#i was going to save this and post it on my birthday on monday but i want validation for it now

[honkytonk-hangman]

How It's Done – Oneshot Version

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Originally posted by unicornships

Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD

Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3

Words: 11.6k!

“Well, I’ll be damned…”

You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.

It makes your teeth grind.

It makes your face hot.

“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.

You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.

You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…

You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.

“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.

“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.

Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.

You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.

You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.

“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.

Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.

“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.

“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.

“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.

“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.

“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.

“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.

Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.

Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.

You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.

Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.

You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.

Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.

“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.

“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 

“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.

“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.

“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.

“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.

“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.

You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.

“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.

“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.

“Huh. Figures.”

-

Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.

And yet.

When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.

As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.

You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.

“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.

“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.

You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.

You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.

In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.

-

“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.

Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.

Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.

You blink at each other.

“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.

“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.

“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”

Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.

Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.

Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.

“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.

“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.

“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.

Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.

“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”

“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.

And besides, you weren’t blind.

Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.

He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.

Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.

You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.

Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.

He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.

You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.

“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”

“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.

“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.

“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.

“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.

“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.

“Jake.” he corrects you.

You pause.

Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.

“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.

“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.

“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.

“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”

“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.

“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.

“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.

For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.

You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.

“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.

“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.

“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.

“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.

You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.

And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.

“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.

“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”

“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.

You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.

Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.

You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.

“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.

“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.

-

“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.

Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.

“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.

“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.

“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.

“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.

“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.

“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.

“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.

“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.

You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.

“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.

“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.

You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.

“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”

“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.

“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.

Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.

“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.

“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.

“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.

It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.

You turn away from him, shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”

Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.

“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.

“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”

By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.

When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.

Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.

“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.

Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.

“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”

-

You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.

“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.

“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.

Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.

“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”

“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.

You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.

“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.

“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.

“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.

She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.

You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.

“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.

“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”

Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.

You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.

It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.

“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.

“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.

“Huh?”

Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.

“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”

You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.

She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.

You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.

“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”

You quickly cut her off.

“I’m not saying anything to him!”

At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.

“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”

You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.

-

You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.

Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.

“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers

Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.

“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.

You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.

In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.

It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.

“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.

“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.

This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.

You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow

Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.

“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.

You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.

“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.

“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.

Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.

“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.

“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.

“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.

“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.

“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”

The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.

“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.

You let out a little sigh.

“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”

“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”

He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.

After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.

He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.

“What do you want to do, honey?”

You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.

“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.

“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.

“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.

“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.

“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”

You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.

“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”

“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”

“But…?” Jake prompts.

“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.

“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.

“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”

“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.

“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.

“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.

“Yeah…”

“And you just want me to keep you company?”

You nod, and clear your throat.

“Yeah.”

Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.

“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.

Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.

“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.

You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.

His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.

You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.

“Can I?”

You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.

“Make yourself comfortable!”

–

You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.

Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.

“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.

“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.

“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.

It rings less than once before it connects.

“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.

“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”

You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.

Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.

The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.

“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.

“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.

“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.

Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.

“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.

“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”

At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.

When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.

He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.

The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.

Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.

“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.

“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.

Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.

“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.

“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.

“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.

“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.

Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.

“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you home baby.”

–

You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.

His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.

“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.

“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”

You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.

He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.

One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.

One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.

Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.

“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.

“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.

“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.

“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.

After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.

“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.

“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.

“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.

The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.

“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.

Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.

“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.

You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.

“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.

Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”

[finnsbubblegum]

I Don’t Deserve You {Part 2} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), stalking, sexual assault attempt (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Words count: 2.9k 

A/N: This is part 2 for I Don’t Deserve You Part 1. Thank you to everyone who read my fanfic! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

It was a usual Monday after the night Joel saved you from Josh. You woke up early and got ready to work and meet your students. 

“Good morning, kids! How was your weekend?” You asked the students with a soft tone.

