#I wonder if people talk about the other contestants just as much?

[calebslittlecrow]

How Second-Hand Beliefs May Be Screwing You Over

Some second-hand beliefs are kinda like termites, a bit. They are quiet, annoying and happily munch on the foundations of your mindset, while you pretend to be fine and nod along, because someone somewhen told you to think that way ages ago. Because surely a random stranger has all the answers to your reality and journey, right? Before we start to get dramatic, no, I am not claiming all second-hand beliefs are bad. Some are really useful and help a lot of people. If you find something that resonates with you, that is great, put a gold star on your forehead or shit. But I actually wanted to talk about the beliefs that are as helpful to you as tiny stones in your shoes. Beliefs some people worship, despite them doing more harm than good. A few gems from my time doomscrolling: -> “If I don’t use this exact method, I will never shift” -> “I read someone I follow said that I cannot shift to this DR… so I probably never will despite wanting to” -> “If I doubt during the day, my attempt today will fail” -> “Permashifting is impossible, I saw another user say it and others agreed, so it must be true” You kinda get the picture? Those are not really… good beliefs for most people. It’s the mental fast food of beliefs: standing on the counter for a few hours, reheated for half a minute in someone else’s fear and limiting beliefs, served cold in the middle and you are scarfing it down, wondering why your stomach suddenly hurts. Someone once taped a crystal to their forehead and chanted affirmations backwards under the full moon to shift? Cool, good for them. But that doesn’t mean it’s your golden ticket too. It can be, but doesn’t need to be. That is their journey, not yours. If it doesn’t resonate with you and you still pick it up, you shouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t work for you. If shifting is such a personal journey, why are you trying to turn it into a group project (because groupwork always goes so well /s)? Why copy someone else’s rules like your intuition clocked out two hours ago and left you unsupervised for the night? Every time you absorb someone else’s beliefs, you’re just adding another note into your imaginary “Shifting Rule Book Vol.2: Now with 83 more ways to feel absolutely inadequate”. “Don’t doubt, don’t take a break, don ‘t move, don’t use negative words” You’re trying to shift like it’s a test you can fail. As if there is some mean cosmic teacher just itching to stamp a red F on your forehead because you accidentally skipped a step in a method. There is nothing like that. You just made it that serious for yourself. No one else did. And let’s not forget that those second-hand beliefs normally come with a free trial for doubts. Ever seen how half the community tends to drop into a month-long doubtful spiral after one too many mopey “shifting isn’t real :(“ posts? Not that much of a coincidence. That’s just what happens when people marinate in collective anxiety instead of stepping away and asking themselves “What do I believe for myself?”. But no, let’s keep inhaling other people’s insecurities and wonder why everything suddenly feels heavy and like a chore.

And while I am at it: you remember that annoying little voice in your head comparing you to someone else who shifted with either more steps than you or less steps than you, making you question if you do too much or not enough? That is probably not your intuition. That’s your chronic inability to trust in yourself whispering lies into your ear.

Look, you are not being judged, you are not on trial and you are not a contestant for “America’s Next Top Shifter”. You are just trying to connect with a version of yourself that already exists in another reality. That simple. No awards, no evaluations. Just you.

But if you build your mindset solely on “what did others do?” instead of what feels right to you, then congrats, you just demoted yourself to a background character in your own journey. Demoted yourself to a nervous intern, afraid to screw up in case their boss will fire them on the spot and kill their dreams. You constantly doubt yourself, triple check for signs and chase after every successful shifter, hounding them for their method. Their way of shifting.

Second-hand beliefs are sneaky, I know. They look helpful. But if they don’t feel right for you, they are just mental clutter. They don’t empower you, they just corrode your self-trust while you smile along.

Rip it up. All of it. If you can’t explain a belief you hold beyond “XY said so”, maybe you should kick it in a bucket. Your DR doesn’t need a copy-paste version of someone else. It needs you, as unhinged and weird you may be. Go clean up your mental storage, you’ve got realities to shift to. Don’t let some bullshit beliefs hold you back, buttercup.

[soupdrinkinglincoln]

Alright. It’s been one week since the finale. Time for my final retrospective on Ncuti’s time as the Doctor. First of all, writing my thoughts as soon as the episodes dropped means that I had to give my initial thoughts, original and my own and without the time for rethinking and changing with the opinions of others. I stick by many of them. Robot Revolution was a pretty decent episode with some really strong characterisation for Belinda. Lux was great. The Well is still weak to me, despite me feeling less awful about it after reading others takes, I do still believe Midnight is just that slightly weaker for it’s existence. Lucky Day was again fine, but I still think it should have been part of a UNIT side series. And if it setting up Conrad makes that any less true then, hey, I guess Conrad should have been the villain of a UNIT side series. The Story and the Engine, even as somebody who is white as they come, is a wonderful black storyline, in major thanks I’m sure to the writing of Inua Ellams and the directing of Makalla McPherson. The Interstellar Song Contest was super fun, if a little underbaked. Wish World was a good enough buildup to the finale. And the beginning of The Reality War was great. The. Beginning. Of The Reality War.

As a small aside before I begin anything in proper, who’s fucking idea was it to make Ncuti’s stories “Season 1” and “Season 2”? This is still NuWho; it’s not even a particularly long break between Flux and this. We’ve had some specials; that’s never messed with the seasons before. But god did it make trying to find these episodes as a reminder much harder! Doctor Who Season 15 brings up classic who; Doctor Who Season 2 brings up Army of Ghosts. What do you want from me, ‘Doctor Who Season 2 The Third’? Anyway, mini rant over, let’s begun the retrospective.

I think that a lot of people’s big issue, at least that I’ve seen, is that Ncuti’s seasons overrely on nostalgia and calling back to old villains like The Rani, Sutekh and Omega. Initially, I thought that was my issue too. And the rebuttal is obvious. “Oh, you think the show relies too much on nostalgia these seasons, and that’s the problem? What about the constant nostalgia usage from other seasons? Jodie wearing the fez; old companions always coming back, the Daleks and Cybermen and Zygons returning in NuWho from the classic season!” All of that is incredibly valid, and correct, and it’s those points that made me realise what my actual issue was. It was that there wasn’t anything from the classic episodes in this series. Think about it. Everyone’s shared their grievances about Ncuti not being allowed a single Dalek episode, or a Cyberman episode, or a Master episode. But we’ve had nothing back. No Weeping Angels, no Zygons, no Ice Warriors, no Judoon. I mean, for crying out loud, the Rani had a cheap method of time travel she wore around her wrist in lieu of a TARDIS, and the show refused to allow it to be a vortex manipulator. The closest that we’ve gotten to that I think is a single Silurian in ‘Joy To The World’. The refutal to that is also obvious, though, isn’t it. “What about those you’ve just listed? The Toymaker, the Rani, Sutekh, Omega. We got them back!” To which I say- did we? Past name alone these characters are not returning ones. We didn’t get the Celestial Toymaker back, we got the New Toymaker. We didn’t get the Osirans back, we got New Sutekh. We got the New Ranis instead of the classic version of her, and god fucking knows that I’d have given anything to have gotten the old Omega back instead of the CGI plot skeleton New Omega. I love the Pantheon, believe me I do. But they shouldn’t be there in place of the rest of the show’s classic cast.

Now, as for the companions- actually, wait. No. I’d like to talk about the formula before I get to that because comparing both seasons for this, side by side, it’s actually genuinely a little eldritch just noticing what sort of a formula they had to have been working off. Ruby gets The Church on Ruby Road, which is counted as a holiday special before the series, and then following that, just go with me here. Two seasons, eight episodes. The first one is for characterising the new companion and who they are. Then there’s an episode where they deal with a Pantheon member related to the arts. Then there’s an episode where the companion is shown how dangerous travelling with the Doctor is, by way of them being shot. Then there’s a Doctolite story where Ruby is a public enemy. Then the series has a single episode that’s allowed to touch on and discuss the Doctor’s race in more detail than the others. Rogue and The Interstellar Song Contest feel like they have their own identity- and I enjoyed both. Then there’s a two part finale, built around an old lady who has been appearing everywhere across time and space wherever the Doctor goes. In the second part of that finale, the Doctor deals with a CGI creature of death. All the while, Susan is teased but never appears in person. It feels like they built both seasons from the same notecards, or the same structure booklet. I don’t feel like I could line things up like this for any other season of the show; or of any of the sideshows for that matter.

Okay, now onto the companions. Both had interesting mysteries attached to them when they were introduced. Ruby had her enigmatic mother, and Belinda had her connection to ambulance lady. Ruby’s mystery got an ending that was less grand, less insane and enigmatic than anyone expected, but nonetheless, it was human. Belinda’s was completely dropped so they could do a 180 on her character in the finale. Yeah, so let’s talk about Belinda. In Matt Smith’s series, James Corden came into the show in an episode where The Doctor was stuck on Earth. He came back with a child in a later episode with the Cybermen. Belinda, a major companion, had five more episodes than he did. In one of those, she was under the effects of the Wish, so let’s say four. Belinda, again, a major companion, had three times as many episodes as James Corden did. She was given such a strong and defining personality; the thing that made me so pumped for her to begin with, and then they slowly stripped it away. Her being a mother to Poppy was fine, worked well because she was under the effects of the Wish and all, and her being so different highlighted things just as much as The Doctor being John Smith did. But then she was just like that after the Wish ended. And the series ended on Belinda acting so uncharacteristic to how she was, to the degree where she just allowed the Doctor to scan her daughter without a care. In seven episodes. I don’t feel like this happened with Ruby. She began strong, resilient and defiant, and she ended off the same. Though I haven’t missed that she got ten episodes where she could fully be and explore herself, in comparison.

Now, I know fully well that I am far from the person most qualified to talk about race, but it would be impertinent for me not to. I, like most others, do not think that RTD was the person to handle running the show for the first black Doctor to have a main series run. The issues of race were touched on only when it was decided it should be; which was in a total of three episodes from what I remember. Belinda’s character is massacred, Belinda’s family appear randomly and get almost nothing, Carla Sunday gets more characterisation in alternate scenarios where she’s being miserable and horrible to Ruby than she does in the actual canon, Cherry is delightful but used as a gag, the Rani is shafted in her own arc as an antagonist. Everything is very telling but I’d rather leave the actual telling of that to the people who can do a far better job than I.

To conclude this overly long post that I’ve drafted over hours, Ncuti himself played an excellent Doctor in some episodes that I really enjoyed. But a lot of other things let him down. Maybe the showrunner is to blame, maybe Disney had a hand in things. But nonetheless, I think there’s one thing that, irregardless, is killing Doctor Who. And that thing is not Billie Piper. Rumours were that this would be the last series of Doctor Who before it ended. It didn’t. And I think that’s a damn shame. Doctor Who needs to end because the modern, bingeable, eight episodes a season, throw filler to the wolves style of television is not one where the show can thrive. It, to Doctor Who, is akin to a tight steel cage in which a tiger can do nothing but pace on end. I do believe that ‘bingeable limited run series’ style television will end, and that the twenty two episode monster-of-the-weeks and case-by-case detective slash doctor type shows will return. But until they do, I think Doctor Who should wait. Wait to be revived again, with fresh blooded showrunners who watched Jodie and Ncuti as children and who want to tell their own stories. I want more great Doctor Who some day, not more okay Doctor Who now.

Anyway this is genuinely the last time I bring this show up in a lengthy review until the next episodes come out or that sea show does so bye

[pempeeeperem]

This is my favourite tidbit of lore.

Yes, people will talk about both contestants of the big potion tournament. How one of them made all the heroes buy potions from him. How you, a normal citizen, couldn't find specific potions at your favourite potion shop anymore. Or what a showdown it has been to see them both duke it out in the arena.

And then they're hanging out together.

And then they're dating.

Rafta's gossip scene be wild these days.

[illloveyoutillidie]

Hello:))) been reading ur newt hcs and absolutely adored them YOU WRITE HIM SO SWEET. But i was wondering if you would do newt cuddling hcs with a f!reader please? (I haven’t requested for you before so if this isn't the type of thing you do just delete this lol)

thanks<3

hello anon!! i'm happy you like those!! i think that newt is the type of person that treats their s/o gentle !! i hope you like this:))))

Newt who can't keep his hands to himself when you're both cuddling. Newt who would pull you into his chest with your back against him so he can kiss your neck. Newt who would put his arm around your waist just to touch you. Newt who would be crazy and rambles whenever he sees you wear his shirts to cuddle or sleep (and when you ask him why, he says "you look hot- i mean beautiful, wait i didn't mean it like your not hot, cause you are hot, i mean- your hot- wait that's not the point- but you look bloody amazing with my shirt"). Newt who can't sleep without you in his arms. Newt who would be very clingy and glued to you when both of you are alone (he's starved for your attention and affection). Newt who doesn't have a 'favourite cuddle position' but he loves it so much when you rest your head on his chest and just lay there. Newt who runs his fingers through your hair and leave a bunch of kisses all over your face whenever he gets the chance. Newt who sometimes wander his hands underneath your shirt (with consent of course) and he just trace circles all over your skin. Newt who sometimes would just lay in your arms tiredly because he’s exhaused from doing all work, helping around the glade, and having many meetings with Alby and the runners(he's a busy man). Newt who would smell a little more earthy when you guys are cuddling before shower. Newt who prefers to cuddle after shower because he thinks you'll like him more if he smells 'sweet like a candy' when you're both cuddling (he used your soap and shampoo because he said it made him "smell like sweets and vanilla" lol ). Newt who would sleep with you with hardly any space between each other. Newt who loves it when you bury your face in his neck and when you play with his hair. Newt who will always pull you back onto the bed and back into his arms if you try to leave or stop cuddling. ("Newt we have to get up! Alby will be mad at us-" "2 more minutes, please love? i'm sure Alby will be fine without me" "Newt, you said that 20 minutes ago."). Newt who doesn't mind being a big spoon or the little spoon when you're both cuddling. Newt who likes it when his arms are securely around your waist & his face in your hair when he's being the big spoon. Newt's arms will be the place you wake up every morning. Newt who would ask if he can play with your hair every time you're both cuddling (he wants to make sure you're giving him consent even tho you've reassured him that he doesn't need to ask that). Newt who would randomly compliment you when your almost asleep ("your so beautiful. like really bloody beautiful, love"). Newt who would sometimes talk in his sleeps because he gets nightmares when he's cuddling you ("please stay, please. don't go. stay with me." "i'm not going anywhere love"). Newt who would easily get sleepy when you run your hands through his hair. Newt who would fall asleep on top of you, then wakes up only to ask if you're okay, if he made you uncomfortable, and why didn’t you wake him up in his raspy sleepy voice. Newt who would have a staring contest with you and then make stupid faces so you laugh and he wins the contest (later on he tease you about it). Newt who would stay up with you and just have deep conversations as you both cuddle when you can't sleep ("why do people has to lose the person they love first, to realize they're bloody value and worth? doesn't make sense, what do you think?").

I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY MAKING THIS, IT TURNED OUT SO LONGGGG. I'M SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

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

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

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

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

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

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

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

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[lupinqs]

CHAPTER EIGHT ━━ Be You, Be Great

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: angst, mentions of a panic attack/anxiety, underage drinking

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: this one is kinda all over the place i was gonna split it in two but i tried and i didn’t like that either so here this is anyways. also not proofread at all soooo

THE END of October brings a drought. Not the kind that wilts leaves or cracks the ground, but one that seeps into Jo’s chest and leaves her feeling parched in a way she can’t quite explain. It’s been weeks now since things between her and Paige started drying up, and, no matter how much Jo tries to ignore it, to act like everything’s fine, the ache of it gnaws at her.

It started just before Paige went back to LA and only worsened when she was there. All Jo got from her was clipped texts and dodged FaceTimes scattered with weak excuses about being busy with rehab. Jo had tried not to overthink it, convincing herself Paige was genuinely overwhelmed and that things would go back to normal when she came home.

They didn’t.

Paige still avoids her—not entirely, of course, because they live together, and avoiding her completely would be impossible. But she’s rarely in the apartment anymore, and when she is, it’s brief and transactional. She’s quiet during their rare interactions, offering half-hearted “hey”s and “what’s up”s before disappearing into her room or heading out the door again.

It’s just so different to how things used to be. Before, Jo could count on Paige to be there—physically, emotionally, all of it. They’d talk about anything and everything, share late-night snacks on the couch, or marathon stupid shows just because they could. Paige was Jo’s favorite person to spend time with. But now, it’s like there’s been a complete flip of a switch.

What makes it worse is the not-knowing. Jo has no idea why Paige is pulling back, why she’s suddenly so distant. She’s racked her brain trying to figure it out, wondering if she said or did something wrong. The thought of it eats at her, but she’s too afraid to bring it up. She’s terrified of making it worse or of Paige telling her something she doesn’t want to hear.

So, she says nothing.

Instead, she busies herself with other people. Ice, for one, has been in a bad place ever since dislocating her knee a few weeks ago. She’s out for the season, and Jo knows all too well how isolating that kind of injury can be. She’s been spending a lot of time with her, trying to cheer her up, keep her distracted. It’s been good for both of them, but not the same.

Nothing is the same without Paige.

And Jo knows that Paige is probably out hooking up with other girls most nights—she’s not stupid. Paige never brings anyone back to their apartment, which Jo is grateful for, but the idea of it still stings in a way she can’t explain. It’s probably just the principle of it, that Paige can go out and entertain these other girls every night while simultaneously acting like Jo doesn’t exist.

And this stupid drought lingers even under the bright lights of Gampel.

It’s First Night, the annual event kicking off the basketball season, and the whole arena is packed. The men’s and women’s teams have been split into two groups for the evening’s competitions, with Andre Jackson and Paige as the respective captains. Jo is on Andre’s team.

The evening kicks off with a dizzying mix of games, dances, and contests, the crowd roaring with every half-court shot and mascot stunt. Jo participates in a few challenges with her team, laughing when Andre attempts to dunk it over one of their managers and fails spectacularly.

It’s fun. It should be fun. But Jo can’t help but feel the weight of Paige’s attention—or lack thereof—throughout the night.

When the three-point contest rolls around, Jo is the last to go. Her name gets called, and the crowd cheers for their new freshman. She steps into her corner, shaking her limbs out. She doesn’t look at Paige—can’t, really—but, somehow, she still feels her gaze from where she stands at half-court. Jo doesn’t know how or why she always seems to register it, but the feeling is continuously at the edge of her awareness.

The contest is a blur. Jo doesn’t miss much, her muscle memory doing most of the work, and when the buzzer sounds, Andre and her teammates swarm her, lifting her arms in victory. She grins, basking in the win of it, but her eyes inevitably find Paige.

The blonde is clapping along with the rest of her team, grinning wide and hyping up the crowd, but when her gaze flicks to Jo, something shutters behind her eyes. She doesn’t approach, doesn’t tease her about beating her team. Doesn’t say a single word.

