#but then she was doing a day in the life video

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

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The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

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For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

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The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

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The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

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Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[totalswag]

hey i love your work so much and if it’s not to much go ask i was wondering if you could do a fic where fem!reader is part of the cast on obx and she is really close friends with drew where they are flirting and what not and everyone ships them and they are at an interview with the rest of the cast and that gets brought up? sorry if that doesn’t make sense! if you don’t have time it’s completely

behind the scenes ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much lovie!! i'm open to take requests and write them. i've thought of this concept before and all i gotta say is thank you for requesting this because I NEED THIS!! super sorry for not posting for a small while, there were stuff i needed to take care of first.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary having a close relationship with drew that send hints to fans they like each other based on the way they flirt with each other.

warning(s) flirting, shipping, co-stars secretly like each other?

Being apart of the Outer Banks cast has been such a blessing. You've created relationships with people you consider family now and who you can count on no matter what the circumstances are. Being on set for weeks on end filming scenes and making memories is what you look forward to most.

You grew closer with Drew Starkey because your characters are dating in the show and always next together on set too. Drew has become someone that you consider very important in your life.

You joined the Outer Banks cast during the second season. Drew appeared in a couple appearances near the end of the season, implying that he is interested in someone— love interest. You recall fans going nuts trying to figure out if this will continue. Fast forward two seasons, and your characters are together.

After a long day of filming, the cast decided to gather for dinner at a local beachside restaurant. The atmosphere was vibrant, with laughter and the sound of waves breaking on the shore. You and Drew were seated next to each other, much to the joy of your cast members, who were closely watching your interaction with Drew.

"Drew, look at the camera," you softly sang, your phone in your hand on the table, Drew in the frame of the video— he was speaking to Rudy across the table. He gives you a look that shows he knows you are heard before looking down at your phone and waving.

"Oh! "Hello there," he smiles even more when he sees himself on the screen—you giggle at the end of the video before sharing it to your Instagram story. 

"You posted it on your story?" he inquires, his body language focused solely on you. "I obviously had to; it was cute," you said as you placed your phone on the table next to your wallet. You suddenly felt nervous in front of Drew.

He raises his eyebrows in satisfaction. "Cute, huh?" He smirks and smiles, patting your thigh.

Fans began to ship you and Drew together as your relationship grew. The chemistry between you two is clearly obvious on and off screen, which is why you perform scenarios so well. Fans go berserk every time you post something on social media about Drew.

You two flirt without even realizing it at times. You will compliment each other as if you were a relationship, but this is nothing out of the norm for you two. Even your cast members have boarded the train and made a few comments about when you'll finish up together. 

You can't lie, he's an attractive young man. There's no doubt about that.

Few hours after you posted on your story, fans have been discussing the video you shared in which Drew looks at you as if you are the most beautiful person on the planet and no one else is present.

Today, you and the cast will be doing interviews all day to promote Season four. For the first portion, everyone will sit in the same room as the interviewer, but thereafter everyone will be separated.

"Alright, everyone," said the interviewer, "we've got some fun questions from fans today, and they're dying to know more about the dynamic between some of our favorite cast members."

Everyone said "Oooo," anxious to see what else the interviewer would say.

"Let's start with a fan favorite," the interviewer added, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "There's been a lot of talk about the chemistry between you two." She pointed to Drew and you. "Care to share any insights on that?"

Your stomach dropped.

The question hung in the air, drawing a chorus of “Oohs” and playful nudges from the cast. You felt your cheeks heat up as you exchanged a glance with Drew. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips

"Well," Drew said, leaning in slightly. "Y/N and I have always been close. We simply clicked, you know?"

"Really?" the interviewer asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Because the way you two flirt on and off set is pretty convincing."

You laughed and shook your head. "We simply have fun with it. Drew is a terrific person, and we like joking around. "It keeps things moving on set."

"From our first reading together, I knew she was going to be a great co star of mine and we've formed an amazing bond throughout the years" Drew says with his hands. In gratitude, you give him a pat on the back.

Your cast mates' eyes are constantly drawn to you and Drew since they can tell you have mutual feelings for each other. Granted, you two have scenes together all the time and have developed a strong bond. However, you consider being more than friends with him.

The interview continued on with more questions popping up that were exciting to answer. In the back of your mind you were thinking about the question about Drew and you— do you want more?

Later that evening, you and Drew returned to your apartment and relaxed in your living room. The city lights outside your window gave a soft glow across the room, and the steady hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. You'd both changed into more comfortable clothes, eager to relax after a long day.

"Today was something, huh?" Drew murmured, breaking the silence as he sprawled down on your couch, seemingly at peace.

"Yeah, it was," you said, sitting next to him. "They really went all in on the whole shipping thing."

Drew chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart race. "Yes, they did. "Makes you think, doesn't it?"

He sat up, his face instantly serious. "About Us. I mean, everybody sees it. Hell, we see it, don't we?

Your breath became locked in your throat. The playful flirtation, the lingering touches, the way your heart raced whenever he was close—it all hinted at something more than friendship. However, hearing him say it aloud was another. It made it real.

"I suppose we do," you confessed gently.

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 92 (Conrad's First Love)

cw: Conrad getting pretty spicy 🌶️🌶️🌶️ and not with Heather; references to human and drug trafficking (not depicted).

Follows the events of this post.

As she passed him to put away her gloves, a stunning redhead at Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym caught Conrad's eye. Though he'd been deep in another bout of anger and self-pity over the death of his mother years earlier, he stopped his workout. Every inch of his being compelled him to talk to her.

She turned with a smile before he could stammer a single word. "Hi, handsome. Did you want a better look?"

He nervously introduced himself and she told him her name. "Ximena." The word floated from her lips like a song. He was instantly smitten.

"Ximena, could I buy you a drink?"

They spent the day in a local pub. He told her everything about his mother's death and his distance from his father in the years since. She listened, but she had a lot less to say about herself. "I live here with my brother. I'm a student, and I'm the only caretaker he has. Our parents aren't around anymore, and it's been just Rafa and me for years."

He could hear an accent when she spoke, and most people in Britechester weren't locals, so he made an assumption. "How long since you moved from Selvadorada?"

Surprised by his guess, she turned defensive. "I don't talk about Selva."

He liked her too much to press and push her away, so they spent the rest of the day flirting and discussing their interests until Ximena invited him back to her place. "You make me laugh, Conrad Gordon. My brother's still at school and I want to get to know you better without all this noise. I hate the music they play in here."

Once Conrad followed her out of the bar and back to the small home she shared with her kid brother, Rafa, he started following her everywhere.

He lost his virginity to her a week after they met. That night, she told him why she left Selvadorada.

"I was going to die or they were going to kill me. I wouldn't let them sell me to anyone anymore, so I made a plan and left with my brother in the middle of the night to come here."

She showed him the scars left by the cartel, and a resolve to keep her safe coloured his already steadfast affection. He let her cut his hair when she said she wanted to show him how freeing it felt to change his look. "It's nice not to recognize the person in the mirror, sometimes," she said.

She told him she was a student, often meeting him at Larry's Lagoon to study but usually distracting him into other activities. One afternoon, she introduced him to an old friend, Jimmy Stefano. "Can you help him out around campus? You're in the same major."

Something about Jimmy Stefano rubbed Conrad the wrong way, but he assumed it was jealousy. Despite this, he would already do anything for Ximena and agreed to take Jimmy under his wing.

He called his father to say he planned to stay at school for Spring Break. "Sorry, I know I said I'd come home to see you."

Stephen Gordon laughed him off, but masked slight disappointment. He had no idea whether his son was flourishing or floundering at college, unsure how he'd been coping so far from home. "Don't worry, son. I'm just glad you sound happy. You're making me and your mother proud."

He skipped classes to spend time with Ximena, but made no mention of this to his father, of course. He spent time with Rafa when Ximena said she had late-night classes, taking him to the park to play pirate captain versus sea monster, and talking endlessly with him about video games.

Rafa wanted to become a pirate captain in Sulani or a game tester in San Myshuno. He had almost no memory of life in Selva before his sister left, but he knew it was "the bad place." He liked spending time with Conrad because he said his sister was too strict. "She just loves you," Conrad assured him. "Parents have to set rules, and she can't just be your sister. She has to care for you like a parent, too."

He realized then how important it was to be a model for Rafa, who needed guidance as much as anyone his age. Conrad had always had his father, but who did Rafa have besides Ximena?

Conrad discovered how she paid for an entire house for her and her brother by accident, stumbling on an argument between her and Jimmy Stefano near the campus fountain. "The deal was thirty pounds for three grand."

"They said if I didn't have five grand they'd only give me fifteen. They had guns, Ximena."

"They all have guns! Knives, too. Get your own and figure out how to use it. Watcher, please, don't screw this deal up for me, Jimmy."

"Who has guns?"

"The cartel," said Jimmy, so nonchalant, yet it still hit Conrad like a missile. His stomach turned as he read Ximena's expression. Every lie she'd told him unravelled with a look.

"Are you really a student here, Ximena?"

"No. They're my customers."

He'd had his suspicions, but he'd always told himself he was wrong. Ximena was supposed to be perfect. Hoping against hope, he still tried to play the fool. "What do you mean?"

She dragged him back home to tell him the truth - how she'd bargained with the cartel to escape a life of servitude to the men who ran product all over Simlandia. She refused to serve them, but her way out was to join them instead.

Conrad was angry, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. As they lay in bed that night, she asked, "Are you going to break up with me because of what I do?"

"Not a chance. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled, resting her head on his chest as he ran a hand through her newly blonde hair. "You look nice without glasses, Conrad."

"You already gave me a haircut, Xime. You don't like glasses?"

"Conrad, you're very sexy. But you hide it and it's silly."

"If you're going to give me a makeover, what should I get you?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Ximena, I want to give you everything you could ever want."

She blushed. "I want you, Conrad. But since I already have you, maybe...jewelry? Like a ring."

"You don't wear any rings."

"Because none are special enough, Conrad."

He smiled. "Alright, that's one idea. But say I wanted to surprise you, what else did you want?"

"You could join me running product for the cartel. Our lives would be made, and we'd always be together."

"I don't want to run product for the cartel, Ximena. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be there for you. Rafa, too."

"Right, but what if I go? Rafa loves you, Conrad, almost as much as me. But what if the cartel moved me somewhere else? Would you come with me? Maybe you could be, like, my security. No running, just keeping me safe. Always with me and Rafa."

He'd do anything to protect her, but he didn't answer her that day, refocusing on his studies until he returned to San Myshuno at the end of the semester.

He'd missed his father more than he expected, and they went for walks in warm sunshine by the Spice Market. They talked about school, and Conrad talked about Ximena - leaving out details of her career and focusing instead on her relationship with her brother. Conrad rarely asked his father about work, but Stephen hinted he was inching closer to retirement. "Chester's daughter Nancy is ready to take over the company, but Chester's not quite ready to retire. I think she's plotting a coup, but you didn't hear that from me."

"What happens to you if she pushes out her own father?"

"Hopefully, a retirement package. Chester may not be ready, but I think I am."

On one of their walks, they passed a jewelry store, and Conrad made a beeline for the ring counter. A confident salesman smiled as the Gordon men walked inside. "Welcome. What are we shopping for today?"

"I'm just looking," Conrad said. "What rings do you have?"

The salesman beamed. "Are we thinking of an engagement?"

Stephen eyed his son carefully, but Conrad shook his head. "Not right now. Just like, for an accessory."

"I don't know, son. A ring says you're ready for forever."

Conrad took his father's words to heart, considering what forever with Ximena might look like. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't ready for a ring. He left that day with a nice bracelet for her, instead.

"Even leaving with a bracelet as nice as that one...she must mean something. I'd love to meet her."

Conrad nodded. "She might be able to visit this summer, if she's not too busy with work," he said.

Stephen smiled and the Gordon men continued their walk, strengthening the bond nearly severed by grief before Conrad returned to Britechester for another semester. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOT FUN FACT: Conrad got crab lice from Ximena when they slept together for the first time, which is gross but also fitting I guess. And yet I didn't make it canon because it didn't quite fit the vibe. Plus, he wasn't supposed to find out that early on that Ximena was problematic.

WCIF Poses Used? Various from packs Old Souls Love Differently by @simmireen (when Ximena is blonde), Our First Time by @eclypt0sims (redhead), The Kiss by @simmerberlin (black hair) and Nights Like These by @sakurasims-world (also redhead).

WCIF Jewelry Store? Jewelry Store by Guinifere on the Sims 4 Gallery. Very elegant interior and comes with crafting tables, a vault, charging stations - very nice lot! Needs dressing up with completed jewelry on the counters and in displays to look really spectacular (and I of course went the lazy route), but I wouldn't if I was playing a retail career, and this is a great lot for someone who wants to be a jeweler!

[sttrawberries]

 ‘’ He couldn’t help smiling at your conversations, it was like he was back to a teenager nervously trying to talk to a crush, but he didn’t have a lot of experience with those.’’ babyy

‘’ What really made his stomach churn was when he couldn’t bring you to the airport to see him off. It felt wrong to leave your place without you behind him, leaving you to kiss only him goodbye, but not asking to follow him to the airport.’’ Maybe one day:(

‘’ and he was fighting to throw you on the next plane so you could watch him race.

