, yknow, spend it here. haven’t been here in a while.”

you nodded, “yeah, guess thats what happens when you get hot and famous.”

he smirked playfully, “so you think i’m hot?”

you rolled your eyes, shoving his arm as you laughed, “you know what i meant!”

his eyes looked over you from head to toe, “i mean, you’re one to talk. when did you grow up?”

you laughed, placing a hand on your hip, “well if you’d come to the hamptons once in a while you’d know.”

“if i knew i was missing out on this, i would’ve put more of an effort to come around.”

you smiled, opening your mouth to speak before you were interrupted, “yo, lando!”

you both turned to look at who was calling his name, spotting max in the doorway, “flo needs your help with something.”

he nodded, “be there in a minute,”

“she said it was urgent.” max said and lando rolled his eyes softly and you laughed.

“it’s fine,” you said, “we’ll talk later, yeah?”

he nodded back down at you, turning to walk towards max, “what’re you doing tomorrow?”

“nothing yet,” you called back.

“good,” he said, “mini golf? i’ll text you?”

you smiled, “sounds good,”

he sent you a smile before walking through the door with max.

it was official: summer was your favorite season.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“you’re a cheater!” you laughed as he happily tapped his ball into the hole. he threw his hands up happily, cheering.

“maybe you’re just bad,” he said, crossing his arms as you got ready to take your shot, “your form is awful, hold on.”

you straightened up, watching as he walked up behind you. you sucked in a nervous breath as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your own, his hands fixing your stance. he tapped his shoe against yours.

“spread your legs a little further,” he said, “and then pull back and follow through, don’t think too much.”

you looked down at the ball and back at the hole in the ground, “okay,”

he pulled on your arms, letting you swing with him as he followed through, tapping the ball. you watched as it went perfectly into the hole. you laughed softly, looking back at him.

“thanks,” you were close enough to see his eyes through his sunglasses. he smiled back at you, taking a step away as he cleared his throat.

“‘s what i’m here for,” he said, watching you walk over to grab the colored golf balls, yours pink and his green, obviously.

you grabbed the score sheet from the pocket of your shorts, unaware of his eyes on you. the way you looked in the setting sun, the way your hair blew in the soft shore wind. everything about you was perfect to him.

but how was he supposed to tell you that? you were his best friend, he wasn’t supposed to think about you like this.

you looked up with a smile on your face and he felt his heart melt right there on the mini golf course, “well, shocker, you won.”

he smiled, “the champion remains undefeated!”

you rolled your eyes, the both of you making your way off the course and to the booth to hand in the balls and clubs, “yeah, yeah, whatever,”

he laughed, “ice cream on me?”

“well if you’re buying, then definitely.” the two of you letting out a soft laugh as you made your way back onto the boardwalk and to the ice cream shop. he held the door open for you and you thanked him, the two of you making your way to the counter.

you placed your orders, making small conversation until a younger brunette walked up to him, “are you lando norris?”

he smiled, “yeah,”

“oh my god!” she turned to her friend, “i told you!”

he laughed softly before she turned back to him, “can i get a picture with you?”

he nodded, “sure.”

you watched as the girl gave her phone to her friend, lando and the girl smiling for the photo before she thanked him and walked out of the store with her friend happily.

“does that ever get old?” you asked him as he turned back to you.

he shrugged, “i mean, the fans are what makes everything worth it, the good races, the bad ones,” you nodded as he continued, “i mean, there are days where i’m just not in the mood, but if one picture can make someone’s day, then so be it.”

you smiled, “i get it,”

the person behind the counter called your order and he handed you your ice cream before the both of you walked out the door. you followed him to bench facing the beach and the water, the both of you sitting down as the sun was setting against the waves.

“so,” he said, “flo told me you were in uni, how’s that going?”

you tilted your head to the side, taking the spoon from your mouth, “it’s going, i guess? i don’t know, it’s not great but it’s not good either. i kinda just feel like someone existing in my classes.”

he chuckled, “like you’re a zombie in lectures?”

you laughed softly, “a little bit, actually, yeah,” you smiled, “especially at my eight o’clocks.”

“what’re you studying?” he asked, looking over at you now. you couldn’t tell behind his sunglasses, but he was watching you with love filled eyes.

“music theory,” you smiled happily.

“oh, no way!” he said, “you got into that program?”

you nodded and he smiled, wiggling his shoulder against yours, “look at you!”

you laughed, “stop,”

“oh c’mon!” he laughed, “you’ve talked about this program since we were kids and you made it! that’s gotta be a little bit of an ego boost, yeah?”

you bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight back the smile, “i mean i guess so-“

“see!”

“okay, but i could say the same with you!” you said, “you were always talking about racing with mclaren and now you’re actually doing it, you’ve gotta be the tiniest bit proud of yourself.”

he nodded, “i am, i guess.”

“you should be.”

he looked over at you, “but it’s different when i’m here, y’know. because i can just be lando here. not lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren, not the overly cocky, sassy guy twitter paints me out to be. i can just, i don’t know-“

“exist?” you asked.

he nodded, looking over at you, “yeah,” he said, “and beat you at mini golf.”

you rolled your eyes and sent him a look as he let out a boyish giggle, immediately apologizing, “okay, okay, sorry!”

you sprung out of your seat, “okay, but i bet i could beat you down to the ocean.”

he raised an eyebrow, “oh, yeah?”

you nodded, sending him a challenging look before you threw your trash into the trash can next to you, “yeah.”

he stood up, throwing his trash out and smirking over at you, “how much do you wanna bet?”

“loser buys dinner?” you said.

“deal,” he said and the both of you took off down the steps to the sand. you slipped your sandals off and laughed as he chased after you, the both of you running past the sunburnt people coming off the beach. you threw your shoes down on the sand, squealing when his hands found your waist, lifting you off your feet when he reached you. you laughed, flailing your legs as an attempt to get him to put you down.

“lando! put me down!” you laughed.

his laugh echoed yours as he complied, putting you down on the wet sand where the waves previously crashed. you spun around to face him, reaching to grab his sunglasses. you grabbed them from his face gently, finally revealing his watercolored eyes. he watched you intently as you smiled, your heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to break through your ribs.

he reached out to you, pulling you closer, “i’m sorry i didn’t come last summer.”

you shook your head, “you’re here now.”

he brushed a piece of hair from your face, “i’m still sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you smiled at him.

you placed his sunglasses in his curls as he watched you, “so, where do you want to go for dinner?”

“ginos?”

“sounds good,” he grinned back at you.