It hurts more than it should.

Jo retreats back to the sidelines, the cheers still echoing in her ears, though her head has started to hurt a little. Since the day she got here, Paige was always the first to hype her up—always the loudest voice in the room for her. Clearly not anymore.

The rest of the event passes in a haze. Jo keeps up with the energy of her team, but her chest feels heavy, weighed down by everything unsaid and unknown. By the time the night ends, she’s exhausted—not from the competition, but from the effort of pretending that everything’s normal and fine.

As the crowd filters out and the teams gather for a final photo, Jo finds herself standing a few feet from Paige. The photographers are shouting directions, rearranging players into rows, but Jo hardly listens. She risks a glance at Paige, who’s laughing at something Alex Karaban just said, her smile radiant and gummy and perfect under the bright arena lights.

But when Paige’s eyes meet Jo’s, probably having sensed her creepy staring, the smile falters. It’s brief—barely noticeable—but Jo sees it. She feels it. And it twists something deep in her chest.

Jo doesn’t know what she did to deserve this distance, but it’s killing her. Whatever is going on with Paige, clearly it might be bigger than anything Jo can fix.

And as much as she hates to admit it, Jo’s starting to wonder if Paige even wants her to try.

IT’S THE first game of the season—a guaranteed blowout against Northeastern—and the energy around campus is full of excitement. Paige should be, too. The start of a new season is always her favorite time of year, a chance to do what she loves most and remind herself why she worked so hard to get here. But this year, it feels more like a countdown to a role she doesn’t want to play.

Paige knows she should be grateful. Grateful that her recovery has gone smoothly so far. Grateful that she’s still part of the team she’s always dreamed of playing for, even if it’s from the sidelines. But sitting out isn’t what she was built for. She misses the adrenaline of the game, the weight of the ball in her hands, the feeling of sneakers skidding across the court as she runs a fast break. She misses the pressure—real pressure—and the way it forces her into focus like nothing else. Without it, she feels… aimless.

So, she’s determined to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t play, she’ll hype. She’ll coach. She’ll be Coach P, the way everyone loves her to be. It’s easier that way. Easier to focus on everyone else than to deal with the mess she’s made for herself.

Jo is a big part of that mess.

Paige hasn’t spent a single night in their apartment since she got back to LA—not one. It’s not like she doesn’t want to. She misses the way things were before, how easy and natural it was to be around Jo before everything got so damn complicated. But the thought of sitting in bed with Jo beside her, watching a movie or eating takeout like they always did, feels like far too much.

So, she stays away. She’s made a habit of bouncing between other people’s beds—random girls whose names she barely remembers by the morning. Paige has always been a little reckless when it comes to that stuff, but lately, it’s spiraled into something worse. A distraction. A way to drown out the feelings she doesn’t want to deal with.

But even in that, she’s careful. She doesn’t bring anyone back to her and Jo’s apartment—not after Jo saw Celeste sneaking out during the summer. Paige doesn’t want to do that—doesn’t want Jo to be dragged into her mess.

Paige tells herself she’s protecting both of them by keeping her distance. If she gives herself a little more time, maybe the feelings will face. Maybe they’ll go back to being normal, just friends, the way they’re supposed to be.

But the truth is, Paige doesn’t think it’s working.

She still catches herself watching Jo during practice, noting things she shouldn’t. The way her hair falls into her face when she’s running drills. The soft laugh she lets out whenever Nika says something characteristically stupid. The way she moves on the court—so quick and sharp, like she’s always a step ahead of everyone else. It makes Paige’s stomach flip in a way she hates.

And the more time that’s passed, the more Paige has wondered if she’s just fooling herself. That maybe these feelings aren’t going anywhere at all. That maybe this is just who she is now—stuck and restless, with a hopelessly crush on her roommate, teammate, someone who’s supposed to be her best friend.

She shakes the thought off as she walks into Gampel for shoot-around. Her teammates laugh and joke as they warm up, excited. Paige pulls on her best version of normal, slinging her arm around Azzi and teasing Nika about her taped-up finger.

It works for a while. Her voice rings out as she cheers for Lou’s perfect three-pointer, then for Aaliyah’s easy layup. She’s Paige—bright and loud and focused on everyone but herself.

Afterward, the team files back into the locker room, their chatter bouncing off the walls. Paige trails behind, mentally cataloging what she’ll say during the pregame huddle. But when she glances around the room, she realizes something’s missing.

Someone’s missing.

Jo isn’t there.

It’s not entirely unusual for Jo to slip away for a few minutes—she’s probably grabbing water or something. But Paige’s chest tightens anyway. She leans toward Ice, who’s scrolling through her phone on the bench.

“Hey, you seen Jo?” Paige asks, trying to sound casual.

Ice shrugs without looking up. “She couldn’t have gone far.” Then she glances at Paige, and gives her a look. Her eyebrows lift just enough to make the blonde feel like she’s been caught in a lie she hasn’t even told yet.

Paige’s jaw clenches. She straightens and brushes it off with a quick, “Thanks,” ignoring the unspoken why do you care now? hanging in Ice’s expression.

She slips out of the locker room before anyone else can ask questions, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor. The back hallways of Gampel are quiet except for the muffled sound of the crowd filtering in through the concrete walls. Paige assumes Jo’s probably just off clearing her head.

But then she hears it.

It’s faint at first, just a sharp, broken sound that makes her pause mid-step. She tilts her head, frowning as she listens harder. For a moment, there’s nothing, just the distant murmur of the arena. Then it comes again—a soft, muffled sob.

Paige stills.

Her chest tightens as she slowly scans the hallway, her eyes narrowing. She knows that sound. It’s raw, unfiltered, the kind of cry that comes from deep inside. Her feet move before she can think, her pulse quickening as she rounds another corner.

And there, huddled in a little alcove off to the side, is Jo.

Her head is buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling violently as her chest heaves with shallow, rapid breaths. Even from a few feet away, Paige can see how hard she’s struggling, her whole body curling in on itself as if trying to disappear.

Paige stops dead in her tracks.

She doesn’t know what to do. Jo isn’t supposed to look like this—broken and vulnerable and so completely unlike herself. Jo’s the happiest, brightest, smiliest person she’s ever met. But here she is, falling apart right in front of Paige, and it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the hallway.

“Jo?” Paige asks softly, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

Jo’s head snaps up, her tear-streaked face whipping toward Paige in a startled panic. Her wide, glassy eyes lock on hers for a split second before she looks away, hurriedly wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her warm-ups.

“It’s fine,” Jo blurts, her voice cracking as she waves Paige off. “’M fine. Nothing’s wrong. Just—it’s okay. You can go.”

But Paige isn’t going anywhere.

She steps closer slowly, cautiously, her heart pounding as she watches Jo’s chest rise and fall too quickly, her breathe shallow and uneven. Jo’s hands tremble where they’re clenched in her lap, her knuckles white, and Paige begins to recognize the signs.

“Jo,” Paige says again, firmer this time. She crouches slightly, trying to meet Jo’s gaze. “Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to me. I’m here.”

Jo shakes her head violently, her lips trembling as she stares down at her hands. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she stammers, her voice shaking. “I just—I can’t—” She breaks off, gasping for air as another sob wracks her body.

Paige’s stomach twists. She drops to one knee, her hand hovering awkwardly near Jo’s arm before she finally touches her, rubbing gentle circles on Jo’s sleeve. “Hey, hey, just breathe,” she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady even though she feels like she’s about to unravel herself. “Slow and deep, yeah? Just breathe with me.”

But Jo can’t. Her breaths are too fast, too shallow, and the tears keep coming, spilling down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Jo chokes out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why—I don’t know why I’m like this. Maybe it’s because I forgot to take my anxiety meds today, or—or maybe it’s just everything. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Paige says gently, nodding even though she feels completely out of her depth. “Okay. That’s okay. Just take your time.”

Jo sniffles, and Paige watches as the younger girl’s nails dig into the fabric of her warm-up pants. “I’m just so nervous,” she admits, her words coming out in a frantic, breathless rush. “Even though I know—it’s so stupid, I know—we’re gonna win by, like, forty points. But I can’t stop thinking about. I don’t wanna mess up. I don’t wanna disappoint anyone.”

Paige’s heart cracks a little more with every word, though she knows it’s not entirely abnormal for a freshman to feel this way. That doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want Jo to feel this way.

The brunette’s breathing stilts again, her voice rising a little as she continues. “Especially not you,” she says. The words come out so soft, so sad, that Paige almost doesn’t hear them. “I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

Paige opens her mouth to say something, but Jo keeps going, her voice trembling as fresh tears begin to fill her eyes. “I—I know I’ve disappointed you—or—or made you mad,” she stumbles, her breath hitting on a quiet sob. “I had to have, right? Because, I mean—why—why else would you be ignoring me?”

Paige’s heart stutters at the words.

Jo’s tear-filled eyes finally meet hers, and Paige is struck by how wide and vulnerable, like every signal wall Jo has ever built is crumbling down. Her lip trembles as she whispers, “What did I do to make you hate me, Paige?”

The question lingers in the air, hanging heavy between them, suffocating Paige with its weight. The words pulse in her chest, beating against her rib cage, and suddenly, she feels like she can’t breathe either. The guilt crashes into her like a tidal wave, a suffocating, all-consuming force.

She should’ve been more considerate. She should’ve seen this coming—Jo’s feelings. She should’ve taken the time to explain, to talk it out. But instead, she had pulled away, had put this distance between them, thinking about all of her own feelings without even giving a thought to Jo’s. And now Jo thinks she hates her. Hates her. The thought slices through Paige, a sharp pain that she can’t shake. It feels like a punch to the gut. The fact that Jo—perfect, pretty, happy, sweet, smart, everything that’s good in the world Jo—could ever believe that makes Paige realize just how much she’s fucked this all up.

I’ve never hated you, Paige thinks desperately, but the words feel so empty, so hollow. They’re not enough. They’ll never be enough.

The irony of it hits her like a ton of bricks—Jo thinks she hates her, but the truth is far more complicated. Because it’s the exact opposite. I like you too much. The thought pops into Paige’s head unbidden, and her heart skips a beat.

She takes a shaky breath, her hand instinctively reaching up toward Jo’s face. The movement feels foreign, almost bold, but her fingers are gentle as they sweep under Jo’s eyes, wiping away some of the tears that still stain her cheeks. For a moment, Jo doesn’t react, her eyes still unfocused, the remnants of panic still visible in her expression. But then, slowly, her gaze meets Paige’s. Brown on blue, the contact feels like a jolt, like electricity running through her veins.

Paige’s heart stumbles, and she can’t stop herself from cupping Jo’s cheeks in her hands, cradling her face softly. She needs Jo to understand, needs her to hear this. She needs to make it clear—I don’t hate you. The words are stuck in her throat, tangled up with everything else she’s been feeling, but they finally tumble out, heavy and full of suppressed emotion.

“God, Joey,” she whispers thickly, “I could never hate you.”

Jo’s eyes are wide, filled with confusion and hurt, and she opens her mouth as if to protest, but then she asks, her voice barely a whisper, “Then—then why have you been ignoring me?”

Paige feels the weight of that question settle into her bones. She wants to tell Jo everything, to be honest, but the words fall down her windpipe as soon as they’re formed. You’re the reason I’ve been pushing you away, she wants to say. It’s you, Jo. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you. But she’d never admit that. It’s not fair—not when Jo’s happy with Asher. There’s no need to complicate things further for something that will never happen.

So, instead, Paige forces herself to breathe, to steady herself before speaking again. She looks at Jo, trying to read the sadness in her eyes, the confusion, the vulnerability that still lingers despite the panic subsiding. Paige feels another hot sting of guilt—how could she have let Jo feel this way? How could she have been so careless?

“I’ve just been in a bad place in my head recently,” Paige says, her voice quieter now, more measured. It’s not exactly a lie. It’s just that the full truth is too messy, too tangled. She needs a reason that makes sense, something Jo can understand, something that doesn’t risk breaking everything between them. “I’ve been frustrated with my knee, and… I guess it’s just all piled up.”

Jo listens, nodding slowly, her expression still tight with uncertainty. Paige adds, carefully, feeling the weight of the words press down on her, “And—and I really like this girl who doesn’t like me back.” She pauses, her stomach twisting with the admission, even though it’s only half of the truth. “And all of it together—it’s just… it’s made me pull away from almost everyone. I don’t really know how to deal.”

Jo takes in the words, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment, her fingers twitching nervously against her thighs. Paige watches her closely, hoping that Jo can make sense of everything she’s said, that she can understand why Paige has acted the way she has in some capacity.

“But,” the blonde adds, knowing it’s necessary, “it’s not excuse. None of it is. I shouldn’t of pulled away. I shoulda talked to you, told you what was goin’ on. And I’m really fucking sorry I didn’t.”

For a long moment, there’s silence, and all Paige can do is wait, her heart hammering in her chest. Jo’s breathing has finally evened out, the tension in her shoulders beginning to ease, but there’s still an underlying fragility in the air.

Finally, Jo says quietly, “Okay.”

Without thinking, Paige reaches out, pulling Jo into a tight hug. Her arms wrap around Jo instinctively, holding her close, and for a moment, Paige can’t help but think about how perfect Jo feels in her arms like this. How soft and warm and real she is. The weight of Jo’s body against hers, the way Jo fits into her arms, feels so right that it almost takes Paige’s breath away. She buries her face in Jo’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo, the feeling of Jo finally grounding Paige in way that she hasn’t felt in far too long.

“’M sorry,” Paige murmurs into Jo’s hair. “’M so sorry for making you feel like that.”

Paige isn’t sure how long they stay like that, locked together, before she feels Jo’s hands move, shifting just slightly, gently beginning to pull away. The movement feels like a cold wind cutting through the warmth of the hug, and Paige immediately feels the absence, the space between them growing far too wide. She wants to reach out and pull Jo back into her, to hold her tighter and never let go, but—obviously—she doesn’t.

Jo’s eyes are still slightly red, but as she pulls back, her lips curve into the softest, most forgiving smile, a smile that feels so Jo—genuine and kind, even when everything else is unraveling. It’s almost unbearable to see, because Paige knows that Jo doesn’t deserve to be this forgiving. She doesn’t deserve to feel like this was all just something to brush off.

“It’s okay,” Jo says, her words wrapped in warmth, in that same kindness that makes her who she is. But Paige knows that it’s not okay. She knows that, even if Jo’s forgiven her, Paige is not so quick to forgive herself, because what she’s done is not okay.

It goes silent between them again for a long moment. Paige can’t think of what to say. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She wants to apologize again, over and over, to make sure Jo really knows. But the clock is ticking. The game is still ahead of them. The pressure of it presses in on her chest, and she knows that they can’t have this conversation now. Not before the game. Not when the adrenaline needs to take over and the court demands focus.

Paige takes a steadying breath, feeling the air fill her lungs, forcing her thoughts to calm down. She needs to help Jo. She needs to get her head in the right space before the game. Jo is here, with her, needing her. And as much as the emotional weight of everything is damn near overwhelming her, Paige pushes it aside.

She reaches forward, gently but firmly placing her hands on Jo’s shoulders, giving her a soft but decisive push to meet her eyes. Jo’s gaze lifts to meet Paige’s with a quiet, uncertain trust, and Paige feels the familiar surge of responsibility that always floods her when her teammates need her. She’s a leader. She has to lead. And right now, Jo needs her to.

“My dad texts me before every game I play in,” Paige says steadily. “‘Be you, be great.’ That’s all you gotta do today, Joey. Just be you, and it’ll come to you.”

It’s simple, but true. Jo doesn’t need anything more than to be herself. She doesn’t need to try to be perfect or live up to expectations that aren’t hers. She just needs to trust herself, trust her game.

Jo’s eyes shift slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. It’s there, but it’s still guarded. The smile that Paige so desperately wants to see doesn’t fully reach Jo’s eyes yet, but it’s a start. She nods slowly, a small motion, but enough to let Paige know she’s listening.

“Josephine fuckin’ Jacobson,” Paige continues, saying her full name for emphasis, “you are such a good basketball player. And you’re gonna do great. Okay? Be you, be great.”

Jo takes a deep breath, and Paige watches as the tension seems to slowly ease off of her. She nods, more definitively this time, the hint of a real smile tugging at her lips. It’s small, but it’s there.

“Okay,” Jo says quietly, before repeating the word more firmly. “Okay.”

PAIGE’S MIND is fuzzy, her limbs heavy with the after effects of one too many dirty shirley’s. Despite the November chill, she feels hot, and her feet shuffle unevenly as she and Jo stumble back toward their apartment. They’re both absolutely hammered—there’s no other way to describe it. The world feels a little hazy, like everything around her is softly swaying. Her head spins, and it’s all a bit much, but it’s also freeing in a way. She hasn’t felt this loose, this light, in a long time.

Their win against Northeastern and the start of the season fills the air, hanging around them like a celebratory cloud. Jo played like Jo—21 points, 5 assists, 4 boards, 4 steals—just as Paige knew she would. A great collegiate debut, and Paige had watched every second of it from the bench, locked in. She’d felt so proud—and even a little awestruck—that Jo went out there and did that, after having such an emotionally charged pre-game.

Now, as they weave their way back to their apartment, arms brushing, legs tangling as they trip over their own feet, that sense of pride is still lodged in Paige’s chest, warm and comforting, like a glow that won’t fade. She can’t stop giggling, low and breathy, as Jo laughs along beside her. Their words are slurred, but that doesn’t stop them. Everything is funny—every little thing. Every misstep, every giggle, every second of pure chaos that they’re living in right now is a spark of joy after having been without it for too long.

Paige’s thoughts drift lazily, floating between the haze of the alcohol and the warmth of the night. She’s not sure when they’d started leaning into each other—just that they are now, and it feels comfortable. Familiar. Nice. Perfect. Great.

“You good?” Jo asks in a voice that’s too loud as she unlocks the front door to their apartment, then bursts into giggles again.

Paige snorts, stumbling a bit more dramatically than necessary. “I’m so good,” she says, her voice sounding more slurred than she means it to be. She throws an arm around Jo’s shoulder to steady herself, but the weight of her makes Jo stumble, and they both neatly collapse into the wall. They’re laughing too hard to care.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Jo gasps suddenly and jerks her arm away, running ahead, the sound of her feet echoing down the hallway. Paige, still a bit off balance, blinks in confusion for a moment, then laughs drunkenly. “Bro—where you goin’?” she asks, her voice trailing off into giggles as she watches Jo hurry toward her bedroom.

Paige follows slowly. It’s odd, in a way—this whole night, this whole feeling. This morning when she woke up, she never expected to be here with Jo, giggling and laughing and things feeling normal again. She probably assumed she’d just be in someone else’s bed. But she’s not, she’s here—with Jo.

Jo. Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo. She’s so good at basketball, and she’s so good at being there for Paige, even when Paige fucks up. She’s still here, still making everything feel lighter than air.