Maybe a dramatic kiss after he won would be nice’’ *waiting patiently*

‘’ I saw that interview and I know that look in your eyes. I even commented on that video.” We just found the captain of our ship sksjssks

‘’ Dick’s gonna be jealous when I tell him you’re trying to get a flight back for love.” Kskdkssjs

‘’ “JayJay! JayJay!” Lian’s small shout catches Roy’s attention.’’ AWWWWWW

 ‘’She made small grabby hands before he immediately gave in to grab her underneath her arms, settling on his chest.’’ AAAAAAAA

‘’ While Jason patted Lian’s back soothingly, Roy watched as the two most important people in his life were embracing. It brought a smile to his face.’’ PLEASE MY HEART, this is the cutest thing!

‘’ He was given support.’’ I’m so happy, he deserves it

‘’ He looked like he was in his element, a kind of happiness that only sprouted in him from Formula 1.’’ :,)

‘’ You: Send me a picture of you in your gear’’ that’s how it starts huh

“Todd? How is that guy a threat? He just hides behind the RedBull emblem, but he’s nothing but another racer.”’ I present to you all my new enemy

‘’did you see how he crashed his vehicle last year? Bet he wouldn’t want that happening again, huh?’’ *no fears* *reads that line* *one fear*

‘’ (Handsome) Mr. Todd: please I am more than my body’’ dkskdlhdskj

‘’ but he walked in a different direction, away from the crowd.’’ Weird? I’m going to get paranoid

‘’ you could see the racer joining another man, adorned in a suit, turning his head sideways, but you couldn’t recognize who that was.’’ Postpone the race, I’m definitely paranoid

‘’ Jason’s voice faded as he yelled at Roy to back off from him.’’ Skjdsks

“I gotta race soon, but I just wanted to hear ya before I had to leave. God, I miss you.” AAAAAA

“I wanna fly you out here before then. I mean, I’ll be down for Vegas, but that’s too long. I gotta get you down here next to me.”  

“I’ll see what I can do about work leave, but maybe i’ll take a couple sick days?” YES PLEASE

‘’ I lo—”’’ I LOVE YOU???? JASON AAAAAAAAAAAA

‘’ There are numerous words that start with that sound. Maybe it was a mistake?’’ mmmm

“I was almost done—will you stop—Roy!” JJSJSJSJJS

‘’Roy was the only one who could compete with him on the track, so maybe his words weren’t just to instigate him.’’ Shh jsjsja

‘’ he wanted to see you and win while you were with him.’’ I can’t wait

ANDDD I'M FINALLY UP TO DATE WITH THE CHAPTERS, I'M SO EXCITED FOR WHAT'S ABOUT TO COME AND SLIGHTLY WORRIED ABOUT THAT WEIRD RACE GUY

Racing Hearts Pt. 5

Pairing: F1!Driver!JasonTodd x Reporter!Reader

A/N: sorry for the late late late update 😭 i was having so much problems with trying to enjoy this series again that I felt that if i rushed it it would ruin the series for not just me but a lot of people. Thank you for all the patience and i hope u enjoy this much needed chapter. ENJOY and flowers for all of u 😫💐 like if you’re comfortable and please tell me your thoughts as the story continues <3

Check out the Racing Hearts Masterlist!

Word Count: 1.9k (sorry but i’ll work my way up again 💪)

Jason finally had time to check his phone. He removed any miscellaneous notifications he forgot to silent before getting to the track this morning, but he was checking for a familiar name and icon.

It was like a little surge was invading his bones. He couldn’t help smiling at your conversations, it was like he was back to a teenager nervously trying to talk to a crush, but he didn’t have a lot of experience with those.

The times he rarely did have a fling, he kept it private, left it before it could be a scandal that he would be chewed out for.

But this.

This was new. He knew it was different when he was trying to get any attempt to still make sure you were fine with being with him.

What really made his stomach churn was when he couldn’t bring you to the airport to see him off. It felt wrong to leave your place without you behind him, leaving you to kiss only him goodbye, but not asking to follow him to the airport.

He tried to brush off the feeling the entire flight, but he couldn’t squish the thought that he wanted you here. That other than a quick romance, he could talk to you about his personal life, and he was fighting to throw you on the next plane so you could watch him race.

Maybe a dramatic kiss after he won would be nice. But, that was too cliché.

While deep in his thoughts, Roy tried to peak over Jason’s shoulder, trying to see what he was looking at, but it was not smart to try that on such a tall man. All he could manage to see was an open browser with plane flights.

“You tryna leave me here by myself?” Roy calmly asked, keeping his eyes down at the phone.

Jason frowned, not surprised at the nosey man.

“You get a little friend and now you want to leave me?” Roy feigned tears, placing his hands gently onto Jason’s shoulders. “If you must, then go! I can get us a championship. I can handle that for us.”

Jason sighed, closing his phone.

“Shouldn’t you be watching Lian? Why are you bothering me and what are you talking about?” He asked.

“Lian’s always with the crew, she’s more interested in the buttons than behind the wheel—don’t try to distract me, I’m not stupid, Jaybird. I knew you were a two timer.” Roy pointed an accusing finger into Jason’s face. “I saw that interview and I know that look in your eyes. I even commented on that video.”

“Uh, huh.” Jason ignored him and walked away, this time looking back at his phone to try to type, not reacting to Roy’s antics.

“I’m surprised your brothers haven’t bothered you about it. Dick’s gonna be jealous when I tell him you’re trying to get a flight back for love.” Roy aimlessly followed Jason, adjusting the cap on his head as he playfully wiggled his brows.

“That dickwad is probably too busy hiding behind a badge for that. He needs to find better things to do than bother me.” Jason stopped pacing, looking back at the red hair tail that can’t seem to get off him. “And you need to watch your daughter and also stop bothering me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Roy sung. “Just me and you on this track forever, plus Lian, never leaving each other while we embrace—with Lian, of course.” He opened his arms for a hug.

Jason gave Roy an impassive look, not bothered to even give him an expression.

Still with open arms and a smile on his face, Roy waited before a small voice shouted out.

“JayJay! JayJay!” Lian’s small shout catches Roy’s attention.

“My Lian!” Roy reached out to grab his daughter walking with one of the crew members, finally relieving them from their babysitting duty. “No Jaybird today, Lian, he’s trying to run away.” He cooed happily to his daughter as she laughed, large noise cancelling headphones were bouncing around her neck and a bright smile spread on her face as he booped her nose.

“I’m not—the flight isn’t for me.” Jason sighed, not willing to look at Roy fully in the eyes.

Roy’s eyes widened as he heard the admission. A small silence lingered.

Lian broke the pause by reaching out for Jason. She made small grabby hands before he immediately gave in to grab her underneath her arms, settling on his chest.

She whispered a small “JayJay” before laying her head down, exhausted from an hour of playing while Roy and Jason were busy racing in the practice sessions.

While Jason patted Lian’s back soothingly, Roy watched as the two most important people in his life were embracing. It brought a smile to his face.

“I’m happy for you, Jaybird.”

It was all that was said between the two as Lian closed her eyes, but Jason felt content. He was given support.

—

“I’m never afraid of the track, it’s the fastest you can ever be on the ground and I wanna be the best.” Jason spoke to the interviewer on your TV screen, the Australian sun surrounding his face.

“How important is this race for you?” The off-screen voice asked Jason.

“Every race is important. I’ve gotten RedBull multiple wins these past couple years and I want to add another one. I feel better than I’ve ever have.”

You sat on your couch, dinner in your lap, watching your partner on screen wave goodbye, giving one final dazzling smile while taking off to his car.

He looked like he was in his element, a kind of happiness that only sprouted in him from Formula 1. A kind of motivation used for racing.

“Welcome to another race of the Formula One World Championship. What a great weekend to continue a new season.” The introduction boomed from your TV, setting up the Sunday excitement, ready to end another race weekend.

Ding. Ding. Your phone notifications rung next to you as you took a bite of your dinner.

You: I told you to hold a peace sign to the camera, now you owe me dinner

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You laugh at your phone screen.

You: Loser

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You: Send me a picture of you in your gear

As you wait for the reply, your TV catches your attention. A driver you’ve never seen before now standing in front of the microphone.

“Todd? How is that guy a threat? He just hides behind the RedBull emblem, but he’s nothing but another racer.” The raspy voice sent a chill through you.

“Jason Todd is a back-to-back four-time World Champion, do you plan on breaking that streak?” The interviewer pressed on.

“Ha! Like that’s hard, did you see how he crashed his vehicle last year? Bet he wouldn’t want that happening again, huh?” The man’s voice twisted something in you.

Formula 1 did have it’s competitive moments, but how was someone like this rude man competing?

Ding.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: please I am more than my body

Despite Jason’s words, a flattering picture of him came in. A good look at his hands and body in the RedBull uniform. Gosh, you missed him.

You saved the photo with a smile on your face. A new lock screen.

You: don’t injure that pretty face of yours <3

“Thank you for the interview, good luck on your race.” The interviewer finished up, stepping in front of the camera to replace the rude driver.

You glanced up to get one final look at the screen, watching the rude racer walk away, expecting him to get bombarded with another interviewer and a brand new set of cameras, but he walked in a different direction, away from the crowd.

You were confused at the racer breaking the long chain of interviews happening on race day.

At the very edge of the camera, you could see the racer joining another man, adorned in a suit, turning his head sideways, but you couldn’t recognize who that was.

You whipped out your laptop. Maybe you missed an upcoming rookie the last year or there must’ve been a change you missed in the racing industry.

Your mind buzzed remembering the blurry man putting his arm around the rookie racer before your ringtone shouted at you.

Life is a Highway started to play as Jason’s contact picture brightened on the screen, a nice side view picture of his smiling face when you took him out for dinner.

You quickly picked up.

“Hey Jay! How’s Australia?” You gleefully asked, contrasting glancing back and forth to the TV screen and your laptop before the camera changed to the racetrack, no longer seeing the mysterious men.

“It’s fun when Roy isn’t talking his ass off.” Jason’s voice faded as he yelled at Roy to back off from him. “I gotta race soon, but I just wanted to hear ya before I had to leave. God, I miss you.”

Your breath hitched hearing Jason be so direct. You tried to reason with yourself that it was from the adrenaline before the race, but it made you feel like you were floating off the couch.

“I miss you too. Maybe when you have a chance to get back here, we can go out to eat like we normally do.” You suggested, a little more brightness in your voice.

You watched the compilation of Jason’s previous races playing on the screen. You saw him zooming down the narrow lanes at horrifying speeds as you heard him softly speak to you through your phone.

“I wanna fly you out here before then. I mean, I’ll be down for Vegas, but that’s too long. I gotta get you down here next to me.” Jason’s voice smoothly went in and out of your ears.

Your felt yourself reddening at his delightful words to you.

“I’ll see what I can do about work leave, but maybe i’ll take a couple sick days?” You spoke to Jason, happiness surging through you. “I would really love to fly out there.”

A loud engine roared through your phone, cutting off Jason’s voice briefly.

“Shit, sorry about that, I gotta go. I lo—” Jason hesitated before he was about to end the call, following up by several louder engines revving, overshadowing his voice despite how close he was to the phone. “I, uh, I’ll call you later.”

“Stay safe, Jay.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Beep.

The call clicked to end. No longer hearing the bustle around Jason as he was inching closer to his race.

Your heart beat rapidly in your ears as you continued to hold your phone in your hand despite the call ending moments ago.

You can’t assume.

There are numerous words that start with that sound. Maybe it was a mistake?

—

“What the fuck, Roy?” Jason yelled over Roy revving his engine multiple times. “I was almost done—will you stop—Roy!”

Roy lifted his foot, no longer making the obnoxious noise.

“Get your helmet on, we gotta go. If you win, then you can talk on the phone all ya want.” Roy was ready to pull onto the track. “Unless you want to stay on the phone and I can win this for us?”

Roy laughed as he sped off.

Jason sighed in disbelief as he walked back to get make sure the final checks on his car were done.

Roy was the only one who could compete with him on the track, so maybe his words weren’t just to instigate him.

He needed to focus because he wanted to see you and win while you were with him.

Jason put on his helmet, getting any last-minute safety precautions checked before he got the signal to drive out.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @kalzzen @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15 @whatsupstark @maxi-ride @kolmikaelsonslover

[dani-ya-dig]

Something that I really love about Sam, and have always loved since I listened to his first video, is how he entirely subverts the expectations for vampires. Not just modern day ones but the expectations that have always been there for vampires.

(And his southern accent but that’s not what this post is about)

When vampires first rose to popularity, what they represented was a fear of sexuality. They were inherently sexual creatures of the night who lured innocent people into the shadows with their powers of seduction only to drink their blood.

We even see this in most of the redacted vampires. Vincent was literally introduced as “the flirty vampire”. While later he was given some depth and we learn that he just picked up that act from Porter, it was still an integral part of him in the beginning. Even Alexis, as little from her as we have heard, she speaks in a very low, sultry tone. Even when she isn’t trying to be flirtatious.

This is a very inherent part of vampires some lore even describes it as a power that they have. (I believe this is addressed within Castle Audios lore as “the lure”)

But Sam doesn’t have that. He isn’t flirty. He isn’t seductive. Not in the traditional way anyways. (Because HOO BOY AM I SEDUCED)

Sam doesn’t try to lure Darlin in when they first meet. He doesn’t really try to lure darlin at all, really. They just naturally grew close. It was active flirtation, it was just chemistry and care.

