#headers lyrics like i would

[whimseee]

dudeeeee (first of all, your pfp is so cute???? ur whole theme is immaculate) i wanted to ask about your spotify wrapped!! what are your top artists and songs? i need to expand my knowledge and music taste.. <3

🫥 my wrapped is less aesthetic-intellectual and more hehe-music-is-fun, which honestly isn’t that bad lol :)

I’d love to see your wrapped too!!! you may have already posted it but I can’t find it in your blog :’) I literally LOVE your music taste so much

[caruliaa]

new theme time <3

[vivitalks]

x

[kanmom51]

You are me I am you

You know how sometimes when you are lying in bed just about to fall asleep and you have an idea or train of thoughts that leads to clarity of mind?

Well, a couple of nights back I had one of those epiphanies. I hurried to jot it down so I can come back here and put them to paper, so to speak (before forgetting them the next morning, which I surely would have).

So what's it all about, you may ask.

Well, I guess the header is a pretty good tell.

You are me I am you.

Or more so, how, for some reason, we seem to forget just how amazingly romantic that notion is, and what it truly means to JM and JK.

I will tell you where this train of thoughts started.

It started here:

I was thinking about Jikook in Sapporo, and this conversation came to mind.

Talking about how alike they are (following them doing the robot man simultaneously and telling us they watch the same content).

Yes, they don't do the You are me I am you in this instance, but I couldn't help think about it. This would be their You are me I am you on a more "we're one and the same" on a day to day basis kind of way.

And they are pretty much one and the same. So many similarities.

Is there any surprise they just FIT one another? One might think they were actually made for each other.

Their moles:

Their IQs

Thoughts, likes, habbits:

I don't even know how to describe this one:

Knowing each other through and through.

Knowing what the other thinks without words - a type of telepathy.

And:

When it comes to You are me I am you, they made it their own. Something that symbolizes them and their relationship.

Used it to express their feelings for one another publicly!!

Came by @haedalkoo 's post just today, kismet I guess, explaining the translation of JK's Tweet:

They have used it so much since JM's Serendipity. Many times doing so playfully.

All while claiming it as their own.

And perhaps because of that, I feel so many are either unaware or perhaps have forgotten over time the true meaning of You are me I am you, the deep romantic sentiment attached to it, and just how amazingly romantic those two are by claiming it as their own.

So, where does "You are me I am you" even come from?

Seeing that there are quite a few new Army and Jikookers around, I guess another short history lesson is required here. The origin story so to speak.

The line/saying originates from a 2016 song "You are me I am you" by Zico.

You are me, I am you I am you, you are me If our hearts are the same Two will become each other You are me I am you We make a pretty picture Who came up with the word “cringe”

There was talk about JK & JM using a reference to the song's MV wearing matching plasters during a Puma fansign in April 2016.

*Do I remind that this is way before JM's Serendipity came to pass?

JM saying he was given the band aid from JK (again, a reference to the song's MV).

What a coincidence...

I dare say this was not a coincidence, quite like JM tells us in Serendipity.

You know, the song that same exact line found it's way into....

Yes JM did not write the lyrics to Serendipity, but we have seen their writing process, we've heard from them and seen that the members have input and are consulted at times, especially when it's their solo songs. Remember JK's Begin? Such a personal song. So JK, right? Well, JK didn't write Begin. RM is credited though, just like he is for Serendipity. Does anyone doubt that JK had a input into the lyrics of Begin. I don't think so!!!

All this is no coincidence Just, just, by my feeling The whole world is different from yesterday Just, just, with your joy When you called me I became your flower As if we were waiting We bloom until we ache Maybe it's the providence of the universe It just had to be that You know, I know You are me, I am you

Serendipity is a love song.

One would say the ultimate love song.

Me being one of those.

Me also being one of those who say that JM took ownership over Serendipity making this his love ode to JK (and then came Letter...).

This was theirs.

And You are me I am you is theirs.

They even claimed copyright over it.

They were kidding.

Or were they?

Those two have been so friggin loud over the years with this.

JM and JK are the embodiment of You are me I am you. They took ownership over it and wore it ever so loud and proud.

They obviously had so much fun with it over the years.

And because they have been so loud about it and mostly in a playful manor, at times we forget the deep romantic meaning of it all.

But then you have those moments when it's clearly just for them, more intimate. It's quieter or softer or without realizing it's caught on camera, or embedded in their own lyrics with so much meaning or just so loud and emotional that it just hits you right in the face.

Those times when it's less about playfulness (you know, at times it can be romantic and playful too) and more about THEM.

The romantic undertone is just so so obvious.

This was done for no one but themselves!! Definitley not for us!!

Those moments where they remember where it came from and what it means to them.

The way JK's hand goes for JM's waist and then he moves to hold on so softly to JM's jacket.😭😭

The way the rest of the members move away, leaving them to themselves (a couple of them clearly thinking to themselves "get a bedroom").

They were both really caught up in the moment. And their embarrassment after it's over is a clear testimony to that.

I'm struggling with putting this into words... just how fucking romantic this was. Smiles on faces, teasing, flirting, giggling, and so damn romantic. And when you remember this comes on the coattail of TTU and the staging and lyrics change up...

I'm sorry. I'm just lost for words, hoping that you guys just see it, feel it. How can you not?

I can't end this without mentioning Like crazy as well.

JM may not have written Serendipity (although, again, I do believe You are me I am you has ALWAYS been theirs), but he certainly did write Like crazy.

Thinking again of how JM was struggling and what he was going through is heartbreaking. And JK's place in this song written by JM is so very loud. JM referring to another person that is with him is very loud. JM using the line "You are me I am you" in the song is very loud.

As for JK and his feelings for Like crazy, well I do think he has mixed feelings about that song. He loves loves loves SMF pt. 2. It's JM's catharsis song, his healing song, and JK is mad about it (not to mention the MV and just how damn sexy JM is there). But Like crazy, that one hits home for him. It's a reminder of hard times, emotional times, times that perhaps, just like JM tells us in the song, JM was hurting and wasn't allowing that other person with him, "the moon with you in its arms...forever you and I..." to save him:

This will break me This is gonna break me (Break me) No, don’t you wake me (Wake me) I wanna stay in this dream, don't save me Don't you try to save me (Save me) I need a way we (Way we) I need a way we can dream on (On, on, on)

JK was that bystander. Can you imagine that feeling of helpless, unable to pull JM out of the darkness?

And being reminded of that every time you hear the song.

JK's reaction here to JM playing Like crazy.

It's not about not loving the song. It's not about not loving JM or supporting his art. It's about the emotional baggage that comes with the song.

Try and remember the times we got to hear JM's songs during JK's lives. The one song that JK put off (in a sense) listening to on camera was Like crazy. First time he played it in one of his lives was when JM was on the show JK was watching and JM sang it in English!! Next time he listened to it was months after the song was released and after AYS CT (what they call season 1, lol) was shot. And even then, when he played it he did the whole comical intro and dance.

How did I get here from You are me I am you?

Good question.

Oh yes! JM's Like crazy, using You are me I am you in the lyrics, it being such a personal song and one that hits hard for JK as well. The romantic undertone to You are me I am you. That one person that JM is with and doesn't want to wake from the dream he's in with that person by his side (awaken to the reality of the pandemic and his emotional struggles).

JM and JK have told us and shown us oh so many times they are "You are me I am you".

The personification of "You are me I am you"!!

How do people still not see this????

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (10/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 10: The Hills

The Colorado mountains loomed in the distance as Lewis's car wound its way up the private road to their secluded home. Exhaustion from the Las Vegas race and recent events weighed heavily on him, but the anticipation of seeing his family pushed it all to the back of his mind.

With only two and a half days at home before he had to leave for Abu Dhabi for the season's final race, the Hamilton family had decided to celebrate an early Thanksgiving. It was a chance to gather everyone together before the hectic end to the Formula 1 season and the upcoming holidays.

As Lewis pulled up to the house, he could already hear the muffled sounds of activity inside. A wreath hung on the front door, and the scent of pine and cinnamon greeted him as he stepped out of the car.

Before he could even reach for his bags, the front door burst open. Roscoe's excited barks filled the air as the bulldog bounded towards him, tail wagging furiously. Close behind, a blur of motion that could only be Lyric toddled out, arms outstretched.

"Dada! Dada!" Lyric called out, his face beaming with joy.

Lewis scooped up his son, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Hey, little man! I missed you so much."

As he carried Lyric inside, with Roscoe circling his legs, Lewis took in the scene before him. The house filled with people, everyone pitching in to prepare for the early celebration.

In the kitchen, he spotted Rorie and his mother, Carmen, working side by side at the counter, flour dusting their aprons as they prepared what looked like pie crusts. His father, Anthony, and stepmother, Linda, were in the living room with Rorie's parents, arranging decorations and setting up extra chairs.

"Look who's here!" Lewis called out, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Rorie looked up, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed over, enveloping both Lewis and Lyric in a tight hug.

"Welcome home," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

As the family gathered around, exchanging hugs and greetings, Lewis felt the tension of the past few days begin to melt away. Here, surrounded by the love of his family, he could almost forget the challenges that awaited them.

But as he caught Rorie's eye over the heads of their excited family members, he saw the shadow of worry there. They had much to discuss, decisions to make. But for now, for these precious two and a half days before he had to leave for the crucial race in Abu Dhabi, they would celebrate. They would be thankful for what they had – each other, their families, and the strength to face whatever came next.

"So," Lewis said, bouncing Lyric on his hip, "what can I do to help with this early Thanksgiving?"

The room erupted in laughter and a chorus of suggestions, and Lewis dove right in, grateful for this moment of normalcy amidst the chaos of their lives.

The family bustled around, preparing for the early Thanksgiving celebration, and Lewis found himself alone in the living room with his father, Anthony. The older man's face was etched with concern as he helped hang a string of lights.

"Son," Anthony began, his voice low, "we need to talk about what happened in Vegas."

Lewis tensed, knowing this conversation was coming. "Dad, I–"

"I saw the TMZ video," Anthony cut in, his tone stern. "That woman, Deja... she seemed pretty convinced about your history. What's that all about?"

Lewis sighed, running a hand over his face. "Honestly, Dad, I don't remember meeting her. It was All-Star weekend in 2017, I was partying a lot back then."

Anthony shook his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "Lewis, you know better than to let situations like this escalate in public. What were you thinking, engaging with her like that?"

"I wasn't thinking," Lewis admitted. "It caught me off guard. I never expected–"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Anthony interrupted. "You always need to expect the unexpected, especially with your profile. This could have serious consequences for you and Rorie."

Just then, Rorie entered the room. She sensed the tension immediately. "Everything okay in here?"

Lewis looked at her, guilt washing over him. "We were just discussing the Deja situation."

Rorie's face fell slightly, but she squared her shoulders. "We're in this together, Lewis. Whatever happened in the past, we'll face it as a team."

Anthony nodded approvingly at Rorie's words. "That's the right attitude. But Lewis, you need to be more careful. This woman's claims, whether true or not, could affect your reputation, your career."

"I know, Dad," Lewis said, feeling like a chastised teenager again. "We're working with our legal team to handle it."

Rorie moved to stand beside Lewis, taking his hand. "We also need to discuss the situation with Luisa," she said softly.

Anthony's eyebrows shot up. "Luisa? Your housekeeper? What's she got to do with this?"

Lewis and Rorie exchanged a look before Lewis spoke. "It turns out she's been the one leaking information to Deja and possibly the press."

"Good Lord," Anthony muttered. "It never rains but it pours, does it?"

Just then, Lyric ran into the room, breaking the tension. "Dada, play!" he demanded, tugging on Lewis's pant leg.

Lewis scooped him up, grateful for the interruption. "Sure thing, little man. Let's go see what trouble we can get into."

As Lewis left with Lyric, Rorie and Anthony shared a concerned look.

"We'll get through this," Rorie said, her voice firm. "We always do."

Anthony nodded, patting her shoulder. "That you do, my dear. That you do." He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at Rorie. "You know, you're the best thing that's ever happened to Lewis. He's grown so much since being with you."

Rorie smiled, touched by his words. "Thank you, Anthony. That means a lot."

"But," Anthony continued, his tone turning serious, "his past... it's not all pretty. Are you prepared for it all to come out? There might be things even you don't know about."

Rorie met his gaze steadily. "I know about what happened in his life before me, Anthony. We've been open with each other from the start."

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Even what happened with Nicole?"

Rorie nodded. "Even Nicole. And his mistakes in their relationship. We worked through it in counseling a long time ago, and he even apologized to Nicole for cheating." She took a deep breath. "I've got this, Anthony. Trust me. Nothing is coming between me and my husband. Whatever Deja is saying is nothing we can't handle."

Anthony studied her for a moment, then broke into a warm smile. "You're a strong woman, Rorie. Lewis is lucky to have you."

"We're lucky to have each other," Rorie corrected gently. "And we're lucky to have such a supportive family. Now, come on. Let's get back to these decorations before my mom comes looking for us."

_______________________________________________

As the afternoon wore on, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of more guests. Tia, Ayesha, and Britt bustled in, arms laden with bags of food and gifts, their laughter filling the entryway.

"We're here!" Tia called out, shaking snow from her boots. "And we brought reinforcements!"

Behind them, KiKi entered more hesitantly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. As Lewis came to greet them, there was a palpable tension between him and KiKi.

After a moment's hesitation, Lewis pulled KiKi into a hug. "We need to talk later," he whispered in her ear.

As they pulled apart, KiKi glanced at Rorie, who gave a subtle nod. "Sure," KiKi muttered, her voice unsteady.

The group dispersed, with the women heading to the kitchen to help with dinner preparations while the men, led by Lewis and Anthony, began setting up the expansive dining room table and arranging the bar area.

In the kitchen, Rorie was carefully preparing Lewis's vegan meal alongside the traditional Thanksgiving fare. The aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables mingled with the rich scent of turkey still cooking in the oven.

"So," Ayesha said, sidling up to KiKi as she chopped vegetables, "when were you going to tell us about Khalil?"

KiKi's knife paused mid-chop. "What are you talking about?"

Tia joined them, her voice gentle but firm. "We know you've been seeing him again, Ki."

Rorie turned from the stove, wiping her hands on her apron. "We're worried about you, that's all."

KiKi's shoulders slumped. "It's not what you think. He's changed, he–"

"Girl, please," Ayesha interrupted. "That man has more lines than a geometry textbook."

"What about Miles?" Britt asked softly. "He really cares about you, Ki."

KiKi's eyes darted between her friends. "Miles is... he's great, but–"

"But nothing," Rorie said, moving closer to the group. "Miles is a good man who treats you right. Khalil? He's shown you who he is time and time again."

"Miles is actually on his way here," Tia added. "He should be arriving soon."

KiKi's eyes widened. "What? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because we wanted to talk to you first," Rorie explained. "KiKi, you deserve someone who values you, who's ready for the same things you are. Give Miles a real chance."

KiKi was quiet for a moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm scared," she admitted finally. "What if I'm not good enough for him?"

The three friends enveloped KiKi in a group hug. "You are more than good enough," Rorie assured her. "Just be yourself. That's who Miles fell for in the first place."

As they broke apart, KiKi managed a small smile. "Okay, okay. I'll talk to him when he gets here."

"That's our girl," Tia grinned, playfully bumping KiKi's hip.

The kitchen buzzed with renewed energy as they continued their preparations, the air filled with the warmth of friendship and the promise of new beginnings. Outside, the sound of another car pulling up signaled Miles's arrival, and a fresh wave of anticipation swept through the house.

As Miles made his way inside, greeting everyone with warm hugs and handshakes, the women put the finishing touches on the meal. Rorie and Carmen carefully transferred the golden-brown turkey to a serving platter, while Tia and Britt arranged side dishes on the expansive dining table. KiKi, with a newfound determination in her eyes, volunteered to pour the wine, stealing glances at Miles as he chatted with Lewis and Anthony.

Soon, the dining room was filled with the enticing aromas of the feast and the soft glow of candles. As everyone settled into their seats, the room resonated with laughter and the clinking of cutlery. Miles had slid into the seat next to KiKi, offering her a warm smile that she tentatively returned.

Greg raised his glass, proposing a toast to family, friends, and new beginnings. As glasses clinked and the meal began in earnest, the room filled with animated conversation and the warmth of togetherness. Lewis eventually caught KiKi's eye and nodded towards the kitchen. Excusing themselves, they stepped away from the bustling dining room.

In the relative quiet of the kitchen, Lewis turned to KiKi, his expression serious. "KiKi, I owe you an apology. I was wrong to suspect you of talking to The Sun. I'm sorry for doubting you."

KiKi's shoulders relaxed slightly. "It's okay, Lewis. I understand why you might have thought that, given everything that's been going on."

Lewis nodded, relieved. "Still, I should have known better. You've always had our backs."

KiKi took a deep breath. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you. I was... kind of involved, but not in the way you think."

Lewis's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Deja invited me out to lunch one day," KiKi explained. "When I got there, she started talking shit about Rorie. I left immediately, but... well, let's just say I handled it."

Lewis's eyes widened. "KiKi, what did you do?"

KiKi took a sip of her wine, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let's just say the bitch knows better than to open her mouth again."

Lewis couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "You're wild, you know that? But seriously, what did you do?"