Paige leans against the doorframe of Jo’s bedroom, watching the younger girl move around her room, back and forth, rifling through her closet with purpose. Clearly, she’s looking for something.

“Joey, what’re you doin’?” Paige asks. Her question hangs in the air, teasing, but it’s laced with affection—Paige can’t hide that part. Especially in her tipsy state, Paige can’t help but stare at Jo with a smile that feels like it’s stretching her face.

Jo doesn’t answer. She’s clearly very focused on something, her movements a little clumsy but endearing. Paige watches her closely, and she lets out another small laugh without meaning to. Her eyes stay glued to Jo, to how everything she does seems to command Paige’s attention. It shouldn’t be a surprise though—even without alcohol in her system, Jo is always there, always occupying every inch of Paige’s thoughts. Maybe it’s starting to get a little pathetic, actually.

Then, Jo suddenly straightens up, a gleam in her eyes. She pulls something out of the depths of her closet—a gift-wrapped box. She bounds over to Paige with her infectious energy, and before Paige can fully process what’s happening, Jo grabs her hand and tugs her into the room, practically pulling her off her feet in her enthusiasm. The force of it makes Paige stumble a little, but it doesn’t matter—Jo’s laughter fills the room, a sound so bright that it makes Paige’s chest swell.

The door slams shut behind them. Paige watches as Jo shoves the gift into her hands, still grinning, still beaming like she’s giving Paige the greatest gift in the world.

“Happy late birthday!” Jo’s words are slurred but joyful.

It is late. Very late, in fact. But Paige had been in LA during her actual birthday, and when she got back, Jo didn’t really have time to give her her gift for… obvious reasons.

But she’s here, giving her one now, and Paige feels so cared for and seen that she can barely even focus on what’s in her hands. The wrapping paper crinkles under her fingers as she tears it open, the motion slow and clumsy, but she feels her heart beat a little faster as Jo watches her do it with those wide eyes full or excitement.

The gift is a Lego set.

It’s one Paige has wanted for months, one that she’d seen in the store and practically drooled over, but she’d never let herself buy it. Jo and Aaliyah and Ines had been with her there, watching her ponder over whether or not to buy it. She decided not to, deeming it too expensive even if she certainly could afford it. But she already had, like, five sets in her hands—so, it was definitely a no-go that day.

But now she’s holding that set, because of Jo. Jo spent money on it, just for Paige. Just because she knew how much it would mean to her.

“Joey!” she exclaims, her voice full of awe and genuine surprise. She turns to Jo, blue eyes wide.

“Do you like?” Jo asks, voice soft but still excited.

“I love!” Paige responds with a wide, goofy smile. It’s true. She loves the thought behind it, the gesture, the fact that Jo cares enough to get her this, let alone anything.

It’s not long before Paige flops onto her back on Jo’s bed, the Lego set abandoned to the side, her arms stretched out like a starfish. Jo plops down next to her, the mattress dipping under her weight, and Paige has to fight the instinct—drunk and probably sober, too—to pull her closer. It would be so easy. One hand on Jo’s waist, the other around her shoulder, tucking her against her chest. It’s a dangerous thought, one Paige shouldn’t even entertain, but the drunkenness isn’t helping her self-control. Instead, she keeps her hands firmly to herself, pressing them into the comforter. She stares up at the ceiling for a moment before her gaze inevitably shifts to Jo.

Jo is staring at the ceiling, too, wide-eyed, like she’s marveling at the sheer existence of it. Her mouth falls open in an exaggerated “wow,” and Paige bites her lip to stifle yet another laugh.

“The world is spinning,” Jo announces, her voice filled with awe and disbelief, like she’s just uncovered some profound universal truth.

Paige can’t hold back her laughter this time. It bubbles out of her, loud and unabashed. “Bro, you’re so drunk,” she says, turning her head to look at her more directly.

Jo grins and shifts her gaze, meeting Paige’s eyes. “No, you’re so drunk!” she fired back, her words slurring slightly as she pokes Paige in the shoulder for emphasis.

They’re both laughing now, the kind of laughter that comes from being young and carefree and absolutely wasted. It’s the kind of moment Paige wants to capture and keep forever, this version of Jo so happy and light and hers, if only for now.

But then, the sharp trill of a phone cuts through the moment, jolting them both from their drunken bubble. Jo groans, her head tipping back against the mattress as if the mere thought of moving is too much effort. “Ugh, noooo,” she whines, squirming around to try and reach into her back pocket where her phone is ringing insistently.

Paige sits up slightly, propping herself on one elbow, laughing at Jo’s struggles. “C’mon, champ,” she teases, watching the younger girl twist and wriggle until she finally manages to pull her phone free. Jo squints at the screen, her tongue sticking out a little in concentration, before she lets out a soft, “Oh. It’s Asher.”

The name hits Paige like a splash of cold water, instantly sobering her. She forces her face to stay neutral, her heart sinking just slightly as Jo answers the call. She tries to brush it off, but it feels like someone just yanked her back to reality.

Jo’s voice brightens as she presses the phone to her ear. “Hiiii, what do you want?” she greets, the words teasing but affectionate. Paige watches her closely, her eyes scanning Jo’s face, cataloging every expression as Asher’s voice hums faintly on the other side of the line. She can’t make out the words, but she doesn’t really need to. Jo’s smile tells her everything she doesn’t want to know.

“Yes, I’m drunk,” Jo says with a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. Another pause, another response Paige doesn’t hear. “Okay, yes, I will.” Jo giggles, the sound light and airy, and Paige’s chest aches. “Yes, I love you, too. Byeeee!” Jo hangs up with a flourish, tossing the phone toward the foot of the bed. It bounces off and clatters to the floor, but Jo just laughs. “Oops.”

Paige tries to laugh with her, but it doesn’t come as easily as before. She’s too caught up in the sting of hearing Jo say those words so effortlessly. I love you too. It’s not like Paige hasn’t heard it before, but tonight, when they’ve spent the whole evening laughing and leaning into each other’s space, it feels sharper, harder to ignore.

Before she can think too much, Jo scoots closer, collapsing onto Paige with a happy sigh. Her head rests on Paige’s chest, and Paige freezes, her heart slamming against her robe as a Jo mumbles, “Boys,” in an exasperated tone, as if that single word explains everything.

Paige forces a chuckle, but it’s quieter now, more subdued. Her mind races, but she doesn’t move. She can’t. She doesn’t trust herself to touch Jo, even though she wants to, desperately. She wants to wrap her arms around her, hold her tight, tell her that boys are stupid and unnecessary and that Paige could love her better, so much better. But she doesn’t.

Jo’s breathing slows and it seems within moments, she’s out cold, the alcohol taking everything out of her, her body heavy and warm against Paige’s. Paige shifts slightly, careful not to disturb her, and lets out a shaky breath. She hesitates, then lifts a hand, brushing it gently through Jo’s hair. The soft strands glide through her fingers, and it’s soothing in a way she can’t explain, even if it makes her chest hurt.

She stares at Jo, at the peaceful expression on her face. She shouldn’t feel this way. She knows that. But knowing—or the stupid space shit she tried that was clearly bad for both of them—doesn’t stop the feelings. It doesn’t stop the yearning or the way her stomach flips every time Jo looks at her. It doesn’t stop the way she knows Jo is happy with Asher, that Jo loves him, that Paige will never be anything more than her best friend.

But she decides that it’s enough. That it has to be. If this is the only way she can have Jo, then she’ll take it. She’ll take the laughter, the late nights, the moments like these where Jo trusts her enough to fall asleep on her. She’ll take Jo in any way she’ll give her, even if it breaks her heart a little more every day.

Because loving Jo, even from a distance, even like this, feels like the most natural thing in the world.

[elysianstarfall]

miscellaneous phantom busters hcs

(pre-dating or dating, i have no clue so read however you want)

summary: the title, basically—this is also a chapter on wattpad so check it out (same name as tumblr)

characters: shishikuno mogari, korekishi eugene, kanzaki kaoru, tamon kotaro

s. mogari

✧ randomly sends you the stupidest memes/insta reels/youtube shorts/tiktoks he can find

- he is DEEP into the brainrot (korekishi has no idea what he's talking about)

- considers it part of the "youth experience"

✧ begs you to try weird food combos with him

- "pickles... and nutella."

- "what the fuck?"

- "it's good, trust."

✧ lowkey has a sleeper build

- once you were bored in class and wanted to see his biceps (real)

- "mogari, can you flex—WHOAAA?!"

- he loves when you compliment him because it feeds his ego like crazy

✧ does the thing where he taps you on the shoulder and then looks away and pretends it wasn't him

- fails every time because he cannot keep a straight face

- "there is literally no one else around. who, besides you, could have possibly done that?"

- "...a ghost?"

✧ has, multiple times, handed you his phone and told you to record him doing something "really cool" only to eat shit or wipe out

- "first try!"

- "more like eighth. also, you scraped your knee. come here."

- at least you take care of him when he gets hurt (maybe that's his plan?!)

- when he actually succeeds he expects you to glaze him

- "THAT WAS SICK AS FUCK! RIGHT?!"

- "it was pretty cool, i guess."

- "YESSS!"

k. eugene

✧ stays up on call with you if you need help with schoolwork

- explains topics really well (chatgpt who?)

- is super patient and wants to make sure you understand everything

- somehow never oversleeps even if you both stay up really late

✧ randomly fixes your uniform for you

- adjusts your collar and stuff

- "what are you doing?"

- "making sure you don't get in trouble."

✧ has insanely pretty handwriting

- it actually looks printed

- "can i see your notes, korekishi?"

- "of course. but, i thought you took your own notes?"

- "yours look nicer..."

✧ lets you do whatever you want with his hair

- it's so silky and smooth

- sometimes you braid it during class and he just leaves it like that for the rest of the day

- he carries hair ties around and lets you use them

✧ knows there are dating rumors about you two but purposely doesn't correct people

- defends you with his life if anyone talks shit about you though

- "korekishi, why do people from class c think you're my boyfriend?"

- "blimey, i wonder why."

k. kaoru

✧ sends you out of context manga panels, and when you ask what's going on he just tells you to read the manga to find out

- "wait, that's so funny... what the hell is happening, though?"

- "here's the link. it's chapter 239."

- "fuck off."

- you still read all 239 chapters and beyond

- he's gotten you into like 15 new series this way

✧ sometimes you just watch anime while video calling

- he has to rewatch episodes by himself afterwards because he just zones out staring at you instead of watching with you

- infodumps randomly but makes sure you don't get spoiled

- straight up lies to you if you come across spoilers so you don't believe them

- "he DIES?!"

- "no, what are you talking about? someone totally made that up."

✧ has really long eyelashes and lets you stare into his eyes for however long you want

- you love having "staring contests" with him (totally not an excuse to look into his eyes)

- he definitely knows but just lets you do it so he can stare at you more

✧ talks about you to his sister way too much

- she's sick of hearing about you but still wants you to come over

- you make him happy, so why wouldn't she like you?

✧ lets you trace over his scars and draw on him

- still avoids getting touched by the other guys though

- comes to your classroom during break or lunch just to sit with you so you can use pens to draw stuff on his hands

- he likes how focused you look while drawing

t. kotaro

✧ texts you sometimes but mostly prefers voice calling since he likes how you sound

- occasionally tries to do video calls but starts tweaking after a while from the eye contact

- "y/n, please, please, please turn off your camera."

- "damn, am i that ugly?"

- "what—no!"

✧ speaking of calling, calls you late at night when he can't sleep

- you're literally his asmr

- you don't mind because his sleepy voice is so, so nice

- likes it when you ramble so he can just close his eyes and listen

✧ has a spotify blend with you

- listens to every single music rec you give him but is way too scared to recommend you anything

- made you a playlist, sent it to you, didn't check his phone for the next 12 hours in case you didn't like it

✧ most used apps are the weather and calculator apps

- uses them to look busy and get out of talking to people

- "we're literally outside, you do not need to check the weather right now."

- "...yes, i do."

- "and why are you putting random numbers into the calculator?!"

- "i just... really like math."

✧ has no idea how to start a conversation so he just sends you cat pictures

- wants you to say something so he can talk to you

- every time, it's a different cat... you have no idea where he gets all those pics from

- "tamon, you know you can just say 'hi' or 'hello'?"

- "my bad."

[luvismenu]

STARBOY — JJK ,, 05 universe ✎ ,, index

warnings: just them bantering and idk, fluff? (jungkook trying to be romantic ekjwkwja)

note: yay finally!! i will update more often now dw guys (not an empty promise) only 5 more chaps!

“___! can i take a break now? i think everything’s fine.”

you glance around the room, groups of students chatter excitedly, some jittery with nerves as they await the start of the contest, while others treat the event like a casual hangout, their laughter echoing too loudly in the room.

turning back to elena, you let out a sigh. “just a few more minutes, vice. can you help me get everyone to settle down? you’ll get your break once the contest ends and we’re waiting for the results, yeah?”

she looks momentarily disappointed, her shoulders slumping slightly, but she nods.

you offer her a small, reassuring smile. “thank you for sticking with me through all of this. it’ll be over soon, i promise.”

her expression softens at your words, and she gives you a faint smile before heading off to manage the crowd. you take a moment to breathe, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

that’s when you notice kim namjoon weaving his way through the throng of students, his tall frame making him hard to miss.

“looks like you’ve got everything under control,” he says as he approaches

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i wouldn’t say that. it’s more like controlled chaos.”

namjoon smiles. “that’s still impressive. pulling off an event like this isn’t easy, but you seem to have it handled.”

“well, i have all of you to thank for a lot of it,” you admit, glancing towards the vice as she speaks to a group of students. “and honestly, i’m just praying everything goes smoothly once the contest starts.”

“it will,” namjoon assures you, his voice steady. “you’ve planned everything down to the last detail. plus, the turnout’s great. everyone’s excited.”

“that’s what worries me,” you joke, half serious. “the more people, the more chances for something to go wrong.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “classic class president mindset. always prepared for the worst.”

“someone has to be,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “what about you? are you just here to observe, or are you part of the contest?”

“observe,” he says with a shrug. “i wanted to see how this plays out. it’s not every day the english majors get this much attention.”

“true,” you agree, scanning the room briefly before turning back to him. “but i thought someone like you would’ve joined. you’re always talking about writing.”

“i prefer writing stories for myself,” he admits, his expression thoughtful. “contests like these are great, but they’re not really my thing. i like watching people shine in their own way.”

his words are sincere, and for a moment, you find yourself appreciating his perspective. “that’s... nice. i hope the participants feel the same way and don’t faint from all the nerves.”

“they’ll do fine,” he says with confidence, glancing at the other students. “but you should probably take your own advice and relax a bit. you’re doing great.”

you scoff lightly but nod. “i’ll relax when this is all over.”

“fair enough,” namjoon replies with a knowing smile. “good luck, ___. not that you need it.”

“thanks,” you say, watching as he turns to blend back into the crowd.

you wonder where jungkook is.

not that you care, of course.

he was one of the people who helped the student council a lot with the event, so it’s only polite to thank him. nothing more, nothing less.

pulling out your phone, you scroll through the messages he sent earlier.

starboy: should i wear a suit?

you: it’s a contest, not the met gala.

starboy: says the girl who’s defo trying to outshine me

you: i don’t need to try :)

starboy: wow u're so humble 🙄

you: confident, maybe

starboy: r u looking forward to seeing me

you: only because you told me you're participating. nothing more.

starboy: sure. keep telling yourself that, stargirl. i know you wanna see me so bad ;)

you: wtv helps you sleep at night, starboy.

you shake your head, fighting back a small grin that threatens to creep onto your lips. he always had this way of getting under your skin, whether you wanted him to or not.

deciding to refocus, you make your way over to the vice. but to your surprise, she isn’t standing alone.

elena is talking to someone, her hands gesturing wildly, a small laugh escaping her lips. it takes you a second to realize who’s standing there with her, but the sight makes you stop in your tracks.

jungkook.

of course, he’d show up now, looking every bit like he belonged in a spotlight. he’s dressed in a crisp black suit that, while simple, fits him too perfectly to be considered anything but deliberate.

he catches your gaze almost immediately, a smug grin curling at the corner of his lips as if he knew you’d been wondering where he was.

“prez,” he says smoothly, breaking away from elena to walk towards you.

“oh no, they’re gonna argue again,” one of elena’s friends whispers, leaning closer to her.

“let’s hope not,” elena mutters nervously, her eyes fixed on you and jungkook.

“you look... stressed.” jungkook points out.

“and you look overdressed,” you shoot back, crossing your arms as you try not to let his presence throw you off.

“i call it setting the bar high,” he quips, standing in front of you now. “wouldn’t want to disappoint, you know.” he shoots a glance to a group of girls who are already eyeing him like he's the main event.

you roll your eyes, “and i thought you were here for the writing contest, not competing for bestdressed.”

“why can’t it be both?” he shrugs, the grin never leaving his face.

you shake your head. “you’re late, starboy.”

“perfection takes time,” he replies with a casual shrug.

“is perfection in the room with us?” you raise a brow, and he pretends to look offended for a moment.

“my goodness, prez,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded.

you chuckle despite yourself, and he smiles.

“thanks for helping out, jungkook,” you say, your tone softening just a little. he looks genuinely surprised for a second before his face turns smug.

“oh?” his brows lift playfully. “am i high or did you just thank me?”

“don’t make me take it back,” you warn.

he lets out a small laugh, the sound warm. “don’t mention it. after all, i am the best,” he says, leaning back as if basking in imaginary applause.

your smile immediately fades. “you’re so full of yourself.”

as you follow jungkook to the registration desk, you notice how the girls in the corner giggle louder when he walks by. he tilts his head slightly in their direction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you’re enjoying this too much,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“what can i say? people appreciate greatness.” he shrugs, feigning modesty.

“greatness? please. you’re just tall and have nice hair. it’s not that deep.”

“you think my hair is nice?” his smirk widens, and you immediately regret your choice of words.

“focus, starboy,” you snap, pointing to the line of participants. “you’re here to submit your entry, not to boost your already inflated ego.”

“don't worry about me stargirl, i can multitask.” he flashes a grin and steps forward to sign in.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner that you were participating?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“surprise, surprise,” he says in a sing-song tone, not even glancing back.

you hum thoughtfully, narrowing your eyes at his back. “i don’t know if i’m more annoyed that you didn’t tell me or impressed that you kept a secret for once.”

“i’m full of surprises, prez,” he replies, finally turning around. “are you perhaps curious about what i wrote?"

“curious isn’t the word i’d use,” you deadpan.

as the two of you walk away from the desk, you glance at his entry form, trying to peek without being obvious. but he notices immediately.

“curious isn't the word i'd use.” he mocks you, holding the form just out of your reach.

“i was just checking if you spelled your name right.” you roll your eyes yet again.

“i’ll have you know, it’s going to win.” he says.