“I watched a movie with my dad last night!” A girl shouted.

“It was my birthday yesterday!” Another girl shouted.

They were active and you were always happy to listen to their stories. Their stories were always interesting to you. You loved how children were so pure and innocent. 

“Oh really? Well, happy birthday to you! Why don’t we all sing happy birthday to Samantha?” 

You invited the other students to sing the Happy Birthday song for Samantha. Each of the students followed your clap and sang the Happy Birthday song together. The day went and it was already time for the class to be dismissed. 

“Okay everyone! Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!”

Everyone was packing their bags hurriedly and you glanced at the door. The door had a rectangle transparent glass and you saw Joel. When he caught your eye, he quickly hid. You found him so cute and felt butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were in your teenage years all over again. You shook your head and smiled. The kids were starting to leave one by one and you began to pack your stuff on the table. 

“I saw you there Joel.” You teased Joel who was still hiding.

“Uhm.. Sorry.” He slowly walked inside the class and cleared his throat.

“You caught me.” He smiled shyly and put his hand on the nape of his neck.

“Are you stalking me now?” You joked.

“Absolutely not. I was just around and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re teaching the kids. Hope you didn’t teach them curse words.” He joked remembering his last joke at the bar that was cut off by Josh’s appearance.

“Of course not.” You scoffed and slightly hit his chest. 

“Are you heading home now?” Joel put his hands on his waist.

“Yes, all the kids have gone home so I should go home now.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Joel gestured a movement from his hands as if he was asking you to follow him.

“Sure. Thank you.” You grabbed your purse and jacket.

Joel wasn’t actually around the area. He was not patrolling that day and couldn’t keep thinking about last night. He was worried that Josh might come to you and bother you again. After thinking about it for a few hours, he decided to visit you at school and walk you home. He thought that it was the least thing he could do to protect you. Without realizing it, he was starting to have feelings towards you. 

“Do you want to come in and have dinner with me tonight? I can cook something for us.” You hoped Joel would say yes before you got in your house.

“Sure. Ellie is making friends now so she often stays out late.” 

“Great. Come in.” You welcomed Joel.

You hung your jacket and Joel did the same. 

“Please make yourself at home while I cook dinner.” You smiled at Joel.

Joel nodded and sat on the sofa in your living room. You walked to your kitchen, opened your fridge and took out some ingredients. 

“Can I help you with somethin’?” Joel suddenly stood up and walked towards you.

“No, no. I’m good. Let me serve you dinner tonight.” Joel was your guest so you wanted to serve him.

“Okay.” Joel walked away and started to look around your house.

“You have a lot of books.” Joel stopped at your bookshelf.

“Oh, yes. I love to read. I’m a teacher.” You laughed.

“Right.” Joel chuckled.

After a few moments of banter while you were preparing dinner, you were finally done.

“Dinner’s ready.” You called for Joel.

He looked back from the sofa and hurried his way to the dining table.

“Smells good.” He sniffed.

You both started eating. You were nervous because you were scared Joel might not like your cooking. And your legs were shaking under the table.

“Hmm.. It’s delicious. Thank you.” Joel praised your food.

“Phew.. I was scared you didn’t like it.” You sighed.

“Are you kidding? This is the best meal I’ve ever had in the past 20 years.” He chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of your cooking.

“Thank you, Joel. You’re really sweet.” You were touched hearing his words.

The two of you had conversations as you finished your dinner. 

“Let me wash the dishes. You cooked so I will wash the dishes.” Joel offered.

“Sure.” You gave your dishes to Joel.

You watched him from behind and got lost in your fantasy. You were imagining a life where you and Joel lived under the same roof as family. And you were the wife making dinner for your husband when he got off from work. He looked dashing from behind and his shoulder was broad. You imagined how it would feel kissing him. But you didn’t want to rush so you had to hold yourself. You hit your head and got back to reality. 