KiKi just shrugged, a haunting smile playing on her lips. "Some things are better left unsaid, Lewis. Just know that I've always got your back – you and Rorie both."

Lewis studied her for a moment, then broke into a grin. "You really are a ride-or-die friend, aren't you?"

"You know it," KiKi winked. "Now, can we get back to dinner? I've got a fine ass man waiting for me out there."

As they rejoined the dinner party, Lewis couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the fierce loyalty of their friends. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew they had a strong support system to lean on.

Back at the table, Rorie caught Lewis's eye, raising an eyebrow in silent question. He gave her a reassuring smile, mouthing "Later" before diving back into the lively conversation around him. For now, he was content to enjoy this moment of warmth and togetherness with their extended family, savoring every bite of the lovingly prepared meal and every moment of laughter.

On a sunny afternoon in California, Rorie stood outside Luisa's modest home in the Valley. The streets were lined with deciduous trees, their leaves a mix of golden yellows and deep reds, a reminder that even in sunny California, autumn had arrived. With Lewis still in Abu Dhabi preparing for his final race of the season, Rorie knew he and Julian would have a conniption if they knew she was there, but she needed answers.

Rorie adjusted the basket of toys and gifts in her arms, filled with items for Luisa's daughters - Isabella, now a vivacious 7-year-old, and Catalina, a precocious 9-year-old. She thought back to all the times she'd visited this house, the laughter and warmth that had always greeted her. Luisa had been more than just a housekeeper; she'd become family over the years.

Taking a deep breath, Rorie knocked. When Luisa opened the door, surprise and fear flashed across her face.

"Por favor, Luisa," Rorie pleaded, her Spanish much improved from their years together. "Necesitamos hablar."

A small smile cracked Luisa's stern expression. "Your Spanish gets better every time," she said softly.

"I had the best teacher," Rorie replied, her voice warm with affection.

After a moment's hesitation, Luisa stepped aside, allowing Rorie to enter. The familiar scent of coffee filled the air, mingling with the aroma of something savory simmering on the stove - perhaps Luisa's famous pozole, perfect for the cooler weather. It reminded Rorie of countless afternoons spent in this kitchen, chatting and laughing as Luisa taught her to make traditional Mexican dishes.

"Where are the girls?" Rorie asked, looking around the cozy living room, noticing the fall-themed decorations.

"With their abuelita at the park," Luisa replied, her voice softer now. "Mamá is visiting for the month."

Rorie's face lit up. "Oh, I've missed your mother! Her stories always make me laugh."

Luisa's tension eased slightly. "She misses you too. She asked about you just this morning."

They settled at the small kitchen table, soft autumn light filtering through the lace curtains Rorie had helped Luisa pick out last year.

"I'm so sorry, Rorie," she began, tears welling in her eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you or your family."

"Then why, Luisa? Why did you help Deja?"

Luisa took a shaky breath. "Alexander... he promised to help Miguel. He said he had connections at the embassy." She explained about Miguel being held up in Mexico after a short visit to see his parents and border patrol agents noting him missing certain documents claiming his resident status in the U.S. "But it's not true. They're just being difficult."

Rorie was stunned. "Luisa, why didn't you come to us? We could have helped Miguel!"

Luisa broke down, sobbing. "You've done so much for us already. I couldn't ask for more."

Rorie felt a mix of hurt and frustration. "Luisa, I love you like a sister. We would have helped in a heartbeat."

"I know that now," Luisa whispered. "I was scared and desperate."

Rorie reached across the table, taking Luisa's hand. "I understand. But we can fix this. I'll talk to Julian about not pressing charges and I’ll see what I can do about helping Miguel."

Luisa looked up, hope in her eyes. "Really?"

Rorie nodded. "But we need your help with our lawsuit against Deja. Maybe you could meet with her again?"

Luisa squeezed Rorie's hand. "Anything. I'll do anything to make this right."

After their emotional conversation, Rorie and Luisa spent some time catching up on lighter topics, the familiar rhythm of their friendship slowly returning. As they chatted, the front door burst open, and Isabella and Catalina rushed in, followed by their abuelita.

"Tía Rorie!" the girls squealed, throwing themselves into Rorie's arms.

Rorie hugged them tightly. She exchanged warm greetings with Luisa's mother, promising to visit again soon for a proper catch-up.

As Rorie prepared to leave, Luisa walked her to the door. "Thank you for coming, Rorie. For listening and understanding."

Rorie squeezed her hand. "We're family, Luisa. We'll get through this together."

On the drive back to Malibu, Rorie's mind wandered to her conversation with Lewis about KiKi. KiKi's ominous words about handling Deja worried her. While she appreciated KiKi's loyalty, they needed to ensure their case against The Sun and Deja was solid and above board. They couldn't afford any complications.

Arriving home, Rorie headed straight to the office area. As she settled in, Nina knocked softly on the door frame, Lyric balanced on her hip.

"Look who's up from his nap," Nina said with a smile.

Lyric's face lit up at the sight of Rorie. "Mama!" he squealed, reaching for her.

Rorie scooped him up, peppering his face with kisses. "Hello, my sweet boy. Did you have a good nap?"

Lyric nodded enthusiastically. "Play now?"

"In a little bit, baby," Rorie promised. "Mama has some important calls first. But after that, we'll have some playtime, okay?"

Lyric considered this for a moment before nodding. "Okay, Mama."

As Nina took Lyric back, Rorie called out, "Thanks, Nina. I should be done in about an hour."

"No problem," Nina replied. "We'll be in the playroom when you're ready."

Taking a deep breath, Rorie logged into Zoom for her interviews with potential personal assistants. Yael and Penni had screened several candidates, narrowing it down to two promising options.

The first candidate, Zoe, appeared on screen. She was a Black woman in her late twenties, with box braids pulled into a neat bun and warm, intelligent eyes. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Hamilton," she began confidently. "I'm excited to discuss how I can support you and your family."

Rorie was impressed by Zoe's organization and attention to detail as they discussed the role. "How would you handle a situation where the media is pressuring for a statement on a sensitive family matter?" Rorie asked.

Zoe's response was measured and thoughtful, demonstrating a good understanding of media management.

The second candidate, Olivia, was a white woman in her early thirties with auburn hair and an air of calm competence. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton," she said. "I understand the unique challenges of your position and I'm prepared to handle them discreetly and efficiently."

As they talked, Olivia demonstrated a solid understanding of crisis management. "In my previous role, I dealt with several high-profile situations," she explained. "Discretion and quick thinking are key."

By the end of the interviews, Rorie had a lot to consider. Both candidates had their strengths, but she knew she needed someone who could navigate the complexities of her life with grace and discretion.

As she ended the calls, Rorie made notes to discuss with Yael later. They had a tough decision ahead, but having a capable assistant would be crucial in managing her increasingly complicated life.

True to her word, an hour later, Rorie found herself in the playroom with Lyric, their laughter echoing through the house as they built towers with colorful blocks, the weight of the day's events temporarily forgotten in the joy of these precious moments with her son.

As the 2023 F1 season officially came to a close, Lewis felt the familiar mix of fatigue and relief. After wrapping up his final promotional duties with his sponsors, he was more than ready for some quality family time. And boy, was it needed. Between the bullshit with Deja and The Sun, Rorie's impromptu visit to Luisa's home, and the scrap metal of a car he drove this season, he wanted nothing more than to relax. He'd wish that his wife would've gone over her plan before visiting their housekeeper, but he was happy to know that Luisa wanted to make it up to them.

Thank God for small miracles.

Lewis, Rorie, and Lyric made their way inside SoFi Stadium for the Denver Broncos vs. Los Angeles Chargers game. As part of the Broncos ownership group, they bypassed the main crowds, a discreet security detail ushering them towards a private elevator. Rorie couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement - no matter how many games they attended, the experience never got old.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a corridor of luxury suites, but theirs was special. At the end of the hall, a door marked with the Broncos logo slid open, revealing a space that was more akin to a high-end apartment than a typical stadium box.

Floor-to-ceiling windows led out to a private balcony that hung over the field, offering an unobstructed view of the action below. The players looked like action figures from this height, but the roar of the crowd was crystal clear.

"Wow," Rorie breathed, stepping out onto the balcony. The rush of being so close yet so far above the field still amazed her.

Lewis set Lyric down, the toddler immediately racing to the balcony railing, securely designed with little ones in mind.

"Mama, up!" Lyric demanded, his eyes wide with excitement at the bustling stadium below.

She chuckled, scooping up her son. "What do you think, sweetie? Pretty cool, huh?"

As they settled in, a staff member approached. "Mr. Hamilton, Mrs. Hamilton, is there anything special you'd like prepared for today's game?"

This was just one of the many perks they enjoyed - personalized service that catered to their every whim. As Lewis discussed some vegan options with the attendant, Rorie sank into one of the plush outdoor seats, Lyric clambering onto her lap.

She couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come. From watching games on TV in Lewis's bachelor pad to owning a piece of an NFL team and enjoying this incredible view - life had certainly taken some unexpected turns. They were soon joined by other members of the ownership group, including Melody Hobson, a successful businesswoman and friend.

"Lewis, Rorie! So good to see you," Melody greeted them warmly. "And look how big Lyric's getting!"

As kickoff approached, Lewis found himself explaining the basics of American football to Lyric, who was more interested in the colorful uniforms and the massive screens around the stadium.

"See that, Lyric? Those are our guys in the orange," Lewis pointed out.

The game was a nail-biter, with both teams trading leads throughout. In between plays, Lewis chatted with fellow owners about potential team strategies and upcoming decisions. Rorie, meanwhile, was deep in conversation with Melody about balancing career and family life.

As the fourth quarter wound down, the Broncos managed to pull ahead with a last-minute touchdown. The box erupted in cheers, with Lyric joining in, more excited by the adults' reactions than the game itself.

"We won, little man!" Lewis exclaimed. "Can you say 'Go Broncos'?"

"Go Boncos!" Lyric attempted, causing Rorie to laugh.

"Close enough, baby," she said, ruffling his braids.

As the excitement settled, Melody approached them. "Great game, wasn't it? Lewis, have you given any thought to that youth program we discussed?"

Lewis nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I think it's a fantastic idea. Maybe we can set up a meeting in the new year to flesh out the details?"

"Sounds perfect," Melody agreed. "Enjoy your family time. You've earned it after this season."

As they prepared to leave, Rorie spotted Ciara and Russell Wilson making their way over.

"Rorie! Lewis!" Ciara called out, embracing them both. "It's been too long."

Russell shook Lewis's hand warmly. "Congrats on a good season, man. And thanks for bringing that energy over to us."

They chatted for a few minutes, catching up on family life and recent events.

"We're heading out for pizza," Lewis mentioned. "Care to join us?"

Russell glanced at Ciara, who nodded. "We'd love to, but we've got an early flight tomorrow. Rain check?"

"Absolutely," Rorie agreed. "We'll set something up when we're back from Brazil."

After saying their goodbyes, Lewis, Rorie, and Lyric made their way to their favorite vegan pizza place in L.A. As they settled into a cozy booth, Lyric coloring contentedly, Lewis and Rorie finally had a moment to discuss their upcoming trip.

"So, Brazil," Lewis began, a smile playing on his lips. "I was thinking we could start in Rio, spend a few days there before heading to that secluded beach house in Bahia."

Rorie's eyes lit up. "That sounds perfect. Lyric will love the beach."

"Beach!" Lyric chimed in, clearly recognizing the word.

Lewis chuckled. "That's right, buddy. Lots of sand and waves for you to play in."

As their pizza arrived, they continued to plan their trip, discussing potential activities and places to visit.

"Oh, and I was thinking," Lewis added, lowering his voice slightly, "maybe we could have a few days just to ourselves? I'm sure your parents wouldn't mind watching Lyric for a bit."

Rorie raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sir Hamilton, are you suggesting we sneak away for a romantic getaway?"

"Maybe," Lewis grinned. "After the year we've had, I think we deserve it, don't you?"

Rorie leaned in, kissing him softly. "I couldn't agree more."

"Is that right?" he whispered against her lips, being mindful of their impressionable toddler just a few feet away. "Are you going to f-u-c-k me like that one time during our honeymoon?"

Rorie’s eyes widened in recollection as they parted. "Oh, you mean with the ‘cuffs?" Her husband bit his bottom lip, nodding vigorously. "Maybe…as long as I can bring the new toy we’ve yet to use."

"You mean the–"

"Yes, exactly that and something else I bought just for you. Something with leather…"

Lewis’ mouth tilted into a mischievous grin. "I love winter break so much."

As they continued to enjoy their meal, the conversation flowed easily from travel plans to reflections on the past year and hopes for the future. The stress of the F1 season, the drama with Deja, and the challenges they'd faced seemed to melt away in the warmth of family time.

Later, as they drove home with a sleepy Lyric in the back seat, Lewis reached over and took Rorie's hand.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?" Rorie asked, squeezing his hand.

"For everything. For being my rock, for giving me this beautiful family, for just... being you."

Rorie smiled, her eyes glistening slightly in the dim light. "Always, babe. We're in this together, remember?" Her eyes softened as she looked at her husband. "And speaking of being in this together... I've been thinking about what Dr. Chen said. About trying for another baby through IVF."

Lewis's breath caught slightly. "You have?"

"Yeah," Rorie said, her voice gentle. "I know it's been tough, but I think we're ready. If you are, that is."

Lewis was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on Rorie's hand. "I think I am," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... maybe we could start the process after we get back from Brazil?"

Rorie smiled, bringing his hand to her lips for a soft kiss. "I think that sounds perfect."

Lewis nodded, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "It won't be easy, but we've faced tougher challenges together."

"We have," Rorie agreed. "And just think, this time next year, we could be celebrating the holidays with a new addition to our family."

They got out of the car, carefully lifting a sleeping Lyric from his car seat. Lewis cradled Lyric close to his chest, feeling the weight of their decision.

"You know," he said softly, "no matter what happens, you and Lyric are more than enough. You're everything to me."

"And you're everything to us," she whispered back.

A few days later, Rorie found herself in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, stepping out of a sleek black car onto the red carpet of a FWRD event. The evening air was crisp, and the city lights twinkled against the darkening sky.

Rorie smoothed down her outfit - a stunning, form-fitting black dress from the latest FWRD collection, paired with strappy heels and minimalist jewelry. Her hair was swept into an elegant bun, and her makeup was flawless, emphasizing her natural beauty.

As she made her way down the carpet, camera flashes erupted around her. Rorie smiled and posed, years of experience allowing her to navigate the media gauntlet with grace.

"Rorie! Over here!"

"Mrs. Hamilton, a moment please!"

"Rorie, who are you wearing tonight?"

She answered a few quick questions, her responses polished and warm. "I'm excited to be here supporting FWRD and their incredible new collection," she said to one reporter. "Fashion has always been a passion of mine, and FWRD continues to push boundaries in the industry."

Inside the venue, the atmosphere was electric. The space had been transformed into a chic, modern wonderland, with avant-garde installations showcasing the latest FWRD pieces. Rorie mingled with other celebrities, fashion insiders, and influencers, her natural charisma shining through in every interaction.

As she sipped on a glass of champagne, Rorie caught sight of her reflection in a nearby mirror. She looked every inch the successful, confident woman she was, but her mind couldn't help but wander to Lewis and Lyric at home, and the possibility of expanding their family. It was a balancing act, this life of glamour and domesticity, but one she navigated with increasing skill and appreciation.

The event began to wind down, and Rorie found herself reflecting on the night's significance. This was their last big event before heading off to Brazil for their family vacation. The excitement of their upcoming trip mingled with the lingering buzz of the fashion world.

Saying her goodbyes, Rorie stepped out into the cool night air. In the back of her town car, she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. She pulled out her phone, smiling at a text from Lewis:

Hope you had a great night. Can't wait to see you.

As the car wound its way through the LA streets, Rorie's mind drifted to their impending lawsuit, set for April of next year. It felt far away, yet ever-present in her thoughts. She made a mental note to touch base with Julian before they left for Brazil.

Arriving home, Rorie quietly made her way upstairs. She peeked into Lyric's room, her heart swelling at the sight of her peacefully sleeping son. Then, she slipped into her own bedroom, where Lewis was still awake, scrolling through his phone.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, looking up with a smile. "How was the event?"

Rorie sat on the edge of the bed, starting to remove her jewelry. "It was great. Lots of networking, and Kendall even mentioned a potential capsule collection with FWRD."

Lewis's eyes lit up. "That's fantastic, babe. You deserve it."

As Rorie unzipped her dress, she added, "I was thinking about the lawsuit on the way home. Should we check in with Julian before we leave?"

Lewis nodded, his expression turning serious. "Good idea. We can give him a call tomorrow. But for now," he patted the bed beside him, "let's focus on us. I miss you."

Rorie tossed her dress onto the chair, a playful glint in her eye as she caught Lewis's gaze. "Oh, you miss me, huh?" she teased, stepping closer to the bed in nothing but her lingerie. The way Lewis’s eyes darkened with desire made her feel powerful, and she decided to make the most of it.

Lewis leaned back against the pillows, his grin widening as he watched her. "You know I do," he replied, his voice low and smooth, filled with anticipation.