“oh, it’s definitely going to win something,” you say with a smirk. “most mediocre attempt, maybe.”

“keep talking,” he laughs, “but when my name is announced as the winner, i want you in the front row, clapping louder than anyone.”

“i am not a seal, you know,”

the banter continues as you both head towards the seating area, your playful digs turning heads as others watch the dynamic between the class president and the self proclaimed starboy.

the chatter in the room quiets down as the head of the event steps forward, holding a small glass bowl filled with folded slips of paper. “to kick off the contest,” she announces, her voice echoing slightly in the room, “we’ll randomly select one of our participants to read their submission aloud.”

a murmur spreads through the crowd. your eyes flick to jungkook, who leans back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be unbothered. but the way his posture stiffens as the name is drawn doesn’t escape you.

“jeon jungkook.”

you swear you see his confidence falter for just a split second, his eyes widening ever so slightly before he quickly recovers

“well, well,” you say, unable to resist a jab. “didn’t think the universe would humble you this quickly.”

“humble me?” he scoffs, standing up and dusting off his pants as if preparing for a performance. “please. this is nothing.”

the crowd shifts, a few participants nudging him towards the makeshift stage at the front. he lets out a dramatic sigh, walking forward with a nonchalance that feels just a little too forced.

“don’t trip,” you call out, earning a few chuckles from the students around you.

jungkook turns just enough to throw a glance your way, his eyes glinting. “enjoy the show, prez.”

as he steps up to the mic, the room falls into an expectant hush, the silence settling over everyone. jungkook takes his entry, he scans the words, his expression unreadable, before finally beginning to read.

“the story,” he starts, his voice steady yet soft, the kind that makes everyone lean in just a little closer. “it’s about… how one person can change everything, even if they don’t know it.”

he takes a pause, eyes scanning the room briefly before settling somewhere in the distance, as though he’s speaking to a ghost only he can see.

“she’s not like the sun, burning too bright for anyone to hold,” he begins, his voice growing quieter, more deliberate. “she’s more like the moon.. steady, always there even when you can’t see her. the kind of light that keeps you grounded on the darkest nights.”

you hear a few soft sighs from the crowd, and you can’t tell if they’re swooning or genuinely moved. you shift in your seat.

“she’s… not perfect,” he continues, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “but that’s what makes her real. she’s messy, stubborn, maybe even a little mean—” there’s a flicker of amusement in his tone, “—but somehow, she’s still the most beautiful thing i’ve ever known.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know why. it’s just words, you tell yourself. just another story for the contest. but the way he says them makes your stomach twist.

“she doesn’t know,” jungkook says, quieter now, almost like a confession. “she doesn’t know how much space she takes up in my universe. how, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart, she stays constant. the one thing i never want to lose.”

the silence in the room is deafening. you can feel your heart thudding against your ribs.

his voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of vulnerability that catches you off guard. the story he weaves is vivid and poetic, describing a brilliant, infuriating force of nature who constantly challenges and inspires him.

“she’s impossible to ignore,” he says, his eyes scanning the room but never quite meeting yours. “like a star in the night sky, guiding but distant, always just out of reach.”

his eyes finally meet yours.

“she's my universe.”

your heart stutters.

is this about—

the applause is immediate, loud and thunderous. jungkook gives a small bow, his usual smirk creeping back into place as he steps down from the stage. but for a split second, as he glances your way, you think you catch something else in his expression; something raw, something different.

“woah,” elena whispers beside you, nudging your arm. “that was… something.”

“yeah,” you murmur, but your voice sounds far away, your mind still caught on his words. “definitely something..”

note: took me a while becuz I AM NOT POETIC— 😓 but anyway lol do u guys think he could win? 🫢

📜 series taglist: @rrosiitas

📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

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[subrosasteath]

Me (lovingly) at all the people who fully believed Coiny went back to normal this episode

Like... Okay let's break this down. Break down beneath the cut as it's long! Spoilers for BFDIA 19.

The first shot of the episode is Coiny hiding his face at the bottom of the stairs. It's obviously supposed to set up how he's feeling this episode, although later he plays it off as a joke, saying he was "napping" and moving right into being over dramatic about missing Cake at Stake. If you believe him, this set up now becomes a joke.

If you don't this set up now becomes a way to show the audience how he's feeling inside, as he doesn't seem to want to outright say or show any animosity towards Pin, especially in front of the other contests. Pin even expresses confusion the first time they talk because the first thing Coiny does is compliment her - saying "nice find!" about the new host. The fact they make her look confused at all is a hint in and of itself that we should be doubting how Coiny's acting right now - yes, it also works for her character, as she obviously didn't expect him to want to positively interact with her, but the emphasis on the confusion should nudge the viewers to think "hey.. wait a minute..."

Another quick thing - Tennis ball says Coiny's been "isolating in the tower for a while now", not specifying how long, meaning it's possibly Coiny's been hiding out in there for much longer than "an afternoon nap" as he says.

Pin and Coiny don't interact again until the super market gag. When Coiny suggests the super market, and Pin accuses him of trying to trick her, Coiny says "would I ever lie to you?" to which Pin says "Yeah." Meaning It's possible Pin suspects Coiny of lying about how he feels. This is another hint to the audience - Pin is telling us that Coiny can be a liar and a trickster sometimes, and that we can't take everything he says at face value (Eg, How long was that afternoon nap, buddy?). This can also just be seen as a reference to the fact Coiny is a mischief maker, again, making it easy to write it off as him being his "normal self".

Pin goes in anyway - this could be seen as two things: Either she doesn't care if it's a trick or not (implying she doesn't view Coiny as a threat) or she knows it could be a trick, but seeing as he's not being antagonistic towards her so far, decides to trust him anyway (Coiny has never done Pin wrong before, why would he now?)

But Why? Why would Coiny offer Pin a huge giant super market?

I think It's possible he wanted to show her that he can still be helpful. They don't have to be allies, but he's still useful, and getting rid of him would be getting rid of a huge resource of support in the games. He wants Pin to see the value in him, so he offers her everything he can. Look, we don't have to be enemies! He's trying to convince her not to hurt him again, because look at everything he can give her! Isn't it worth it? ...Isn't it?

Or, it's possible he was setting her up, so that he could knock her down later. A taste of her own medicine, if you will. Coiny expected Pin to buy at least 2 things, both of which she'd need for her basket, only for him to swoop in and steal them from her after, putting them in his own basket and possibly winning the challenge. He wanted Pin to feel the betrayal. A metaphorical way of pushing her off the platform. A way to say See, this is how it felt, but now we're even and you understand me, so we can go back to normal, right?

I'm excited for what happens next episode - I wonder if we'll get a Coiny break down before or after Pin's inevitable elimination.

[askoverkill]

entirely unrelated to this but i was going to run my own AU thing in a similar style to yours, with asks giving input, but my AU actually has... combat. and i was wondering if you would have any suggestion as to how i would handle that to be the right balance of not-tedious (actually a little tedious it IS isat) but also not-nonexistent

// awesome! I love to hear people are making more projects. We need more works in the world. I hope you have fun 💖

// firstly, I want to talk about interaction. Using online feedback as a feature in the story has its ups and downs. The best advice I can give is tell the story YOU want to tell first most.

// If you need to send your own asks or post as a post instead, do so! It's super cool to get people to be creative and push the story in ways you'd never expect, it's rewarding and creative for both sides in the collaboration BUT ultimately, you are the director of the story.

// try to give every post a purpose. If you can fit more than one, the better. Does the post have a joke? Is it progressing the plot? Is there a fun character interaction? If it doesn't have anything, rethink your approach to it. Sometimes a post HAS to be set up for a later scene, but try to make it entertaining or introspective or something in addition.

(I'm struggling with this as we repeat plot beats. As a timeloop story, repetition is necessary to give what DOES change have importance. I'm still figuring out what's the best approach and how much to change each loop.)

Formatting: find a work flow that works best for you! I'm used to boring repetition and edits so Im fine making my blog so image heavy like this. Text works fine!!!! What matters the most is readability and your convince! Stories are already a LOT of work, don't give yourself anything more than necessary!

// PACE yourself. It's not a contest and you are doing this for free and for fun. If you're not feeling up to it, don't make anything. Breaks are a part of the process. I'm mega ADHD hyperfixating distraction coping and I AM NOT a good example of productivity. Don't judge yourself for your output. Focus on having fun and interacting with others.

// OK General askblog advice aside, now to focus on your actual question. It'd really depend on what you're comfortable with and the level of interaction you want for the story.

// it's important to remember this is a completely different format and medium than a video game. If you tried to make it into a video game you're going to fail. A fight in-game will have a hundred little inputs within minutes while an askblog takes IRL time between posts and asks.

// Polls have a minimum of 24 hours so they're a bit inconvenient for quick engagement like with askblogs let alone fights! If you really need fights, then simplify a single turn into an ask? A whole fight? Maybe spin a wheel or flip a coin? Maybe, since it's an ask format, have fans suggest outcomes and pick what's the most entertaining?

// alternatively, skip combat and just have it happen between posts. You've got a ton of options, and I'm sure there's way more I hadn't considered.

// work with what you've got and don't be afraid to simplify or ask for more advice. If anyone else has suggestions, feel free to shoot some here! Best wishes! 👌

[bambi-kinos]

“He encouraged Paul's revealed preference for enjoying feminization by putting him in the position of being John's girlfriend/wife, something John likely picked up on when Paul fed him toast as a teenager. Many of Paul's sexual habits and needs were shaped and fostered by John into something that complimented his own.”

This is such a good insight from your recent analysis and something I had sort of noticed about John and Paul but couldn’t pinpoint, which you’ve worded so wonderfully. I always thought it seemed as though John encouraged a more feminine/ domestic side to Paul which Paul might have been reluctant to express otherwise (due to Looking Like That), though I think Paul was actually very happy in more “feminine” roles. I wonder if John coaxed it out of him during their sexual encounters and then it manifested into their everyday dynamic.

It's part of John's Thing where he sees into people. No wonder he believed mind reading and ESP were real because John is incredibly good at reading people and divining their motives and intent.

I keep coming back to the toast anecdote because it's so revealing and also relatable. Feeding your boyfriend something while you try to convince him to do something he isn't sure about is very much a girlfriend tactic. I've done it myself and I bet other ladies have too. Paul instinctively knew how to maneuver John which is interesting in of itself but he also instinctively used feminine coded tactics. Contrast this to Pete Shotton who was just some guy and used the tools available to him to put John in his place: he would take swings at John and even threatened to crush his glasses at one point when John was taking a joke too far about a schoolboy crush Pete had when they were kids. John himself admired this about Pete and later said that he respected Pete immensely for standing toe to toe with him and not letting John roll him.

But Paul didn't do that. He used feminine coded tactics with John from the start, even with the guitar tuner and the conferring over strings and chords. He wasn't in your face and didn't try standing toe to toe with John, after the solo song performance of "Twenty Flight Rock" to establish his credentials he instead sat down with John and they talked. No big confrontation and no contest of wills. To quote Pete Shotton again "they circled each other like cats" so clearly there was mutual interest but Paul proved his worth by showing what an asset he was. He was never interested in blatant shows of authority. It's just such a completely different presentation than what was typical and expected from teen boys at the time...and John picked up on it.

Some of this is Paul being a more balanced person in general and also just more experienced with the reality of the world. Mary passed away and the chores of the house became more evenly split between Jim, Paul, and Mike while the aunts would visit often to take care of the heavier jobs. But it's also clear where John and Paul's personal divisions and interests lay. Paul could definitely be rambunctious and gross (like the newspaper shitting story...lmaoooo) so he did know how to be gross with the boys when he wanted to be. But there was such an intensely domestic side of him that he wanted to keep hidden from the rest of the world. It couldn't help peeking out from time to time. John remarked once that "Paul and I know each other in a lot of different ways that people don't know about" (paraphrasing) and this must have been one of the things John was referring to.

Paul valued and cherished domestic life and he doted on John when he could. I think back a lot to this excerpt from The Lyrics (hat tip to @dovetailjoints for picking up on it back in the day) about Johnny Gentle and Paul's realization that you can do anything on tour.

Like even just from this quote, the toast thing, Pau's domesticity fetish (and everything is sex for him so obviously it's kinky roleplay!) and then Paul's general behavior, you can tell something going on but then we got THIS JEWEL of a confirmation:

Paul liked being domestic and he liked taking care of John I just!!!! He wanted to be John's wife! He wanted to be Mrs. Lennon so fucking badly! God! And it must have gone exactly as you say, John encouraged it during their sex stuff and then Paul liked it so much that he did this.

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[eringobragh420]

✧˚ · . circles.

➔ Pairing — Gunther ❤︎ f!Reader ➔ Summary — Gunther and his longtime friend finally make their fantasies a reality. ➔ Word Count — 3.2k ➔ Warnings — NSFW. Wall sex, semi-public, dirty talk, fingering, super minor blood, cum 18+ ➔ Notes — Dedicated to the Gunther lovers, especially the ones who go into this not liking him and come out wondering wtf they were thinking 🤷‍♀️ ➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here! ➔ Requested By — @eboni-napalm Thank you so much for your patience and your awesome idea! Happy Birthday! ➔ MASTERLIST

if you enjoy my writing, please consider donating toward my IVF journey!

She watched on one of many TVs backstage as Damian Priest defended his title against Gunther. Some days she couldn’t believe she and Gunther were in WWE at all, on the main roster no less, but then she saw him in the ring, and she saw exactly what everybody else saw: a superstar. Of course, she’d known how special he was for years beforehand, having come up with him in NXT UK, so it was really no surprise to see him in a match competing for the World Heavyweight Championship. And her idolization had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she may or may not have had a crush on the man since the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him. It didn’t. Really.

The two gigantic men in the ring, each going pound for pound, exchanged chops, and she couldn’t avoid even the tiniest reaction every time Gunther was on the receiving end. These men, at least some of them, had to be masochists. She was a wrestler, yes, and there was hardly ever a contest that was pain-free, but she never went into it wanting to be hurt. When these men were chopped or suplexed or Pedigree’d, she swore she saw their eyes dazzle, some of them even smiled or laughed. And was she really thinking about whether or not Gunther was a fan of pain while standing amongst dozens of other people watching the same match?

She gasped along with everyone else when Priest rolled Gunther onto his back—I could just ride him right there … I bet he’d forget about losing—and laid over him for the pin. A collective hush fell over the group, however, upon witnessing Finn Bálor’s betrayal, which consequently kept Gunther in the match. Her body was absolutely thrumming during the next sequence, watching with rounded eyes as Priest tried twice to get at Finn before Gunther locked in the chokehold. She was the loudest one cheering when the Ring General was declared the winner, and the new World Heavyweight Champion. Smirking, she shook her head as Gunther snatched the golden title from the ref and held it in the air, and she could tell he was emotional, but he did well hiding it, playing the perfect heel to the perfect end to a kind of perfect night—at least for her, she hadn’t much interest in the Cody versus Solo match. 

She started to say goodbye to those around her, hugging a few, intricate handshakes with others, well wishes to everyone. She gathered her purse and suitcase-on-wheels, turned, and made it only a few steps before pausing. Gunther was exiting Gorilla position, blue Ring General jacket on—he really needs to wear the blue more often—gilded title adorning his waist, and he was headed right for her. How the hell long had it taken her to say goodbye? She looked behind her to see who he might actually be targeting, but everyone had dispersed. When she turned back around, Gunther was only a few feet from her, his eyes rising and falling over her thin tank top, pleated skirt, and Nike sneakers, and her brain was inundated with every memory she had of the Austrian, like she was dying and her entire life was flashing before her eyes. The crush she may or may not have had blossomed within her, growing somehow from the deep, dark, secret place she’d buried it long ago. Entombing these inappropriate and, she assumed, unrequited, feelings for a coworker had allowed her to function like a normal human, and not a lovesick schoolgirl.

“What do you think?” he asked, or shouted, slapping the title against his abs, and she almost, almost, averted her gaze to look, but she caught herself at the very last second. She focused on the blood spatter on his cheek and jaw.

Blood?

There was a sizzling in the ether, a hum almost, like the sound of current zooming through a power line, and she felt it in her very core. She could smell him now, the closer he came, and his scent had to be pheromonal, because her panties were suddenly soaked and her legs felt heavy. Her arms and hands were numb, so it was quite confusing for her to watch her arm rise of its own volition, hand reaching for Gunther, and she screamed for him to move or slap her hand away, but no sound came out and her lips never moved. Her hand kept lifting until it came in contact with a spot of blood on his chiseled jawline, and now she had sensation in her fingertips, but still no control.

“Are you okay?” she asked, absolutely no recollection of planning to say anything at all.

“You’re worried about me,” he said loudly, grinning, boasting his sexy accent. Those goddamn dimples sank into his cheeks, and his smile, even when he was being evil on the microphone, was genuine and happy, and wait just a damn minute …

Her lips pursed. “Congratulations,” she deadpanned, finally in control of her hand, which she pulled from his face. She glanced at the vermillion liquid on her thumb before idly smearing it on her light-colored tank top, treating it like any other unwanted substance. She looked back up at him, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now a blazing inferno and zeroed in on the stain on her shirt just below her breasts. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She spun on her heels, twirled her suitcase on its wheels, and she started off in the opposite direction. He might have been just teasing, and that was the most likely scenario, but that didn’t make her feel any less embarrassed. She’d shown genuine concern for him, and he’d cracked a joke about her being worried? It didn’t matter that he was correct—he didn’t have to be a dick about it. 

Unfortunately for her, she had no idea where the exit was in this direction, and she couldn’t very well ask someone while on her angry walk-away, so she stuck her chin in the air and continued on, confidently taking a turn down the next hallway. Her pace slowed then. This concourse was dark save for the light from the corridor that T’d at the end. And she didn’t see an exit sign. 

“Shit,” she whispered. 

A barely audible thud sounded behind her, and she spun around, releasing the handle of her suitcase, instantly hoping for an employee or maybe someone who was also lost. He was mostly a silhouette, but she knew exactly who it was—she was familiar with his size and the haircut and even his squared shoulders under the Ring General jacket—but for a new reason. His scent. It was the sour aroma of sweat, the copper tinge of blood, and tiny remnants of whatever body wash he’d used recently. She inhaled as much as she could, inflating her lungs until they nearly burst, packing them full of her new favorite flavor, and she felt a little dizzy. The man was a goddamn vape pen.

She attempted to recover, “I think I made a wrong—” 

Gunther wrapped a long, strong arm around her middle and lifted her in the air with maybe a little too much vigor—she saw the top of his head for the first time in real life before gravity snatched her and yanked her back to earth. Gunther’s arm tightened around her, halting her progress, crushing their chests together, and she intuitively wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt the outline of the World Heavyweight Championship title belt between her legs and underneath the surprisingly soft fabric of the blue jacket. She clutched at the lapels to steady herself upon landing back in his arm—because it had been so fucking easy for him to nearly launch her into space and catch her with only one damn arm.