Even when they do admit their feelings for each other Sam still doesn’t want to have sex. He hadn’t for over a decade, and the last person he had sex with stole his life away from him. Of course he didn’t feel comfortable.

And I think this all helps to portray the most important part of Sam’s backstory.

He wasn’t supposed to be a vampire.

He never planned on being turned. He didn’t want Alexis to turn him. He never wanted to be that.

The same could be said for Vincent, he didn’t wanted to be turned either. He wasn’t given a choice. However, Vincent still took on that flirty vampire persona.

I think this illustrates the difference in how Vincent and Sam grew into their turning over time. Vincent, while extremely depressed in the beginning of his turning, grew into it. He eventually learned to accept himself as a vampire, and even embrace it. I think him taking on that traditional, flirty vampire act, was his way of embracing what he now was.

Lovely’s part in Vincent’s character growth, rather than teaching him to accept himself as a vampire, was helping him to learn that he didn’t have to be someone new just because his mortal self is dead.

Sam, while he accepted the fact that he was a vampire passively, he never really embraced it as part of himself. I think this is really well illustrated by how he handled feeding before he fed from Darlin. “I’ve never been one to savor the taste. I just chug it like a supplement and pour a cup of something I actually like the taste of”. (That was paraphrased pls don’t hurt me if I got something wrong). He accepts that he needs blood to survive but he is going to incorporate it into his life passively, and focus on the things he actually likes. He accepts that he is a vampire, but he won’t take it as a part of himself.

I think this is even shown well in Sam choice to “chose morality” (as it was put in the trigger warnings of that one video, still hung up on that btw) rather than live forever. He accepts that he is immortal, but he isn’t going to embrace it.

To Sam vampirism isn’t a part of himself, it’s just something that was done to him. Like a giant scar that covers his body, his face, his eyes, even his core. It still isn’t him.

The way that Darlin plays into Sam’s character growth, I think has potential to change this and I think it’s something interesting to explore.

So far Darlin already has played a pretty big part in Sam’s character growth. Before meeting them he was closed off. Isolating himself from pretty much everyone but a few people in his clan. Darlin has brought him out of that. He now has people, he has the pack. While he does love Vincent and Lovely (and possibly Fred and Bright but we will never know what happened with them), it’s important to have people outside of the ones that you are forced to interact with by circumstance. Especially if said circumstances are horribly traumatic for you.

Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and all that.

However, I think Darlin inadvertently helping Sam to embrace the vampiric aspects of himself is interesting concept. Especially now that Sam has fed from Darlin, and enjoyed it, and saw how much his mate enjoyed. I think Sam slowly accepting vampirism is absolutely a possibility in the future.

If it ever happens or not I will still adore Sam’s character all the same.

Anyways this was a really long winded way of explaining that I like how Sam subverts the typical tropes with vampires, and I appreciate how it ties into his turning being non-consensual. I like to rant if people haven’t picked up on that already lmao.

Also I miss my girlfriend. Erik bring Sam back home immediately.

[i-cant-sing]

You know it’s kinda a good thing Baldwin and Salauddin didn’t live in the modern day with Tim traveler reader. cause can you imagine those two with cell phones?

Baldwin would be non stop texting. Every minute with new things to say to her. And it’s never paragraphs. No he’s texting single sentences at her.

Salauddin would be the worst to text. Like reader texts him a long paragraph about her feelings and he just comes back with “k.” And if she sends him pictures or anything he takes half the day to respond and even then it’s a dry one word answer.

ACCURATE😭😭😭😭

Cause imagine being in class or at work and your phone's just buzzing nonstop with Baldwin's texts, and you'd think it's because he has an emergency or in danger or something, but it's just him messaging you that he saw two pigeons today and they were cannodling and it reminded him of you, but then he got too jealous of the birds so he threw bread at them to scare them away. And there's a picture of him with the birds cuddling with the the text "aww! Miss u babe!🩷🩷" And then its followed by a video of him throwing bread canon balls at them with him laughing manically in the background and he texts "hurry up and get home before I destroy more animal couples🥰"

And then there's Salauddin and he's the driest texter ever. My brother could not for the life of him, keep the convo going and you could just be telling him the JUICIEST GOSSIP and he'd respond "Ok." And you would think that he just doesn't care about you enough to read your messages but in reality, you could actually quiz him and he'd tell you every detail to the T! He reads into your body language, the way you text, your tone, he studies you obsessively which is why he doesn't need to respond the way normal people do, lest you try to read between the lines and decide you don't like him. He just doesn't wanna give himself away. It's not that he's not good with words, in fact, he's an excellent poet! Salauddin would write the most loving poems for his beloved, but that's something he's saving for a special occasion, like... a wedding anniversary.

I also think that with phones and the technology, Baldwin for sure would keep tabs on you at all times! He's good at hacking, excellent at cyber security and breaching it. Besides, it's just sooo easy to get into your accounts, be just needs to make sure no creep is taking advantage of you.

As for Salauddin, while yes, he could have someone hack into your phone, he prefers to keep you safe by actually having professional bodyguards/assassins that are excellent at hiding in the shadows and being invisible to keep you safe from all the creeps when he's not around to punch them. Even when he takes you out on dates, that fancy restaurant is actually a safehouse of sorts. All the other customers there are hired professionals and their main job is to detect anyone who could target you or him. He has snipers on nearby buildings, ready to take care of anyone who tries to enter the closed off street to the restaurant with suspicious intent.

[fairyminnie444]

— How to feel your desire in a natural way even if it seems unlikely?

Feeling the desire as something natural, even if it seems unlikely, is a matter of adjusting your mind and emotions to believe that it is already part of your reality. Here are practical steps to help with this process:

1. Reframe the Desire as Something Ordinary

• Start by changing your perception of the desire. Imagine that “winning $25k” or “being with your SP” is as normal as everyday things, like receiving a text message or finding money in your pocket.

• Tell yourself: “This is easy and natural. Many people have this, so I can have it too.”

2. Visualize Simple and Repeatedly

• Instead of imagining big events, visualize simple scenes that would already be natural after having the desire.

• For example, for manifest $25k:

• Imagine yourself opening your bank app and checking your balance.

• Visualize yourself smiling and thinking: “I knew this would happen.”

• For manifest your SP:

• Imagine a casual conversation or a loving message. • Feel comfortable in his/her company, as if it were something routine.

3. Use the Power of Gratitude

• Gratitude helps make any desire feel natural because you act as if you have already received it.

• Tell yourself:

• “I am so grateful to have $25k in my account. It came so easily!”

• “I am so happy to be in an amazing relationship with my SP. It is perfect!”

4. Affirm That It Is Already Yours

• Affirmations help convince your subconscious mind that the desire is already part of your reality.

• For the $25k:

• “Money always comes easily to me.”

• “I am naturally prosperous and wealthy.”

• For the SP:

• “I am loved and desired just as I am.”

• “Our relationship is harmonious and happy.”

Repeat these affirmations until they begin to ring true and normal.

5. Create Familiarity

• The mind finds unfamiliar things strange, so make the desire familiar:

• Watch videos of people who have what you want (but without envy, just to inspire).

• Pretend that it is already part of your daily life.

• For the SP, remember that he/she is already thinking about you and imagine this calmly.

6. Practice SATS

• Before going to sleep, enter a relaxed state (SATS) and imagine that the desire has already been fulfilled:

• For the $25k, visualize yourself buying something or transferring the money.

• For the SP, imagine an intimate moment together, such as holding hands or smiling.

Enter the feeling of happiness and naturalness. Make this a habit.

7. Let Go of the Desire

• Trust that the desire is already yours and do not obsess. Acting with “desperation” or “urgency” reinforces the idea that you do not yet have it. • Remind yourself: “If I already had this, how would I feel? Relaxed, confident, and at peace.” Act from that state.

8. Neutralize Doubts

• When thoughts like “This is unlikely” arise, don’t fight them. Instead, say:

• “No matter what, I know it’s mine.”

• “The impossible happens for me every day.”

9. Do Small Tests

• Manifesting smaller things, like finding a coin, receiving a compliment, or receiving a specific sign, helps strengthen your faith.

• When you see it working for smaller things, it will be easier to believe it will work for the $25k or the SP.

10. Be Consistent and Have Patience

• Making desire natural takes time and practice, especially if it seems unlikely. Persistence is what turns your imagination into reality.

• Remember: the only thing that matters is your belief and your internal state.

If you persist in the state of “I already have it,” without worrying about the details of “how,” the desire will become natural and will inevitably be reflected in 3D. Trust the process!

[aruanimess]

Hi Myrtle, I hope you're having a nice day! I was wondering if you have any headcanons for Castes Aruani?👀 or, alternatively, for Castes Annie on her own!

And btw a hot pink Annie pfp would be sick💪

Hello, Stella!!

Okay, let's see… I don't think there's gonna be that many but here goes:

Annie still does martial arts but she's in a period of her life where she's purposefully bad at it because her father wanted her to go pro and she's resisting.

She used to have pink highlights in her hair but she's too lazy to dye it all the time so now it has faded.

Same goes for makeup and nail polish. Chipped black nails are the way to go for her, and smudged eyeliner is framing her eyes 24/7. The punk/grunge aesthetic was less of a choice and more of a byproduct of her habits.

She's actually a pretty good student. Teachers hate her because she always dozes off in class and shows up late, but when exams come around she always delivers. No one knows how she's doing it tbh.

(Her secret is that she studies pretty hard at home. Her father is pretty strict and his senses are out of this world so sneaking out is not much of an option. There's only so much goofing around with her guitar she can do so she ends up studying more often than not. Also, it's good to know that her mind is still sharp.)

Her crush on Armin started in middle school. They had a project together in literature and he rambled for 45 minutes straight about the influence of gothic literature in modern horror. She was instantly taken with his goofy ways.

Armin is in math club, chess club and debate club and he secretly wants to join the drama club as well but he knows theater kids are considered cringe and he can't take the social pressure at this point, so he has to let it go for now. Well, maybe in college…

He spends his free time playing WoW and league of legends and writing inflammatory video game reviews on Steam for games he has barely played because he secretly loves the drama.

His crush on Annie also started in middle school, just a little bit later. He saw her kick a guy straight to the face and his life was irrevocably changed ever since.

Sorry this took forever, life got crazy and to top it all off I got sick 😭

[mymegrokosmos]

a little soft bf minghao brainrot bc i felt like it. super era shoulder injury hao.

you set your bags down on the counter, dropping your keys by the front door and going to put your things away. by the time you've shrugged out of your jacket, hung it up in the front closet and put your purse in its usual spot on the credenza table in the hallway you're ready to melt into the sofa but there's still more to do before you can relax.

when you get to the kitchen, halfway through tying your hair up out of your face, you find yourself smiling. the familiar sight of your boyfriend's back, clad in his usual leisure attire of grey sleeveless top that leaves just a hint of his shoulders visible, peeks out of the fridge. he's already started putting the groceries away before anything gets too warm. just when you think your fondness for him can’t melt your heart any more than it already has he leans back to look at you from around the door and his soft smile has your heart in shambles.

if it’s possible to become one with the floor you're doing it. you've become a puddle. his shaggy mullet is in disarray, fluffy from where he's run his hands through it, and his face is bare. his usually sharp eyes are framed by big round glasses, softening his gaze as he closes the fridge in favour of coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"hi darling, welcome home. how was your day?"

you'd think after all this time you'd be used to how tall he was but it was still always a bit of a surprise just how much he towered over you up close. you sighed, letting him pull you into a hug and sliding your arms around his slim waist.

"hi. it was okay, very long."

he chuckles and you close your eyes, head resting against his chest. you're careful to lay it against the side of his good shoulder, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as his hand comes up to rest against the back of your head.

"i'm glad to finally be home. what did you get up to today handsome?"

the hand on your waist squeezes lightly and he holds you close for a minute before stepping back with another kiss to the top of your head.

"physio this morning again and then practice, even though I can't do a lot of the choreo yet they still need me for blocking when I can make it. mingyu came by earlier and dropped off some hotpot. why don't you go get into something more comfortable and we can talk about it over dinner?"

sometimes there was nothing better than coming home to everything already being taken care of. you know he misses being at work but being home more means minghao needs things to do. his physiotherapist also says that getting some movement in is good for his progress, so he's been taking care of household chores and spending a lot more time meditating lately to keep himself busy.

the members have been helping when they can. mingyu comes by or gets your boyfriend out of the house at least three times a week now. jun's often over in his free time to run lines with hao or catch up on the latest cdrama you're watching together. you think joshua has even dragged him out to a pottery class or two in their spare time. it's been good for him and the rest is doing him good, even if it makes him a little bit restless sometimes.

you nod. "i'll be right back. do you need me to help with anything?"

"no, just relax and leave the day at the office jagiya."

easier said than done but minghao always made you feel less guilty about sticking by work life balance and keeping them mostly separate. it's also been fun spending more time cooking together, he's good in the kitchen just a little impatient and you're enjoying getting to try out some of his mother's recipes. she's often on video call when you get home, minghao pouting about something while she scolds him playfully or they catch up on their weeks with each other. it's sweet and you love that their relationship only seems to get stronger as time goes on.