Rorie moved slowly, deliberately, letting the moment build. She unclasped her bra and let it slip from her shoulders, tossing it aside with a mischievous smile. "Maybe I miss you too," she said, her voice soft and teasing, as she slid under the covers next to him.

Lewis's hands were on her the moment she was within reach, his touch firm yet gentle as he pulled her closer. "Is that so?" he murmured against her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

Rorie giggled softly, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as she straddled him. "Mmhmm," she hummed, leaning down to brush her lips against his in a feather-light kiss. She loved the way he looked at her, as if she were the only person in the world, and she intended to make him feel the same way tonight.

Their kisses deepened, growing more intense as Lewis's hands roamed over her body, tracing the lines of her curves with fervent desire. Rorie felt a familiar heat building between them, her skin tingling at every touch and caress.

Lewis flipped them over effortlessly, his strong arms easily pinning her beneath him as he continued to kiss her deeply. "I've been going crazy thinking about you all night," he whispered against her lips, his voice rough and eager.

A smile tugged at the corners of Rorie's mouth as she ran her hands down his back, feeling the muscles tense under her touch. "Then why are we still wasting time talking?"

Without hesitation, Lewis shed his own clothing before returning to hover over her, their bodies pressed together in perfect synchronization. Agonizingly slow, Lewis positioned himself between her legs and gradually entered her, eliciting a low moan from Rorie's throat. Every inch of their bodies melded together now, their movements becoming more frantic and frenzied with each passing moment.

Her nails dug into Lewis's back, leaving faint red marks as she urged him on. She couldn't get enough of him, her body craving his touch again and again. Lewis's movements became more urgent, his hips thrusting harder and faster as he neared his release. Rorie's moans grew louder, her body arching up to meet his every move. She was close too, her skin flushed and her eyes half-lidded with desire.

"Just like that, don't stop, baby," she gasped, her voice filled with need and desire. "I'm so close."

"Fuck, baby," Lewis groaned, his fingers digging into Rorie's hips as he increased his pace. He was so close now, and he could feel Rorie trembling beneath him.

With one final thrust, they both reached their climax together, their bodies shuddering and crashing against each other in waves of ecstasy. Lewis collapsed onto the bed next to Rorie, both of them panting and trying to catch their breath.

"That was..." Rorie trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how amazing it felt.

"Unbelievable," Lewis finished for her with a satisfied grin. He rolled onto his side, pulling Rorie closer to him as they lay there in a blissful haze.

Rorie nuzzled her face into Lewis's chest, feeling content and happy in this moment with him. She loved these quiet moments after they made love, when they were just together without any distractions or obligations.

Lewis kissed the top of Rorie's head before pulling away slightly to look at her. "I love you so much," he said softly.

"I love you too," Rorie replied with a smile before leaning up to kiss him again.

They touched down in Rio de Janeiro, where the city’s vibrant energy welcomed them like an old friend. Over the next few days, they immersed themselves in the rhythm of the city, exploring iconic sights and soaking up the atmosphere. They visited the breathtaking Corcovado Mountain, where the towering Christ the Redeemer statue watched over them, and spent time wandering through the colorful steps of Escadaria Selarón. Everywhere they went, the city buzzed with life, providing the perfect backdrop for their family adventures.

Lyric was utterly fascinated by the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema. His little legs carried him excitedly across the warm sand, chasing after seagulls and marveling at the endless expanse of ocean. Lewis and Rorie took turns running after him, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the surf and the chatter of beachgoers. It was a carefree time, a brief escape from the pressures of the lawsuit and their next phase in expanding their family.

After their time in Rio, they traveled to a secluded beach house in Bahia. Here, the true relaxation began. The private stretch of coastline became their sanctuary, a place where they could unwind and reconnect as a family. Mornings were spent building sandcastles with Lyric, who giggled as the waves knocked them down, and afternoons were for lounging under the sun, the gentle breeze carrying away their worries.

That night, after putting Lyric to bed, Rorie and Lewis found themselves alone in the serene quiet of their beach house. The soft sound of waves crashing outside mixed with the gentle rustle of the warm night breeze filtering through the open windows. Moonlight poured into the room, casting a silvery glow that bathed everything in a soft, intimate light.

Rorie stood before Lewis, her naked body still glistening from the water droplets that clung to her skin after their shared bath. The steam from the bathroom still lingered in the air, carrying with it the faint scent of lavender. Her braids, damp and curly, cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that made Lewis's breath catch in his throat. She was breathtaking, and in that moment, she was all his.

Without a word, Rorie moved closer to him, her hips swaying slightly with each step. Lewis was already seated at the edge of the bed, his eyes dark with desire, following her every movement. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers twitching with anticipation. As she straddled him, her legs on either side of his, he reached out, his hands finding their place on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together.

Rorie leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, teasing kiss. Lewis groaned softly, his hands gliding up her back, feeling the smoothness of her skin under his fingertips. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed as he held himself back, savoring the moment.

She kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue slipping past his lips in a slow, sensual dance. Lewis responded eagerly, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her that he could touch. His lips trailed down her neck, pressing kisses along her collarbone, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin.

Rorie moaned softly, her body arching into his touch, the heat between them building with each passing second. She could feel him hard beneath her, the evidence of his desire pressing against her thigh. She moved her hips slightly, teasing him, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest.

"You're going to be the death of me," Lewis murmured against her skin, his voice thick with need.

Rorie smiled, her hands cupping his face, bringing his lips back to hers. "Then let me bring you to life," she whispered, her words a promise.

With a gentle push, she guided him to lie back on the bed, her body following his down until she was atop him, their bodies perfectly aligned. She could feel the heat of him between her legs, the ache of desire that pulsed through her, begging for release. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he filled her completely.

"Jesus Christ, baby." Lewis's hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that drove them both wild. "Yes, ride this dick, baby. Fuck…"

Rorie's head fell back, her long bohemian knotless braids spilling down her back as she rode him, the pleasure building with each thrust. The feel of him inside her, the way his hands caressed her body, sent shivers down her spine. "Shit, Lewis....mmhmmm..."

Their movements became more urgent, the rhythm faster, more desperate. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with their heavy breathing, the soft moans and gasps that escaped them both. Rorie leaned forward, her hands braced against his chest, her lips finding his once more as they moved together, their bodies in perfect sync.

But just as their passion reached its peak, they heard a tiny voice at the door. "Mama? Dada?"

They froze, their eyes widening in surprise. Lyric stood in the doorway, clutching his stuffed bunny, looking at them with innocent curiosity.

Rorie quickly covered herself, biting back a laugh. "Oh, sweetie, what are you doing up?"

Lyric toddled over to the bed, his eyes wide as he tried to climb up. "Bunny fell," he said simply, holding up the toy.

Lewis couldn’t help but chuckle as he rolled off the bed to put on a pair of boxers. He then scooped up their son, settling him on his hip. "Well, looks like we’ll have to continue this later," he said, giving Rorie a knowing look.

Rorie sighed, glancing at Lyric with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "My parents cannot come fast enough," she muttered, though she couldn’t help but smile at the way Lyric snuggled beside Lewis, oblivious to what he had interrupted.

Lewis grinned, pulling Lyric closer. "We’ll have our time. I’m going to put him back to bed."

As Lewis carried Lyric back to his room, Rorie slipped on a silk robe and followed them. She leaned against the doorframe, watching as Lewis gently tucked their son back into bed.

"There you go, little man," Lewis said softly, placing the bunny next to Lyric. "Bunny's all safe now. Time for sleep, okay?"

Lyric nodded sleepily, his eyes already drooping. "Night, Dada. Night, Mama," he mumbled.

Rorie stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to Lyric's forehead. "Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams."

They quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. In the hallway, Lewis pulled Rorie close, his arms wrapping around her waist.

"Now, where were we?" he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Rorie chuckled softly, placing a hand on his chest. "Hold that thought. We should probably make sure he's actually asleep this time."

Lewis groaned playfully but nodded in agreement. They retreated to their bedroom, leaving their door open to listen for any more midnight wanderings from their son.

As they settled back onto the bed, Rorie curled up next to Lewis, her head resting on his chest. "You know," she said, tracing patterns on his skin, "as much as I'm looking forward to some alone time with you, I'm going to miss him when my parents take him for those few days."

Lewis nodded, running his fingers through her hair. "I know what you mean. But it'll be good for us to have that time together, especially before we start the IVF process."

Rorie looked up at him, her eyes soft in the dim light. "Are you nervous about it? The IVF, I mean."

Lewis was quiet for a moment, considering. "A little," he admitted. "But mostly, I'm excited. The thought of giving Lyric a sibling, of expanding our family… it feels right."

Rorie smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. "It does, doesn't it?"

As they lay there, talking softly about their hopes and plans, the interruption from earlier faded into just another cherished moment of parenthood. The night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter and tender touches, a perfect prelude to the adventures that awaited them in the days to come.

_______________________________________________

A few days later, Rorie's parents, Marian and Greg, arrived at the beach house. The Hamiltons welcomed them warmly, grateful for the extra hands with Lyric and the chance to catch up.

One afternoon, as they lounged on the patio enjoying the ocean breeze and some fresh fruit, Marian decided to broach the subject of recent events back home.

"So," Marian began, running a hand through Lyric’s braids, "any news about Martin? Has he tried to contact you guys again?"

Rorie nodded, her expression concerned. "He called a few times last week. Keeps saying he wants to talk to me, to explain himself. What’s happening back at home?"

Greg added, "The paparazzi situation hasn't improved much. They're still camped out near the house most days."

Rorie sighed. "I'm so sorry you're dealing with all this because of me."

"Don't you dare apologize," Marian said firmly. "We're family. We handle these things together."

Lewis reached over and squeezed Rorie's hand. "Your mom's right. And we'll figure out how to deal with Martin and the media. We're not letting them ruin our time here."

As they continued to discuss the challenges ahead, Lyric, perched on Marian's lap, happily munched on a piece of mango, oblivious to the adult concerns.

"So, sweetie," Marian cooed at her grandson, changing the subject, "what have you been up to with Mama and Dada?"

Lyric's face lit up. "Mama Dada hug!" he exclaimed, his limited vocabulary conveying the essence of what he'd seen a few nights ago. "A lot!"

Rorie and Lewis exchanged a quick, embarrassed glance. Greg raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Is that so?" Greg chuckled. "Lots of hugging going on, eh?"

Rorie felt her cheeks flush. "Dad, please," she mumbled, while Lewis suddenly became very interested in his drink.

Marian laughed softly, bouncing Lyric on her knee. "Oh, leave them be, Greg. They're young and in love."

Eager to change the subject again, Lewis cleared his throat. "Actually, I've got some news. My 2025 contract with Ferrari is through. I just need to sign to make it official."

The family erupted in excited congratulations, the mood lifting instantly.

"That's fantastic news, Lewis!" Greg exclaimed, clapping him on the back. "Ferrari, huh? That's quite a change."

Marian beamed, "We're so proud of you, dear. Both of you," she added, smiling at Rorie.

"Thanks," Lewis grinned, visibly relaxed now that the news was out. "It's a big move, but I'm ready for the challenge."

Rorie squeezed his hand, her eyes shining with pride. "He's been working so hard for this. I can't wait to see him in that red suit."

"Red! Like Elmo!" Lyric chimed in, making everyone laugh.

"That's right, buddy," Lewis chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. "Daddy's going to be like Elmo."

Greg stood up, stretching. "Well, I think this calls for a celebration. How about we fire up the grill? We've got that fresh fish in the fridge, and I picked up some plantains earlier."

"Ooh, yes!" Rorie agreed enthusiastically. "And I can make that mango salsa you love, Mom."

"Perfect," Marian nodded. "Lewis, why don't you and Greg handle the grill? I know you're vegan, sweetie, but could you grill some vegetables for yourself?"

"Of course," Lewis smiled. "I saw some great-looking bell peppers and zucchini in the kitchen."

As they all moved to start preparing the impromptu celebratory dinner, Lewis scooped up Lyric. "Come on, little man. Want to help Daddy and Grandpa with the grill?"

"Yes! Help!" Lyric clapped his hands excitedly.

The patio soon buzzed with activity. Greg and Lewis stood by the grill, with Greg seasoning the fish and Lewis preparing his vegetables. Lyric "helped" by handing them utensils and watching in fascination as Greg sliced the plantains. In the kitchen, Rorie and Marian chopped fruits and vegetables for the salsa and side dishes, the rhythmic sound of their knives punctuated by laughter as they shared stories.

The afternoon stretched into evening, filled with delicious food, flowing conversation, and the warmth of family. As they sat around the table, enjoying their meal under the starry sky, the worries of paparazzi and complicated family dynamics seemed far away. For now, they were simply a family, celebrating good news and cherishing their time together.

______________________________________

As New Year's Eve approached, Rorie and Lewis prepared for their night out in Salvador. They said goodbye to Lyric, leaving him in the capable hands of his grandparents.

"You two have fun," Marian said, shooing them out the door. "We've got everything under control here."

"Thanks, Mom," Rorie said, giving her a quick hug. "We'll see you next year," she added with a wink.

Rorie and Lewis headed towards the city, and the excitement of the coming celebrations and the promise of new beginnings filled the air. They found themselves in the heart of the historic Pelourinho district, surrounded by music, laughter, and the infectious spirit of Bahia.

Rorie, dressed in a flowing green lace dress that caught the warm breeze, swayed to the rhythm of the samba playing in the square. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, enhanced by the few caipirinhas she'd enjoyed throughout the evening.

"Come on, babe!" she called to Lewis, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. "Dance with me!"

Lewis, sober but caught up in the festive atmosphere, laughed as he allowed Rorie to guide him in the dance. Though he wasn't as fluid as the locals, he moved with the natural grace of an athlete.

"You're getting better at this," Rorie teased, her arms draped around his neck.

Lewis grinned, his hands on her waist. "I've got a good teacher."

As midnight approached, they made their way to the beach where thousands had gathered to watch the fireworks. The crowd was a sea of white, following the Brazilian tradition for good luck in the new year.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" The countdown began, and Lewis pulled Rorie close.

"Seven! Six! Five!" Rorie's eyes met Lewis's, full of love and anticipation.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Feliz Ano Novo!"

The sky erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks, but Lewis and Rorie were lost in their own world as they shared a deep, passionate kiss.

"Happy New Year, love," Lewis murmured against her lips.

Rorie smiled, her forehead resting against his. "Happy New Year. Here's to new beginnings."

As the celebration continued around them, they stood there on the beach, arms wrapped around each other, watching the fireworks paint the sky. The promise of the year ahead - with all its potential joys and challenges - stretched out before them, but in that moment, they were content to simply be together, savoring the magic of a new year's beginning in this beautiful corner of the world.

"You know," Rorie said, her voice slightly slurred from the drinks, "I think this might be my favorite New Year's Eve ever."

Lewis chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Even better than the one in Aspen?"

Rorie pretended to think for a moment. "Okay, maybe it's a tie. But this one definitely has better weather."

The fireworks faded and the crowd began to disperse, and Lewis and Rorie decided to take a moonlit walk along the beach before heading back to their hotel. The warm sand beneath their feet and the sound of the waves created a perfect end to their night of celebration.

"We should properly celebrate," Rorie murmured, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Especially since we don't have to worry about being interrupted."

Lewis grinned, understanding her meaning immediately, and his hands found their way to her ass. "I like the way you think, Mrs. Hamilton."

Rorie laughed and playfully swatted at his hand. "Not here," she whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby. "You gotta wait until we’re back at the hotel."

When they finally reached the privacy of their hotel room, the door had barely clicked shut behind them before Lewis had Rorie pressed against it, his lips crashing down onto hers in a searing kiss. She responded eagerly, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer as their bodies pressed together.

Lewis's hands roamed over her curves, squeezing her ass as he deepened the kiss. His tongue teased hers, exploring the warmth of her mouth with a skillful rhythm that left her breathless. Rorie moaned softly against his lips, her body tingling with anticipation as her hands worked to unbutton his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest.

Breaking the kiss, she pushed him back just enough to give herself some space, her hands trailing down his torso, appreciating the firm muscles beneath her fingertips. "Get on the bed," she commanded softly, her voice laced with desire.

Lewis grinned, his eyes dark with lust as he obeyed, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes before lying back on the bed. Rorie followed, slowly stripping out of her own clothes, letting each piece drop to the floor in a deliberate, tantalizing manner. She could feel his eyes on her, drinking in every inch of her as she revealed herself to him.

Once she was completely naked, Rorie reached for the small duffle bag they’d packed for the trip, her fingers brushing against the new toy she’d brought along for their special night. She pulled it out—a sleek, remote-controlled clitoral vibrator. The look on Lewis’s face when he saw it made her smile with satisfaction.

Rorie crawled onto the bed, straddling Lewis's thighs as she held up the toy, her eyes locking onto his. "I thought we could finally try this new toy," she said, her voice sultry as she flicked the vibrator on, the soft hum filling the room.

Lewis’s breath hitched, his eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and arousal. "You’re full of surprises tonight," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs, gripping her hips as he watched her intently.

Rorie leaned down, kissing him deeply as she guided the toy between her legs, pressing it against her clit. She gasped at the sensation, the gentle vibrations sending pleasure coursing through her body. Lewis groaned against her mouth, clearly enjoying the way she was responding.