Their eyes met, and their noses were brushing, and they were passing oxygen back and forth between them. She’d never been this close to him before, not like this, and his scent was much stronger now. Fuck, she’d waited so long for this, but here? Now? His body was firm, muscles dense, and for some reason, this Austrian Adonis was wholly enchanted by her. So yes—here. Now.

“Gunther—” she whispered, having no idea where this sentence would end up.

“You didn’t answer me,” he cut her off. She blinked at him. “I asked you what you think.” Sometimes his THs came out as Fs and it was the most endearing quirk in the world. He nodded at the title, nestled in the comforting embrace of his jacket and her thighs, and they both cast their eyes downward. She swallowed, looking at her skirt, remembered she was wearing a skirt, and also the opulent title that was only a few inches from an aching, soaking pussy.

“I’m happy for you,” she whispered, hands still fisted in his jacket.

“No,” he growled, kicking her suitcase out of his way with a blue boot. Her grip tightened and her thighs clenched as he pressed her against the nearest wall, his free hand cupping the back of her head as a shield. “I’m only gonna ask you … one more time,” he said, his eyes burning a hole through her very soul, and his hand came out from behind her to hold his finger up. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he tilted his head. She gulped down absolutely nothing, and the hallway was so quiet that the action was actually audible. “So no lying,” he advised, eyebrows lifting. His face closed the space between them, and she couldn’t regulate her breathing as it came out in hot puffs of desperation. “What … do you think?”

Boy, was she done thinking. “Well …” she trailed off, fingers releasing the lapels of his jacket so she could flatten her palms on his chest. She licked her lips, massaging the hard planes of his pecs, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. His eyes darted down to watch. “I think you look like a fucking champion,” she murmured. If he wanted to play a game … let’s play a game. Her thighs tightened as she locked her ankles behind him, spine straightening. Her hand slithered up his neck to his incredible jaw where she gently clutched his chin between her forefinger and thumb so she could turn his face slightly away from her, freeing the route to his ear. Smirking, she pressed her lips to his lobe, and his arm still around her middle tensed. “And I think you look like a champion I’d like to fuck,” she purred, punctuating her statement by biting the lobe and sucking it into her searing mouth.

Gunther leaned back, stealing his ear from her, and he then pressed their foreheads together. “Yeah?” he taunted. She nodded, their noses grazing. “You wanna fuck the champion?”

“For so long,” she sighed, practically clawing at the jacket. She glanced down, their faces mashed together, a memory slapping her in the brain. She opened the garment and raked her nails down his bare chest, over the marks of Damian’s chops, and it wasn’t the hardest she could go, but his groan was primal, and she knew the pressure was just right. “You should know,” she went on, “if you’ve been watching me like you say you have.”

“Oh, I’ve been watching,” Gunther assured her. His hands were under her arms and he pressed her into the wall, locking eyes with her before he released his grip on her. She kept her shoulder blades and arms flat against the wall, back straight, legs nice and tight around Gunther’s waist, and she was perfectly stable without his assistance. He leaned back, and this new position presented him with the chance to leer at her, gaze inspecting every inch of her, and he leisurely began to lift her shirt. His brows rose and his mouth opened when he came to a barely-there built-in bra. “Look at you,” he said. “You don’t even bother, do you?” 

She regarded him with a wicked smirk, half his face a shadow, and she couldn’t fight the urge to roll her hips against him. The title didn’t feel particularly good when pressed to her pussy, but the thought of humping it, covering it with her juices, was something she never thought would turn her on. “Maybe I hoped you would be looking,” she whispered. He slid the bra, which was basically just thin fabric and elastic, torturously slowly up over her breasts where it stayed, and his eyes met hers once more.

“This is what you want?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. She nodded, lost in his murky eyes. “Say it,” he commanded, and there was no mistaking that tone.

She gripped his shoulders and pulled herself against him, her newly exposed nipples making contact with his jacket and his smooth chest. “I want you to fuck me, Gunther,” she told him, lips massaging his thin ones. Her eyes passed back and forth between his, and she knew he needed something else, just a little bit more. “Think you can handle that?”

He smashed her between himself and the wall, his lips finally covering hers, and the desperate moans from both their throats would have been embarrassing for them had anyone else heard them. Her hand on the back of his shaved head was an interesting level of eroticism, and he must have agreed, if his tongue in her mouth was any indication. She felt him unstrap the belt, and he returned one arm around her so he could lift her off the front of it, then he dropped it to the floor. Never once did his lips leave hers or even stop moving.

He repositioned her lower on his body this time, throwing his jacket around her legs, and she gasped, grip sliding from his shoulders back to the lapels as he ground his impressive manhood on her soaking panties. His hand slithered along her thigh, finger dipping under the side of the garment, which he then lifted away from her throbbing pussy. Her eyes were slits as his thumb slid along her dripping folds, relentlessly teasing her before it finally sank within and began massaging the slippery nub. His straining cock was still pressed against her, and if he didn’t fuck her now, she knew for sure they’d be caught. People were still passing by the end of the hallway they’d come from. Had anyone seen them enter? Had anyone seen them not leave?

“Please,” she whispered, not sure how long she would survive without his cock inside her.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he mumbled, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arched and she slammed her hips into his thumb. “You wanna fuck the champion, you have to beg the champion.”

“Please,” she repeated, and somewhere along the way she’d lost the upper hand. Or … had she ever really had it?

“Please what?” he pressed. “Hmm?” He was on her neck now, all teeth and tongue and lips, and her eyes rolled back. 

“Please fuck me,” she begged, hand cradling his neck. “Please?”

“Fuck,” Gunther whispered. 

There was brief movement, and suddenly, the thick head of his dick poked at her hole, and she cried out. Gunther was quick to cover her mouth with his hand, holding it there as his other hand gripped her hip, supporting her weight and sinking her down onto his cock. She continued to squeal, muffled by his hand, until he was buried to the hilt inside her, and then she was breathing in and out quickly through her nostrils. She rolled her hips, sucking him deeper, and she groaned this time. As he started to slowly fuck her, she reached up to squeeze his meaty forearm, opposite hand fisting in his jacket again. He picked up speed, rocking her body up and down on the wall, and she couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Was she dreaming? That’d be cruel.

“You’re taking me so well,” Gunther praised, and she whined, squirming in his embrace. “This pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it?” 

She nodded, a stifled yes caged in her throat. She wouldn't argue the point even if she could. Her pussy was full, fuller than it ever had been, wetter, and she felt her orgasm building, but that couldn’t be right because no man had ever made her cum simply by penetration alone. Her entire being was vibrating with the quickness of Gunther’s pumps, still grasping his forearm and jacket, holding on for dear life and that ever elusive orgasm-that-she-wasn’t-responsible-for.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbled into her ear. She almost wilted in his possession, but if her body slacked even a little bit, Gunther’s cock would never again find that spot inside her. 

“Please,” she begged. “Please … I’m gonna cum.”

“All over my cock, dirty girl,” he panted. Had someone else called her a dirty girl, she might have laughed at them, but with Gunther’s accent and his tone and just the fucking breathlessness loaded her orgasm from 28% to 99%. “So your pussy will get even tighter,” he went on, “so you can make the champion cum.”

She screamed, a literal scream, and Gunther squeezed her mouth. She did exactly as she was told, clenching around his dick as she came for the first time by a dick, body shuddering while she rode the waves of ecstasy. She was able to experience most of it before Gunther grunted, pulling out with a nasty pop, and he set her carefully back on her feet.

“Down on your knees, dirty girl,” he said, his hand lifting from her mouth. 

She licked her lips, tasting him, and she slowly descended to her knees, which she had to spread to avoid putting any weight on the belt Gunther had discarded earlier, hands sliding down his chest and abs as she went. He jerked his glistening cock over her face, leering at her, and she grasped his thighs. Every instinct told her to stick her tongue out, and what kind of human would she be if she didn’t follow her instincts? He placed his hand on the top of her head seconds before he launched cum on her tongue and across her face, rope after rope, and it was salty and warm and her new new favorite flavor. She couldn’t read the expression on his face anymore as he used his thumb to slide all the cum from her skin into her mouth. She happily accepted all of it, sucking his thumb and cock clean for good measure. When he finished, he tucked himself back into his trunks and held his hand out. She almost placed her hand in it. Almost. At the last second, she reached between her knees for the belt and held it up for him. His chest puffed out as he accepted it from her, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when he held his other hand out for her.

“We should do that again,” Gunther said.

She grinned, her cheeks getting hot, and she pulled her top back down. “Call me when you win another championship,” she winked.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

simply lilac outtakes: dodo & minta

previous - backdated to round two eliminations

DODO: How did it go?

ARAMINTA: As these things do, I suppose. I doubt that anyone leaving was surprised.

DODO: Did you want to talk?

ARAMINTA: I do. But I don’t know how to word what I’d like to say.

DODO: You could try? And if I don’t understand something, I’ll ask?

ARAMINTA: It’s the show. It’s making me feel bad about myself.

ARAMINTA: I should be so happy. And when I’m not dwelling on things too much, I am. But then I think of all the different contestants, about half a dozen of who seem like they would be so well suited to Lilac, and then everyone else who you could have been happy with instead of me. And I wonder, did you choose wrongly? For yourself, I mean.

DODO: Well, I don’t wonder that.

ARAMINTA: But I do.

DODO: I wish that you wouldn’t.

ARAMINTA: So do I. But I don’t know how to stop.

DODO: But you’re the one who’s out of my league.

ARAMINTA: What?

DODO: What do you mean, ‘what’?

ARAMINTA: I just can’t understand how you could ever think that way.

DODO: Well that makes two of us. I’ve been overshadowed by my brother my whole life. And look at how messed up I’ve been since we got back.

ARAMINTA: Only due to trauma, and you never got a break from it the way we did with the rotations. And Leo’s not one tenth of the person that you are. Sorry, I know that he has his qualities. But he’s so attention-seeking and insecure that he has to try and insert himself into everything - even on your show! 

DODO: [chuckle] He does do that, yeah.

ARAMINTA: You’re confident and generous and selfless enough to share the spotlight with others. Look at how you play football. You know when to take a shot at goal - and when to pass the ball and set up a teammate who’s in a better position. Leo couldn’t spell ‘team’ without a ‘me.’

DODO: ‘Couldn’t spell ‘team’ without a ‘me?’ I’m so saving that for another day.

DODO: Okay, so I understand how you could feel considering - well, just look at my past BCs. And I know how things were with your father. Just because for some plumbed up reason he was incapable of loving you, it doesn’t mean that no one else is.

ARAMINTA: I know.

DODO: But knowing something isn’t the same as believing it, I guess?

ARAMINTA: No. It’s not.

DODO: I know that my mother loves me. And we have a good relationship. But Leo always had her attention growing up. And that was bad enough. I can’t imagine how much things with your father messed with your head. Do you realise how in light of that, it was so brave for you to even apply for the show? To put yourself out there and still have hope that things might work out?

ARAMINTA: I - admittedly - never had much hope. Mostly I wanted to break out of my comfort zone, perhaps learn something about myself, and to make some new friends.

DODO: And you did all those things, and more. And I definitely could have been more discreet.

ARAMINTA: We didn’t have a lot of privacy. And you were just doing your job.

DODO: No, I definitely could have.

ARAMINTA: You had all the decision making power. Well, Leo had all the decision making power. But it’s only through Lilac that I’m beginning to understand just how much stress and pressure that can bring, knowing that the decisions you make could directly impact the happiness of others, or that you would make the wrong choice.

DODO: Yeah, that wasn’t fun. But I was only worried that I would hurt other people. I never worried about choosing you - don’t you see? 

ARAMINTA: I am trying.

DODO: It wasn’t about passion and romance - well, not exclusively. It was about friendship and trust, and who I could see myself with beyond the initial spark. Because that can wax and wane, you know? [dryly] Or so I’ve been told.

ARAMINTA: [weak chuckle] So far I’ve yet to perceive that from you, yes.

DODO: It was about someone who saw and accepted my flaws, and who doesn’t judge me for them but who also doesn’t let me get away with them either - and who will give me the support and space to grow. Someone who’s always striving to be the best version of herself, so that I’m encouraged to do the same too. Someone who I can see the best version of myself in.

DODO: I guess I’ve always wanted to fall in love with my best friend. And now I’ve made a best friend, and she’s also the love of my life.

ARAMINTA: I - thank you. I needed to hear that.

DODO: Anytime.

ARAMINTA: I was wondering if - it’s not that you’re unaffectionate towards me. Lilac’s always joking about just how affectionate you are. But I don’t think there’s such a thing as being told too often for me.

DODO: Oh, challenge accepted. [...] You know, this gorgeous blonde once told me that I gave great hugs.

ARAMINTA: Oh, did she now?

ARAMINTA: I saw that these days, the ‘WowWow Hut’ is functioning as a vacation rental. And what I’m about to suggest may sound strange, but I was wondering if we could go back? Perhaps it may help to make it feel more like it’s ours.

DODO: Or we could make some new Sulani memories while we’re there.

ARAMINTA: I would like that. [...] Could I sit on your knee?

DODO: There’s always space on my knee for you.

ARAMINTA: I think that I should go and see the onset counselor.

DODO: I think that’s a great idea.

ARAMINTA: If I like them, would you want to make an appointment too?

DODO: Yeah, I would.

DODO: Hey, did you know that Watcher Ana once gave me the UNFLIRTY trait?

[Both laugh]

ty @akitasimblr as always for dodo harper and for your help with this!

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,9k words)

Author's note: I hope you like this one too. Don't be shy to add your feedback :)

If you were in paradise with good company and had to resist sex, could you?

We found the hottest, horniest, commitment-phobic singles and gave them what they think is the most exotic and erotic summer of their lives.

Only to reveal that one thing is off the menu is sex.

At stake is a prize of $200,000 which will plummet if they get naughty. The question is, in a world without sex, will they form deeper and more meaningful connections?

Or will the temptation be too hot to handle?

-

"I'm here!" Han announces his arrival and shouts it toward the beach.

Instead of feeling nervous, he feels good to be the first one to enter the villa. At least this way, he wouldn't feel intimidated when he sees people who are more good-looking than him.

There's not much to do with no one to interact with, he grabs one of the cocktails served on the small round table and takes a sip.

He turns the other way, sipping his cocktail while looking at the beautiful view of the sea that goes as far as his eyes can see.

"Oh, it's so gorgeous here," he says with a delightful sigh.

Little did he know, that's not the only gorgeous thing he'll see today.

-

HAN: I'm charming 24/7, that's for sure [laughs] Girls often say they like my smile [brightly smiles] and I won't disagree with that [chuckles] I'm all about a good chat, I'm good listener. I gather pieces of information, I use them at the right time, and [makes shooting gesture] That's part of the secret.

-

Han has to squint his eyes against the blinding sunlight and see two girls coming his way. He sips his drink to fuel his confidence and prepares himself to make a good first impression.

"Wow. You girls look amazing!" Han says out of wonder, not hesitating to let his thoughts out.

He hates to see women objectively but it's hard not to. Not when they're dressed in something that leaves so little to the imagination.

"We can say the same about you," The taller one says, talking as if she's half moaning.

"I'm Mikaela," she introduces herself, not hesitating to pull him into a hug.

Mikaela has shiny dark hair, plump lips, and a height he doesn't have, yet it's not going to stop him from pursuing her.

But it's too early to settle down yet. He turns to the other girl who's more his height and gives her a quick hug.

"I'm Han," he introduces his name first.

"I'm Nya," she replies.

Nya's brown skin glows under the sun and when she smiles, she shows her perfect white teeth.

"Can we drink this?" She asks in a thick British accent.

Stunned by how attractive the girls are, Han forgets about making a good, first impression. He hurriedly hands the drinks over to the girls and proposes a toast.

They're clinking their glasses against each other and take a sip at the same time.

"So, Han, what is your type?" Mikaela asks.

It may seem like a harmless question but it's actually not, she wants him to choose between the two of them. He needs to be careful with what he says if he wants to please them.

"I don't really have a type... but uh... I like eyes, gorgeous eyes," he says.

They nod at you, not quite figuring out what he says by that. He comes up with something to amuse them both, "I like a gorgeous smile too and you both have that."

That works wonderfully as they're smiling and laughing at his answer.

"Cheers to that!" Mikaela says, clinking her glass with his.

"I think the three of us can do something while we wait for the others," Nya suggests an idea.

An idea that gives Han a glimpse of what her personality is. Don't get him wrong, he likes girls who know how to have fun, he just doesn't expect it coming from Nya.

"Yeah? What do you have in mind?" Han playfully dares her.

Nya sips her drink to avoid answering his question then breaks into a series of giggles.

Sadly, the threesome must end as the second male guest enters the villa.

Han would be lying if he said he was not the slightest bit intimidated. Not only he doesn't have his height, but he also doesn't have that Greek God-like body and facial hair that enhances his masculinity.

"How are you doing, man?" He asks Han who's gobsmacked by how tall he is as he stands next to him.

"Good, good," he answers, exchanging a quick hug with him.

He can see honey dripping from Nya's eyes as she looks at the new guy, "What is your name?"

"Rio," he answers.

"Where are you from, Rio?" Mikaela asks, holding her glass close to her lips.

"I'm from Brazil," he answers, taking a drink for himself.

Mikaela giggles even though there's nothing funny about what he says. She fixes her hair as she says, "Rio, you are so gorgeous."

It feels like Han has become invisible to everyone. He quietly sips his drink and tries not to despair. There are more to come and who knows? He'll find someone more suitable to him, more of his type.

Han has to be patient as two more male guests enter the villa, successfully making his confidence shrink.

He bursts into laughter as he's standing between Peyton and Finn like two gorgeous, white pillars of a Greek temple.

And as if that's not enough, the female guest who just entered is also tall.

"Fuck. I'm so small, it's a joke," he says, trying to lighten up his mood by making a fool out of himself.

The boys around him laugh at his joke and almost miss out on the new girl's introduction.

"I'm Sawyer," she says with a cute smile.

"So, Sawyer, what is your type?" Nya asks, going straight to the point.

Han stands up straight and funnily, the other guys are lining up so Sawyer can take a good look at them. He stands on his tiptoes to match the other's heights, earning good laughs from the girls.

"Well, let's say I'm looking more into their personality..." her answer gets cut off as the last male guest enters the scene.

He looks like a textbook bad boy with long, brown hair and tattoos on his body, he has that smoldering eyes that certainly does thing to the girls as he takes all of their attention away.

Confidently, he walks around introducing himself to the girls, kissing them on the cheeks, and keeps his introduction short by only telling his name, "Asher."

So far, no one has caught his eyes or struck his fancy, he doesn't find the sparks he usually gets when he sees someone he likes.

He can only hold onto the hope that he'll find what he's looking for on the last two female guests.

On the other hand, he can't help but expect disappointment and...