"you're still coming to the company dinner next week with me, right?"

another soft smile as he nods. "I'll be there darling. I didn't pick us out matching outfits just to not show up. now stop worrying and go change. you're hovering again."

you are, just a little bit. it's a habit you're still trying to work your way out of. you were a little traumatized when you got the call that hao was in the hospital at first and, though you both know he's fine and capable now, the instinct to make sure he's okay still lingers a little bit.

you sigh and make a face at him. "okay, okay. I'm going."

he just chuckles as you head towards your shared bedroom. makeup and weight of the day finally removed it's time to slip into one of hao's oversized tshirts and the matching cotton pyjama pants he bought for you last christmas. it feels like a cozy day so you take the time to find your slippers too before shuffling back towards the kitchen.

you find minghao stirring a pot of what seems to be mingyu's latest attempt at comfort food and slip your arms around his waist from behind, face pressed lightly against his warm back.

"smells good."

he hums in agreement, hand patting yours where it rests on his stomach. "I think he made enough to feed about seven more people than we currently have in the apartment."

you laugh and lean around him to peek at the food over his arm. "gyu probably plans to use it as an excuse to come over for lunch tomorrow or something. oh no guess you need someone else to help you eat it all."

that makes your boyfriend scoff. "why would he do that when he can just say he wants to come over? he knows where we live."

you kiss his bicep and move to get down some bowls for you both. "because he's kim mingyu and you're you myungho."

your boyfriend stops to look at you, blinking as he pauses his stirring. "I'm still not seeing your point love."

"you know how you don't like when people get too presumptuous about you?" you smile softly. "I wouldn't say he's intimidated because gyu knows you love him but... sometimes he's a little insecure and sometimes you can be a little cold."

he considers this. "he's never let that stop him before."

you smile and let him guide you, one hand on your hip as you slide between him and the pot on the stove to fill your bowls.

"and he won't, I don't think, because at the end of the day he knows that it isn't that you don't like his affection you just don't always know what to do with it and it needs time to process. but I think, and maybe this is just my take, he sometimes worries a little about intruding too much. especially now that you have a relationship outside of just your family and the members and your other friends."

it's quiet for a minute as he takes that in. you dish up hot pot for both of you and take the bowls over to your small dining table. minghao slowly follows behind, face impassive. you'd worry that you upset him but you know that expression. it's not anger or annoyance, he's just lost in thought. you take his hand, press a kiss to the back of it, and watch as he blinks back into the present.

"think about it all you need but let's eat first. like I said, maybe I'm just reading too much into it. maybe he has other reasons. we can finish that new drama and call him later if you want."

your boyfriend nods and joins you at the table, filling you in on his day. you can tell he's only half present but that's okay. by the time you finish and wash up he seems to have come to a decision.

"love?"

"yes myungho?"

he scrunches his nose. "try again please darling."

you laugh but the arms he crosses over his chest tell you he's serious. you smile softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"yes, seo myungho great love of my life and most wondrous of boyfriends?"

he snorts. "closer but still not correct."

"baobei?"

he blinks. "close enough."

you laugh and brush a hand over his cheek, melting a little when he leans into the touch and takes your hand in his.

"you know I'm only teasing you, right?"

he nods. "I do."

you lace your fingers and press a kiss to the back of his hand. "what did you want to say honey?"

"do you mind if mingyu comes over tomorrow? I know it's your day off."

"babe, this is your apartment too."

minghao sighs. you know that look. the exasperated 'are you being serious right now?' stare. you smile.

"no, I don't mind if gyu comes over. just maybe warn me beforehand so I can make sure I have pants and a bra on this time."

that makes him smile, just a little, even as he rolls his eyes at you.

"come help me with my skincare?"

"only if you let me use the good stuff."

"mm we can even wear those matching headbands you like."

"lead the way love."

sometimes all you need after a long day is xu minghao ready with a hot meal, a long hug and a silly fuzzy frog headband keeping the bangs out of his face as he applies 6 layers of different creams to your face.

[snotty-zombie]

Rageous-tober part 3!!

Day 19: Velchid

Day 21: Vampire

Day 26: Orchid

More under the cut ����

Day 19: Velchid

This kinda marks the spot where I started doing more and more for each entry and making life so much more difficult for myself haha I started like adding extra little bits beside the main piece just for fun which made the pressure of posting on time a lot tougher (I eventually said fuck it and just posted them late cuz who gives af haha)

I honestly love drawing full bodies of Rhinestone because she wears such bright clothing and accessories all covered in stickers and charms (her miku keychain is based off of one I own myself reeheehee) and she’s always pulling a funny face

Stark contrast to Velvet with her neat pearl jewellery and tidy hair and delicate acrylic nails. I try to make each part of her outfit somewhat matching and colour coordinated because I feel like her and Veneer are so anal retentive about that sort of thing like they FREAK if something is like slightly off like their shoes and top are different shades of black or whatever- exhibit A, Velvet’s witch costume which is all matching colours as well as her lovely nails and ring

Then there on the bonus pics is Vels tormenting the smelly boys as well as some Velstone angst, they’ll be ok

Day 21: vampire 🧛‍♂️ 🦇 🩸

QUITE PROUD OF THIS ONE, would you believe me if I said I finished it back in mid September because I was so excited for Halloween? I didn’t know I was going to be doing an inktober event this year so when I saw the vampire prompt I shoved this in a box to wait until then to post it

Veneer couldn’t decide between being a cowboy or a vampire for Halloween so he had the genius idea of combining both into one costume… a vampire cowboy! Cowboy vampire- either works. Veneer gives me HUGE vampire energy, just the inherent cuntyness of a vampire mixed with Veneer’s annoying teenage sass is chefs kiss- plus he’s as pale as a vampire anyway so no need for makeup

And his smelly hairy werewolf bf that he can drag along with his lasso and order to bite people

Day 26: Orchid Rhinestone!

Kidding the prompt was Orchid but it was referring to the same Rageon so

This is a really big one haha it was just an excuse to vomit some of my Rhinestone headcannons onto a page and it was sooooo fun

Starting off at the top, she’s a big video game person, only things she spends her hard earned cash on are video games and cosplay materials but she’ll never admit it.

Secret Easter egg moment there of her and Veneer from Jobiesayscheese’s fanfic (my favourite ever fyi, you should totes read it), the girls who know, know.

Sea urchin Rhinestone appearance! Will definitely be seeing more of her because I’m so proud of my furry designs for them all haha omfg, she makes rattling sounds when she moves, particularly when her spines aren’t tied back- I’m sure you can imagine the sound they make, sort of like hollow bamboo being clinked together mixed with jewellery tinkling

AND HER COSPLAY YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE (another ten points if you can name all the cosplays) she’s as hands on as it gets, nothing is bought, everything is hand sewn and glued and all that, she does everything by hand with her own patterns (most of the time), she even managed to convince Velvet to let her make a costume for her one time so they could have a couples cosplay. She also does literally every kind of craft out there and is always knitting or crocheting something for her friends or gf to wear like a cute jumper or a warm winter hat (she’s a giver) or felting holiday decorations as gifts :3c

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3! Part 4!

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Fifteen

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Sorry sorry sorry for how long it's taken for me to update!! Had a lot on and then I got real sick. Hope this is an alright update though:) Continues on from the last scene where they were at the cinema!

Enjoy seeing the articles I tried to make too lmao, they're there not too far down after the first couple paragraphs. Idk what I was thinking w that one, but it felt necessary after the long wait!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy @helloitsme1223 @geekchic48

Masterlist

It was Saturday, and Saturday typically meant that the weekend had finally come. And both of those things had yet to occur whilst I’d been staying in Detroit. Which, in truth, wasn’t the only thing to throw me completely off my game this morning.

Although honestly, it was a really big change.

Rosie wasn’t around yet. Apparently Saturday’s were sacred days within the Mathers household, seeing as the pre-teen liked to sleep in on the mornings she had off from school, which also meant that Marshall got to finally have a lie-in. Or, at least it seemed that way when I’d decided to venture from the confines of my room around about nine, after having had a brief breakdown over everything I’d woken up to.

The media was in meltdown mode.

Every news outlet from here to Beijing was talking about the pictures that had been captured last night in the car park to the theatre, as well as the one’s I’d taken with that particular girl outside of the women’s bathroom. It seemed that other fans had connected all the dots in the time between my head hitting the pillow and now. 

I had zero idea as to what I was meant to do about it all. My phone was blowing up with notifications from every account that I held, as well as friends and even some family members I hadn’t spoken to since I’d told them where they could shove it the last time they’d come sniffing round looking for a payout. 

It was the most nauseating feeling, believing that you’d lost complete control over a situation.

But it was just as I’d gathered up the courage to go knock on Em’s bedroom door that my phone rang once again. Only this time, it was one of the names I’d been hoping to see. 

“Elia, you there?”

A shaky breath escaped me as I pressed my phone closer to my ear, hastily turning on my heel to head down the stairs. 

“Mila.” I exhaled, but even I could hear the anxiety that lined my voice and it wasn’t because Mila and I had barely spoken since the whole argument we’d had over Lottie. No, this was down to me knowing that things had to be really fucked up because my manager had shared that same wavering tone. “I don’t know what to do. Everything– it’s all just blown up in my face.”

There was a long pause which followed my clumsy reply, I used it to slip out of the back garden door to escape the sudden confining feel the house had started to give me. Which seemed so stupid in hindsight, what with how big it was, but that thought alone allowed me to take another deep breath. 

I shivered at the cold that overwhelmed Detroit in the early throes of winter but didn’t care enough to head back inside to grab a cardigan or even a pair of shoes. My mind honed in on the way my life seemed to be crumbling piece by piece, first with Lottie and her dad, then that whole back and forth thing with Marshall, and now this.

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

Rolling my eyes at the answer Mila gave, I could only huff out a mirthless laugh, stressed beyond belief. 

“Yeah, it’s not like my face is plastered over every gossip rag across the world– oh wait, it is.” I sniped back, “And they’re all painting me out to be Marshall’s next big fling, and if not that, then some fucking groupie. Like I’m not a nominated artist too, as though all I am is someone to mooch off of his fame.”

Mila sighed softly, even after my heated retort, and I could hear it clearly over the rustle of leaves as well the birds that seemed to be chirping in the distance. I tried to let them ground me. “I didn’t mean it like that. It probably does look pretty bad from your end–”

I cut her off with a scoff– so much for trying for a bit of calm. “Bad? Mila, bad would have been me spotted leaving Detroit and people conspiring over why I was here in the first place. Not this.” I dragged a tense hand through my hair, “Em is gonna flip his shit when he sees everything.”

She sighed, again, and I could only rub tiredly at my eyes. “Babe, listen to me. You’ve not ever really had any publicity like this,” Mila started, and before I could think to lash back at that remark, she was already beating me to the punch, “And no, before you say anything, not like that. I know that you don’t want anything out of this whole fiasco, believe me the amount of times I’ve had to suffer through just because your ego wouldn’t let you take anything for free is insufferable. But anyway, I simply meant in the way that you’ve not really had many big knocks or hits like this throughout the press. Sure, your family and your background’s been brought up a lot, but babe, those are just conversation starters for you now, it sort of was back then too. This is all just scarier to you because it’s new.”

I had to take a second to really hear Mila’s words, for them to sink and settle before I could analyse them. In a way, she wasn’t completely wrong. I could at least admit that. Didn't mean that I hadn’t faced my fair share of backlash though, just maybe not on this level? And not over someone I was supposedly dating either, my brain unhelpfully supplied.

I closed my eyes, silently wishing for a cigarette I didn’t have, and then unclenched my jaw.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” I confessed to her quietly, then shivered when another harsh wind blew through the garden. I wrapped an arm around myself, to shelter me from the cold air or how exposed I felt, I didn’t know.

Mila stayed silent too, until I heard a large intake of breath and the sound of a door closing on the other side. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re going to talk to Marshall, you’re going to figure out what it is you want, not just him or his team.” She added as a forethought, knowing me far too well. “Then the pair of you, you and him, can decide how and where you want to take this.”

I exhaled slowly and watched as my breath clouded the air, it made me wonder how cold it might have been over in London. “Right.”

Mila continued on, her familiar lilt taking back the weariness which had homed it minutes earlier, “I mean it’s not like anything’s actually happened, if you want to you two can just ignore it easy, wait for this all to blow over. It’s just gossip.”

My eyes widened and I stilled at her words.

But I must’ve been quiet far too long though, because Mila called my name and suddenly I was forcing myself to blink as I attempted to swallow back the memories of that kiss, of him holding my hand with all the care in the world. 

“Right,” I repeated again, then cursed the way my voice cracked on the vowel.

Mila caught it right away and I felt rather than heard her internalise exactly what that could possibly mean, “You haven’t done anything– right?”

My mouth worked over words that wouldn’t quite come out and then winced when I heard my manager drop the phone to curse heatedly in Spanish.

It took a long minute before Mila had seemingly calmed herself enough to return to the call, time in which I spent worrying my knuckle between my teeth and wondering if everything that had happened with Em was even worth mentioning. If it mattered enough to him for me to voice it now. 

“How long have I been telling you that you need to get back out there, to meet somebody and have some fun? I’m glad you took my advice, really, but I didn’t quite mean wrangle the biggest old-school rapper into your bed whilst holidaying in his mansion!”