She pulled back slightly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she began to ride him, the vibrator nestled between them, heightening the sensation with each movement. Lewis’s hands moved to her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her taut nipples as he thrust up to meet her movements, each motion sending waves of pleasure through her.

The combination of the toy and the feel of Lewis inside her was intoxicating. Rorie’s head fell back, her moans growing louder as she moved faster, her body trembling with the intensity of her arousal. She could feel herself getting closer, the pleasure building to a point where it was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, you’re amazing," Lewis groaned, his grip on her tightening as he thrust up harder, his dick hitting that perfect spot inside her over and over again. "Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over this dick."

"Lewis!" she gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders as the pleasure wracked her body. "Oh, God, I’m coming so hard!"

Rorie finally shattered, her body convulsing as she came, the pleasure washing over her in waves. The vibrator fell to the side as she clung to Lewis, riding out her orgasm until she was spent.

But Lewis wasn’t done. He flipped them over, pinning her beneath him as he thrust into her, his pace relentless as he chased his own release. Rorie could feel him, still rock hard inside her, and the aftershocks of her orgasm made her even more sensitive, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure through her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her nails digging into his back as he drove them both toward the edge once more. His name was a mantra on her lips, each moan urging him on.

"Fuck, yes," Lewis groaned, thrusting into her one last time before his own release took over, spilling himself deep inside her with a guttural moan. "Rorie, oh fuck…"

They stayed tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and the remnants of their passion. Lewis pulled Rorie into his arms and held her close as they both caught their breath.

"Holy shit, woman," he murmured against her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Rorie smiled, still feeling the afterglow of their lovemaking. "Worth the wait?" she teased, snuggling closer to him.

"Absolutely," Lewis replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "But next time, I’m not waiting until we get back to the hotel. I’m just gonna fuck you on the beach."

Rorie laughed softly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "You’re insatiable."

"For you, always," he said, his hand gently caressing her back as they drifted off to sleep, their hearts full and their bond stronger than ever.

As the first day of January dawned, Deja stood before her bathroom mirror, examining the fading bruises on her body. The assault in late November had left its mark, both physically and emotionally. While the acute pain had subsided, a dull ache remained, a constant reminder of the attack.

Her fingers traced a yellowing bruise on her ribcage as her mind drifted back to that fateful night in New Orleans during the 2017 All-Star weekend. The memories were vivid, almost taunting in their clarity.

The pulsing beat of the club, the electric atmosphere of celebrity and excitement. She remembered the way Lewis had looked at her, or at least how she thought he had looked at her. His smile, the warmth of his hand on her lower back as they danced, the intoxicating mix of his cologne and the whiskey on his breath.

"You're special," she thought she heard him say, the words barely audible over the music. But had he really said it? Or was it just what she wanted to hear?

Deja shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. The attack had thrown a wrench in her plans, forcing her to cancel appearances and partnership deals to focus on healing. It had also planted a seed of paranoia. Who was responsible? The attacker had robbed her, yes, but the beating felt personal. A nagging suspicion that Rorie might be involved refused to leave her mind, though she had no proof. She picked up her phone, scrolling through recent photos of Lewis and Rorie at public events. Their happiness felt like a personal affront, fueling the bitterness that had driven her actions.

The alliance with The Sun and Alexander had seemed like the perfect revenge, a way to shatter the perfect image of the Hamilton family. But now, as she sat alone in her apartment, nursing her injuries and haunted by memories, Deja couldn't help but question her choices.

Her phone buzzed - another message from Alexander, demanding more information. She ignored it at first, the weight of her decisions pressing down on her. The revenge she had sought was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, and the collateral damage to people like Luisa was weighing heavily on her conscience.

But pride and stubbornness kept her from backing down. She had come too far to turn back now. Steeling herself to respond to Alexander, Deja couldn't shake the feeling that she was on a path that would only lead to more pain - for everyone involved.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

[chrissfavmilf]

PARIS TEARS

- now playing “her” by Tyler, the creator

𐙚 summary: cute moments with shy!gf!reader and Matt

𐙚 pairing: bf!matt X shy!gf!reader

𐙚 a/n: I feel like the lyrics in the header fit this idea so perfectly

—

1. NOVEMBER 1ST 2020 |

you had been walking around recording a YouTube video with Matt, Nick, Chris, and their mom the whole day

Nick had just showed the camera Matt’s Halloween costume which was a cowboy

“Show them y/ns” “bro no!” you and Matt were matching ofc “you look good!” “No!” “Oh my god.” You watched as Matt took the camera from Nick and pointed it at you and announced “she’s a cowgirl!” In one of his weird voices “you’re so odd!”

2. FEBRUARY 26TH 2021 |

you knew Matt and his brothers would be filming a video soon but you didn’t know it was today so of course you accidentally came downstairs as they were filming

“What the fuck?” “Why are you wearing that?” And of course you had to be wearing the most ridiculous shirt ever “ “I Heart Matt” on your shirt is crazy” “where’d you even buy that?” “Amazon” “I’m sueing that app” “yknow we’re recording right?” You let out a few giggles as you hurried upstairs “fucking ridiculous.”

you still haven’t got rid of that shirt

3. MARCH 15TH 2023 |

You were in the background of the triplets video of them trying out weird food combos

“That shit looks so disgusting.” “You think EVERYTHING looks disgusting” you let out a few giggles before looking at Matt “you wanna try?” “NO” “cmon?” “Try it! Cmere” “bro fine” you speed walked over to Matt and waited as he attempted to feed you whichever weird Combo they were trying “yummy?” “Fuck no.” “What?!” “I should break up with you for this shit” “the fuck?”

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.05. intros

EXHIBIT TWO: RIDE OR DIE BROS FOR LIFE

suna rintarou °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

middle blocker for the msby volleyball team and wanted to major in something art related but ended up going into athletic training with sakusa. in high school, atsumu, osamu, and him would very frequently sneak out at night usually to graffiti a wall and atsumu and him have kept up the tradition. whenever they travel to other cities to play an away game, they’ll try and find the time to go out and leave their mark on the city. in college, he started to do things like leave little snippets of lyrics from romantic songs on walls in sharpie or spray paint </3 he first met y/n in high school and they didn't talk much despite being in the same friend group. he a her from afar but never said anything because he didn’t feel like she knew him well enough that she would return his feelings if he told her. as a result, ever since graduation, he’s been finding small ways to be closer to her. although he isn’t majoring in art, he started to hang around the art department more, and would follow her around whenever she came to develop photos. she’d let him come with her into the department’s dark room and explain the process to him. he tries his best to listen but most of the time he get distracted while looking at her <3 eventually he started to invite her to come wander the city with him in search of street art and told her he’d start sending her photos of art that he found in other cities (which he's totally not making and then sending to her as if he's just randomly stumbled upon the most heartwrenching, romantic art ever). as long as he’s with her he couldn't care less what they're doing; to him, the real artwork is right next to him <3 she’s taking photos of something written on a wall while he’s looking at her <3

miya atsumu & miya osamu °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

atsumu

setter for msby <3 made his bio in retaliation to his brother and then got upset when osamu didn’t care. didn’t even want to go to college but really wanted to play for msby and didn’t want to be left out of everyone else going to school so he’s chilling in communications with bokuto. loves to come to onigiri miya on days y/n works because she gives him discounts and he jokes that she’s a better cook than osamu (which psychologically, for him, is probably true. samu cooks for tsumu and curses the food while y/n tries to put at least a little bit of love into what she makes for him). at some point tried to flirt with y/n and then realized she did not love when he visited because of him but bc he would bring suna. often comes by himself to onigiri miya or brings bokuto with him to ask yn how things with suna, completely ignoring the fact that she has a boyfriend (which leaves her confused about every single life choice she's made) and then will immediately text suna being like “y/n and me are talking about u rn LL sucks to suck i bet ur wondering what she thinks of u"

osamu

always gives suna discounts when he comes and will immediately take over whatever order y/n is working on so that she can make suna’s foof <3 he’s like a double agent for both sides but doesn’t get too involved because things with suga are making it difficult. he’s definitely someone suna goes to a lot for advice and although suna tends to only come on days when y/n works, sometimes on late nights after practice when osamu is the only one left working, suna will come in and they’ll share a drink and talk about y/n and more

bokuto koutarou & oikawa tooru °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

bokuto

wing spiker for msby and self proclaims himself as the ace <3 sakusa and him beef a little bit about it but the entire team is made up of doubles anyway so they kind of share the title. he’s matching users with atsumu and oikawa and also asked akaashi if they could have matching headers <3 akaashi sent him his current header which bokuto immediately started using <3 my guy has got so many friends and is loved by everyone so he’s actually having the best time of his life in college!!! besides when exams come around. then he’s hiding under a table and it takes the collective effort of akaashi, atsumu, and oikawa’s to get him out.

oikawa

second setter for msby! atsumu and him actually lowkey connected immediately and the team often uses a 6-2 rotation to utilize two setters and it’s been working out pretty well. other volleyball teams quiver hearing about msby’s lineup LMAO. he’s also a photography major which has led to suna often asking him how y/n is doing <3 does a lot of portraits and posts his works on a separate photography account. has started to join atsumu and suna when they sneak out while on away games to find somewhere to leave a piece of art.

extras <3

suna, atsumu, osamu, bokuto, and oikawa all live together

it is either very peaceful or a living hell

atsumu and bokuto will get riled up about something together and start having an energetic burst while suna isolates in his room (or more often is slipping out to go hang with y/n)

oikawa’s pretty chill and is in his actually-studying-for-exams era

osamu’s usually busy at work

so it’s peaceful (according to their definition) when not everyone is home but sometimes atsumu will start beefing with osamu about something and shit hits the fan

suna is heavily heavily heavily inspired by this guy named @/greg_goya on instagram

when i had this idea for street art i really spent an hour on instagram and google combined looking for this guy bc the art he does is totally what i was going for

and when i say inspired i mean suna is literally greg goya. i will probably use screen shots from my man greg in this smau so ty to him in advance he's a king 👑

both "exhibits" or friend groups are lowkey one big friend group but there's a small natural divide bc most of the ride or die bros are from inarizaki and some of them (cough atsumu cough bokuto cough suna if he didn't want to be around y/n 24/7 cough) said that they NEEDED a bros only gc

taglist: @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @0moonii @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @bluebeanbee @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 (form to be added to taglist! <3)

prev. | m.list | next

[k-is-for-potassium]

MOOT NAME AND PRONOUN MASTERPOST >:D (idea stolen from asher lol)

@miku-blue-n-pronouns – genderfluid, idk name or pronouns

@izzyfizzykitty – izzy, she/her

@waverthebluephoenix – grrr idk

@your-gay-emo-cousin – lyla, she/her

@laurenshamiltonjr – >:) may, she/they

@your-everyday-theatre-kid – (real) lyric, she/they

@discocannon8002 – disco(?), she/her according to pfp

@lil-gae-disaster – (real) noah, they/them

@im-a-skeleton-in-your-closet – rip asher (they deactivated)

@bleep-bloop-boo – (>:333) honey, she/her

@musical-dash-trash – they have the best asks >:) bug, she/he/they/ask (preference shifts)

@that-dam-heartstopper-fan – (SAME ALSO PJO REF) darcy/darce, ash, angel, she/they demigirl

@kwilooo – kira, any pronouns

@mediumdoodles – medium/variations, any pronouns

@galaxys-universe – galaxy, they/she (prefers they)

@cloud-makers-make-pollution – LES MIS BESTIE!! idk name, she/her

@mybedroomceilingsbored – (love ur banner) mouse, she/her

@emdabitchass – ooc is em, emmie, emma, emersyn, any pronouns, prefers he/they

@unstableunicornsofasgard – forrest, he/they (i don't talk to them much but he seems awesome >:))

@small-giggle – (holy shit it has 500 followers how am i moots with someone so famous) angel or jelly (they don't like caps for its name) it/they/she

@margaret-the-duck – (had a typo and almost did fuck instead of duck lol) maggie, she/her

@demigod-jack-hearth – uhh it's an rp blog so im not quite sure?

@bifluidmax08 – robin/max but can call them robbie, b, or maxi

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes – CHAPPELL BESTIE!!!!! no name, she/her

@noahher – noah, he/him

@squiggles-of-rats – @ang3lic-t3ars sideblog lol

@phoenixwench – no idea lol

@adumbteenboy BOYS WILL BE BUGS URL?! also idk

@codexnuminous – codex, they/them

@steph-schuyler – stephanie/steph, she/her

@eyes-shining-with-love – piper, they/star/song/spark/lyric/idol (woahh lots of pronouns!!)

@nowjumpinthewater – rania, she/her

@marsfingershurt – mar, they/them

@ang3lic-t3ars – riley/ry, she/xey

@definitionoffuckup – (MY POOKIE) star/al/grape (garpe), he/they COINED THE BABNA 😨 TAG

@next-level-simp – (real) leyla, she/her

@frogsthatbite – (IM PRETTY SURE SHE INTRODUCED ME TO NOAHFINNCE??? :000) she/her

@stickbug-made-entirely-of-spite – SUPER COOL ARTIST AND BUG-LOVER :D stickbug, any non-gendered pronouns (they, it, etc)

@the-seas-most-lovable-bitch – azriel, they/she/he

@the-gods-strange-children – sol, she/they

@mun-urufu – transfem, that's it :(

@i-eat-so-much-grass – (real) flynn, they/them

@theronanlynchshow – ronan/rose, she/her but drc

@crowofthestars – m, they/any except she and it

@coswinx – (cat pfp :0) ozzie, xe/she/it (COOL PRONOUNS :D)

@sketch-begginerr – ce? she/they/he/any

@tealeafstew – laurel; any or she/they/he

@whythankyouforthetrauma – (I LOVE THE HEADER) she/her

@weird-dork37 – iris, any prns

@raeprise – rae; he/they

@moonage-nightterrors – el; they/them

@thedancingclowns – (FELLOW METAL FAMILY FAN 💪💪) heath/dee; he/they

@lavaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa – lava; they/them

@daggerhobbit – felix, aster, wren; xe/it/they NOT she/her (awesome pronouns)

@asters-tempo – aster, bread; ei love neopronouns and rn likes ei/it/they

@bees-official – (glad u finally fixed the typo lol) bee, he/him

@powehi-the-blackhole – idk zyr name (is that how u spell that pronoun? not quite sure /gen) ze/zym (COOL PRONOUNSSS)

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling – ana; any, they/she preferred

@nao-walks-into-poles – nao; any pronouns

@beenoop – cam; agender, accepts he/him

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat – (ahhh i love ur url) blue or ben; any pronouns

@remithegayshoebill – remi probably, idk tho

@not-sammie – sammie (OR ARE THEY?!); they/she

@cactus-with-boobs – hannah; she/her (GIRLLLL I WOULD GLADLY PLAY SMASH WITH YOU)

@justmemyselfandthefridge – fridge, she/her

@garden-of-runar – runar; pronouns change based on feelings, currently says he/him in the intro post

@saintperseus – james; he/him

@cemeterygrace – noa; any

@mush-fool – mxri, mint; intro post currently says they/xe

@discoveredreality – ari; she/her

@sotiredimbored – kuko or ollie; any pronouns

@shark-tranny – noelle; she/they

@goobsie0 – goobs; any pronouns

@fairyycoffin – aster; she/they

@eef-stars – BLUD WHERE IS UR INTRO POST

@divinequo – he/him

@imadragonhehe – RAHHH IDK

@touslin – r; they/he

@cloverthesimp365 – clover; she/her

AND THATS ALL!! lmk if you wanna be taken off/correct your part of the list :3 (this will be updated quite frequently, if i can help it)

[yuan4i]

yuan4i’s guide n tips on writing a smau! 

apps : (i use social maker, however, it's been deleted from the app store)

ios texting :  - memeimessage - fake all ios twitter :  - twinote - twimemo android texting : - fake chat android twitter :  - white bird - tweet creator more android : -  faked pictures (headers, pfps, posts) :  - pinterest  - irl photos 

tips & guide :

1) plot -  plan your plot in detail. this may sound silly, but you need to know what’s going on in your story. before writing, i make little jot-dot notes on docs for each act in my stories. as someone who reads tons of romance, i find it easy to come up with romance plots.  think of scenarios that i’d like to add to the story. if you’re having a hard time thinking of them, feel free to search something like “writing prompts” “dialogue pieces” and “romance troupes” online/on tumblr. those then to spark a lot of creativity. tip 1 : listen to music! music is a big inspiration for me! i usually analyze the lyrics and write with them. i tend to base a lot of my stories off of songs! 

2) characters - while deciding and making friend groups, i try to include different personalities (the extrovert, logical ones, the mom of the group, etc) . i find it important to have a character that is more “extroverted” or “chaotic” to move along the plot. i also like to add a character who has mutual friends with mc and the love interest.  tip 2 : when making the texts, i tend to give them each different texting styles that would seem to fit their character! (ex, a more serious character tends to text with correct grammar and spelling, etc) the way a character talks/texts would say a lot about them.  