"Oh, they're too fit!" Sawyer cutely gasps.

Han glances up from his drink to see what she's fussing about and the boys are howling in reaction to girls walking into the villa.

-

HAN: Oh, we're so spoiled for choice [laughs]

-

It's kind of unfair that they make you enter the villa with someone as gorgeous as Avery.

Except for the dark brown, she looks like the Malibu Barbie. She has perfect skin, that hourglass body figure, and a nice smile. Meanwhile, you look like a long-forgotten, doodled-on Barbie with tattoos scattered across your body.

"Are you nervous?" She asks with an Australian accent.

She looks so cute as she nervously giggles, "Not really," you answer.

It's everyone there who should be nervous because they haven't seen her. You're not jealous, if anything, you want to date her for yourself.

"Should we hold hands?" She offers her hand to you.

You look around at the staff preparing your entrance to the villa, "I'm not sure..."

Your words are trailing off as the staff gives the cute for both of you to start walking into the villa.

To your surprise, you don't feel nervous at all. You feel excited to meet a lot more attractive people and can't wait to know them.

You turn your head and see Avery, looking not as nervous as she seemed to be earlier.

She looks gorgeous with the sun hits her eyes, showing off her beautiful green eyes with a tint of brown in the middle.

It's kind of expected that she's catching all the attention and the boys seem to be curious about Avery that they just can't take their eyes off of her.

"I'm Avery, hi," she introduces herself.

She makes eyes with everyone and Han returns the eye contact with a wide smile on his face.

"Do you fancy anyone, Avery?" Nya asks, being the one that leads the conversation again.

Avery looks at the boys with a smile dancing on her face, Sligh nodding when her eyes hover between Han and Asher.

"Yeah..." she answers then looks away to sip her drink.

"And how about you?" Nya asks.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you quietly grab a drink for yourself. You hold your drink in your hand as you answer, "Honestly, I fancy everyone here."

You look at Nya and continue talking, "I go both ways so bring 'em all in, I guess?" you say with a sly smirk.

Nya seems amused by your answer, "I like that, girl!" She says, clinking her glass with you after.

"Please, save some for us," Rio playfully says.

You nonchalantly shrug and say, "I don't mind sharing."

You secretly steal a few glances at the guy who's been eyeing Avery the second she came into the villa. He looks so cute and cute guys are your weaknesses.

-

YOU: Hi, nice to meet you. I'm— [holds up hand] that sounds so lame, let me do it again! [Laughs] Hey, what's up? It's your girl [blows kisses] I like to keep a low profile. When I see someone I like, I just give them the eyes and they'll get it [Winks] I have standards, of course. But at the end of the day, I have the worst criteria [laughs]

-

The girls are cheering in excitement as they're the first to enter the bedroom.

There are five beds and ten people in here which means everyone has to pair up. The options are still wide open even though he sees Avery sitting on the bed with Asher.

He's half-heartedly listening to the conversation happening in the room as everyone is asking each other about their profession.

He sits on the bed to engage in the conversation as Peyton just told everyone that he works as a model which explains his perfect figure.

"What about you?" Peyton turns to Avery.

She tips her head to the side and it's so adorable of her "Why don't you guess?" 

"I think you model too," Finn guesses.

She surprisingly shakes her head, "No, I'm a singer," she says.

Han finds the opportunity to inject himself into the conversation.

"Oh, me too!" He says with such enthusiasm.

"Yeah?" Avery asks.

Han eagerly nods, especially now he has her attention, "What's your sign?"

"I'm a Pisces," she answers.

It's obvious that he can't match his star sign with hers but he won't let it get in his way, "My moon is in Pisces!" He says with a gasp.

"We have a lot of commons," he says, holding both his hands up for a double high-five with her.

"I think we should kiss," Han shamelessly adds.

Avery bursts into laughter hearing Han's proposition but to his surprise, she says, "Just a peck then."

She gets up from the bed and meets Han in the middle, their lips meet for a mere second until Avery breaks the kiss. There are various reactions from everyone but Han notices a few jealous eyes in a few of them. His way of flirting may seem random and a bit silly but hey, it works!

-

HAN: I'm feeling two or three of them but Avery... [whistles] Great body, great smile.

-

It seems like Han is not the only one who has the hots for Avery.

As he chats with Rio with his legs dipped in the swimming pool, he sees that Asher pulls her aside, talking on the wooden chair that overlooks the sea.

He turns at Rio and playfully asks, "What do you think he's saying?"

Rio lets out a chuckle and shrugs, "He's probably saying 'you're the most beautiful girl' and stuff like that," he replies.

Han chuckles at that as he keeps watching the two of them talking. He must admit that Asher wins on visual but it's not a guarantee that he'll be able to win her over with just his look.

Also, he already bagged a peck from Avery.

"How about you? Mikaela, huh?" Han says, guessing that Rio has his eyes on the beautiful, dark-haired girl.

Rio leans with his hands propped behind him and softly laughs, "She's got a banging, banging body," he says the word twice to emphasize how hot she is.

"I think I'll give it a shot, you know, and see what she's saying," Rio concludes.

Well, if he were Rio, he wouldn't worry about not getting a girl. He could only wish to have his sculpted body and he is indeed envious of him for it.

"Finn is going for Avery too," Rio informs.

"Yeah?" He asks with a painful laugh.

Rio laughs while brushing his dark curls to the back, "All I can say to you is best of luck," he says with a sly smile.

Well, the fact that he has competitions only means that Avery is that girl.

-

HAN: There's a competition going on for Avery [laughs] Well, I say let the games begin [rubs hands together]

-

This show is called Party in Paradise for a reason.

Everyone is so revved up and ready for the first party in the villa. The boys are already gathered at the beach, taking a glass of cocktail and making a toast.

"I saw my boy Peyton made his move earlier with Nya," Asher says.

"What?" Han asks in disbelief, completely clueless about it.

Peyton sips his drink with a bragging smirk plastered on his face, "It was nice, it was nice," he coyly responds to that.

"Are you trying to one me up or what?" Han jokes.

He swallows his drink before replying, "Something is going to happen tonight," he cryptically says.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air for another toast and Han wants to keep his focus sharp so he's only taking little sips of it.

Not long after, the girls are coming and dressed stunningly, carefully walking down the steps that lead to the beach. All of them look beautiful in their own way but Avery is exceptionally gorgeous to him.

-

HAN: I need to make a move on Avery. I need to make a progress.

-

The first round of drinks has been drained and everyone moved on to the next round right away. Music is blasting, sending everyone to start moving their bodies to the upbeat music.

Everyone is having fun and getting to know each other with every sip of drink, dancing with each other, not caring that the cameras are filming everything.

You've been instructed to take the lead on the first quest since everyone will take their turn anyway, you've been briefed on everything about the first quest.

When the music abruptly stops, you take it as your cue to take control of the show.

"You guys, I've been tasked to lead the first quest and..." you look at them to build anticipation.

"Don't worry, it's a fun quest!" You assure them, allowing them to stay loosen up.

You grab an eye mask that has been prepared by the staff and show it to everyone, "Each one of you will take turns to stand here," you pointed to the marked spot with a foam mat.

"And you'll put this on," you show them the eye mask again.

You take a few seconds of pause before letting them know the most fun part of it, "And any of you can come to kiss, lick, taste, bite, anything..."

You look at them and emphasize the word again, "Anything!"

Everyone is cheering in reaction, given the chance to do whatever they want to the person they fancy. You can expect a lot of lips locking and fondling in a few minutes.

"Don't get excited yet!" You put a halt to the pheromones you're spreading through your words.

You slyly smile, enjoying the little piece of authority you have over the show.

"The quest is, you have to guess who does what to you and whoever with the most correct answers," you turn around to show them the mysterious box behind you.

You step aside so everyone can look, "You'll get to open the mystery box!"

That earns a wave of applause from them, gets them wondering what's inside the box, and is determined to win the quest.

"Sadly, I don't know what's inside the box," you hurriedly tell them before they get suspicious that you know more than them.

You look around to spot any exciting person to kickstart the game. You notice that Mikaela seems eager to get something out of Rio.

"Mikaela, will you do the honor to be the first?"

She smiles brightly and confidently steps forward, squealing in excitement. You help put the eye mask on without ruining her styled hair and take a step back.

"You ready?" You ask her.

She wriggles her body, "I'm ready!"

Don't want to waste the chance, you steal a quick peck on her lips and earn a surprise gasp from some people.

"That's you!" Mikaela easily guesses.

You walk back to your seat while laughing and see that Rio is also taking his turn after you.

-

YOU: I got my make-up on, I did my hair and I'm... going to get a kiss from everyone [laughs] 

-

Peyton stirs a little chaos as he kisses Sawyer and it's not hard to see a displease look on Nya's face after, probably for the rest of the night too.

The time finally comes to Avery's turn. She carefully covers her eyes with the eye mask and with a smile, she makes gestures with her hands.

"Come and get it," she says, swinging her hips side to side.

Han wastes not another second to sprint to her and lands the first kiss on her lips. He gives everything he has to offer, kissing her with the skill he honed from years of experience and putting all of himself into this one kiss.

A kiss that he hoped would be enough to enchant her and put her under his spell.

Han slowly pulls away as his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, gasping as he looks at Avery's face.

"We share another common thing," he says.

"Huh? What?" Avery asks, still disoriented from the kiss.

"We're both great kissers," he answers.

Avery covers her mouth as she breaks into laughter and as soon as Han leaves his spot, Finn takes his turn to kiss her and he has to watch it.

"Oh, this is mad!" Rio comments while elbowing his sides next to him.

And right after that, Asher takes the next turn and kisses Avery, getting mixed reactions from everyone. That's probably because she gets the most kisses so far.

Avery takes off her eye mask and wipes her lips, trying to clean her smudged lipstick.

"Can you guess, Avery baby?" Nya asks.

She looks in his direction to get any clues on the person who kissed her.

"The first kiss is you," she easily guesses, using both hands to point at him.

Han is inexplicably proud of her for guessing right, he believes the peck helped her to identify his kiss.

"The second one is... uhm..." she bites her finger as she thinks.

She then scrunches her nose and doing it so adorably, "I think it's Finn?"

"And the last one?" You ask.

"That's Asher," she shortly answers, not having the slightest doubt in it.

Han looks at Asher who is nodding along, feeling cocky that Avery recognized his kiss. It seems like the competition has started for real.

-

HAN: The competition is... real mad! [laughs]

-

It's his turn now.

Han drains his drink that he's been sipping little by little and he needs every drop of courage to ready himself for it. When he looks at the other boys, they seem to have it easy because they're undeniably attractive and he feels slightly scared that the other will treat him differently because he's less attractive than the other.

Well, he should mainly focus on the keyword: attractive.

Han is attractive nonetheless.

The layer of anxiety is safely hidden behind his playful smirk as he takes his stand and covers his eyes with the eye mask. He licks his lips and slyly smiles as he says, "Come on! Daddy's home!"

Even though the possibility is close to zero percent, he badly wishes that he could get a kiss from Avery. He laughs as he remembers that he shouldn't take this too seriously, he's here to have fun, it's Party in Paradise.

He can hear the girls giggling and the boys cooing, he takes that as a sign that someone is approaching him. He swallows air as his heart is pitter-pattering and his chest filled with anticipation.

He's seen the other boys take their turn and everyone at least gets a smooch so he stands there expecting one as well.

Instead of that, he feels a kiss on his neck. He shouldn't feel disappointed but he can't help it. He focuses on trying to guess who it is.

Before getting his answer, he hears everyone cooing again and a few light claps.

He anticipates it and this time he believes that he'll get a kiss on the lips.

He indeed gets a kiss but not from one. He feels two pairs of lips kissing him at once and he doesn't mind it at all. It surprises him that he can only let them kiss him.

It's incredibly soft and warm, a little wet. He feels a few licks in here and there.

Too bad that he can't see it but it makes him visualize it in his head, him making out with these two girls, and fuck, it's so hot it gets him so horny.

He doesn't want to guess anymore, he keeps wanting to kiss them because they're both good at it, they know how to use their tongues, and makes him feel a bit lightheaded.

Someone pulls away first and he can hear her softly gasping while the other is still kissing him, taking a bit of his lower lip before letting it go.

Han hears another series of giggles but the sounds are fading, the girls are probably walking back to their seats. He takes a minute to compose himself, then takes off his eye mask.

The first thing he does to get his vision back is look at girls to scan any guilty faces. He can easily guess the one who kisses his neck.

"The one who kissed my neck is..." he points his finger at Sawyer and she reacts with blushed cheeks and a shy laugh, which proves that he's right.

This is where it gets tricky, he was enjoying every bit of that sexy makeout to try to guess who are they. He looks at the girls and they're giving him vague signs.

Sawyer is out of options and he knows Mikaela has no interest in him. That leaves you, Nya, and Avery.

As much as he wants to believe that it's Avery, he doesn't want to make it obvious to her. So he settles on you and Nya.

"Nah, you're wrong," Nya tells him.

His eyes widen in shock and he doesn't want to get over his head but is it possible that one of them is Avery?

He walks back to his seat with a dreading curiosity, "Who was it?"

Rio playfully punches his arm, "It's those girls!"

His eyes follow the direction of Rio's hand and he's even more surprised to know that he's right.

It's you and Avery.

-

HAN: I don't know what else to say [shrugs] I made out with the two hottest girls in the villa [smirks]

-

Not trying to compete with the other three boys but you're sure that the last person that kissed you is Avery.

"I know it's you," you point at her.

Avery may look like an angel, she walks and talks like an angel but she has the devil inside of her. You know that she's just like you, she's all about the vibe and having fun. You believe you would be good friends with her.

"I would be sad if you guessed it wrong," she says.

"I know," you coyly answer.

The game ends with you and it's time to announce the winner of the quest. It's an easy call because the one with the most correct guesses is none other than Avery.

"Come up here!" You order.

She gets up from her chair and walks up to you, leading her to the mystery box as she's the winner which earned her the chance to be the one opening it.

"I've been told that the content of this box will truly change this trip into an experience you won't forget," you inform everyone.

Avery gives you a nervous look as she grips the handle on the lid of the box.

"Are guys ready?" You ask everyone to keep the tension.

"Yeah!" They answer in unison.

You look at Avery and nod, "There's no turning back once you open it!"

You jokingly say that to scare her before walking back to your seat and joining everyone else as anticipation mounts in each passing second.

Avery looks at everyone and squints her eyes, "Count with me, please!"

Everyone agrees to start counting down together, "3..."

Avery decides to stand behind the box and holds the handle of the box again.

"2..."

You wonder what's inside the box, it looks small from where you're sitting but you have seen it up close, it could fit anything and it could be anything inside.

"1..."

Avery closes her eyes as she lifts the lid and the box unfolds on every side, exposing the content to everyone's watching.

You don't want to believe what you're seeing but then it chimes.

"Oh... fuck!" You curse out loud and you're not the only one doing so.

-

YOU: Are you joking?

-

"What is it?" Avery asks as she hasn't opened her eyes yet.

She then puts the lid away and sees what everyone is seeing, the cone that lights up in purple-hued colors.

"What is that?" She cluelessly asks.

"That's Lana!" Nya screams with a strained voice.

"That's fucking Lana!" She says again with a doomed expression.

Avery's eyes widen in horror and she drags herself back to sit, wedging herself between you and Mikaela.

You guess everyone is just in shock about the sudden turn of events and that everyone is trapped in her show. You hate that you know what's coming for you.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," Lana announces, telling everyone that she is running this show from the very beginning.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships."

"Guilty!" Asher says with a hand raised like he's in a classroom.

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Avery drops her head on your shoulder and grumbles, "I don't want that, Lana."

You put your hand around her, feeling what she's feeling: betrayal and devastation.

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

You close your eyes and try to take the first bitter pill, swallowing it dry, and pushing it as far down as you can.

"Are you jok—" Mikaela can't even finish her sentence.

"No kissing."

"What?" Avery gasps in disbelief.

"No heavy petting."

Mikaela sighs, running her hand to her hair and ruining her hairstyle altogether.

"And no sex of any kind."

That earns a lot of gasp from everyone and there goes down the biggest, most bitter pill you have to take.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Mikaela sighs again while Nya squeals in both pain and amusement.

"What does it mean?" Sawyer innocently asks.

"You can't masturbate, babe," Avery answers her question with a pout.

"At all?" She asks again to confirm her fear.

So they threw a bunch of hot people into a villa and tricked them into thinking that they would be partying and having fun only to reveal that they're not allowed to have any physical contact? What in the 21st century way of torture is this?

-

YOU: There goes my plan to kiss everyone... I was planning to get a taste here and there and now it's like... No [sighs]

-

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

Everyone's eyes turn green at the mention of money and the amount of it, also at the promise that they can win it.

"I'm a college student. I need that!" Finn comments from the end of the bench.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy to win that much money and now it looks like everyone would be leaving with nothing.

But with the rules are set and the prize is announced, the game gets serious now.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes with the gloom casting on those words.

"Everyone gets ready now 'cause it's not Party in Paradise anymore," Nya reminds everyone with the harsh truth.

"It's hell now," Mikaela eggs in.

Han personally thinks this is worse than hell. Because at least in hell, he'd be allowed to get horny.

-

HAN: $200,000... That's a lot of money... to spend [smirks]

-

"Please, can we not?"

The last thing you want to hear is everyone complaining about the rules again and it's only dragging you down more than you allowed it to.

"I'm just upset..." Mikaela says as she takes off her earrings and puts them into a jewelry box.

"I know," you sigh, tossing your shoes into the bottom shelf of your closet.

It takes you a long time to get ready for bed but it's most likely because the girls are chatting and you can't help but join in. Trying to keep yourself away from sex is hard but being able to talk about it is what makes it bearable.

You and Avery walk to the bedroom with arms linked, you just know you'll be friends by how you identify a few traits of yours in her.

The boys are already taking their territory except for Finn, you know he's still in the dresser room. You're fine sharing a bed with anyone but you try not to make drama by getting on a bed with someone's person of interest.

Since Avery is the hot commodity, you make her choose where she'll sleep tonight.

"So, Avery, what's the bed situation?" You ask her.

A few pairs of ears perk up hearing the question and you notice that the three men competing are watching as Avery is making a decision.

She walks up to the bed in the middle, "I'll sleep here."

Asher triumphantly smiles as Avery climbs onto his bed and gets under the cover next to him.

Now that she has settled on a man, you can choose your bed partner at ease. Rio is off-limits unless you want to face Mikaela's wrath and Peyton is also out of the question, you don't want to mess with Nya.

You walk over to Han's bed and you kind of like the vibe he's giving you, you know he's into Avery but it's not like he has much of options, it's either you and Sawyer.

"Want to share a bed?" You ask.

Han glances at you and without answering, makes a space on the bed for you. He seems to take an interest in the tattoos inked your body and he notices that you're watching.