I let my head fall into the hand not holding my phone and pinched at the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want to regret it, the things that had happened with Marshall, but Mila was sort of right. What had I really expected to happen between the two of us? He was a Dad, more famous than anyone could hope to be, and a tad bit older… Okay, a fair bit older– a decade, sue me. Hollywood had seen worse.

That wasn’t even it though, how had I yet to consider what the media, the press, the fans would think of it all? I supposed I’d pretty much found out.

“I didn’t sleep with him.”

Mila made an odd sort of noise at my admission which sounded tinny through the speaker, “Don’t lie to me now! Those photos don’t offer much, I’ll give you that, but babe, there was some sort of connection there.”

I fish mouthed again. 

Mila didn’t seem to note the silence, “People are in actual awe over the look one picture managed to capture on his face! There’s no way you haven’t got that man wrapped around your finger.”

Blinking, I tried to recall what image she could possibly be talking about. I hadn’t seen anything of the sort. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Mils. Nothing like that has happened. It was just–” My mouth felt dry, the sort of dry you’d experience after being lost in a desert for days or just swallowed a spoonful of flour.

“Just what?” Mila prodded.

And I forced myself to finish my sentence, stare caught on the dampness that clung to the soles of my feet, “A kiss.”

–

I had a list now. 

Of tasks to complete, one of which warned me to stay off all social media for my own good. Mila’s orders, not my own. But still, I couldn’t quite part with my phone even as I stepped back through the garden door into the kitchen, shivering at the rapid change in temperature and the sick feeling of anxiety that welled inside of me. 

Even with that though, I noticed how the house now seemed to buzz, in a way which had me figuring that I was no longer the only occupant awake. So I swallowed back the lump of worry that sat heavy in my throat and made to trail my way further inside, ignoring the slight chill of tile that followed my feet. 

I found him stood at the very top of the stairs with Rosie hanging off his hip, the silliest of grins plastered across her face which only appeared to brighten upon seeing me. “El!” She called out in excitement before she turned to fix her father with a ‘told you so’ glare, “See, she is awake!”

Marshall rolled his eyes at the rebuttal, but did evidently blow out a huffed chuckle in turn, choosing to let his daughter slip down his side and out of the captive hold he’d had her in for my supposed sake. He shook his head at her before he then turned to me, the exasperated look he’d gifted her disappeared the moment he saw my face. “You good?” He asked me, brow furrowing as Z peered between the pair of us.

“Where’s your phone?” Is all I answered him with.

His expression deepened at the nonanswer, but he scratched his head in thought before he recalled, “Chargin’ downstairs, I think. Died when we got home.”

Home, home, home.

I realised, not for the first time, that I’d taken to thinking of it that way too. Calling it London and not home each time it got brought up.

Swallowing once more, I felt another wave of nausea overwhelm me. Rosie’s head tilted in confusion as she quietly made her way down the staircase, hand sliding over the wooden rail. “I–” I tried, but fumbled for the right words to say. If there even were any. I let go of another breath, “You should go take a look.”

Marshall greeted my words with a look of reservation but did move to step down off the landing, making it to the bottom just as Rosie crowded me, her smaller figure slotting into my side with ease. I allowed a hand to come up and cradle the top of her head, hoping that whatever transpired from this wouldn’t sour things enough to send me back to London early.

And why was that my only hope? Instead of the way this could all impact me and my career, or the people around Marshall?

I didn’t move to follow Em as he made his way into the kitchen, socked feet padding over the tiled floor, much preferring the warmth that radiated from Z as I fought not to worry at my knuckles once more. I didn’t know whether or not I wanted to bear witness to his reaction. 

“You’re freezing.” 

The words caught me by surprise and so I blinked away from where I’d just been staring off into the distance, then peered down at the girl whose arms were wound around me. Rosie had her head tilted back, chin resting on the curve of my arm as she waited for an explanation. 

“Sorry, just stepped outside for a minute,” I apologised to her whilst simultaneously answering the unasked question. It was subconscious, the action to rub a gentle hand up and down her arm in hopes to warm the pair of us up a tad, and Z countered her previous words by burrowing in closer. 

“Are you leaving then?” 

That next question immediately had me frowning, wiping away all the previous doubts that had just been running rampant through my mind. 

“No, not yet.” I assured her softly, peering down at her once again. Her face was half-hidden, blonde hair mussed by sleep, and in that moment she looked so much younger to me. “Why you asking, hoping to get rid of me?” I teased sweetly, hoping that the method wouldn’t send her skittering into her shell and instead give me something of an honest answer.

The girl shook her head against my arm, then shrugged, “Just, you looked sad.”

A sad smile slowly eased over my features at that and I couldn’t help the way I squeezed her tighter. “Busy morning, I think.” I said in comfort, then thought about my next words, “But even if I was sad, doesn’t mean I’d just pack up and leave. Me and you, we’ve bonded, gonna have a hard time getting rid, okay?”

I pinched her side playfully with that, a move that had her squeaking and tripping over her feet to get away from my attack whilst still staying plastered to my side. “Don’t! You’re actually the worst!”

Laughing as she dissolved into giggles too, I relented on the tickling. And it was just as I went to reply that a sound had my head snapping up and over towards the kitchen doorway, heart stilling in my chest at the sight of Marshall stood there, phone in hand, his face void of any emotion.

“We need to talk.”

Rosie appeared to be all too aware of the sudden tension that dragged between us then, as well as the coil of nerves which straightened my spine, because she let her arms slip from my waist and took her hand in mine, squeezing ever so as she turned to look up at me. Obviously confused, she had no words to offer but the sentiment was clear anyway, she cared enough to stand against her Dad without even knowing what was going on.

It threw me completely.

Marshall seemed to catch on to the silent protest too, his blank expression flickering with evident surprise before he managed to unclench his hand from around his phone and drag it over the top of his head. He slumped, the ridgid stress he’d just been wearing melting ever so slightly. “We just gone talk, Z. She ain’t goin’ nowhere, I swear it’s work stuff. Something happened and now we gotta work out how we gone fix it, baby. That’s all.”

Z stared long and hard back at Marshall and the man met her eyes dead on, showing her he only meant the truth. His words seemed to appease some part of her, I deemed, enough to have her tightening her hold on my hand once more before she reluctantly pulled away. 

I only wished that they’d had the same effect on me.

“That mean we’re not having pancakes then?” She wondered as she trailed across the hallway to head towards the kitchen, Em’s shoulders dropped slightly when she approached and he moved to run a hand through her hair.

“Promise is a promise. Jus’ have to wait a little longer, cool?” He answered, gazing down at her before he finally allowed her to slip by after she’d given him a nod. It was with that in which he turned to face me again and I had no idea what was going to go down, let alone how he was going to react. So when he silently gestured his head off to the side, I could only force my feet into following behind him.

We ended up in a small office just off of the living room, one I hadn’t really been in before now and that was decorated sparsely enough to ensure that no one else did either, at least not often.

Marshall took perch at the desk in there, large and mahogany, and leaned across it to start up the computer monitor stationed on its top. I found myself trailing after him, shuffling awkwardly on a dark rug for a second over where to sit before I just rolled my eyes at myself and moved around the desk to sit on its corner, uncaring for the way Marshall’s brows lifted in slight surprise. Because honestly, if we were going to do this then I wanted to see what the fuck the media was rioting over too, and how was I meant to do exactly that from the upholstered cushion sat on the desks opposing side?

He didn’t comment on it, though his eyes did trail over me for a split second before the screen flickered through the usual start up and login. I watched him type in his password, noting how he didn’t much seem to mind me peeking, before my eyes flitted back down to his face, taking in the way the monitor's light flickered over his skin and how his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.

I wrung my fingers together in a way that would occupy my mind, mouth pursing at the sight of the slightly reddened knuckles I’d abused earlier. My stare must have caught Marshall’s attention too because I startled a tad when he reached out to pause my fidgeting, gaze lingering on the raised skin before the pad of his thumb moved to soothe it. 

Suddenly my tongue felt too big for my mouth and all I could do was stare before his startled gaze flickered up to meet me. It almost appeared as though he hadn’t even realised he’d done it. 

“Z’s okay, right?” I found myself asking him as I cleared my throat after he’d withdrawn his hand.

His sniff filled the silence as his arm jumped over to grab the mouse, now focused on the screen. “She um,” He coughed lightly, the click of the keys filling his tense pause, “She gets a little weary about shit like that, I guess. People leaving. Had a lot of ‘em come in and out of her life, figure it fucked with her a bit.” Marshall admitted gruffly, purposely paying attention to the computer now instead of meeting my eye. 

I continued to watch him though, content to wait. My patience earned me a little more.

“Thought she’d grown outta it though, you know? Used to cry for her mom when she’d drop her off, or when I took her to school. Shit was always worse when I had to tour. Couple years back, she even got upset when Maria, our cleaning lady, moved States. Didn’t come outta her room for days.” He shrugged lightly as he recalled it, acting as though it didn’t much bother him anymore, but I could tell that it was eating away at him still, how much he blamed himself for Rosie’s struggle. “Figure she likes you enough that it’s sort of– I dunno.” He sighed, then waved it all off, desperate to move on it seemed, “You know what, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

I wanted to sigh then too, because how could he think that I’d allow that to just slide?

“I’m here for her too, you know.” I heard myself say after a second or two had passed and kept myself from looking over at him to garner his reaction to that particular statement. This was meant to be work. I was just here to work. Though, that reminder had long since grown old. “I get it, being scared to attach yourself to new people in fear that they'll hurt you by leaving too. And Rosie, she’s not messed up for feeling that way, it’s just a coping mechanism. One a lot of kids experience–”

Em scoffed at that and my eyes instantly snapped over to find him shaking his head at me.

I narrowed my eyes a tad, but not unkindly or in defence, just a little perplexed. 

“It’s true. Sure, they might not all have had a childhood like hers or mine, or even yours.” I acquiesced, “But even the kids who have that apple pie type life and grow up with cookie cut families can still be scared about those they love leaving. Like because their Dad works abroad a lot so they don’t see much of him, or how someone forgot to pick them up this one time and made them wait so now they’re fucked up forever.” 

I smiled at the small laugh that escaped from Marshall at that, probably thinking over how normal that had probably been for him as a kid. I got it. “Mind’s weird, man. Kids are adaptable, but they get just as scuffed up as the rest of us. Z’s the same, but she’ll figure it out.”

“Or, jus’ do what you did and hold onto it so tight that people have to fight their way into her life.” Em countered easily, earning an audible gasp from me before he was smirking away and reaching out to poke a finger into my knee, assuring me that it was all in jest, “And don’t call me man, that shit’s weird.”

“Why not? What’s wrong with man?” I protested, grinning now as I started to pester him, “We’re homies, aren’t we? Buddies? Brothers?”

I cackled when he reached up to crowd a hand over my mouth, shaking his head all the while, even as I shimmied to try and escape his onslaught.

“What about bud?” I asked him from over the top of his hand the second I could, trying to steer my head away as I swatted him with my foot in retaliation, “Or dude? Hey, how about bro? Bro’s a good one!”

“Elia.” Marshall warned in a low tone once he finally caught my wrists in his hands, stilling me completely. Though I could see the tiny beginnings of his smile.

My eyes flashed upwards to meet his when he stood up from the desk’s chair, “Yeah?” I only continued to push, hoping that it would get me somewhere. Where though? I had no idea.

“You talk too much.”

My smile was far too smug.

“First time I've ever been told that.” I rebuffed, letting myself lean a little further into his hold.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Humming, my eyes flickered between his own. “What do you want me to call you then?”

Marshall stared back at me unblinkingly for a long second, before his gaze dropped to my mouth then away again. “Guess that’s jus’ another thing we can go ahead and figure out.”

[mlqueen89]

Two | Ego

i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life  

Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |  

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).    

word count: 9,776 

summary: “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.” in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar.  

A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service. 

this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.

working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥  

Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.     

“I sat on his face, Yan,” Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark he’d made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasn’t put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. “Now I have to work with him.”  

Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a “girl dinner,” which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didn’t bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box she’d seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house.  

“I dunno,” Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box she’d retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. “Maybe he’ll forget?”  

The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the tower—the usual M.O. of any other airfield she’d worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning.  

To her relief, she didn’t see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadn’t necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, she’d had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.   

When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that he’d be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot.  

Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland… somewhere, anywhere far away from him.  

By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasn’t home. She wasn’t sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake. 

When she’d instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes. 

Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommate’s general direction. “Forget? He’s a pilot, it’s highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. There’s no way he’s going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.”  

Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, “Before you say it: Bradley doesn’t count. He’s a weird… mustachioed outlier.” 

Data couldn’t track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a time—just when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, she’d been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didn’t fit the mold of the pilots she’d met.  

“Okay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?” Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. “For all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and you’re just another girl in the long line of hook ups?”  

Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. “Great. That makes me feel so much better.”    

Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. “Let’s have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?”  

“Are you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yan’s version?”  

“How about we split the difference?” Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a two—handed grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. “If I was your therapist, I’d say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?”  

Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there.  

How did the embarrassment of working with a man she’d slept with serve her?  

Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes.  

Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that he’d dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadn’t realized she’d been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. She’d made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of making.  

The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment he’d been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. She’d melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlin’ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager he’d sounded when he’d asked her what she wanted from him and how he’d nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told. 

Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen.  

The embarrassment didn’t serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldn’t happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldn’t happen again—especially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, she’d get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her life’s work. 

Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldn’t have sex with Voldemort again. Couldn’t risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldn’t let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas. 

“It doesn’t.” 

“Exactly. I’m not sure what just went through your beautiful noggin’ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular night—this guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.” Ellie wasn’t sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. She’d let it slide for Yan. 

“Also, don’t think I don’t see it,” Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellie’s general direction. “I’m being nice and I’m not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.”  

“In my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?”  

“Oh, that’s just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.” Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, “let’s be real though—we’re in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.” 

Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yan’s paper plate. “So, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?” 

“More like mirror it. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I won’t, but if I could talk about it, I’d say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.” 

Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to. 

Yan was right. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was thinking straight when he’d looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadn’t been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when he’d touched her waist and leaned in close. 

Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. “What would friend Yan say?”  

“As your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, I’d say,” Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, “so what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didn’t know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasn’t. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like you have to work directly with him, right?” 

“Except I actually do.” Ellie sighed—she'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. “I’m the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. He’s part of the team they’ve recalled—he’s one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.”  

Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. “Okay. First—love the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe he’s, like, cool? Like, he hasn’t been a complete ass about it yet, right?” 

“He pretended like he didn’t even know me,” Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark he’d made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. “Which, I guess is fair, since we didn’t exactly exchange names before....”  

“... before he fucked your brains out?” Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in.  

Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them. 

“Okay, so, he’s trying to be professional. That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink. 

Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—weird? I don’t know how to act around him now.” 

“Oh girl, act like it didn’t happen, obviously. We both know you’re the queen of compartmentalizing, right?” 

Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. “This is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasn’t planning on hooking up with someone I’d have to see every day.” 

Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. “Well, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. You’ll see him for as long as he’s front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.” 

Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. “You make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.” 

“As my grandma used to say—God rest her soul—” Yan continued, hearing Ellie’s comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, “pussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. You’re holding all the cards.” 

“Set the tone?” Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didn’t bother to ask why Yan’s grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level. 

“Yeah,” Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellie’s hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, “you’re the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. He’s just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.” 

Ellie shrugged, avoiding eye—contact with Yan. “Maybe you’re right.” 

Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. “I’m always right, girly pop.” 

“Oh, is that right, huh?” Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.   

Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. “You know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrow’s another day, and you’re not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if he’s gorgeous and a generous partner.”  

Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. “God, this is a mess.”  

“Eh,” Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. “Messy is more fun. Let’s watch Love is Blind Brazil, there’s apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isn’t over her ex—” 

“Speaking of,” Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. “What happened to Frankenstein?” 

“Oh, turns out he couldn’t keep it together,” Yan didn’t bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, “needed someone with a bit more heart.” 

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004 

Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt. 

She’d woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didn’t come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left. 

It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base. 

“Dad, we’re not supposed to be here,” Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her father’s as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode he’d called it. In her chest, Ellie’s heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all.  

Rick “Hollywood” Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I know the boss.” He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after all—the coolest person in the world.  

Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellie’s eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one she’d only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellie’s breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him. 

Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. “Come on, squirt,” he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the plane’s body. “Want to see where the magic happens?”  

Ellie’s eyes widened as she gazed at the jet’s gleaming surface. “This is your plane?”  

“All mine,” he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO.  

As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. “That’s the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, it’s here, in the nose too—probably the most important thing in the whole bird.”  

Ellie’s eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. “Why?” Her face scrunched in thought.  

“Because without it, I wouldn’t know what’s coming my way. You see, when you’re flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around you—what’s out there, who’s out there.” He turned, giving her a proud smile. “That’s where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?” He winked. “They’re sitting right behind the pilot.”  

“Like the RIO?” she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfather’s name.  

“Exactly.” He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the “lady butt” as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didn’t care. The weight of it made her feel important—like she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad. 

“Dad…” Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. “What’s it like? Flying up there?”  

Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. “It’s like…freedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when you’re up there, you feel like you can do anything.”  

Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. “Maybe I can be your RIO one day?”  

Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. “You’re already halfway there, kid. One day, you’ll be up there with me. I’ll be the one flying, and you’ll be the one keeping me safe, making sure we’re on the right track.”  

Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Promise?”  

“I promise,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dad’s footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. “Just don’t tell your uncle Wolfman. You’ll be putting him out of a job and I don’t know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.” 

For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she could—her hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.   

He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. “Alright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”  

Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldn’t help but glance back at the jet.  

“I think we just found your call sign, huh?” Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. “Eleanor Rio Neven.” 

Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. “I like it.” 

“Rio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.” 

One day, she thought. One day she’d earn that call sign. 

Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasn’t Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasn’t the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds.  

Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button.  

“Comm Center 11,” the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, “that’s clear across the airfield from here. You’ll have to take the perimeter; they’ll be running drills at this time. Pattern’s full.”  

“Thanks.” Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base.  

Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things weren’t heavy individually—a few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBook—but stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape.  

The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels.  

“Need a hand?”  

The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned.  

Hangman. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yan’s voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.   

Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasn’t sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely. 

“No, I don’t need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,” she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment. 

Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. “You’re a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me Jake…” he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, “since we’ve already been… acquainted.” 

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. “I’m aware of what happened. That was… before.” Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. “This is work, not—” 

“Not what?” he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. “Not two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?” 

Great. So he hadn’t recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. She’d have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups? 

Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. “That’s exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. That’s it,” Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. “One night. A one-time thing.” 

This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didn’t speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did. 

“Listen, I don’t know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It won’t happen again.” She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. “I’m here to do a job, that’s it.” Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. She’d taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again.  

His eyebrow quirked up, but he didn’t look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. “My angle?” He repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter. His tone was teasing and light. “So, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didn’t need the confirmation. “I don’t know what it is, yet” the box pitched, and Hangman’s hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. “But yes, I’m sure you have one.”  

Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot she’d ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, do me a favour—don’t. You’re not fooling me.”    

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that she’d said no and turned down his help.  

Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jake’s hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good… really good. 

“Careful there,” he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. “It’d be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.” 

Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasn’t willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact. 

“I can handle myself, thank you” she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels. 

“Never said you couldn’t.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didn’t fade. “But just so we’re clear, if you ever need a hand, I’m around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.” 

Ellie didn’t answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldn’t feel Jake’s eyes on her. 

As she walked away, she heard him call out, “See you around, Ace.” 

“303,” Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that weren’t hers. “304,” she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door. 

She’d broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time she’d made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace she’d kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man she’d been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, she’d hit her workout goal for the entire week. 

“305.” 

Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing. 

Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didn’t get windows, especially not eastern facing windows.  

The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadn’t changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door. 

Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke. 

“Hey, Rio.”  

The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source.  

The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots he’d watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere. 

Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick. 

Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. “I think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractor’s, that’s for sure.”  

Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man she’d met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. “Pulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywood’s kid.” 

She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. “Well, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think it’s a bit much.” Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right.  

Her “office” at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. She’d accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. “I was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less… light.” 

Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. “How’re you doing, kid? How’s Miramar treating you so far? Wouldn’t expect it’s anything Rio couldn’t handle.” 

“Rio,” Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time she’d heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, “haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m good.”  

She’d leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadn’t been expecting him to be here, hadn’t expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. “So, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?” 

“Something like that.” A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. “I figured I’d be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramar’s not the… smoothest place to transition into.” 

Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldn’t help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Stark—welcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasn’t sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade. 

There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy. 

Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understood—he almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadn’t ever been any Admiral���s favourite pilot—especially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadn’t been dishonourably discharged… yet.  

There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between. 

“Smooth is overrated,” Ellie scoffed, shrugging. “I’m here to work—maybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if I’m lucky.” 

Maverick’s laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide.  

“Good,” he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. “Well, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, I’ve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want to—” Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia.  

“Yeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.” 

Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side. 

“So I’ve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,” Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. “It’s really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didn’t mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.” 

“I mean—” Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, “it’s all still relatively untested….” 

She pointedly ignored Mav’s mention of her dad. Hollywood wasn’t exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead. 

“Still. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.” Mav didn’t push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. “It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. I’m putting my weight behind this one, Rio—that counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.” 

“I hope so.” Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. “How do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources they’re allocating for this?” 

Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. “Good news or bad news?” 

“You know me, Mav—news is news.” 

“Well, they’re giving us pilots and significant testing time. They’ve put me on the testing schedules too, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. We’ll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.” Maverick’s fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm. 

“Okay, that sounds like the good news to me….” Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. “I’ll get Records to pull the pilot files—”   

“No need, I’ve got them here.” Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. “Fifteen pilots. They’re the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. They’re giving us four of our choosing.” 

Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. “Well, to be honest, I was expecting far less—”  

“We have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. They’re giving us two and a half months.” Maverick’s words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellie’s eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldn’t find. Maverick didn’t lie, he wasn’t the type. 

And there it was: the other shoe. 

Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. “No pressure, right?” 

“RADM Stark is in our corner for now—Admiral Simpson has made it clear he’ll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,” Maverick didn’t sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about him—it wasn’t in his nature to soften the blow. “I think you and I would both prefer that it’s with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.” 

Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay then, deep ending this.” 

“Pick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. I’m looking forward to reading your report.” Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Let’s say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.” 

“Careful Mav,” Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, “that sounds an awful lot like protocol. You’ve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.” 

Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. “This isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or not—” Mav’s knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her mother’s maiden name, “—the Nevens have a way of making things happen. You’re where you’re meant to be.” 

“Thanks.” 

Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. “Oh, Ellie?” Maverick’s head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. “I brought you a little office warming gift.” 

Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying. 

“Penny picked it out.” Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellie’s gaze didn’t shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. “0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.” 

With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden. 

The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime. 

Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellie’s eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverick’s, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign. 

Next to him, Wolfman, her dad’s RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywood’s shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokes—always inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh. 

On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best. 

The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jet’s sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight. 

It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincible—a moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together. 

Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug. 

If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions. 

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.”  

Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. “Keep taking my money, Hangman and you’ll have to tell Nic why I can’t take her out on Friday.”  

“Oh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend can’t handle his balls?” Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. “You know, I’d be real happy to do that, Rooster.” Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, “how ’bout I let you break first then, give you a head start.”  

As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jake’s mind wasn’t on the pool game, or the growing pile of Rooster’s cash.  

Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jake—surprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O. 

After he’d seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadn’t managed to catch her again. 

The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jake’s focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot.  

“Nice shot, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. “I think this might be the first time you’ve hit something clean all week.”  

Rooster’s breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. “Just wait, Bagman,” Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking me for a loan.”  

“Bold for someone down to their last twenty.” Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shot—missing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadth—before stepping in to size up the table, tutting. “Might have to start playing some tunes for tips,” he nodded over to the piano in the corner. 

They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jake’s inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter. 

“So,” Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. “We have a new radar tech or something—Rigby?” Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didn’t know her name, pretended he didn’t like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day. 

As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. “Rigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. She’s Nic’s best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.” Rooster set his beer down carefully, “Why? What’s your angle?” 

Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. “No angle,” he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. “Just curious. Seems like she’s got the brass wrapped around her finger already.” 

“That’s because she’s good at what she does,” Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. “Smart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she won’t put up with any crap. Not the usual type you’d chase, though,” 

Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadn’t expected, missing the striped ball he’d lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Rooster’s turn. “Who says I’m chasin’, Bradshaw?”  

Rooster’s response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. “Sure, man, whatever you say,” he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.” 

Jake smirked, but didn’t respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Rooster’s gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been brewing since he’d seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When she’d let him come back to her place and he’d fucked her until her knees shook, he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if she’d known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad. 

Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. “Say I’m curious for… curiosity’s sake: what’s her deal? Anything I should know?” 

“Oh shit—you really don’t know…” Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. “You don’t know who her old man is, do you?” 

Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. “Her old man?” 

Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. “Rick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that he’d never walk again.” 

Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. “You tellin’ me she’s Neven’s kid?”  

Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jake’s mind. “Yeah, man. That’s Rigsy’s dad. Big shadow to live under. She’s been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what I’ve gathered.” 

Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasn’t just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived in—but from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadn’t mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm. 

“She doesn’t really talk about him much,” Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jake’s shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didn’t want to admit it. “Nic says it’s a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.” 

Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. “Damn.” 

“You’re in over your head with that one, Hangman,” Rooster said with a knowing smirk. “She’s not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs she’s throwing out, she sure as hell won’t make it easy.” 

“Wouldn’t be any fun if she did, Rooster.” Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. “Wouldn’t be any fun if she did.” 

tags bbs: @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @avengersfan25 @jbennsquared @dempy @obsessed-fan-alert @djs8891 @lunatygerqueen @Khouse712 @alipap3 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96

taglist if you want to be added/removed!

[dumpywrites]

Osculate - Jung Hoseok / J-Hope

Prompt: You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: friends to lovers, producer! Hobi, slight drama, slow burn(?), mentions of cheating ex

Pairing: Hoseok x she/her reader

a/n: Welcome back Hobi <3 this is my first time writing about him! Also this turns to be longer than expected but we love the drama hehe

The gentle touch. 

The soft feel of a pair of lips touching yours for a brief moment. 

You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?

The thoughts were going on circles in your head. 

The first thing you realized when you woke up was a pang of headache. Of course, you were supposed to listen to your friends. Maybe drinking gin straight from the bottle wasn’t such a good idea. Of course it was not, but your ex was in the function.