3) writing - it’s okay if you don’t write down every single detail in the story. since it’s a smau, it doesn’t need to be as detailed! and don’t be scared to leave some chapters off on cliffhangers!! cliffhangers are a great way to continue the next chapter :) like i mentioned before, i jot down notes for the skeleton of the plot! as soon as you have an idea, write it down right away. i write the written chapters on docs, then paste it on tumblr in case the writing doesn’t save. another thing is to try to get ahead and prewrite chapters! it makes updating a lot easier.  tip 3 : if you find yourself having a difficult time finding motivation to write, try doing the 3-minute method. sit down, and write for 3 minutes. after those 3 minutes, decide if you’d like to continue or not (this works for pretty much anything! studying, drawing, etc. usually i get caught up in it so i choose to continue.) 

hopefully all of this helped :) good luck with writing your smaus and remember to have fun <3! there is no “right” or “wrong” way to write a smau; it’s creative writing!!  feel free to ask any questions or anything, i’d be glad to help ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊

[butchdiaz]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ commission me! ✩·˚ ༘ *

hi! i'm pretty broke right now so i thought i'd open up some commissions :') everything is custom! dm me your ideas and we can chat about it and make sure i'm delivering what you want. payment will be through my ko-fi. i like to keep an open line of communication, i can send you drafts along the way or keep the final product a surprise if that's what you prefer. all prices are in CAD :)

if you like my work and want to just buy me a coffee, that would be very appreciated too <33

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

category 1: VIDEOS

*9-1-1 only at this time, OR, you source/send the content you want me to edit

$60 / minute examples

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

category 2: GRAPHICS

*can be fandom related, non-fandom, anything at all

phone customization

$5 — lockscreen or homescreen (examples under the cut) $8 — lockscreen + homescreen matching bundle

tumblr customization

$5+ — headers (examples under the cut)

lyric edits

$5 — per panel, up to 10 panels (examples)

graphic edits

$15 — per panel, up to 5 panels $20 — per panel (animated), up to 5 panels (examples)

if you want to get a better more broad idea of my past work and style, you can check out my old editing instagram account lol

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

dm me/send an ask for more information, clarification or if you want a commission! ♡ mwah! ♡

keep reading to see more examples of my work!

lock screens:

headers:

[petewentzisblack1312]

If you haven't done so already, I would love to hear you elaborate on You're Crashing and how it relates to the Fred Hampton Jr trial? My knowledge of him and the trial starts with your header text and google isn't exactly forthcoming on the climate of public opinion at the time it was actually happening. Also I just want to hear your thoughts since I heard it from you first, if that's ok

no problem. take what i say with a grain of salt, as im not american, so this isnt my history directly. additionally, this was before my time.

after the beating of rodney king at the hands of police, and the acquital of 3 of the 4 officers responsible, there were riots. the 1992 los angeles riots to be precise. these riots sprang up amid a backdrop of tension between black american and korean communities, and during these riots, a korean menswear store was firebombed. fred hampton jr, son of civil rights activist and martyr fred hampton, was found guilty for this, with the main piece of evidence i believe being that there were blisters on his hands. he and his supporters maintain his innocence for this event. many people, particularly black political activists, believe that his guilty verdict was mostly because he continued his fathers legacy in fighting for racial justice in america.

it is a known fact explicitly stated by the band that youre crashing but youre no wave is inspired by this trial (this is pre release, so the song names are different). this is demonstrated through the narrative told by the lyrics. the story ended before it began. the DA didnt need to give his closing argument, because the jury already believed it from the narrative spun on the news. 'everyones looking for relief/a bidding war for an old flame's grief' the old flame in this case being his father, from whom he picked up the torch. you could pay to close the case like a casket, because whats inside it is messy, and no one wants to see the dirty guts of the truth. the jury is stacked. the witnesses are well paid (too well dressed for the witness stand). the song heavily, heavily implies over and over, that this is not a fair trial, and that there is a foregone conclusion.

i feel as though its easy to argue this song is out of place, but personally, while its VERY on the nose and not really all that subtle (and i like that about it, dont get it twisted), i think it fits into the theme. i mentioned a while back that 'be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. then life seems most enchanted after all' refers, in the context of its association with this album, to the stars in hollywood. ioh is about media narratives first and foremost. its about fame, and celebrity, and painting a perfect picture, one that sells well. its all about the artifice ('style your wake for fashion magazines' 'i only think in the form of crunching numbers in hotel room collectong Page Six lovers' '"we need umbrellas on the inside" get me just right.') and in this case, it shifts its focus from media and celebrity into media and politics. which i find really really interesting.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

See The Road You're On (Joel's Version)

A moodboard, 300 word drabble, and playlist celebrating Chapter 1 of Elks.

A/N: Posting these to help clean up the masterlist, don't mind me. Thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over and @saradika-graphics for the headers.

His heart beats with an unfamiliar feeling as he watches you hobble down the road, too proud to glance back, obviously too embarrassed for your own good. If only you knew how often he thinks about you, how closely he listens to Ellie when she talks about you, how many times he’s replayed that old mixed CD of yours with your name and the pretty faded flowers drawn on it… maybe then you’d look back at him. 

You fell in front of his home like an angel falling from the sky. He picked you up and bandaged your wounds. Today, you gave him a purpose, he loves having a purpose. Some days he feels that purpose dwindling behind the protective gates of Jackson. Ellie’s growing up, she doesn’t need him as much, what with all of her friends and teenage responsibilities. She’s thriving here, and he’s left feeling adrift. He’d never admit it, not even to Tommy. At least there’s always patrol and the freedom that provides him. Maybe he just needs more of a purpose, more of a reason here, maybe then he’d be satisfied. 

He steps back into his home, glancing at the couch you were just sitting on, before retreating to his studio. He unwraps his tools and picks up the perfect block of wood. Running his fingers over the smooth surface, he envisions the intricate lines he’ll carve for the fur, he feels a whisper of intimidation at the thought of shaping the delicate antlers.

Woodworking has been a new discovery for him, he’s always been better at settling his thoughts when his hands are occupied. He thinks of the first time he saw you all those months ago when he makes his first deliberate cut. 

Chapter 1 playlist and song reasonings behind cut. (AKA I just talk about music.)

“Caring Is Creepy” by The Shins opens up the whole story… I love the lyrics I chose for reader to hear before everything goes to shit. 

“Myth” by Beach House has been the song that has constantly stayed in my mind while writing these two characters, so it’s fitting that the chapter title comes from this song. Every Elks chapter title is taken from a song, because as any good fic author would tell you… song lyrics make great titles.

“Pitter Patter Goes My Heart” by Broken Social Scene is an instrumental but I got the thought of Joel walking out of the schoolhouse at the end of the chapter, his heart pitter patters against his chest when he realizes that reader is someone he might just want around. 

“Holding On” by War On Drugs might be one of the most Joel Miller songs ever. The lyrics deal with holding onto the memory of someone. Is an old memory just another way of saying goodbye?

“Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves reminds me of something my reader would write, plus I think the title says it all. 

“Second Nature” by Clairo plays to me like a “I have a huge crush on this person” song and LORD KNOWS that reader has been harnessing a crush on Joel for months. My train of thought destroyed.

“Sinking” by Clairo, yes, another Clairo song. If “Holding On” is Joel’s song, “Sinking” is reader’s song. Every night think of things I can’t do or haven’t done. And does it make me weak?

Next Chapter

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part four)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.7k summary: as the relationship progresses, strong feelings develop.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, talk of bullying & past trauma related to bullying, mentions alcohol consumption, family issues / family drama— if i missed anything, pls let me know!

a/n: this is a little filler chapter, but there’s details here that will be important later. also, it’s just a little happiness and fluff in the lives of eddie and his favourite popstar ;)

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Eddie is used to dealing with bullies.

His entire life consisted of people — mostly strangers — hating on him for one reason or the other. No matter the setting he found himself in, someone always had an opinion and they were never afraid to voice it. 

Whether it was to gossip about the way he was raised, his family situation, (which frankly wasn’t anybody’s business, not like they cared). Or to voice their distaste about the trailer park Eddie grew up in, unsafe and unclean. Then there were the folks that had a never ending issue with his personality, the shit he found interesting that differed slightly to most, and the music he was into, heavier than the charts. And for the more shallow crowd, his physical appearance always caused a wave of upset since how he chose to dress was a clear indicator of who he was on the inside.

The high school bullies, like Jason Carver and his gang of dipshits, well, they never let Eddie forget he was less than. On most days, he didn’t let that bother him. He had thick skin, Uncle Wayne made sure he knew from an age arguably too young that people were assholes and Eddie should never let anyone get into his head. Hence the provocations with Hawkins’ finest, that often led to fights he knew he could easily win, but never did since Uncle Wayne also said, “be the bigger man”. 

The music industry jackasses who wouldn’t give him a chance ‘cause Eddie and his band didn’t fit whatever image was considered hot at the time. Rejection after rejection. Bullshit reasons that made him angry, if not for himself, than for his friends that followed him out to Los Angeles, chasing a dream he’s had for years.

Then there were the critics: “who told these guys they’re good enough to try?”, “poor quality of lyrics and an even poorer performance”, “listening to the latest Corroded Coffin record is time I will never get back. sadly.”, “and for the next group of friends who think they have what it takes, let this be a lesson, you really do not”. To Eddie, these were empty words by people that hid behind a pen and paper, never bold enough to say it to his face. Although, it definitely hurt more when it was a fan gone rogue. Displeased by whatever shenanigan the band got up to and lashing out in the only way they knew how — cruel words.

Yes, Eddie was used to dealing with nonsense and he thought by now, at this stage in his life, he’d faced all of the bullies the world had to offer.

That is until he got involved with you.

Associating himself with someone of your stature was not a mistake by any means. In fact, Eddie would say the only mistake in his relationship with you was the time between your first meeting in August of ‘92 and your reconciliation all those months later. Time lost, wasted.

And Eddie was not an idiot. He knew that once people found out that ‘Corroded Coffin frontman and America’s sweetest popstar’ were some sort of an item, they’d voice their opinion, warranted or not. He was prepared for that, just like he was prepared to protect you from the usual bullshit he normally endured in the tabloids since he could take it, but you were pure and didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Granted, he didn’t expect he’d have to stand up for you so soon. He also didn’t expect the one person really rooting against your relationship with him, the one person he’d have to look out for amongst the group of usual suspects, would be your very own grandmother.

Yet here you all were.

Pacific Dining Car was exactly the type of restaurant Eddie usually avoided. Too much history in a place like this, attracting too many tourists who wanted to snap photos of the building featured in that one Chinatown scene. Privacy didn’t exist in a public setting like this one and Eddie knew to be careful with his reactions, after being burned once too many times in the past: ‘Eddie Munson, guest from hell.’. 

The dinner location, chosen by your grandmother, also clearly bothered you. Knee bouncing, brushing erratically against the rockstar’s own leg, as you looked around to every misplaced sound, anxious of who could be listening in on the conversation with the matriarch of your family. 

It didn’t help that the line of questioning offered by your grandmother was nothing short of hostile and with every passing second, you felt increasingly upset because you never got a chance to warn Eddie about her clear bias and obvious distaste towards him.

But on the outside, Eddie seems calm. His large, ring-clad hand is spread across your bouncing thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your covered skin. He holds eye contact with your Nana from across the table, unafraid of her words and how downright rude she is being. He even makes a joke at his own expense, earning himself a brow raise, as if to say “I didn’t know you had it in you”.

Even if it’s all a charade. Eddie knows not to let the bullies see him sweat, and at the end of the day, the longer he’s sat at this horrendous dinner with your grandmother, the more he’s convinced that’s exactly what she is: a big bully.

“And tell me about your parents, Edward?”

The hold he has on your leg gets a little tighter, so you glance at him, witnessing how his features shift just for half-a-second from composure to an expression you haven’t seen on him before. A certain melancholy behind his brown eyes that’s reminiscent of when your mom thinks about the father she’s never met.

Suddenly, you’re feeling protective and a confidence that’s failed you all night resurfaces. You turn back to look at your Nana. Placing one forearm on the table between you, then lift your index finger, which she notices immediately, and in a voice quite stern, you warn her to stop.

“I think that’s enough of the third degree,” you say to your Nana, unafraid to hold her gaze for the first time all night. “Eddie’s been very gracious, answering all of your questions very honestly when he really didn’t have to.”

Eddie says your name ‘cause he doesn’t need you fighting his battles, but you don’t pay attention to the murmur that’s escaped his lips.

“Can we just finish our meal in congenial silence, please? You’ve flown across the country, for what exactly, I still don’t know. Since you’re here and you invited us out for dinner, let us at least enjoy dessert,” you snap and retrieve your arm, wrapping it instead around Eddie’s bicep.

There’s a moment of silence. Your Nana’s scrutinising gaze falls on where you’re now visibly holding the rockstar sitting beside you. She’s not the only one looking. The sea of murmurs and glances engulfs you whole, yet right this moment, it’s not bothering you in any way. In fact, you welcome it.

Eddie tilts his head in your direction, a small smile circling his lips as you lean into him further, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s not really thinking of the people staring either. In that moment, as the emotions from the evening slowly die down, the only thing on his mind is how strongly he feels about you.

Even though Eddie has never needed anyone to stand up for him, anyone to fight off the bullies he’s often encountered, watching you put yourself in the line of fire, protect him from your own grandmother, further ignited these feelings inside of him. Fondness, care, and something much stronger than the sexual attraction that’s clearly been there from day one.

He places a kiss on top of your head, lingering a little longer to inhale the scent of your undoubtedly expensive perfume. The corners of your lips twitch upward at the contact. This morning, you were a nervous wreck about the world knowing you and Eddie were some sort of item. Now, mere hours later, you might as well have been holding up the middle finger and calling the paparazzi yourself. If anything, it was a liberating experience.

“I guess it doesn’t matter what I say,” your Nana says with an exaggerated sigh. She picks up her wine glass, taking a slow sip of the maroon liquid.

“Is that really so bad?” You question.

The shrug she offers is answer enough. It makes you roll your eyes, though the reaction isn’t appreciated by your grandmother. She tuts her tongue, shaking your finger at you as she takes another sip of the wine.

“That’s not very lady-like,” she says in a displeasing tone while leaning slightly forward.

You match her movement, letting your arm fall into your lap as Eddie places his on the back of your chair, fingers reaching out for you, softly grazing your back through your blouse.

“Oh, and how you’ve been behaving all night, is?”

“Honey, I’m just looking out for you. Why can’t you see that?”

It’s condescending, the way she says it, so it makes it all the harder to believe. And that’s the way it’s been your entire life. Her word was gospel. There was no fighting it. She was a manipulative woman and what she wanted to happen, always got done.

That didn’t bother you growing up. Mainly because her strong opinions and calculating hold on the world around her got you where you currently were: America’s favourite starlet. Selfish? Yes. But you’ve been called worse in the press.

There was someone else involved now. Someone you cared about arguably more than you cared about your career or pristine image. Eddie didn’t judge you like everyone else in your life did, and even though the two of you didn’t have the best start, being around him these last two days was nothing short of heavenly. So he didn’t deserve the treatment he’s so far received from your Nana.

“I’ve said this many times before, but anything I’ve ever done since you were a little girl was to get you where you needed to be. Get you where you belong. Now that you’ve made it, a little appreciation would be nice.”

Her words sting. Tears burn in the corners of your eyes as you tell her you’ve always appreciated her. She just shrugs again. Now Eddie’s the one being protective. He straightens his posture and before you realise what is happening, the rockstar is chiming into the conversation.

“With all due respect, there’s no reason to treat her the way you do.”

Your Nana’s eyes shift to Eddie, a smug frown circling her lips.

“Edward, please don’t get involved in business you know nothing about.”

The rockstar smirks. “The fact you’re calling this business, instead of a moment between family, tells me all I need to know about you,” he states and before your Nana gets a chance for rebuttal, he turns to you.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

All you do is nod, pushing down the tears and smiling at him with appreciation.

-

Time in Los Angeles moved differently than in New York.

The pace was slower, more relaxed. There was no urgency with anything. People took their sweet damn time, no matter how hectic their schedule was. None of this go, go, go, that you would find on the streets of New York. You appreciated that about California, which is perhaps why you ended up staying longer than intended. 

That and the curly-haired boy you got to wake up with, every morning for the past three months.

The Corroded Coffin frontman had opened his home to you entirely following the dinner with your Nana. He had his assistant contact Holly that very same night and the following morning, your belongings were brought from the hotel to his Hidden Hills property. A week later, you arranged with Val to ship some of your clothes from your New York apartment.

In the months that passed, Eddie’s home had quickly become your favourite place on the planet, and despite not being a couple in the official terms, your relationship with the rockstar grew stronger with every hug, kiss, and every single time he put his strong hands on you, touched you in a way that made you see stars.

Tabloids were eating it up too. Every outing you and Eddie had graced the front page of every shitty magazine this country had to offer — which your labels were genuinely thrilled by ‘cause it helped create a buzz about your upcoming single with the band.

Obviously there were the people like your Nana who hated the relationship and made their unwanted opinions quite clear, or the people who doubted and thought it was some sort of PR stunt to boost sales. However, in your bubble with Eddie, you simply stopped caring. He made all of your anxieties disappear with nothing but a sweet smile.

And during this time, between spending hours by the pool, hanging out in the kitchen that before you came along was never used, or pulling orgasms from one another for hours on end, the two of you also had time to work on new music together.

There was honestly enough material for an entire album, if not two. Lyrics to songs that would never actually see the light of day, which made the whole writing process all the more special. Just you, Eddie, and his guitar. Scribbling rhymes on napkins, magazines, anything that was within reach once inspiration struck.