"How many tattoos do you have?" He asks.

You lean against the pillow stacked behind you, "Uhm... I never counted," you reply.

It's amusing to see the wonder in his eyes as he's looking at your tattoos, making you feel like teasing him.

"How about I get naked and you can count my tattoos for me?"

He blinks his eyes at you, "I can promise you I'll do well at that," he says.

You chuckle at his witty answer and outstretched your arms to showcase the small tattoos on both of your arms.

He turns on the bed to lay on his side facing you, "Which one is your favorite?"

You take a few seconds to think of an answer, "I think it's the one on my spine."

You take all of your hair to one shoulder before turning your back at him, to show him the tattoo you're talking about.

His finger pulls down the silk camisole you're wearing so he can take a better look at it.

"Yeah, that's nice," he agrees with you.

You lean back on your pillow again and look at him, "How about you? Do you have any favorite yet?" You playfully ask.

He slyly smiles even before he begins talking, "Well, I believe there are tattoos that I have not yet seen," he says with one eyebrow slightly raised higher than the other.

Han knows how to amuse you, he's attractive in a different way than the other guys. It makes you want to tease him more.

"You mean like this one?" You lift the front of your camisole to show him the tattoo you have under your left breast.

He almost chokes on air as he breaks into laughter, "That could be my favorite," he says.

You nod and laugh along with him, "I'll show you more but I'm afraid we have to wait for third base," you jokingly say.

That amuses him so much, he collapses on his side of the bed and covers his eyes as he laughs. He has that laugh that only enhances the hilarity and you can't help to laugh along.

-

YOU: Han is cute, yeah, I think we'll get on well.

-

The lights are on and Han would still be sleeping if you didn't shift on the bed to take your water tumbler from the bedside table.

As everyone is slowly getting up and dragging themselves out of slumber, Lana's chime startles everyone.

"Oh, it wasn't a dream," Nya groans from the next bed to his.

Yeah, right, Han forgot about the sex ban until that cone lights up on top of the small glass table in the middle of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

Han props a pillow behind his head and you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it.

"Morning, hon!" You sleepily reply.

"I'd like to remind you that you're in a retreat but I do hope you enjoy your summer of sun, sea, and no sex," Lana concludes her morning greeting, leaving everyone with the awakening truth that they're not allowed to touch each other.

Han looks over to Avery's bed and wonders how is he going to make a move on her with Lana cockblocking him?

"Right. I'm going back to sleep," you grumble, closing your eyes and nuzzling your head in his neck.

Han slips his hand in your hair, playing with it as he's listening to the talk happening in the room.

"Is anyone still pissed off?" Nya asks everyone how they feel.

Peyton is the first one to raise his hand and Mikaela adds her opinion on the matter, "I think it's impossible to connect with someone without touching them, don't you think?"

Han is too busy thinking of his game plan now that the competition is getting tough and Asher is a point ahead of him.

"I think we need to tell each other if someone is—" Sawyer's words got cut off by Asher.

"At the end of the day, just don't lie," Asher remarks.

Han turns his head to the side only to bury his nose in your hair, catching the scent of your shampoo.

"Your hair smells so good," he says to you.

You hum with your eyes still closed and splayed your hand on his chest, "And you have nice pecs."

You both softly laugh at the compliments you give each other.

Last night, you both fell asleep after having a chat about random things, getting to know each other with jokes slipped in between.

Han must say that he likes you, you're fun to be around and you don't take things seriously. But then again, his eyes are on Avery.

-

HAN: I woke up next to her and it was great, I like her but... I like Avery more.

-

After taking a quick dip in the beach, you're walking past the boys who are working out on the way back to the villa.

"Looking good wet," Asher teases you with a lopsided grin on his face.

Too bad you're immune to sweet nothings like that, you flash him a smile and keep climbing the stairs back to the villa.

The other girls are already done with their make-up and leaving the dressing room empty, allowing you to get ready in peace.

In the middle of doing your hair, Nya enters the room and takes a seat next to you.

"What's up, hottie?" You ask while looking in the mirror to make sure you don't burn your scalp with the straightening iron.

Nya grabs her make-up pouch from the other side of the vanity table and takes out a brush. She seems to have something to say to you but hesitates to tell you.

After a while, she finally confesses, "Peyton and I, we kissed last night."

You're more shocked by the fact that she shares this with you rather than the kiss itself. They're horny for each other, it's only about time that they rule break.

You softly chuckle and gently comb your hair with your fingers, "How many times?"

"Just once," she answers while applying makeup on her cheeks.

"I'm impressed!" You playfully respond.

Nya chuckles at that and swivels her chair to face you, "What do you think? Is it three grand? For a kiss?" She asks with a nervous smile.

You put down the straightening iron and lean back on your chair, "I think so, yeah."

Nya takes lipstick out of her pouch next, "I didn't give a fuck at that moment," she says.

From your observation, Nya indeed doesn't give a fuck about the rules. She broke them hours after Lana put on the sex ban and you believe she wouldn't stop there.

"You saw how he kissed me last night during the game and I was a bit horny that we're sharing the bed..." she stops talking as she breaks into breathless chuckles.

"So, Peyton, huh?"

"Well, yeah, once I set my eyes on someone, I will get them," Nya remarks, affirming her strong personality.

"Sorry not sorry, Sawyer," she adds and couldn't care less about anyone else.

Which reminds you to never get on her bad side. You continue styling your hair while keeping the conversation going.

"Yeah, I think you guys are so cute," you comment even though you're not sure that Peyton will make a loyal partner considering that he kissed another girl right in front of her.

"What about you? How are you feeling?" She asks.

This is a dating show and you're well aware that you should get a partner to make this work but no one really tugs at your heartstrings.

Well, there is Han but he's certainly not available to you.

"I came to meet people and have fun, that's what I'm here for," you settle on a simple answer because you have no idea what you can do without a partner in this show.

"Yeah, yeah," Nya half-heartedly responds, "but who are you feeling?"

You must take another pause on doing your hair, "I like Han, he's cute. I like cute guys," you honestly answer.

Nya smiles listening to you talking, "He is. He is cute."

"But I think he's into Avery," you add, not letting her encourage you to pursue him.

Nya nods, getting the gist of it since it's obvious that Avery is the most popular girl in the retreat. She swipes her full lips with nude-colored lipstick and smacks her lips together.

"Once they know about the kiss, we're going to get hated," Nya once again worries about what would happen when Lana announces the infraction they've done last night.

"I think you should just... own up to it," you suggest.

Honest is the best policy and also, you think people will be less upset if they admit their mistake right away.

-

YOU: Knowing that someone already broke the rules. It's only about time that someone else starts doing it too.

-

Han has just come out of the shower when Lana calls everyone to the cabana.

He combs his wet hair fast and walks with Finn to where everyone has gathered, sitting on the curved sofa facing the cone-shaped lady.

He squeezes himself between you and Sawyer, putting his arm on the headrest of the sofa as he waits for Lana to come online.

You look over your shoulder at him, "You smell nice."

"I showered," he simply answers with a sly grin on his face.

"That changes everything," you joke, then rest your head on his shoulder,

The cone lights up followed by the melodic chime that he should get used to hearing it. There must be a reason why everyone is called to the cabana, someone must have done something.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

"Hey, Lana," he replies, suddenly feeling nervous even though he hasn't done anything yet.

"The rules of my retreat have already been broken."

Everyone collectively gasps at that announcement and this is where they get suspicious of each other.

"Oh, no..." Sawyer sighs.

Finn sits on the edge of the sofa and clasps his hands together in front of him, "Anybody wants to come clean?" He asks.

Han gets the feeling that Finn would play the good cop here and he also senses that you know something, "Did we kiss in our sleep or what?"

"If that's the case, I wouldn't stop at kissing," you joke back at him with a gentle slap on his forearm.

Unexpectedly, what you said makes him flutter inside, he almost forgot that someone broke the rules and possibly, it involves Avery.

"I'm so confused," Sawyer says as if it's a math problem that she needs to solve.

No one wants to come forward and it creates animosity in the air. He doesn't like what this leads to, he hopes that someone comes forward so things won't get ugly.

"Who's guilty?" He throws the question in with his eyes uneasily glancing in Avery's direction.

"I thought we were going to be truthful with each other," Finn reminds everyone about the unwritten rules they made this morning.

The calm on Nya's face shatters as Rio says, "You're looking real guilty right now, Nya."

"Yeah, okay, it was me," she finally confesses.

Nya tips her head to the side then looks at Peyton, "Peyton and I kissed."

Han glares at Peyton, he expects that at least he would man up and own up to it. But Han feels a relief knowing that it wasn't Avery.

"This breach of rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces.

Oh? Three thousand dollars? For a kiss? That's a surprise but still, he would spend that much for a kiss with Avery.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000," Lana updates.

"I'm so vexed, you know," Finn says, being the only one who is genuinely upset about losing money.

While the others... the others seem to have waited for someone to break the wave so they can start to rule break too.

And that includes him.

-

HAN: Best believe if anybody is going to rule break next, it's me [cackles]

-

"Hello, I'm Josh and I'm a professional tantric practitioner," the instructor for today's workshop introduces himself.

Your eyebrow raises in intrigue at the mention of the word 'tantric' and how it would help everyone to not think about sex.

"Tantric? What is that?" Sawyer naively asks next to you.

"Just listen to the instructor," you tell her with a pat on her shoulder.

"Usually, when we relate to other people, everything is fast, right?" Josh says.

You nod in agreement while shielding your eyes from the bright sun.

"Someone touches you, you touch them back. You kiss this person, they kiss you back but we don't feel it," he eloquently explains while walking around and making eye contact with everyone.

"That's what this workshop is for. For you to learn how to feel your body," he further explains.

He walks back to the middle and looks at everyone, "Pleasure is not in the other. Pleasure is in yourself."

Then Josh orders everyone to gather in the middle as he explains what we're going to do next. He holds a tray full of blindfolds for everyone.

"Usually, people relate tantra to sexuality. But that's just a really small part. Every aspect of you can benefit from increased awareness," Josh informs.

He then offers the tray to Asher who stands close to him, ordering him to get one.

"So we're going to broaden the awareness of our vision, of our breathing, our sounds, our movements..."

You put the blindfold on and tie it around your head, putting you in total blindness.

"We put the blindfolds on so the experience can just be your experience," he concludes before starting the session.

Josh instructs everyone to move their bodies, walk around, and eventually bump into each other's bodies. You get goosebumps when your body crashes with someone, you can feel their heat and feel them skin-to-skin.

Then Josh orders everyone to take a step back and blindly, get a partner to do the next session.

You catch the person that you inexplicably guess is standing in front of you and holding him.

"Oh, I found one!" You reflexively say.

Your partner chuckles at that and from the laugh, you can tell who it is.

"Got you," you tell him with a grin.

"Okay, now, breathe..." Josh instructed, "Breathe her in. Breathe him in."

You slip your hands under and around his waist while he places his hands on your back, also holding you back.

You lean your head forward and meet his head in the middle, ending up putting our heads together. This way you can feel his breath on you and every subtle sound he makes.

"It's time to reveal who your partner was," Josh finally allows everyone to take their blindfolds off.

You untie it on the back of your head and burst into laughs the moment your eyes meet.

-

YOU: I just can tell who it is the moment we touch [laughs]

-

"These emotional processes happen but they can only be experienced if you're present."

Now that everyone has partnered up, each pair takes a seat on the mat and sits facing each other. As Han puts his legs on each side of you, you decide to put your legs over his.

"You can get back to your connection through the eyes," Josh continues.

You both can't stop laughing at each other and the longer you maintain eye contact with him, the more you can't stop yourself from laughing.

"Don't lose her. Don't lose him."

"I think it would be better if we close our eyes," you suggest, holding his hands in substitute of that and pressing your heads together.

"Tantra is a way of connecting with your essence. With your feelings."

And you focus on doing what Josh told you to do, focusing on your breathing to be able to intensely feel things with your senses.

"Deep breathe, not deep penetration," Han reminds you.

Once again, you fail to keep your composure and break into a wave of laughter.

"Now, lie down. It's time for you to feel your whole body vibration."

You both lie down facing against each other with your legs still around him and he places his hand on your shin, softly rubbing the skin with his thumb.

"One must learn to connect deeply with oneself. That's tantra. A way through which you can truly connect with yourself."

Maybe because you let yourself open to it, you can feel that connection, it's as if your body is one with earth. You can feel the ground beneath, you can hear the waves crashing and the warmth of the afternoon sun on your skin.

"Now you can sit up," Josh orders.

You slowly open your eyes and sit up, meeting Han's eyes again but this time, you smile at him.

"That was good," you mutter to him.

"Right?" He agrees with you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and continue to sit close facing each other, feeling each other's bodies in a whole new way.

Josh finishes the workshop with one last instruction: a group hug.

-

YOU: I think I learned how to get to know myself better and to not hold in what I really feel [smiles]

-

"You all look so sexy!"

You compliment everyone who's getting ready in the dressing room while searching for someone. Avery gleefully smiles at your compliment.

"You look good in those sexy jeans!"

It sounds like she's making fun of it and you look down to check if you look okay in what you're wearing, "Am I underdressed?"

"No. Your butt looks cute in it," Avery assures you with a playful slap on your clothed ass.

To make room for everyone else who hasn't gotten ready yet, you move to the bedroom and find the one you're looking for. Han is sitting on the bed already dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with the top three buttons left open.

After the workshop, you feel somehow closer to him and you get along really well, you wonder if it could be more.

"Hiya, sexy!" You greet him.

Han glances up and pats the space on the bed, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

"How are you?" He asks.

"Good. You?" You ask back while sitting down and propping a hand against the bed.

"I'm good, thanks," he answers with a smile.

There's no one else in the bedroom and you take it as an opportunity to ask him about something.

"So, where's your head at?" You ask.

Han puts his hand under his head and simply says, "It's right here."

You chuckle and tip your head to the side, "I mean... who do you like in here?"

He takes a moment to take a deep breath and you guess picking his words carefully before answering you, "I think I get on really well with you," he begins.

And it's good to know that he feels the same way about it.

"But I'm more attracted to Avery," he adds, not even hesitating to tell you about it.

Well, it's also good to know that he can openly and comfortably share things with you.

"Yeah," you say, expecting that answer already.

Yet you can't quite hide your disappointment, you look away and pretend to fix your hair. That's just him basically saying that you have a great personality but that's not enough to attract him.

"As you know the three of us are pursuing Avery and we don't know which one she likes..." he says while rubbing his chin.

Instead of being salty about it, you decide to be a friend to him and give him your opinion.

"I think if you like someone, you go for it. There's no time to waste, just go and get it," you encourage while mindlessly running your hand on the bedsheet.

"Yeah," Han's head bobbing in agreement.

"You should talk to Avery and see how she feels about you," you add.

It is obvious that Han likes Avery but he's playing the cool guy trick by thinking that he'll win her over by acting like he doesn't care.

-

YOU: Oh, well... [awkwardly chuckles] I kind of expected that answer.

-

After the workshop, Han realizes that you and he bounce off each other, you're tuned in to the same wave and he agrees that it has the potential to be something more than that.

However, Han feels like he should keep pursuing Avery. Mostly because he's attracted to her, almost magnetic, and the fact that he has competition makes him want her more.

He gets out of the bedroom after knowing that Avery is no longer in the dressing room.

Turns out, Finn is already making his move on her. He sees them talking in the firepit and having a laugh, but he can't hear what they're talking about. Finn shortly leaves after kissing her on the hand.

So he's playing the romantic guy, Han reckons.

Avery once said that he likes bad boys and so he'll be it. Bad boys don't make it obvious that he likes her, they wait until they come around.

So Han decides that should be his game plan, sitting on the sofa and you know, waiting for Avery to come around.

-

HAN: I'm not worried about Asher so my game plan is to play it cool and see where it goes. She'll come to the right man... eventually [laughs]

-

After hours of no significant result, Han walks back inside to get a new place to hang out.

He decides to go to the bedroom, pushing the door with both hands only to walk into Asher and Avery cuddling on the bed.

Now he sees the flaw in his game plan, he slowly walks back out of the room as everything backfired to him.

When it's time for bed, he couldn't be happier.

Han dives into his pillow and takes a deep breath, blowing some steam off.

A moment later, he feels the bed quaking as you get on and playfully, put your body on top of him.

"We're like the twin bar ice cream," He grumbles as your body presses onto him.

His body shakes along with yours as you're laughing on top of him, then rolling yourself to the side and onto the bed next to him.

"How was your night?" You ask, playing with his dark hair.

"Average," he shortly answers.

"I'm asking about your night, not your genital size," you joke.

He chuckles before answering, "Then it's below average."

If there's anyone that makes this retreat bearable to him then it's you. He can share everything with you and what he likes the most about it is that he can seek comfort from you too.

Han scoots closer and puts his hand across your chest which you nicely welcomed. You're caressing his forearm with only your fingertips and it's relaxing him.

When the lights are out, you pull his arm and put it around you as you lie on your side with your back against his chest.

"Goodnight," you murmur.

He hesitates but with his mouth pressed close to you, he decides to kiss you on the top of your head.

"Goodnight," he murmurs back, snuggling his head on the crook of your neck.

-

HAN: I guess nice guys do finish last [laughs]

-

The bathroom is pretty much occupied by the two tall lovebirds, Rio and Mikaela.

You almost walk in on them applying sunblock on each other's bodies and slowly, walking back out of there. Stepping into the dressing room, you find Nya there with Avery who's busy putting her hair into a ponytail.

"Hello, babes," you greet them as you take a seat in your usual spot and decide to put on your sunscreen there when you usually put it on in the bathroom because it can get messy.

Mikaela joins in not long after and sits next to you, fixing her hair with a brush.

"Has anything been going on late at night?" Nya asks her since Mikaela and Rio turned up to their bed late last night.

"We held off pretty well, I guess," Mikaela answers with her half-moaning voice.

"Yeah, but has he been getting hard?" Nya asks again, being nosy as she is.

"We're pretty close," Mikaela answers with a cryptic smile.

You look at her with a dollop of sunscreen on your cheek, "Pretty close? What's that even mean?" You tease.

Before Mikaela can answer that, Lana butts in with her familiar chime, and everyone's heads turn to the cone sitting on the shelf.

"Uh-oh!" You gasp in surprise and awkwardly continue dabbing your cheeks with sunscreen.

"Girls," Lana calls out to everyone in the dressing room.

"Yeah?" Nya replies with a shocked smile.

"Please gather everyone in the bedroom," Lana orders.

You sense that Mikaela did something last night from the horror drawn on her face with her round eyes widening in slight shock.

Nya gets up from her chair but you haven't finished with your sunscreen yet.

"I'll catch up," you tell her.

You put on a sheer top over your bikini before heading to the bedroom and see that everyone is already there including Han.

He holds his hand out for you to take, gesturing for you to sit close to him at the end of your shared bed.