The worse part was that he couldn’t even be considered as an ex. It had been a little over six months since the whole drama with Jaehyun. You went through somewhat of a situationship with him. Honestly, you liked the guy, couldn’t exactly say you had strong feelings for him, but you both agreed to enjoy the flow and get to know each other at a slow pace. For two months you both did all things couples do without any label, but it was not the main problem cause you had a conversation before about it… right? WRONG. He had a girlfriend the whole time. What a joke. 

Truth to be told, you were not that upset to see his face there. To you, even though he had basically ruined your perspective of men forever, it was all in the past. You couldn’t forgive him but there was nothing you could really do, life was just like that sometimes. What disheartened you was your friends inviting him in the first place. 

You had only ever told the whole story to two of them, that being Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon was the one who you called the first second you found out, and Jungkook the next day since you knew Jaehyun from him after all. You hoped that telling him would at least make him consider their friendship and to not trust him anymore, but you continued to see him occasionally in the photos of their stories.

Maybe Namjoon and Jungkook never told the others about it, it wasn’t their fault that Taehyung didn’t know and decided to invite him to his birthday party. Who knows, who cares. You were on your sixth shot of the night and you were feeling emotional. Fuck your friends for being insensitive really. 

Soon after the shots turned into drinking directly from the bottle, the memories were quick to fade away in a blur. 

“How did I even get here…” You mumbled to yourself. You still had the mini dress from last night on, but you were wearing your hoodie on top of it. You wondered if this happened because the person who helped you knew where you kept your hoodies. Coming from the party, the only people who could possibly knew that information were probably Namjoon, but that man couldn’t drive to safe his life. Was it Jin? After all he also had been to your place a few times before to play some video games, at least he knew where your bedroom was. 

The noise coming from your kitchen did sound suspicious though. 

“Hoseok?!”

You were very surprised to find him, considering he had never been to your place before and you couldn’t remember any major interaction with him the night before. 

“Finally!” His smile almost blinded you. “You alright? Sorry I had to use your kitchen, but I made us some pancakes.”

“I’m fine, thank you… I uh… what happened?” You said, sitting down on your dining table. 

“You got super drunk last night, long story short I got you here. Namjoon helped but he had to leave. We were worried to leave you alone, so that's why I'm here. Thank God you got your keys on a carabiner on your belt, or else we wouldn’t be here.”

“Gosh, what happened in between?”

“Nothing much, you were just dancing around, spilled drink on Taehyung and his girlfriend, not sure it was an accident though, and unfortunately you couldn’t make it to the ladies restroom so you puked right in front of the door.”

“Shit…” You facepalmed. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“Come on, I’ve seen you drunk before it’s fine.” He said while placing the pancakes on two different plates. 

“But it wasn’t like this.” You shook your head. 

“It’s fine.” He smiled, somehow the look in his eyes softened. “After what happened with Jaehyun, honestly… I get it.” 

“Oh.” You looked down to your lap. “Did Namjoon tell you?” 

He paused, finally taking a seat next to you on your small dining table. “You kinda told me last night…”

“Of course I did.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Sorry for trauma dumping, I guess.” 

“You don’t remember anything?!” 

“I don’t remember anything after I finished that bottle of Bombay Sapphire.” You shrugged, bitting your inner cheek. 

“That’s… unfortunate.” He flashed a disappointed grin. “Although I must say, I’ve always secretly hated that guy for no reason, glad to finally have one.” He sneered. 

You looked at him amusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me before?!”

“Dunno, I just feel like I don’t have anything to backup my opinion and I saw how you looked at him. I just knew you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Fair.” You said with a spoonful of pancake in your mouth. 

“Hey, I’ve told you this yesterday but I’m gonna repeat myself again since you don’t remember anything,” He smiled, moving his body to face your direction. “It’s not your fault. He did that because he’s a bad person and that has nothing to do with your quality as a human being.”

You sighed. “Seems like I done told you my insecurities as well.” You threw a sad smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“If you ever need validation again, come to me. But I’ll be charging you next time.” He grinned and proudly opened his arms. 

You laughed. “The pancake’s lowkey fire though, I must say. I’ll treat you a meal next time.”

You ended up ordering some Chinese food while watching old Harry Potter movies in the background. Somehow the conversation just kept going and you didn’t know before that hanging with Hoseok was this much of fun. You even let him borrow an oversized T-shirt of yours before going home, since you felt bad that he was still with what he wore yesterday. 

You had fun and the question of a faint memory soon left your mind. Why bother? It was probably just a stranger that you would rather not know about. 

From later getting the meal you promised him, the friendship only continued to blossom more from there. 

**

It was a random day after work when you decided to join Yoongi and Namjoon in their studio. Hoseok was supposed to join later after visiting his parents. The cool thing about having producer friends was that you could basically get free early listen to various singers’ songs. And their studio being very cozy and spacious was also a plus point. The company they worked for was also quite chill about visitors. 

“Jimin just texted me, he said he wants to join just for the preview of the song I’m writing for Megan Thee Stallion.” Namjoon said after reading his text. 

“Isn’t his dance class not done until eight or something?” You asked. 

“He recently switched to morning shift, I heard. Something about being too old to teach in that hour.” Yoongi chuckled. 

“He always say that, but I just know he’s gonna be the healthiest when we are old, cause all of us have jobs that requires multiple hours of sitting down. Unlike him.” You said. 

“Ain’t that right.” Yoongi groaned, suddenly fixing his posture. “By the way, where’s Hobi?” 

“Didn’t he tell you? He’s visiting his parents so he’ll be a little late.” You replied. 

“Just found out about that now.” Namjoon replied, suddenly eyeing Yoongi suspiciously. 

“Well, he’ll probably just be an hour late so don’t worry.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot, I see.” Namjoon said. “Even heard you calling him Hobi now too.”

“All thanks to that drunk accident, I found out over trauma dumping that I actually like hanging out with him.” You shrugged.

“Geez, don’t remind me. It was so hard to convince you to come home that day.” Joon complained. 

“Wait, speaking of that day…”

You had heard the story about when you got drunk and what happened in between. But none of their stories ever mentioned about you kissing someone, which was ironic considering that was actually the only part that you faintly remembered about that night. You were sure you were not dreaming, fantasizing even. You knew it was real. You just needed to know with whom it happened, if any chance your friend witnessed the scene. 

“Did you guys see me kissing anyone that night?” You looked at the guys back and forth. 

“You kissed someone?!” Namjoon gaped. “This is another news to me.”

“I didn’t even see you half of the party cause you were mostly at the dance floor and I never even left the table.” Yoongi said. 

You sighed. “I guess it’s probably just some stranger then. I just hope it’s not Jaehyun, because hell no.” You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“Can’t be him, he was also mostly at our table. Only left after you spilled drink all over Tae and his girl. We got you home right after that.” Namjoon explained. 

“I need to thank you for that, cause heaven knows that fucker wouldn’t stop talking about his new job and how much pay he gets now. Like dude, shut up.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know if Joon or Jungkook ever told you but… something horrible happened between me and Jaehyun.” You looked at Yoongi. 

“I never told them, neither did Jungkook. We thought it wasn’t our place to say so. Looking back at what happened though, we should’ve said something. I’m sorry.” The taller guy said, looking at you with concern in his eyes. 

“It’s fine, I totally get it.” You assured Namjoon. “Me and Jaehyun used to have this situationship thing going on, until I found out that he has a girlfriend.” You said to Yoongi. 

“He has a girlfriend?!” Yoongi asked with widened eyes. You knew it was serious when he started to show a big reaction. 

“Yeah, I don’t think he intends to tell you guys about it too, to maintain his image and all.” 

“That shithead told us he only has two exes and barely go on dates.” Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Why are we still friends with him??? This is fucked up!”

“Jungkook didn’t know the whole story, it’s my fault.” Namjoon spoke again. 

“Guys, it’s fine… I don’t expect you to stop hanging out with someone just because they wronged me.” 

“Uh, you should???” Yoongi protested. “You are our friend too.” 

Your heart softened at the reaction. “I don’t want you guys to fight though…”

“We could just stop inviting him to our hangout.” Yoongi shrugged. 

“We need to tell the others about this, are you sure you’re okay with that?” Namjoon asked, his right hand patting your shoulder. 

“I guess it’s about time.” You sighed. “Just please promise me you’ll hold Jin down in case he wants to throw hands.” You folded your arms, holding back a smile. 

Namjoon laughed. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Just seconds later, you heard the door cracked open. 

“You guys are gossiping without me???” 

Hobi spoke as he entered the studio. He was wearing a jacket, which he took off right upon entering the room, revealing his black T-shirt that now seemed to be slowly transforming into a compression tee with him going to the gym lately. 

“Does he know?” Yoongi asked. 

You nodded. 

“What? What are you talking abou— Oh… don’t tell me it’s about that loser…”

Yoongi’s lips popped a “yup” while Namjoon just sighed. 

“We can finally agree that we should never invite him ever again now, right?” Hoseok said as he took his designated chair. 

“One hundred percent.” Namjoon said, nodding. “By the way, have you ask Hobi if he saw?” The guy pointed at Hoseok while looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your eyebrows raised. “Actually no, I haven’t. Hobi, did you see me kiss anyone at the party?”

Suddenly, the said guy choked on nothing. He quickly fixed his tinted sunglasses, only to then awkwardly take them off, putting them on the table next to his keyboard. 

“I’m sorry, what?!” Hoseok straightened his posture. 

“I’m sure it’s not that much of a surprise, you’re overreacting.” You chuckled. 

“I don’t know… maybe? Who knows. Do you even remember where it happened?” 

You looked at the guy with slight skepticism. “I don’t know. I can’t even remember the face. I remember the feeling??? If that’s not TMI.” You faked a cartoonish shiver. 

“Did you not… like it?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You tilted your head slightly, pondering. “I remember feeling really soft lips, and I actually don’t remember disliking it in any way. But I don’t even know if I was the one who initiated the kiss.” 

“I see.” The guy turned away to face his computer screen. “At least you liked it.” 

“I guess so.” You shrugged. 

Jimin later joined as promised. Both of you quietly listened as the three producers continued on their work. You went out for dinner afterwards and Hobi offered to drive you home, since you used public transport.

There was a bit of oddity in his action’s that night towards you but you couldn’t put a finger on what. He just seemed a like he was holding back something and you didn’t know why. 

You also wondered since when did you start to notice how attractive Hoseok was. Had he always been this way? You were sure he did not change that much from the first day you got to know him. Because lately, he had been glowing, his smile looked extra bright, and the hair looked extra fluffy. 

Sure his fashion taste had developed over the years but he still looked pretty much the same. Maybe you were just dumb not to realize it sooner. Or maybe it’s the new workout routine. Yes, it must be that.

**

You found yourself hanging out yet again at the three’s studio. This time with only Hoseok, since he got something he needed to revise. You were nearby and decided to drop by with some pizzas, knowing how often these guys forgot to eat while working. After texting the group chat, you found out Hobi was the only one there, but the pizza had been bought anyway so you wouldn’t want it to go to waste. 

“Man, remember when you used to be such a fanboy for J.cole? Can’t believe you’re producing for him now. I’m so proud of you, man.” You took a bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in your hand. 

“I know right? I can’t believe he randomly came across my SoundCloud archive.” He grinned happily. 

“You should try, you know… being an artist? You even dance well. Jimin’s words not mine.” 

“Nah, I don’t think I can handle the fame.” He shooed. “Besides, I don’t think I look good enough to be an idol.” He laughed. 

“Are you kidding me?!”

That sounded way too loud from what you intended. 

“Why? You actually think I look handsome or something???” He said with a judgy expression, almost as if he couldn’t believe you. 

“Hasn’t anyone actually told you that?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so— why though???” He seemed truly curious. His eyes visibly widened and he scoffed closer with his chair. 

“Don’t fucking ask why!” You retrieved, actually moving away slightly on the couch. “It just crossed my mind, okay?”

He chuckled. “Are you actually being shy right now?” 

“No, I’m not!” You widened your eyes in horror when he got up from his seat, seemingly moving to sit next to you. 

“It’s fine, I get that you don’t actually wanna admit that I’m hot.” He smirked. 

“Aren’t you the same person who literally seconds ago said that he isn’t good looking enough???” You rolled your eyes. 

He took a slice and munched a big bite. He shrugged at you with a downturned smirk. 

“Forget I ever said that.” You scoffed. 

“You too.” He said after swallowing the food. “I think you’re attractive as well.”

You paused. The atmosphere had now suddenly turned thick. Your lips went tiny bit ajar, starring at him with an unbelievable look. 

“It hasn’t changed since the first time I met you. I’ve always thought you’re attractive.”

“Do not say stuff like that.” You looked away, feeling your body burning up, stomach roamed with butterflies. “You’re making me feel weird.” 

You didn’t know what you did but something changed in his eyes after you said that. His face was now only inches away from you. You didn’t think you had seen him looking this serious before ever in the whole time knowing him. 

It felt too weird, so weird that the back of your mind was quietly suggesting to claim his lips. The idea sounded odd but somehow not unheard at the same time. Should you be weirded out that you were thinking of kissing your friend or should you be weirded out by the fact that the thought of kissing him didn’t sound that preposterous to you? Your silly little brain could only handle so much. 

The sound of door knob turning saved you, or maybe not. Both of you instantly jolted and faced the direction of the entrance. 