The songs were quite good too. You both knew it. Perhaps the best music either of you have ever come up with, but it was also vastly different from both of your usual styles. One song together, a guaranteed hit. An entire album? That’s a sell out.

So there’s a box underneath the bed you now share together filled with all the written lyrics and maybe, one day in the very distant future, they would get published in a memoir about your lives. Until then…

“Serious question,” the boy that’s constantly on your mind asks while stepping out of the bathroom, a loose towel hanging around his hips, water drops trailing down his toned and tattooed torso. “What are you wearing tonight to the party, sweetheart? Marianne said we should be somewhat matching, but I’ve got no fucking clue what that means.”

“Never attended an event as a Hollywood it couple, huh?” You tease, sitting up.

“Never really dated anyone, and you know that, baby.” 

He stops at the foot of the bed and leans down to peck your lips, wet curls patting your cheeks. You hum against him, satisfied at the contact, and he smiles, wide, teeth grazing your mouth.

“Well, we’re not really dating either,” you murmur.

“So I guess we’re not actually attending this party as a couple, huh?” Eddie bites back playfully before kissing your cheek. He stands straight and you watch, eyes trailing along his multiple tattoos, as he wanders towards his closet.

There’s a happy expression on your face, one that’s only ever present around Eddie. How he makes you feel is not affected by any label the two of you have on your relationship, so do you really care that he hasn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend? 

Perhaps.

Actually, not really.

He's told you many times that he has difficulty processing emotions correctly, “like a normal person would, sweetheart”. Given the stories he’s told you about his upbringing, it’s completely understandable. And it’s not like you offered any guidance in this department as your idea of love was fairly skewered too. Idealistic, since your parents had it so good from the moment they met, but also messy because your Nana presented the other side of the coin with how she led her life.

To this day, your mother doesn’t know who her father is. She’s not entirely sure if he even knows she exists, if he’s even still alive. She’s asked many times, but as far as you were aware, she was never given a straight answer. Then there was the man your Nana eventually married. Rich and handsome, the only two consistencies in her string of stories about the lavish life they had during the brief time they were together. From what your mom remembers of those days, the man was kind. “And honey, at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters when it comes to love,” she’d say whenever she’d talk about him.

Eddie is kind. 

Taking your mothers advice, that’s all that matters.

You hop off the bed and follow the rockstar. He’s rifling through some shirts when you walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He relaxes into you. It’s minute, but you notice it immediately and it makes your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“I like that black one,” you say after resting your chin on his bare shoulder. “And if Marianne says she wants us to match, that will go with the dress Versace made for me. Especially if you wear it with those leather pants you have and pair it all with a chain or two.”

Eddie takes the shirt you pointed out off the hanger without question.

“If only I had you before last year's Grammys,” he huffs out a lighthearted laugh, “My outfit was so bad. I know you definitely wouldn’t have let me leave the house wearing what I did.”

You chuckle delicately while letting your arms fall. 

“Well, now I wanna see a picture,” you tease, then take a step back to lean against the set of custom-built drawers in the middle of the space.

“No way,” Eddie protests and spins to look at you, a wide grin gracing his features. He places the shirt to the side and stands in front of you, knee bumping against your own. “Sometimes I’m glad you actually didn’t know who I was before we met,” he says, taking your face in his hands, “This is one of those times.”

You roll your eyes. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Think Grace Jones with that gold cape-thing,” Eddie cites, “They had me wear something similar over my outfit, but instead of a plain one, it had all these random embroideries. I looked like I had just gotten out of bed.”

The picture he’s painted appears in front of your eyes and you throw your head back in an array of soft giggles.

“I was at last year’s Grammys,” you say in between those chuckles, “Can’t believe I didn’t see you, especially if you say your outfit was that atrocious.”

Eddie ponders your words for a moment, licking his lips. His thumbs graze along your cheekbones, almost as if he’s fighting himself, fighting whether he should say what he thinks to say: “I deliberately avoided you.”. 

The Corroded Coffin frontman has made it clear since day one that he’s known exactly who you are. Shit, that wasn’t hard. The entire world knew you. 

While Eddie was trying to graduate high school for the third time, you were gracing covers of magazines all the girls in Hawkins bought. And although he’d never admit it, he was guilty of buying some of said magazines too, though for different reasons than his female peers… 

The printed images fueled his fantasies. After all, he’s just a dude and you have always been drop-dead gorgeous. Though, at risk of sounding like the perv he can sometimes be, he’ll keep that part to himself. 

Honestly, that’s why he’s never really said much other than simply knowing who you are. 

It’s why he’s never said anything about seeing you at different events you both attended over the years, once he’s made it big with the band. Or why he’s never said about wanting to talk to you then, only because he wanted to get into your pants, not because he was a fan since he really didn’t care for the music you produced — yeah, perv. 

He definitely feels guilty about it. Especially now that he’s succeeded. Especially now that he does get to have you, kiss you, pleasure you. And aside from that, he’s gotten to know you on a much deeper level than what you presented to the world. Jesus, especially now that he’s fallen for you. Harder than he intended.

“I-I saw you,” he eventually admits in a murmur so quiet, he has to clear his throat and say it again, only louder. “I-I thought about walking up to you and using my usual charm, you know. Flirting with you a little, making you weak in the knees.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

Eddie smirks. “‘Cause you’re you. Hot and honestly a little intimidating,” he answers honestly. “Baby, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the second you enter a room, all eyes are constantly on you. There’s this aura about you, it attracts a lot of attention, wanted or not, and that scared me.”

He pauses. “I saw you, thought you looked smoking and I think I even said that to the guys,” he laughs, “But when I downed a drink for a little liquid courage, it did the complete opposite. I couldn’t move.”

You nod at his words, taking them in.

Then you wonder what the last year would’ve looked like if you officially met Eddie a few months before you actually did. If he came up to you at the Grammys, what would you have said? Would you have landed in bed with him the way you did anyway? Would you be here right now, feeling all that you’re feeling for him? Or would it have been a random hook up in the bathrooms of Radio City Music Hall, only to be forgotten before they announced Album of the Year.

Shaking the thoughts away, since at the end of the day, it doesn’t really fucking matter, you push yourself into Eddie even more, chest pressed against his, hands on his neck.

“Does it still scare you?”

It’s a whisper. Loud enough to hear, especially as you incline towards him, lips now mere inches apart.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t have followed you into my home last August if it did.”

“Good.”

When your lips connect in an ardent kiss, one of Eddie’s hands moves to your waist. He squeezes, fingers slowly making their way up your tank top, caressing your skin. He’s slow with his movements, deliberate ‘cause each of your pressure points is engraved in his memory — and no matter what happens between you, he’s convinced how your body reacts to his touch, will remain in his thoughts forever. 

Shit. Is this what love is?

The nerves kick in then. He pulls back slightly, scrunching his nose for a brief moment, before letting his arms fall and taking a step to the side. Tilting your head in his direction, you poke his arm.

You’re a little flustered by his sudden departure, missing his touch instantly. When you go to question what just happened, Eddie’s avoiding your gaze, fidgeting with the shirt he placed to the side.

There’s a slight sting in your chest, but you push it down because his mood tends to change depending on what the two of you are doing, or where the conversation is heading — just like yours often does. This was clearly one of those situations. Something crossed his mind and whatever it was, must have startled him a little.

“Where did you just go?”

He doesn’t immediately answer your question. Taking the time instead to slide on a pair of clean boxers, the wet towel disregarded on the wooden floor. He then works to unbutton the shirt you picked out for him, and you give him the time he needs ‘cause he’s often done the same for you.

And Eddie’s head is spinning. He knew his feelings for you were strong, he just didn’t realise that they were this strong. He didn’t realise they were love strong. 

Love is a big word. It’s a big deal. Falling in love with someone is an even bigger deal and yes, he’s imagined falling in love with you over the last few months you two spent living together, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for it to happen.

Gareth would tell him he should’ve been prepared.

Eddie recounts the stories his bandmate shared about meeting his “better half”, and how the two of them fell in love, eventually starting their beautiful family. Eddie then thinks about how beautiful you look in the morning, bare-faced and peaceful. He thinks about how you make breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening, both meals which you eat together at the kitchen island you first met by, and a smile circles his lips at the memory. 

He then thinks about how much more you’ve opened up since then, telling him about your childhood in New York and the woman that really didn’t like you being with him. All those stories only affirmed this belief he’s had that you grew up in completely different worlds, yet you never let those differences get between you. If anything, for someone who grew up richer than the richest of Hawkins, you were more down to earth than every single one of them.

Jesus H. Christ.

“I-I… Fuck,” the rockstar clears his throat before finally looking back at you. “Wanna skip this thing? Watch MTV or somethin’ instead?”

You chuckle. “You want to bail on our own release party to watch MTV? The guys will kill us. Not to mention Marianne, she’d definitely have our heads.”

“But, we have fun watching MTV,” he whines, reaching for you once again. He guides your arms around him before resting his hands on your hips and pushing himself into you. “Plus, I think there will be other parties we’ll get to go to as a couple.”

You arch a brow, smirk circling your lips.

“A couple, huh?”

He smiles down at you. “Yeah, sweetheart. A couple.”

Heat rushes to your face. You’re unsure as to why you’re suddenly feeling embarrassed, but your hands move to your face, barely covering your eyes. And Eddie is smiling wide, definitely pleased by the reaction he’s gotten. So he places a tender kiss on each of your fingers, before reaching for them, intertwining with his own.

“Would you like that?” Eddie asks quietly, leaning closer as he does.

A nod of the head and a peck on the corner of his mouth is your response. It’s all Eddie needs for his heart to soar inside his chest.

“Then I think we should attend our own party as a couple,” you say quietly against his lips. “And I promise, the second it starts getting boring, we’re leaving to watch MTV in nothing but our underwear.” You draw out the last syllable, voice fading into nothing.

Eddie groans, low tone, then nods his head rather reluctantly. You kiss him gently once, then a second time only deeper, before freeing yourself from his grasp, also rather reluctantly, and walking back into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you call out.

The rockstar is behind you within seconds of the sentence leaving your lips. He attaches himself back to you, like a magnet, mouth to the crook of your neck, trailing sloppy kisses upwards towards your jawline. And you squeal in his embrace, laughing as he pushes you forward, stumbling towards the bathroom.

“I’m gonna help,” Eddie quips.

“But you literally just showered,” you giggle.

“Didn’t you hear me,” he stunts, nibbling on your earlobe. “I’m gonna help you, baby, ‘cause what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

And you’re on cloud nine when he labels himself as such. You tell him you like the sound of that, even though it’s such a miniscule thing in the grand scheme of things, after all, you’ve been acting like a couple for months.

But he says it again, “I’m your boyfriend now, sweetheart.”, and you’re shaking with excitement. Eddie fucking Munson, your boyfriend.

Let’s really hope it ends well.

as always, thank you for reading! reblog & tell me what you think

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld

[little-diable]

Texas - Dean Winchester

I had to post this today, simply because I'm so so so obsessed with the header @deathofpeaceofmind created and y'all needed to see it. This is sad, but please give it a chance (I know y'all don't like reading my angsty fics). Lyrics from the song "Texas" by Jessie Murph. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: When a fling turns into something more, but life forces you to part ways.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), angst, heartbreak, crying

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

You got all the good shit, and I got consequences, I'm cold, I'm lost, I'm ruined, and you go back to Texas

The sun was drenching the sky in a deep orange, a colour so vivid, Dean wasn‘t sure if he was awake or still caught in a dream. Silence engulfed him and Sammy, only Baby‘s sounds echoed through the air, doing little to drown out the confusion ringing in his ears, the messy thoughts he couldn’t shake off. 

It hadn’t even been an hour since Dean had parted from her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, not daring to wake her as he left her apartment behind, very well knowing he won’t ever get to see her again. Her, the woman that had instantly caught his attention the second he had entered that one godforsaken bar two weeks ago. Her, the woman that had ended up in Baby‘s backseat only hours after Dean had bought her the first of many drinks to come. Her, the woman his heart had called out to, and was now mourning.

Fuck, he had been stupid, so unbelievably stupid, and yet he hadn’t been able to pull away. He should have left her that night, shouldn’t have exchanged phone numbers, but he hadn’t been able to let her go, not without knowing that he’d get to see her again soon. (Y/n) had taken his heart hostage like a wanderer getting lost in unknown territories, ending up in the grasp of their enemy. 

But fate had never been kind to Dean Winchester, he hadn't been created to live a life filled with love, no, he was following the call of death, of all things coming to an end. An end (y/n) wouldn't see for years to come.

“Dean,” Sammy spoke his brother's name, carefully – just a whisper, not daring to rip his brother out of his trance without a warning, not used to seeing his piercing green eyes filled with tears. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Dean couldn’t help but scoff, cursing his brother for asking a question this stupid. Of course it was about her, about (y/n), the woman his drunken self would probably have married if their paths had crossed in Vegas. Sammy wasn’t oblivious, he had shared a few conversations with (y/n), understanding why Dean was that intrigued by her. And yet he still found himself surprised about the way Dean was now reacting to their departure. 

(Y/n) certainly hadn’t been the first woman Dean had found himself crushing on, certainly not the first he had wanted to stick around, but something was different this time. Something so awfully heartbreaking the older Winchester brother directed all his anger towards his stupid heart. Fuck, could one even fall in love, within a few hours, days? 

You came in like a one-man show, out of town, had a couple years on me, knew that shit I didn't know, and it felt so real that I couldn't let go, while you ran me around like a motherfuckin' rodeo

While Dean was driving through blurring by towns and areas he had crossed before, (y/n) was still laying in her bed, glassy eyes directed up ahead, staring at her ceiling. Her heart was clenching in her chest, a pain so unfamiliar (y/n)’s mind began to wonder if the past two weeks had happened or if it had just been a trick of her bored brain. 

Dean Winchester had ripped her heart from her chest, linking his together with hers to form a bond that was now pushing her into soaring waves of sadness, of confusion, and of anger. It felt like those movies, the ones she'd cry about on days where everything got too much and she needed to let go of the sadness bottled up inside of her. Stupid movies that had now caught up with her. She was paying the price of a crime she hadn't committed. But perhaps it had been her fault after all, perhaps it had been her fault for falling in love with a man she barely knew. A man with eyes so green her mind took her back to her childhood days, the carefree hours where she'd get lost in meadows and forests she no longer visited.

How dare he let go, how dare he leave her behind without saying much but a halfhearted apology that now rang in her ears like a song she couldn’t stop thinking of. 

With her eyes squeezed shut, (y/n) tried to get rid of her memories, trying to forget the past two weeks that have felt all too real, so full of an emotion she had stopped believing in years ago. An unlucky try that only pushed her further into her misery. 

“Don’t you dare close your eyes, darling.” Fuck, that grin would be the death of her. Dean was hovering over her, pressing (y/n) further into the comfortable mattress of her big bed. He was nestling between her thighs, tongue running through her folds with skilled movements, very well knowing how to touch a woman. (Y/n) didn’t allow her thoughts to focus on the women he had once touched, wondering who had taught him to eat out a woman like this, rather trying to relish in the warm contact, on the orgasm that was slowly but surely coming upon her. 

“Christ, you’re too good at this.” Her voice trembled, eyes struggling to stay open, focused on his handsome features, on the freckles lingering on his skin like star formations filling the night sky. A view so breathtakingly beautiful one couldn’t help but marvel at it. 

One of his hands found hers, interlacing their fingers to hold onto her as (y/n) let go, back arched off her mattress, toes curled. An intense sensation swapped through her, filling every pore of her trembling body, making her choke on her cries as if this was the first time she ever got to experience something like this. 

Her heart was roaring in her chest, a sound so unfamiliar (y/n)’s mind wondered if she was still caught in her own body. But Dean didn’t give her any time to ponder over her thoughts, crawling up her body with a smirk growing on his lips, kissing her before another breath could be inhaled into her aching lungs. She could taste herself on his tongue, once again reminded of their closeness, of the bond (y/n) found herself clinging to, praying that Dean wouldn’t ever leave her again. 

“Ready for another round?” 

A cry wrecked through her, hands holding her face, trying to dry the tears that wouldn’t stop rolling. The pain that stuck to her was too much for her body, not knowing how to get rid of it, how to let go of the waves that tried to pull her under, drowning the helpless woman. Fuck, Dean Winchester had broken her heart, without even giving her one good explanation. 

You go back to Texas like it didn't happen, like I'm not here with all of this mess, and you drunk and out and you wildin' out

“Does she know?” Once again did Sammy’s voice break the silence, not used to sitting in Baby without any music rumbling through the speakers. Dean’s eyes hadn’t left the road once, not looking at his younger brother once – no matter how much Sammy moved in his seat, trying to catch his brother’s gaze. 

“No.” It was one simple word. A word that pieced together the puzzle, finally falling into place, though so suddenly, without another warning. Deep down Sammy had hoped that Dean had explained their profession to (y/n), something that would tie the two together, giving them a reason to cross paths again. 

“But why? She would have understood. What did you say to her?” Pain. An emotion so blinding began to fill Dean’s system, forcing the memory of yesterday evening to resurface. 