-

YOU: This can't be good news [scrunches nose]

-

Other than Mikaela, you notice another pair of guilty faces. No surprise if Nya broke another rule but also, you kind of guessed that Avery did something too, she keeps shaking her leg uncomfortably.

Lana chimes and the tension is already rising in the room.

"There have been breaches of the rules," Lana goes straight to business.

"Breaches?" Finn focuses on the plural terms that could tell how much money he'll be losing today.

As someone without a partner, you can relax since no one will be suspicious of you. You put your legs over Han's and rest your hand on his shoulder.

Heads are turning against each other but no one is saying anything.

"Mmh..." Avery lets out a low sigh.

You bet she did something and if yes, who did she do it with? You look at Han and wonder if he did what you told him to just go and get her.

"I'll be honest with you guys..." Asher speaks up.

There goes your answer. Avery did kiss but it's with Asher and you don't know why you feel some sort of relief on knowing it.

"I definitely lost some money last night," he pauses to scratch his head, "I pulled Avery aside and kissed her."

Avery shyly smiles and sputters her apology, "I'm–I am sorry, you guys."

Your eyes silently shift at Han and notice that he's not pleased to hear his love interest got kissed by someone else.

"This is what I wanted and I felt a genuine connection there," Asher adds.

What a way to prove that he wants to delve further into this relationship but Avery doesn't seem to be happy to hear his man declare that she is what he wanted.

"So sorry, guys," Asher concludes.

It would be stupid of you to hope that that's the only kiss that happened last night.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana says again and she won't stop until everyone comes clean.

You look at Nya and she's not looking at anyone. Peyton seems to have decided to keep denying it and staying quiet about it.

Mikaela sighs then closes her eyes, "Why don't you tell them, Rio," she says to the man next to her.

Rio licks his lips and opens his mouth, but words do not come out of it until a minute later.

"We kissed a couple of times last night," Rio confesses and pinches the bridge of his nose after.

"A couple?" Finn asks for confirmation.

You guess what he needs to know is how many kisses in numbers.

"Five times," Rio answers.

"Oh, my gosh!" Avery sighs while rubbing her temple.

That makes you sweat a little and you take your hand off of Han's shoulder to fiddle with the strap of your bikini, also because you sense that Han gets tensed beside you.

"I mean, I can tolerate one or two kisses but five?" You confront them and keep your tone calm to not trigger anyone.

It's not a genuine connection if you needed five kisses to convince you that you're emotionally connected so yeah, you doubt that Rio and Mikaela have it.

"If you had that genuine connection, what would you do?" Rio says in his defense.

"I don't know, maybe try a bit harder?" Han finally lets out an opinion with an insinuating tone, driven by the slight anger he gets from Avery and Asher's kiss.

"That's just a waste of money," Finn mutters from his bed and a deep sigh.

"Is that all, Lana?" You ask, wanting to get it over with.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana shares.

You don't even hold yourself back from groaning and rolling your eyes. You didn't plan to get this mad but hearing these people kissing and spending money recklessly ticked you off.

"We'll have no money," Finn mutters again and collapses onto the bed.

"Why are you smiling, Peyton?" Asher asks.

Peyton is indeed smiling and looking calm for a guilty man, "I kissed Nya last night."

Sawyer raises her hand like she's in a classroom but that works to get everyone's attention, "Wait, I'm a little confused about it because you said you were going to pursue things with me," she drops a truth bomb out of nowhere.

Nya turns Peyton around to force him to look at her, "You said to me that you wanted me, not her," she spoils more rotten truth.

This whole thing turns into a she said, he said situation and you can only watch them, going back and forth, pointing fingers at each other.

"I hate being lied to," Sawyer mutters.

Peyton rubs his chin and concludes, "I never lied to you," he says to Sawyer.

Then he turns to Nya and tells her the same thing, "And I never lied to you."

Can't help it, you let out a stifled laugh because Peyton not only digging his own grave but also putting nails on his coffin.

The ones that benefited from this are Rio and Mikaela, the love triangle mess is taking the heat off of them.

"It's obviously not working," Nya ends things for good.

Thankfully, Lana takes control of the situation to deliver the bills.

"All of these rule breaks have made me decide to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting with these rule breaks."

Your jaw drops at the announcement and get dizzy thinking of how much those five kisses cost alone.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000," Lana updates.

You scoff at the amount of money spent on a few silly kisses and have to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000."

Everyone is just as gobsmacked by how much money has been lost from the prize and if everyone keeps doing it, all of you would likely go home with nothing.

-

YOU: We might as well pack our things now and go home [shrugs]

-

A week has passed and you start to feel that you're merely wasting time here.

Not much happened around here especially after Peyton and Nya's ship sank right after that messy fight. In the end, Peyton doesn't get either Nya or Sawyer and he deserves every bit of it.

The retreat is not only about couple growth but still... If only you had someone to try to make a connection with, you would enjoy this whole experience more.

You wake up in the morning, have a few cuddles with Han, and then everyone is moving on with their day. There's not much you can do here but you try to participate as much by not breaking the rules.

As if you have someone to do it with.

Avery joins you as you walk down to the beach to swim at the beach. With the low tide, you can sit on the beach with her to cool down after swimming.

"Avery baby, tell me, how are things with Asher?" You ask out of curiosity.

What Asher did that day, defending her and openly telling everyone how he feels about her, you expect her to be swooned if not smitten.

But from what you've been seeing, it seems like things have cooled down between them.

"To be honest, I don't know..." she is just as confused as you.

"But out of all the three boys, you like him right?" You try to make it simple for her.

"Yeah, I like Asher because he's great, he made the first move and got an edge to him..." she explains.

You nod and support your chin with the back of your hand, "What he did that day, I think that's very endearing of him," you give her your honest opinion just in case she needs an assurance from someone outside that relationship.

"Yeah, he was like... expressed his feelings and telling everyone how he feels about me," Her facial expression gradually turns sour as you sense a 'but' coming from her small mouth.

"But I just don't like when people are like that to me," she says with a repulsed expression.

"I get really..." she ends the sentence with a groan.

The problem with Avery is that she doesn't know what she wants. Other than that, now you know why Asher flirted with you this morning but knowing that he initially likes Avery makes you feel like you're his backup plan.

Here's the thing about you, you don't like being a second choice.

-

YOU: You know what, Lana? I think we need more dicks in the villa [laughs]

-

Han feels like his breakfast is about to come up as he hears the sound of that melodic chime. He hears it often enough yet he feels even more anxious the more he hears it.

"Please be good news," Han mutters next to you.

You put your hand on his thigh, playing with a lint of his swimming trunk.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets.

He turns his head at the same time you look at him, sending both of you burst into laughter.

"Here we go," Asher mutters with a nervous sigh.

"To further aid your personal growth, you must learn to resist your urges."

That catches his interest but also makes his heart start to beat faster. Lana is unpredictable and Han hates that.

"I have arranged two dates."

That makes some people relax, at least, it's not about losing more money from the prize fund. Han, personally, has not yet recovered from losing a quarter of the prize money.

"Both with new arrivals," Lana finishes her sentence.

Other than Rio and Mikaela, everyone else seems to be excited about this. New guests mean new chances to make a connection.

"I have allowed the new arrivals to select who they want to ask out on their date."

Han is having mixed feelings about this. He knows that Avery is no longer with Asher but he's slowly losing his interest in her. Maybe the new arrivals can help him move on.

"The first new arrival is... Gwen."

So it's a girl, well, Han can do something about this Gwen. He feels hopeful once again and maybe this time, triumph will be his.

"Gwen has chosen... Rio to be her date."

All eyes are on Mikaela as she tries so hard to remain calm about this but everyone knows that she's fuming inside.

"You seem happy, Rio," Asher teases him which Rio coyly responds with a shrug.

"And date number two will be with Fabian."

His head turns as he hears hears you cooing in wonder, "He sounds exotic," you mutter.

Nya is the most excited one and it's probably because she needs to show Peyton that he's got nothing on her anymore.

"Fabian has chosen... Nya to be his date."

Han doesn't know why he feels glad knowing that this new guy didn't choose you but does that make him the bad guy? He doesn't think so.

"Rio and Nya, you may leave to get ready for the date," Lana orders.

He hasn't seen the new arrivals yet but he can imagine the amount of drama he'll witness later with Rio going on a date with the new girl.

-

HAN: The new arrivals, uh... they can't be ugly, right Lana? [Snickers]

-

The first one to return from the date is Nya and she's bringing a man who's taller than Rio and talks in a French accent.

Han can see that Nya is already all over him and he glances at Peyton who ends up with no one but his own player ass. He just knew that Peyton had it coming for him since that game night when he boldly kissed two girls.

He grabs his first drink of the day with the staff only allowed every contest to take three drinks max and when he gets back to the terrace, he sees a gorgeous girl with blond hair.

Rio is introducing the girl around while Mikaela is intensely watching him from the cabana with furrowed brows and eyes filled with fiery glints like a hawk.

When it comes to his turn, he doesn't bother making a good first impression.

"Han," he simply tells her his name.

"I'm Gwen, hi," she introduces herself.

With the few inches he doesn't have, Gwen can easily put her arm around him for a quick hug, "Nice to meet you!"

Gwen is undeniably beautiful, anyone who looks at her would agree with him. Surprisingly, he's not as excited as he imagined he would be.

Well, the last thing he wants to do is compete to win a girl over and he doesn't want to entertain the idea that Gwen would take a liking to him.

Despite all that, Rio and Mikaela remain strong. Everyone is staying on the same bed and because Nya and Sawyer refuse to sleep with Peyton, he has to share the bed with Finn.

Han feels good knowing that he doesn't have to deal with such drama, he walks to his bed and does not hesitate to cuddle you.

"Hi, sexy bunny," he mutters close to your ear.

The two of you have this inside joke of calling each other silly, childish pet names and yesterday, you called him

'tater tot' and he laughs whenever he recalls it.

"Hi, bubble butt," you reply.

He laughs at that and playfully bites at your shoulder to get back at you. Somehow, the only one he can comfortably share his space with is you and he realizes how grateful he should be for your presence.

"Goodnight, everyone," Avery says while blowing kisses to everyone.

Han tickles your neck with his nose and purposely, breathes into your ear, "Goodnight!"

You giggle in reaction to his tickling breath, "Night!"

He presses a soft, lingering kiss on your head and that's how he ends his day on a sweet note.

-

HAN: I wasn't attracted to her but now I feel bad for not giving her any attention.

-

"It's like working out with Zeus, bro!" Han says, watching Rio working out non-stop while he's sitting on the mat, drenched in sweat for doing not even half of the workout Rio is doing.

Rio carefully lowers down the heavy dumbbells and reorganizes his breath as he takes a break.

"So, are you still chasing Avery?" Rio asks.

Han sucks water out of the bottle, then licks his lips before answering him, "Honestly speaking, I'm losing interest," he answers.

He knows that it'll be different to everyone but seeing what happened to her and Asher, there's a chance that things would likely end up the same.

He's tired of chasing and she keeps hanging up on him, "I think Avery enjoys the thrill, the chase..." he adds while running out of breath.

"Yeah, I think so too," Rio agrees with him.

He then lies down on his back and starts doing sit-ups as if his abs aren't as hard as rock already.

"What about that new girl then?"

"Gwen?"

"Yep, she's pretty," Rio says, being the one who went on a date with her.

"Are you going to make a move on her?"

Han caught Asher making the eyes with Gwen last night and he's not that interested to even try.

Looking at Rio tirelessly working out, he feels motivated to continue and picks up dumbbells.

"You know, I'm feeling it more with my bed partner," Han honestly says.

"I know you like her," Rio says with a glare at him.

He stops doing sit-ups and points at Han, "You just don't want to admit it."

Han has to pause on lifting his dumbbells to continue talking. He suddenly gets flustered because that's true, he keeps denying that there's something more between him and you.

"You two vibe really well," Rio says and he has never seen him being this earnest.

Han stops working out altogether and drops the dumbbells on the floor, "it's because Avery is so my type," he simply defends himself.

"But uh..." he pauses to catch a breath.

"But when I spend time with her, it's... natural," he explains and he doesn't care if that doesn't make sense to Rio, "It's so much fun."

Han breaks down on the floor and wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, "I overlooked her because she doesn't look like my type."

Rio nods and intently listens to him speak.

"As soon as I saw Gwen last night, I was like... I still prefer her," he admits.

Han doesn't know why he can easily share his feelings with Rio, probably because he feels like a brother to him. Rio taps his shoulder hard enough that it launches him forward.

"You guys are cute together, and get along well, I don't see why you shouldn't try it, man!" He looks so annoyed and eager to see it happen.

Han laughs at that but he wishes he could easily share his feelings like this to you.

-

HAN: Maybe I should open up and accept how I'm feeling rather than keep seeking what's not there.

-

The mud is drying as you're walking back to the villa after having a girls-only workshop at the beach.

You share the shower with Sawyer to wash off the dried mud and waste no time getting ready for a party Lana throws to welcome the new arrivals.

The dressing room is crowded so you grab your make-up pouch to do it in the bathroom and you can do the hair later when it's less crowded in there.

For now, you're brushing your wet hair to the back while looking at your reflection in the mirror.

As you're about to apply moisturizer, you see Han walking into the bathroom and the first thing you see is that gummy smile of his.

"Hi, stud muffin," you playfully call him.

He would usually laugh at the pet names you called him but he only smiles in response, the kind that you've never seen on him.

"What's up?" You ask in wonder.

He doesn't say anything but leans against the sink facing you, looking at you with a cryptic smile dancing on his face.

He finally does something, walking up to you and placing his hands on each side of your waist. Slowly, he brings his mouth to your ear and whispers, "I missed you."

You reflexively burst into waves of laughter and think that he's just playing with you.

"I'm getting concerned," you tell him with a nervous laugh.

Han is also laughing and then he leans in to whisper again, "I miss you when you're not around."

You're giggling because the last thing you expect is to hear him saying that he missed you even though you've only been apart from each other for about three hours.

"Aww..." you coo at him, laughing the second your eyes meet in a gaze.

He cups your jaw then tilts your head, and you close your eyes in reflex. Instead of what you thought it would be, he softly whispers.

"I think I like you."

-

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[danasevans]

Never Have I Ever

Just a fun crack-ish drabble I wrote for The Pitt. The Pitt Crew goes out to celebrate Javadi's 21st birthday, and Samira gets more information than she bargained for during a drinking game. Mohan POV, no "main" ship but implied Mohan/Abbot and Dana/McKay. CW for alcohol (in a social context), and also for very lightly implied infidelity. Rated T, 830 words. Enjoy ❤️‍🔥

“Your turn!”

Samira is more focused on the dimple Doctor Abbot has when he smiles at her than on the words coming out of his mouth, so it takes her a moment to realize he’s talking to her. “Uh, what?”

He laughs. “Told you to pick something with a lower ABV than that Whiteclaw. It’s your turn, Doctor Mohan.” He nudges her in the side with his elbow, and she yelps, but keeps leaning against him. “C’mon,” he says, with another nudge. “Never have I ever…”

And then, Samira remembers the reason she and Jack are sitting practically glued to each other on a long-but-too-short bench in this dive bar is because they’re supposed to be socializing, celebrating Victoria’s twenty-first. Which, since it’s mostly an excuse for everyone to drink as much as they want-- or can-- has turned into the majority of them playing party games and taking shots.

She narrows her eyes, trying to come up with a question that will tell her something interesting about her coworkers. Nobody has asked the classic tattoo question yet, probably because so many of them have ink... it’s the ED after all. Samira is in the minority of staff without tattoos, which means she could probably make three-quarters of the table take a drink, but she doesn’t just want to know about the latin phrase on Robby’s forearm or the sappho quote that’s not-quite-hidden by Walsh’s sleeve when she wears scrubs. She purses her lips, tapping her fingers on her half-empty can of seltzer, and then proclaims, “never have I ever… gotten a tramp stamp.”

Walsh takes a shot, which makes Santos crow triumphantly. Mateo, Jesse, and Kim all gulp cider while Whitaker cheers. McKay, with the distinct advantage of her rumless rum and coke, takes a swig of soda and then gestures with the bottle. “Dana!”

Which could mean anything, Samira thinks, until Robby, setting down his beer, calls out, “Dana, take a shot!”

Samira thinks her jaw might drop a little as she glances between the three of them, noticing Robby and McKay also regarding each other skeptically. As far as she knows, neither of them are in possession of the partnered ring that pairs with the gold band Dana wears.

“Wait,” Dana protests, “what makes it a tramp stamp and not just a lower back tattoo?”

McKay grins. “If it’s covered by normal underwear but not a sexy thong, it’s a tramp stamp.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Robby demands. Jack practically cackles. Samira wonders if he’s talking about the definition, or specifically Dana’s tattoo.

Amidst their arguing, Dana takes the shot, then coughs. “Damn, I’m getting too old for straight liquor.”

“Do we have to show our tramp stamps?” Kim calls from her end of the table, earning a resounding no. When Samira glances back to the people sitting closer to her, McKay is talking again.

“When have you seen Dana’s tattoos, Robby?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. Samira tilts her head as she regards the charge nurse— aside from a faded band of letters around her wrist, the rest must be hidden elsewhere. Well, duh.

Robby takes another sip of beer, despite the fact that nobody has asked another question yet. “I could ask you the same, Doctor McKay.”

“We share a locker room, get your mind out of the gutter,” Dana chides him. Samira doesn't really believe her, but that could be her inebriated brain sniffing for drama. “This ain’t a pissing contest.” Dana picks up her glass of water and takes a long sip. Samira still gets the idea she probably won’t be driving home. “Cass, tell everybody what your tramp stamp says.”

McKay laughs, turning red. “Ugh, it’s a prison tattoo, it’s so dumb…”

“It’s funny,” Dana says, laughing and bumping her shoulder against McKay’s. Samira glances down the table to Santos, wondering if she’s picking up on any of this, but Santos is too busy watching Garcia lick margarita salt off her fingertips.

“It says, ‘if you can read this, you’re too close’,” McKay admits, with a pained grimace. Dana, Jack, and most of their half of the table crack up.

“Okay, okay,” Cassie whines, her face turning red. Dana grins and slings an arm over her shoulders, pulling the redhead into her as she asks, verging on desperate, “whose-- whose turn is it now?”

Jack is to her left, so Samira turns to her right, looking at the birthday girl herself. She slips a little, on the narrow bench, and Abbot’s hand comes around her waist, keeping her in place. Samira can’t decide if she needs another drink, or if that’s a very bad idea. She just hopes nobody’s paying as much attention to her and her attending as she is to Dana and McKay. And Robby.

“Victoria?” she asks, her voice cracking. “It’s-- it’s your turn.”

Javadi grins, looking around the table, her eyes a little glassy already. “Okay, okay! Never have I ever… um, ridden in a car without wearing a seatbelt?”