“Am I interrupting?” Namjoon peeked. 

“N-No.” You awkwardly scooted away from Hoseok. “I thought you won’t be coming?”

“I left my hard drive.” The tall guy said as he moved towards his desk and grabbing the said item. 

“I see… Uh, do you want pizza? We still have some.”  

“Nah, just had dinner at home. You guys have fun though!” He gave a thumb up before exiting through the door. 

“Yeah, that’s weird.” Hoseok said, putting down his unfinished slice of pizza that he still had in his hand the whole time. “I’m sorry.” He giggled awkwardly. 

“I know right?” You laughed as well, but it sounded so fake that you internally gagged. 

That night the thought of his eyes looking at yours sent electricity down your spine. The butterflies in your belly kept you awake. 

**

After that, the mystery kiss never really crossed your mind again. At the end of the day, you were just glad it was not he who shall not be named. 

Just when your mental state was heading towards a better direction, your luck decided that you had to bump into the said guy, Voldemort himself, Jaehyun. God forbid a woman just wanted to grab herself some snack at a nearby convince store. Of course his new job was near your home, because why wouldn’t it be. The universe just loved to toy with you like that. 

“Y/N? Here let me get that for you…”

“No, thank you.” You forced a smile and shook your head at the cashier, signaling the lady to take your card. 

“It’s fine, they’re just biscuits anyway.”

“And I can pay them myself.” You said and quickly stormed away, hoping you would be left alone. 

“Wait!” He called, but you continued to walk out the store, unbothered. 

You squirmed in disgust when you felt his hand stopping you by your wrist. You stopped but shook his hand off immediately. “What?”

“Can we talk? I’ll be quick I promise.” He said, sounding almost begging. 

“No, there’s literally nothing in this world that can excuse what you did to me so I don’t want any further explanation.” 

“I… I feel so guilty. The past few months I’ve been so grossed out about myself…” He spoke out anyway. He looked at you with a pathetic expression. 

“You did something bad so of course you were supposed to feel awful about it. What part of this is my problem?” 

“I think you deserve a proper apology. So… I’m sorry.” 

“Are you still dating that girl?” You asked sternly. 

“No, we broke up due to distance.”

“Good. That innocent woman doesn’t deserve a lying and cheating fucker like you.” You folded your arms. “Is that it?! I would like to leave now.”

“Are you with Hoseok now?”

“What do you mean??? Are you out of your mind?! What made you thi—”

“I saw both of you kissing at Taehyung’s party.”

A few circuits in your brain just snapped because what in the fresh hell was that. All this time, the mystery man was Hoseok all along??? But he never once told you anything about it, even after you mentioned it. Is it embarrassing for him? Did he regret it? And worse, did you force yourself on him??? There were so many questions pilling up in your head. 

Seeing your zero response, he spoke again. “So, you’re not dating him then?”

“It’s literally none of your business.” You simply said before moving your feet to leave him in a flash. 

You were walking, running maybe? You couldn’t even think straight. You had not even reached your apartment complex yet, but you already took your phone out, calling Hoseok without giving it a second thought. 

“What’s up?” You heard the man picking up the call. “You don’t usually call…”

“I kissed you.”

The line went silent for some good second, before you heard him clearing his throat. “You finally remember?”

“Why didn’t you tell me???” You raised your voice. “I even asked you before!”

“It’s a lot more complicated than what you think.” He sighed. “And correction, we kissed. I kissed you back so you weren’t the only one doing the kissing here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. 

“Are you home? Can I come over?” You heard him sighing again. 

“Uh, yeah I am.” You bit your lips, feeling extremely nervous all of the sudden. “Sure, I guess…”

“Okay.” Was all he said before hanging up the call. 

You were now pacing back and forth at your apartment lobby. The security was already giving you funny looks and so did some of the passerby. You couldn’t care less though, because truthfully, your mind was filled with endless possibilities of what happened and how it happened. Deep down you were glad it was him, but the real question was did he feel the same?

By the time Hoseok arrived you were already sitting on the lobby sofa, clasping your hands together out of cold. The aircon and night air were not such a big help with your nervous sweaty palms. Not to mentioned Hobi in his casual clothes… you might be biased but still!

The walk to the lift and to your room was silent. You wanted so badly to make a small talk, but you couldn’t make yourself to open your lips. And the man who you knew as one of the most cheerful person out there, was dead silent as well, which was killing you. 

“Do you want to drink something?” You finally said after a few minutes of unwieldy silence between the two of you. 

“N-No need!” He shook his head. Did he just stutter?

“Okay.” You took a seat on your couch, in which he followed shortly. 

He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “At first I saw you crying silently near the toilet. You just left after the whole drink-spill accident and clearly were not walking straight. I was worried so I followed you there. By the time I reached you, you had already puked…”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed at the thought of him seeing you puke. 

“It’s alright. Fortunately, you didn’t dirty your clothes from it.” He smiled. “I helped you walk out from the club, and that was when you started telling me everything. I feel so bad that I couldn’t do anything about it other than listening to your cries. But a few minutes later, Jaehyun showed up.”

Your eyes widened. “What did he do?”

“Apparently he was looking to talk with you privately but never got the chance.”

“And what happened?”

“I told him to scram.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not punching him in the face that day. How dare he appear right in front of me just minutes after I found out how much of an ass he is?!!” He said in disbelief. “But he refused to leave.”

“Oh…” You began to see where this was going. 

“He was saying a bunch of nonsense I couldn’t even recall, and just out of the blue, you grabbed me by the collar and just… kissed me.”

You blushed upon hearing the words coming out from Hoseok’s mouth. 

There seemed to be a light shade of pink on his cheeks. “I was so taken aback I didn’t know what to do. I mean… I couldn’t believe the girl I’ve been secretly crushing on just kissed me!”

Wait, what?

**FLASHBACK**

“I just want to talk to her!!!” Jaehyun insists. 

“She’s too drunk right now, so fuck off.” Hoseok spat out. 

“Then I’ll take her home.”

“Over my dead body.” 

And that was when you suddenly pulled him for a kiss. It all happened so quick, that even Jaehyun was also at loss for words, but Hoseok kissed you back, eagerly. That of course made Jaehyun even more uncomfortable, enough to make him finally leave the scene. 

The two of you didn’t stop kissing though. Not for a while. Despite being the sober one, Hoseok lost track of time by the touch of your lips. For a moment it was just you, and your friend, making out in front of a club entrance. The club was at the fifth floor of a building, so you were just kissing each other intensely, next to the elevator, against the glass window, like a couple of hormonal teenagers hungry for each other.

Anyone could see you, in fact, one of your friends might caught you on the act, but that did not stop Hoseok. What stopped him was the thought of you being heavily intoxicated. He did not want to take advantage of you, and clearly did not want you to think about him that way in any shape or form. And so he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry… that shouldn’t have happened.”

Your eyes looked glistening, cheeks red, and your lips were swollen. It took Hoseok almost everything in him to not just grab you and go back to kissing you like crazy. 

You looked up, staring at him with droppy eyes and started tearing up again. You just looked so helpless in his eyes. He was so desperate to ease your pain, but he had no idea how, or even if he were allowed to in the first place. 

“Hey, it’s not your fault… you know.” He sighed and took your right hand, intertwining it with his. “He’s a horrible person and that has nothing to do with you. You’re wonderful. You’re one of the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You only continued to sob, so he pulled you in and hugged you softly. He let you cry for a while before Namjoon and Jimin found both of you outside. They decided it was best if he took her home so Namjoon told him your address and followed Hoseok to his car. 

It was quite the struggle, supporting you and helping you walk to your apartment unit. By this time you were passed out already, so Namjoon offered to carry you, in which Hoseok volunteered in instant. 

Thankfully, your keys were attached to your belt, dangling by a hook carabiner you always liked to use, so it wasn’t hard opening the door. Namjoon opened the door and Hoseok laid you down on the sofa. He took off your shoes carefully before setting them aside. It didn’t seem right to just leave you like that so both of them thought it would be best if someone stayed. 

Long story short, Hoseok carried you to your bedroom. Saw your hoodie laying around and decided to put it on you and leave you in your room. The tiredness then caught up to him, so he crashed out on your couch. 

**

“And that’s all!” The man smiled at you. 

“Hobi, I…” You were speechless. “Thank you… first of all.”

“Don’t mention it. I was happy to help.”

“I didn’t know you have a crush on me…” You said while awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

“At this point I don’t think it’s still a crush anymore…” He breathed out. “I like you, like a lot now.” He grinned happily.

You were once again too stunned to speak. 

“Well, now that it’s out of the bag, I hope it won’t make things weird between us…” He scratched the back of his head. 

“Jung Hoseok, I literally like you too.” You finally said, making you flushed so red that it reached your ears. 

“You do??? Forreal???” He grabbed both of your hands. 

“Yes, for real.” You giggled, still blushing. “Should we kiss again to seal the deal?” 

“Say no more!”

He stood up, which made you raised your eyebrow at him. But a yelp soon escaped your mouth when he suddenly lift you up, twirling you around before kissing you on your lips passionately. You smiled through it, kissing him back with equal devotion. His lips felt so familiar, but not because you had kissed him before. In fact, you barely remembered how it happened. It was because his touch made you felt secured, so safe, like you were finally at home. 

Thank you for reading! 🪩

[crazylittlejester]

Is Warriors ever going to competitively skate again? 🥺

It depends on quite a number of things really

It would not be impossible for him to do so. The biggest struggle someone would probably face trying to come back after three years of retirement is rebuilding strength and skills but Warriors skates around 15 hours a week and he does dance (primarily ballet) for even more than that, so his issue isn’t that he’s lost the ability to do certain things. He just hasn’t grown as a skater really since he hasn’t had guidance from a coach. His overall ‘elegance’ has improved since he is a dancer, so has some of his mobility and technique, but any strictly skating related things haven’t improved. If he’d want to return to competing he’d have to get himself a coach and work his way back into minor competitions and stuff to start off. He’s young, he’s fit, PHYSICALLY it wouldn’t necessarily be a huge issue for him. He can still skate his old programs just fine, he uses them as practice (and there’s a lot to get into with that because he was injured badly enough it required surgery AFTER he’d retired and then he had to go through PT and it was bad for him mentally and he set his old programs as like. a recovery goal which was insane but no one said he was mentally stable- but that’s an unrelated yap) and sure things go wrong and he’ll slip and fall but that’s just life and it happens, but he’s still physically capable of what he was when he retired at 18 (to an EXTENT- his one knee is a little weaker than the other)

As far as what he ACTUALLY wants in life, things get a little more complicated. He loves skating, GENUINELY he does otherwise he wouldn’t be so upset about having left, but he wasn’t the healthiest or happiest from about 13-18 years old because of how he started to view skating as the only thing giving him worth. Any praise or acknowledgment he got from that he took as a reflection of his inherent worth as a person, and he took any failures as him (a PERSON) not being good enough. His mom put him in dance when he was old enough to form a sentence because she was a dancer whose career got cut short and she couldn’t leave the life so she raised her son in it, and Wars didn’t HATE it (obviously, since that’s what he currently does) but he found skating, wanted to try it, and fell in love with it instantly. It was HIS thing, it was special to him, but also it’s his equivalent of the War of Eras in this au (and for Wild, it’s his fight against the Calamity, but Wild is a whole other yap post alskkdkdkdk), and competing really took a toll on him

But again, his ability to view his worth as a human being got messed up because of the environment he was raised in. He got praise and validation for pushing himself too hard, he got praise for training to do jumps his body wasn’t quite ready for, he got acknowledgment and approval for tearing himself apart and thats just what he was USED to, he never knew anything else. He’s still incredibly competitive because of this to the point that Sky and Twi can start recognizing when he’s getting too worked up and they have to let him beat them at a board or video game because he will have a nervous breakdown if they don’t and they don’t know how to help him when he gets like that because the therapy only helped so much and sometimes it’s just easier to let him win because for THEM it’s just not a big deal to lose. He’s gotten better about it, but it was really beat into him from a VERY young age that anything other than the best, anything other than number one is a failure, and that’s poured over into every other aspect of his life

And he’s been able to recognize that and work on it a bit, since he’s stepped away from skating, he’s gotten to a point where he CAN lose at uno and just laugh because he has a handful of 30+ cards and he can enjoy having fun with his friends. He has his bad days and his good ones. Because yeah dance is competitive just as theater is, you have to audition for certain parts you want, but there are multiple good roles in a show, there can literally be two different parts that are completely equal, and stepping away from skating has been GOOD for him in his first couple years of adulthood because he’s been able to spend some time trying to find himself and be kinder to himself when he isn’t at the top. He’s also been able to make actual genuine friends in his field for the first time in his life because he isn’t paranoid about how they’re viewing him as just a threat and he can actually TRUST them. Granted most of his dance friends are women so they’re not really competing for the same roles anyway, but he’s been able to make male friends too and be HAPPY for them when they get a better part than him (after the initial cry looking at the cast list lmao)

The TLDR is: Maybe. He has to become more secure in himself first and he needs to reach a point where he can view skating as an art that he loves and take criticism as a commentary on his ART and not his PERSON. He’ll most likely get his bachelors degree first and THEN start thinking about where he wants to go from there. He’ll never be able to step away from skating entirely, but he may find himself at peace being a coach and helping others grow and improve as opposed to again competing himself

[bbyshawarma]

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