“What do you mean by one last time?” (Y/n) was placed in Dean’s lap, naked body pressed against his. The two had shared a kiss that had left them breathless seconds ago, a sensation that had been interrupted by Dean’s words, forcing (y/n) to halt in her movements. 

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, Sammy and I.” She froze, trying to search his eyes – without any luck. Dean had his green eyes focused on her hands, fumbling with the fingers that had touched every inch of his body in the past days. He didn’t dare meet her gaze, very well aware of the pain that was now swimming in her pupils, the same emotion he tried to swallow down. An unlucky try that left him choking on the breaths trying to suffocate him.

“What? Don’t fuck with me, Dean.” She let go of him, crawling from his lap to reach for her oversized shirt, suddenly feeling the urge to hide herself from his eyes. It took him another breath to reply, trying to sort through his thoughts. 

“We got another job offer we had to take, I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes, raising her hands to momentarily cover her face and the expression of pain tugging on her features. An uncomfortable silence began to fill her bedroom, the room that had been filled with sounds of pleasure just minutes ago. 

“I, uhm, I need a few moments.” Her quivering limbs did little to support her, guiding (y/n) out of her bedroom, away from Dean and the tears welling up in his eyes only just now. 

“There’s nothing to understand, Sam. Our lives aren’t made for relationships, I’d rather have her hate me than end up hurt because of this fucking shitshow we are damned with.” Dean’s voice had a dangerous growl to it, trying to stop the conversation before he’d start overthinking once again. He had made his peace, even though he wasn’t able to swallow down his pain rising in his throat like bile. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I really am.” 

“Will you stay for a bit longer?” Her whispers reverberated through the quiet bedroom, head placed on his chest, getting lost in the uneven beats of his heart. His big hand stroked her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

“Of course.” Dean had a hard time speaking up, trying not to choke on the sadness he was overwhelmed with. Both knew that he’d leave in a few hours, forcing (y/n) to wake in an empty bed, hand searching for the warm body she’d never forget. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Both knew that she wasn’t just thanking him for sticking around for a few hours longer. Both knew that she was thanking him for the love he had elicited deep inside of her. Both knew that she was thanking him for the time he had spent with her, momentarily making her forget about the struggles both were stuck in. 

“I’d do it all over again.” 

You got all the good shit, and I got consequences, I'm cold, I'm lost, I'm ruined, and you go back to Texas

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (12/15) - Part II

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew @tremendousstarlighttragedy @henneseyhoe @serpenttines-library @f1-football-fiend

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

The warehouse stood inconspicuous amidst the arid Palm Springs landscape, its weathered exterior masking the creative pulse within. Inside, the vast space was a stark contrast - state-of-the-art sound equipment lined the walls, and a professional-grade stage dominated one end of the room. Soft, ambient lighting created an atmosphere conducive to artistic expression, while the air conditioning fought a constant battle against the desert heat.

Rorie stood center stage, her voice resonating through the cavernous space as she ran through the chorus of "The Zone."

"I never meant to make you feel alone, a non-chivalrous tone you've used since I got home..."

Ms. Tee, her vocal coach, nodded approvingly from the side, occasionally calling out suggestions. "Remember to support from your diaphragm on that high note, honey!"

Van, the choreographer, moved in sync with Rorie, demonstrating the fluid movements that would accompany the lyrics.

Rorie nodded, sweat beading on her forehead as she repeated the sequence. The knowledge that Beyoncé had once rehearsed in this very space for her legendary Beychella performance added an extra layer of pressure.

From his seat not far from the stage, Lyric's voice piped up. "Go, Mama!" he cheered, his little hands clapping enthusiastically.

Ms. Tee chuckled, shaking her head. "That baby is too cute!"

"And he knows it," Rorie quipped, shooting a wink at her son.

As they moved into the next song, Rorie's mind briefly wandered to the mysterious text she'd received weeks ago. The sender hadn't responded when she'd asked who it was, leaving her with an unsettling sense of curiosity.

After running through the set twice more, Yael called for a lunch break. The team dispersed, grateful for the respite from the intense rehearsal.

Rorie scooped up Lyric, making her way to a table laden with an array of healthy options. As she settled in next to Yael, balancing Lyric on her lap, she couldn't help but marvel at how surreal this all felt.

"So," Yael began, taking a bite of her salad, "have you given any thought to the Mercedes event? They're really pushing for you to be there for the G Wagon unveiling."

Rorie nodded, helping Lyric with his lunch. "Yeah, I think we can make it work. It's after Coachella, right?"

"Car!" Lyric exclaimed, pointing at Yael's phone which displayed an image of the new G Wagon.

Rorie laughed, ruffling his hair. "That's right, baby. It's a big car."

"He's growing up so fast," Yael remarked, smiling at Lyric. "Seems like just yesterday he was saying his first words."

Rorie nodded, a mix of pride and nostalgia washing over her. "I know. It's crazy how quickly they develop. He's stringing two or three words together now. The other day he said 'Mama sing pretty.' Nearly made me cry right there in the kitchen."

Yael chuckled. "Well, he's not wrong. Speaking of which, how are you feeling about the performance? Three songs is a lot, especially with the choreography."

Rorie took a sip of water, considering. "Honestly? I'm nervous as hell. But also excited. I've never been on a stage that big."

"You've got this," Yael assured her. "The rehearsals are going great, and the crowd is going to love you."

As they continued to discuss the logistics of the upcoming events, Rorie felt a familiar mix of excitement and nervousness. Coachella was a big stage, one that could make or break careers. She absentmindedly stroked Lyric's hair as she listened to Yael outline the schedule for the next few days.

"We've got two more full rehearsals here, then we move to the actual festival grounds for a tech run," Yael explained, scrolling through her tablet. "Lil Yachty's team will join us for the final run-through."

Rorie nodded, her mind already racing with all the details she needed to perfect. "What about wardrobe? Have we finalized the looks?"

"Almost," Yael replied. "The stylist wants to do one more fitting tomorrow. She's got some ideas for a quick change between songs."

As they delved into the intricacies of the performance, Lyric began to fidget in Rorie's lap. "Mama, play," he said, pointing towards the small play area they'd set up in the corner of the warehouse.

"Okay, baby. Just for a little bit," Rorie smiled, setting him down. She watched as he toddled off, his little legs carrying him with determined enthusiasm.

"He's handling all this travel and chaos like a champ," Yael observed, following Rorie's gaze.

Rorie sighed, a mix of pride and guilt washing over her. "Yeah, he is. Sometimes I worry it's too much, you know? But he seems to thrive on it."

"He's resilient, just like his parents," Yael reassured her. "Speaking of which, have you heard from Lewis? How's he feeling about the DNF in Australia?"

Rorie's expression softened at the mention of her husband. "He's frustrated, of course. But he's channeling it into preparation for the next race. You know Lewis, always looking forward."

Yael nodded, then added with a hint of sympathy, "It's a shame he'll miss your performance at Coachella though. The scheduling conflict is unfortunate."

"Yeah, it is," Rorie agreed, a touch of disappointment in her voice. "But he's got the GQ Global Creative Awards in New York that weekend. It's a big honor, and I wouldn't want him to miss that." She brightened a bit as she continued, "Besides, the Biebers will be there, and my sister's coming too. They'll make sure Lyric has plenty of support in the crowd."

"That's great," Yael smiled. "It's good to have your people there. And I'm sure Lewis will be watching the livestream, cheering you on from New York."

Rorie nodded, grateful for the support system she had. "Absolutely. We've always made it work, no matter the distance. This is just another one of those times."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Lyric's delighted laughter. He had discovered a small ball and was attempting to bounce it, his coordination not quite matching his enthusiasm.

"Should we get back to it?" Rorie asked, her eyes still on Lyric.

Yael nodded, standing up. "Absolutely. Let's run through the transitions one more time before we call it a day."

As they made their way back to the stage, Rorie felt a renewed sense of purpose. The nerves were still there, but they were overshadowed by excitement and determination. This performance wasn't just about her; it was about showing Lyric that dreams were worth pursuing, no matter the challenges.

With one last glance at her son, happily playing in his own world, Rorie stepped onto the stage. The music began to play, and she lost herself in the rhythm, ready to give it her all. Coachella was waiting, and she was going to make every moment count.

_____________________________________________

Rorie cruised down the Palm Springs street, the desert sun casting long shadows as evening approached. From the backseat, Lyric's voice joined hers in a sweet, if slightly off-key, rendition of Daniel Caesar's "Get You."

As the song faded out, Lyric piped up, "Bwent!"

Rorie chuckled, shaking her head. "Being toxic isn't cute, sonshine." She skipped to Brent Faiyaz's "Clouded," the smooth R&B filling the car as they pulled up to their rental.

Waving to the security guard at the front gate, Rorie parked and unstrapped Lyric from his car seat. She held his hand as they made their way inside, Lyric gleefully jumping up each step to the front door.

Roscoe greeted them enthusiastically, and Rorie let Lyric play with the dog while she headed to the kitchen. After washing her hands, she pulled out pre-made cookie dough from the fridge.

"You want cookies, baby?" she called out.

"Yes, Mama!" came the eager reply.

Rorie scoffed, muttering, "Of course you do," as she arranged the dough on a cookie sheet.

Struck by a sudden craving, she grabbed a popsicle from the freezer. Then, following an odd impulse, she dug into the cabinet for chunky peanut butter. Scooping some onto the popsicle, she savored the unexpected combination of salty and sweet on her tongue as she slid the cookies into the oven, setting it to 380 degrees.

Just then, her phone rang. Seeing Martin's name on the screen, she hesitated before answering.

"Hello?" she said, her voice cautious.

"Rorie, hi," Martin's voice came through, a mix of nervousness and hope. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied, her tone neutral. "What's this about, Martin?"

"I... I wanted to talk to you. About Athena, about everything. How's Lyric doing?"

Rorie paused, conflicted. "He's good," she finally said. "Growing fast."

"That's great," Martin said, his voice softening. "Listen, Rorie, I was hoping we could meet. I know things are complicated, but-"

"I don't know, Martin," Rorie cut in, glancing at the oven timer. "Things are pretty busy right now."

"Please," he pressed. "I want to make things right. I want to be part of your life, of Lyric's life."

Rorie sighed, the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders. "I need time, Martin. This isn't something I can decide on a whim."

"I understand," he said, a note of disappointment in his voice. "But will you at least think about it? For real this time?"

"I'll think about it," Rorie conceded. "But I can't promise anything."

As she hung up, Rorie leaned against the counter, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. The timer dinged, jolting her back to the present. She pulled out the cookies, the sweet aroma filling the kitchen.

"Cookie, Mama?" Lyric's voice called from the living room.

"Almost, baby," Rorie replied, forcing a smile into her voice. "They need to cool first."

As she set the tray on the counter, Rorie took a deep breath. Coachella, Martin, the constant juggle of family and career - it was a lot to handle. But as Lyric's excited chatter drifted in from the other room, she knew she'd find a way to navigate it all. She always did.

The desert night hummed with anticipation as Rorie stood in the wings of the Coachella stage, her heart hammering against her ribs. The bass from the previous set reverberated through her body, but the nausea rolling through her stomach had nothing to do with the vibrations.

"Five minutes, Mrs. Hamilton," a stage manager called out, then paused, studying her face. "Hey, you're looking a bit pale. You okay?"

Rorie nodded, though her complexion said otherwise. "I'm good," she managed, willing her stomach to settle. Somewhere in the VIP section, she knew Lyric was watching with Aaliyah, the Biebers keeping them company.

"You sure?" The stage manager pressed. "You look like you might puke...."

"I said I'm good," Rorie cut in, more sharply than intended. She softened her tone. "Just pre-show jitters."

The opening notes of "The Zone" filled the air, and Lil Yachty's voice boomed across the festival grounds: "Y'all make some noise for my girl, Rorie!"

Taking one final deep breath, Rorie stepped into the lights. The crowd's roar washed over her as she emerged, and suddenly, the nausea didn't matter anymore. This was what she was born to do.

Her voice, clear and strong, cut through the night air. The choreography she'd practiced countless times flowed naturally, her body moving in perfect sync with the music. Each transition, each note, each movement came together in a performance that felt both carefully rehearsed and effortlessly spontaneous.

But as the adrenaline of the first song began to fade, that unsettling queasiness returned, stronger than before. Rorie pushed through, determined not to let it show. She had two more songs to go, and she was going to give this crowd everything she had.

The crowd surged with energy as Rorie finished her planned set, their cheers echoing across the festival grounds. Sweat glistened on her skin under the stage lights.

"One more! One more!" The chant built like a wave.

Rorie exchanged a glance with her band, a slight nod passing between them. As the opening notes of another song filled the air, the crowd's roar grew even louder.

But it was the second encore that would become the night's most talked-about moment. Rorie stepped to the microphone, her breath slightly catching as she spoke.

"Y'all have been amazing tonight," she said, her voice carrying across the field. "I want to share something special with you. A few years ago, my husband and I wrote this song together. Some of you might know him as XNDA…"

The crowd erupted at the mention of Lewis's musical alter ego. A smile played on Rorie's lips as she remembered the late nights in their home studio, the two of them writing and rewriting lyrics, finding the perfect melody to express their love story.

The stage darkened, and then a recorded voicemail played through the speakers: "Hey baby, just wanted to hear your voice…" Lewis's distinctive accent filled the space, intimate and warm.

The soft melody began to build, and Rorie's voice floated over the instrumental, telling their story of love found in the fast lane of life. When Lewis's pre-recorded vocals joined in for the chorus, their voices intertwined in perfect harmony, the chemistry evident even through the playback.

"When the world's moving too fast You're the one thing that lasts Through the curves and the breaks You're the risk I'll always take…"

The crowd swayed, phone lights dotting the darkness like stars. Somewhere in the VIP section, Rorie caught sight of Lyric on Aaliyah's shoulders, his little hands waving in the air.

As their voices rose together for the final chorus, Rorie felt tears prick at her eyes. This song, this moment, was everything - their love, their family, their journey, all wrapped up in melody and rhythm.

The final note hung in the air, and for a moment, there was complete silence. Then the crowd exploded, the cheers almost deafening. Rorie took a final bow, her heart full to bursting.

Walking off stage, she quickly checked her phone. A text from Lewis was waiting:

Killed it, baby. Wish I could've been there. So proud of you.

Rorie smiled, the nausea from earlier completely forgotten in the glow of the night's success. This performance would definitely be one for the books.

Following her triumphant performance, Rorie took a long drink of water before her bodyguards escorted her to the VIP section. Aaliyah immediately engulfed her in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face.

"You were incredible!" Aaliyah sobbed, overcome with pride for her sister.

Rorie's own eyes welled up as Lyric toddled over, clutching a piece of paper in his tiny hands. "Mama!" he exclaimed, holding up his drawing of her on stage. "I love you, Mama," he said, his toddler pronunciation making the words even more precious.

Rorie dropped to her knees, gathering him close as tears spilled down her cheeks. The Biebers joined the group hug, everyone congratulating her on the spectacular show.

After a while, Justin excused himself to prepare for his set with Tems and WizKid. Rorie and Hailey settled into comfortable chairs, falling into easy conversation and shared laughter.

When a waiter approached, Rorie ordered vodka, water, and lime. "What about you, Hails?"

"Just water is fine," Hailey replied.

Rorie shot her friend a questioning look. "When do you ever say no to a drink?" she teased.

Hailey grew bashful, shrugging. "I'm fine with water."

"What's going on, Hails?" Rorie pressed.

Hailey opened her mouth to respond but closed it as the waiter returned with their drinks. Once he left, she gave Rorie a sympathetic look.

"I don't want to talk about it, Ror, especially with what's going on with you and Lew," Hailey explained.

"What do you mean?" Rorie asked, setting down her drink.

Hailey shrugged again. "With you guys going through IVF again… I don't think..."

"It's fine, Hailey. We're fine," Rorie assured her, taking her friend's hands. "It's okay."

"Honestly?" Hailey questioned.

"Yes, Hailey. It's fine."

They stared at each other in silence before Hailey opened her oversized leather jacket slightly, revealing a small rounded belly. "Justin and I are pregnant," she confessed, tears running down her face.

Rorie felt a complex mix of emotions - genuine joy for her friend tinged with a hint of sadness for her own situation. But happiness won out as she pulled Hailey into a tight hug.

"It's still early, though," Hailey said after they separated. "I'm barely ten weeks, but I'm showing really soon for some reason."

"It's a boy," Rorie said instinctively.

"How can you tell?"

"I was showing early with Lyric. It's definitely a boy and he probably has a big head," Rorie joked.

Hailey laughed. "Just like his father."

As their laughter subsided, Hailey grew serious. "I want you to be a godmother. You're an amazing friend and Justin and I love you so much."

"I would love to be the godmother, Hailey. Thank you," Rorie replied, wiping away fresh tears. "Damn, tonight is making me such a sap!" Hailey's smile widened. "But thank you. Seriously. Not only for asking me to be a godmother but sharing this and taking note of everything. I love you so much."

The two friends embraced again, the desert night wrapping around them like a warm blanket, full of joy, hope, and the promise of new beginnings.

The week after Coachella felt like a whirlwind. Rorie scrolled through her phone, taking in the flood of coverage about her performance.

@/MusicInsider: "Rorie's surprise performance of XNDA collab brought Coachella to its knees. The chemistry is undeniable, even through a recording. #PowerCouple"

@/ChartData: "Rorie's Coachella performance garnered over 2M livestream views, highest for a guest appearance this year."

Of course, there were also the less favorable takes:

@/PopCultureTakes: "Sure, she can sing. But is anyone else tired of the Hamilton PR machine? #Coachella"

Rorie rolled her eyes at the last one. Her nausea had finally subsided, and she was grateful to chalk it up to pre-Coachella nerves. With Lewis in Shanghai for his race, she missed him, but they had a packed schedule ahead - the WhatsApp collaboration in New York, Miami Grand Prix, and then the Met Gala. The thought of reuniting made her smile.

Stepping out of her G Wagon onto the black carpet at the Mercedes-Benz G-Class premiere, Rorie was immediately engulfed in camera flashes.

"Mrs. Mercedes! Over here!" "To your left, Rorie!" "Give us that smile, Mrs. Mercedes!"

She couldn't help but laugh at the nickname - an extension of what they called Lewis. As she posed for photos, a familiar figure caught her eye. Miles was making his way down the carpet, pointing at her with an exaggerated gesture. She returned the gesture, and he came bounding over. They posed for several shots together before heading inside, arm in arm.

"I didn't know you were going to be here!" she said as they stopped at the bar.

"Sort of last minute, honestly," Miles revealed. "But look at you, Miss Superstar - that Coachella performance though…"

"How was it?" Rorie asked, genuinely curious.

"Off the fuckin' chain, lil' sis. You did that."

"Thank you," she smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

As Miles and Rorie made their way through the event, they were stopped every few feet by familiar faces. Kendall Jenner pulled Rorie into a warm embrace, gushing about the Coachella performance.

"You absolutely killed it," Kendall beamed. "And that song with Lewis? Everyone's still talking about it."

Before Rorie could respond, Ciara joined them, her megawatt smile lighting up the space. "Girl, when were you going to tell me you were performing again? That was incredible!"

The conversations flowed easily, punctuated by genuine laughter and warm exchanges. Tracee Ellis Ross swept by, wrapping an arm around Rorie's waist as they posed for photos, while Snoh Aalegra complimented her vocal arrangements.

The evening progressed with typical Hollywood glamour - Travis Scott's performance had the crowd energized, the bass reverberating through the space as he commanded the stage. During dinner, Rorie found herself engaged in easy conversation with those around her, the kind of mindless chatter that filled these events.

As the night wound down, Rorie decided to head home early, missing Lyric and feeling the weight of the day settling in her bones. The drive started peacefully enough, the lights of LA streaming past her window as she thought about the upcoming reunion with Lewis.

Then her phone lit up with an unknown number.

Rorie hesitated before answering, but something compelled her to pick up. The moment she heard the voice on the other end, her blood ran cold.

"Rorie—"

"You must have a fucking death wish," Rorie cut in, her voice sharp with anger.

"Please, just hear me out—"

"I'm calling my lawyer," Rorie snapped.

"Wait!" Deja's voice was urgent. "I want to meet in Miami. We need to talk face to face."

"You've lost your rabbit ass mind!" Rorie couldn't believe her ears. After everything - the lawsuit, the leaked information, the media circus - Deja really thought they could just meet? The audacity was mind-blowing. Rorie clenched her jaw, her hand gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles went white. She could almost picture Deja on the other end, probably desperate, maybe even smug, as if she’d thought Rorie would just give in to this little stunt.

Deja doubled down. "I'm not settling until we talk. Face to face."

"I don't give a fuck what you want. We're going to win anyway - you violated my privacy, remember?"

They went back and forth, Deja pleading her case while Rorie's anger mounted. Finally, Deja suggested Rorie bring her lawyer if it made her feel better, but insisted they needed to meet.

"I'll think about it, bitch," Rorie spat before hanging up.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her hard. "Pull over," she managed to tell her driver, who immediately complied.

Rorie barely made it out of the car before emptying the contents of her stomach, her hands braced on her knees.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Hamilton?" the driver asked, concern evident in his voice.

Another wave hit her, and she groaned as a headache began to pulse behind her eyes. "Call my husband, please."

The driver quickly dialed Lewis, putting the phone on speaker just as Rorie retched again.

"Baby, are you okay? You're scaring me!" Lewis's voice rang out.

"It's Deja…" Rorie managed after a moment.

"What about her?"

"I'm going to kill that bitch, Lewis."

Lewis let out an exhausted "Fuck," followed by, "Let me call Julian."

Rorie stayed bent over, the cool night air doing little to settle her churning stomach. This night had definitely taken an unexpected turn, and somehow she knew it was just the beginning of whatever Deja had planned.

The Miami Grand Prix was a spectacle of color, sound, and energy—a vibrant mix of fans, press, and celebrities, all eager to catch a glimpse of the action on the track. Rorie moved through the paddock with an effortless confidence, dressed in a chic Tommy Hilfiger ensemble—a red mini dress paired with a tailored jacket that bore the iconic brand’s colors. As a Tommy Hilfiger ambassador, she was there to represent, but her mind was constantly pulled to her family, to Lyric, who was wide-eyed and curious, soaking in everything around him.

Julian, their lawyer, had been adamant about his involvement from the start. He wasn’t thrilled about the meeting, and honestly, neither was she—but at least they’d agreed that Julian would be there too, ensuring Deja wouldn’t pull any more stunts. When Julian had looked her in the eye and said, "We’re not letting her turn this into another circus," Rorie had felt an odd sense of relief. Knowing he’d be present gave her the peace of mind to enjoy the weekend with Lewis and Lyric.

Rorie’s attention snapped back to the present as she felt a tiny hand tug at her fingers. Lyric was pointing excitedly to the rows of cars lined up, his face lit with pure awe. She bent down to his level, taking in his excitement with a soft smile.

"Vroom! Vroom!"

"Yeah, baby," she murmured, brushing a soft kiss over his braids. "Those are Daddy’s friends’ cars."

"Where Dada?"

Rorie grinned. "He’s around here somewhere."

Just then, as if on cue, she spotted Lewis, looking impossibly focused and handsome in his race suit, his head bent as he spoke with one of his team members. When he looked up and saw them, his face transformed, a wide grin spreading across his features. He lifted a hand in greeting, then broke into an easy jog to close the distance between them.

"There’s Daddy," Rorie murmured to Lyric, moving aside so he could see his father approaching. "Look, sweetheart."

Lewis bent down, scooping Lyric up and spinning him around, making their son laugh with pure joy. Then, Lewis turned to her, his eyes softening as they met hers. "You’re a vision today," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Rorie smiled, feeling her cheeks flush a little. "All part of the ambassador duty," she teased, tugging lightly on the lapel of her jacket.

The three of them shared a quiet moment, standing close amid the bustling paddock. For a while, it was easy to forget about Deja, about the upcoming meeting, about everything that threatened to intrude on this moment. But she could still feel the tension, a low hum of anxiety that sat just below the surface.

Julian’s text from earlier that morning flashed in her mind: Remember, we’re handling this our way. She doesn’t get to make the rules.

It was a reminder she clung to, something that kept her grounded even as she stole another glance at Lewis and Lyric. This weekend, she’d focus on them, on supporting Lewis and creating memories with Lyric. Whatever Deja had to say could wait—she wasn’t about to let that woman spoil the joy of watching her husband race, of seeing her son’s eyes light up in wonder.

But just as she settled into the moment, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Turning around, she was greeted by the sight of KiKi, striding over with her typical swagger, dressed in a sharp, stylish outfit that turned heads as she passed.

Rorie raised her brows, genuinely surprised. "KiKi? What are you doing here?"

KiKi grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Lewis called me in for backup," she said with a shrug, flashing Lewis a knowing smile.

Lewis, still holding Lyric, gave a small, guilty grin. "Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra support this weekend," he said, adjusting Lyric on his hip. "Especially with everything going on."

Rorie couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief. Having KiKi around meant an added layer of support, someone who understood the intricacies of their situation with Deja and who would have her back if things got tense. But she was also wary; KiKi wasn’t exactly known for her subtlety, and Rorie wanted this meeting to be as low-key as possible.

"I don’t know if having you there is the best idea, though," Rorie said, keeping her tone light but firm. "You know how things can get."

KiKi put a hand on her hip, feigning offense. "Girl, please. I can be chill when I need to be," she replied, but the glint in her eyes suggested otherwise.

Rorie sighed, giving her friend a look. "I mean it, Ki. The last thing I want is for this to turn into a showdown."

KiKi held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Promise, I'll keep it cool. I’m just here to have your back. Besides, I’m curious to see what Deja’s got to say for herself."

Rorie gave a reluctant nod, knowing KiKi meant well. She’d always been fiercely protective, and Rorie knew that no matter what, KiKi wouldn’t let anyone disrespect her or her family. Still, she wasn’t entirely sure how Deja would react to seeing KiKi there.

"So, what’s the plan with her anyway?" KiKi asked, lowering her voice slightly. "You really think she’s trying to play nice?"

Rorie bit her lip, glancing over at Lewis, who was now trying to entertain Lyric with exaggerated car sounds. "I don’t know. She claims she wants to talk about boundaries, but I’m not sure I buy it. It feels like another setup."

KiKi snorted. "Wouldn’t put it past her. But hey, at least you’ve got Julian there to keep things on track. And me, if she tries any funny business."

Rorie managed a small smile, grateful for KiKi’s support even if she was apprehensive about the meeting. "Yeah. Julian’s already set some strict ground rules. We’re meeting in a neutral space, and he’s keeping it professional. He won’t let her turn this into another circus."

"Good," KiKi replied, crossing her arms as her gaze turned serious. "Just remember, she doesn’t get to call the shots here. You’re in control."

Rorie took a deep breath, nodding. "Right. I just don’t want her stirring up drama when all I want is to focus on this weekend with my family."

KiKi gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "You’ve got this, Ro. And if she steps out of line? Well, I’ll be there, chillin'... but keeping an eye out."

Rorie laughed, the tension easing slightly as she glanced back at Lewis, who had Lyric balanced on his shoulders now, the little boy giggling as he held onto his father’s head.

"Thanks, Ki. I appreciate you being here," Rorie said softly.

KiKi smirked. "Girl, you know I’d be here even if you didn’t want me to. Now, let’s enjoy the day and not let her mess with our vibe. Besides, your little one looks like he’s having the time of his life."

After watching Lewis' Free Practice, Rorie found herself alongside Mick Schumacher at the Tommy Hilfiger pop-up store in the paddock. Their easy rapport made the ambassador duties feel less like work and more like hanging out with a friend.

"The new collection's fire," Mick said, adjusting the collar of his Tommy polo. "But I think Lyric's stealing the show."

He wasn't wrong. Lyric, now dressed in a miniature version of the collection, was charming everyone who passed by.

After wrapping up the promotional duties, Rorie made her way to watch the F1 Academy practice sessions with Susie Wolff. The sight of female drivers commanding their machines around the track filled her with pride.

"It's amazing to see how far we've come," Susie remarked, her Scottish accent warm with emotion. "These girls are the future."

Lyric, perched on Rorie's hip, pointed excitedly at the cars. "Fast! Mama, fast!"

"That's right, baby. They're very fast," Rorie agreed, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Later, they ran into Kevin Magnussen near the garages. Lyric immediately perked up, looking around expectantly.

"L'waura?" he asked, his little face scrunching up in confusion when he didn't spot his friend.

Kevin laughed warmly. "She's with Mommy today, but we can FaceTime her later. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" Lyric clapped his hands excitedly.

The lightness of the afternoon stood in stark contrast to what awaited Rorie that evening with Deja. She wanted nothing more than to end whatever bullshit Deja was on, but she knew that not everything will be easy coming from her.

____________________________________________________

Later that evening, away from the excitement of the track, Rorie arrived at the offices of Ocasio & Associates, one of Julian's trusted colleagues in Miami. The sleek high-rise office space felt appropriately neutral and formal for what was about to unfold.

Julian was already there, reviewing documents when Rorie walked in with KiKi. They settled into the conference room, its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the Miami skyline at dusk.

When Deja walked in with her lawyer, her face immediately darkened at the sight of KiKi. "What is she doing here?"

"I'm here for moral support, honey," KiKi drawled, her tone deceptively sweet.

Julian cleared his throat. "Let's focus on why we're here."

What followed was an hour of increasingly tense discussion. Deja insisted on rehashing her version of events from All-Star Weekend 2017, her voice growing more animated as she described what she claimed was a meaningful connection with Lewis.

"We had something real," Deja insisted, leaning forward in her chair. "Before she came along—"

"You're delusional," Rorie cut in, her patience finally snapping. "You had a drunken hookup - if that even happened - and now you're trying to rewrite history."

"You don't know what—"

"No, you don't know what you're talking about," Rorie stood up, her voice firm and final. "Julian, we're done here. No more settlement talks. Take her ass to court and drag her to fucking filth."

As they left the office building, KiKi fell into step beside her. "You good?"

Rorie nodded, her jaw set with determination. "I'm done playing nice. She wants to live in her fantasy world? Fine. But she's about to learn what reality feels like."

As they walked down the quiet Miami street, the humid evening air thick around them, Rorie suddenly felt her stomach lurch. Without warning, she lurched toward a nearby trash can, barely making it before emptying the contents of her stomach.

"Rorie!" Julian rushed out after them, producing a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He handed it to her as she straightened up, her hand trembling slightly as she wiped her mouth.

KiKi was at her side instantly, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Girl, are you okay? What's going on?"

Rorie took a deep breath, trying to settle her churning stomach. "I'm fine," she managed. "Just stress, I think. This whole situation with Deja…"

"Nah, you need to calm down," KiKi said firmly, keeping her hand on Rorie's back. "This isn't worth getting sick over. Remember that wine bar we used to hit up when I lived down here? The one with the amazing cheese plates?"

Despite her queasy stomach, Rorie felt a small smile tugging at her lips. "God, that sounds perfect right now."

"Then let's go," KiKi decided, already steering Rorie toward the street to hail a car. "Julian, you good?"

Julian nodded, still looking concerned. "Call me if you need anything. And Rorie? Try not to worry about Deja. We've got this handled."

As they climbed into the car, Rorie leaned back against the cool leather seats, grateful for KiKi's steady presence beside her. Maybe what she needed right now wasn't more strategy sessions or legal talks. Maybe what she needed was just this - a night with her best friend, some good wine, and a chance to remember who she was beyond all the drama.

"Thanks, Ki," she said softly as the car pulled away from the curb.

KiKi squeezed her hand. "Always got your back, girl. Always."

TO BE CONTINUED....

[97ify]

♡ . . .⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ROCKSTAR!CHOSO! ❜

CHOSO KAMO x FEM READER ✶ .ᐟ

❝ choso kamo as your rockstar boyfriend. ❞

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀˖ ࣪⭑

❪⠀ᥫ᭡⠀❫ featuring : choso kamo !

❪⠀ᥫ᭡⠀❫ contents : MDNI. fluff . suggestive !

❪⠀ᥫ᭡⠀❫ requested by : @chosoguapo !

❪⠀ᥫ᭡⠀❫ song playing : slow down — chase atlantic !

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who makes sure that you're front and center at every single one of his gigs, never failing to stare at you the entire time, or mentioning the fact that you're there to the audience.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO that will practice his songs at your apartment and ask for your opinion, completely entranced by anything and everything you have to offer, even if it's constructive criticism, he makes sure to listen to every word.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who enjoys helping you learn how to play the electric guitar if you don't know how. the glint that flickers in your eyes lighting up his entire day.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO that shows you off anywhere you two go. you could be going to the store and he'd somehow make it all about you by mentioning to the fans that bombard you about how stunning you look that day, wearing whatever outfit your heart desired.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO is like the gomez to your morticia addams, quite literally kissing the very ground you walk on simply because he'd do anything, and i mean anything, for you. whatever you wanted, he'd have it before you could even ask because he'd immediately know exactly what you want.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who is a sub all the way, allowing you to take the lead in bed all the time. he goes absolutely insane for your dom side, whimpering and begging for you to do whatever you pleased with him, as long as you felt good he didn't care.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who will gladly let you ride his face and pull on his man buns any day, enjoying how you look towering over him.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO that will sneak you into any conversation he’s having with anyone. it doesn’t matter the topic, he’ll bring you up regardless just to do so.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO is the light of your life, making sure that at the end of the day you are happy, no matter what.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who pays attention to little details about things you do. you love cooking? he’ll buy you your favorite chef’s cook book. you like sewing? he’ll make sure you’re fully stocked in all of the materials you need.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who centers every last one of his songs about you. whether it be your love, face, personality, body, intimacy. all of his lyricism comes from just the thought of you.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO that loves when you ride him like you own him (which you basically do /hj) he absolutely dies for gripping your waist, nails curling into your skin from how great you make him feel.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO who marks you up to make sure everyone and anyone that approaches you knows who you’re dating, even if you find it slightly embarrassing.

♡♥ ROCKSTAR!CHOSO that whimpers and moans just for you, simply because you make him feel that good.

97IFY :: if you would like a part two, please do not be shy to ask through my inbox! i'm always happy to accept requests !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

$$. 000 ll header edit creds. @//bajislv on tt.

← back to jjk masterlist — 97IFY. do not steal my work. all rights reserved. likes and reblogs appreciated !!