“Done.” Joel wiped his hands with a towel.

“Thank you, Joel. For washing the dishes.” 

“It’s nothin’. You cooked for me so it’s fair if I wash the dishes.” He shook his head.

You wondered how a man like him treated you so nice. You kept wondering why he didn’t come into your life sooner. Then you remembered why. You were half his age. But you didn’t care. As long as he made you happy, you didn’t care about anything.

You and Joel spent a few hours hanging out at your house then it was time for him to go home.

“I should probably head home.” Joel looked at you.

“Yeah, sure. Thank you for walking me home today.”

“Anytime. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” Joel thanked you.

You chuckled as you walked him to your door and grabbed his jacket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” You waved your hand goodbye to Joel.

The next day, Joel came and picked you up from work. He walked you home and had dinner with you for the second day, third day, fourth day, and it went on and on. Except when it was his turn to go on patrol, he couldn’t walk you home. But he would always tell you in advance if he couldn’t walk you home. 

Joel and you often hung out in the city as well. Since you got close with Joel, Josh had never shown up. He just stared at you from afar but he had never approached you. You even had less guys flirting with you. As time went by, people were starting to recognize your relationship with him. People were making rumors and talking about you and Joel. They were talking about how far your age gap was and how Joel didn’t deserve you. He was old and ruthless but you were young and kind. You didn’t care what anyone said. Joel had never hurt you, he was always respectful, he was definitely not like what other people said. As a matter of fact, Joel had never been kind to anyone but you. 

Your feelings towards Joel have grown deeper and deeper. On the other side, you had no idea how Joel felt towards you. Did he like you or did he just see you as a kid who needed protection? But you didn’t want this to end so you kept your feelings hidden until it was 2 months since you and Joel spent time together. You couldn’t hold your feelings hidden any longer.

It was another usual dinner with Joel. You watched him as he was walking outside your front porch. 

“Joel.” You stopped him before he walked his way home.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows and looked back.

“Can I ask you something?” You wiped your sweaty hands to your jeans.

“Sure. What is it?” He walked his way back to your porch where you were standing, resting his hands on the handrail.

“What are we, Joel? I mean - I - I like you, Joel.” You confessed your feelings to Joel and stepped closer to him.

Instead of telling you the way he felt about you, he took a step back. 

“No.” His voice was really low, he shook his head and looked down.

Your eyes were getting blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Joel quickly walked away from you.

“Joel.. Please..” You tried to stop him but you thought it was better to stay.

You were heartbroken. You went to your bedroom, covered your face with your pillow and cried all night.

On his way home, Joel was also heartbroken. He couldn’t see you cry like that, especially because of him. He regretted leaving you hanging like that. He wished he could hug you and comfort you. But he knew he shouldn’t. He had heard the rumors and he agreed to what people were saying. He regretted treating you nice if it would end up breaking your heart. He shouldn’t give you hope in the first place. Since then, Joel started avoiding you. He didn’t walk you home and didn’t have dinner with you. You and Joel ended just like that.

You hadn’t seen Joel since. Your days went so slow. Days felt weeks, weeks felt months, months felt years. It has been a month and you hated this feeling. You wanted closure so you decided to find Joel. You walked to his house and knocked on his door.

“Hi!” It was Ellie.

“Uhm.. Hi! Is Joel home?” You asked Ellie.

“Yeah! Joel! Someone’s here looking for you!” Ellie shouted and called Joel.

Joel made his way down stairs and his eyes widened when he saw you at his front door.

“We need to talk, please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel gestured to Ellie to go, he closed the door and invited you to sit on the patio chairs at his front porch.

You sat with him but he didn’t say anything. So you started the conversation.

“Did I do something wrong, Joel?” You tried to find what was wrong to fix your relationship with him.

“No.” He replied coldly.

“It’s okay. Just tell me, Joel. Let me fix us.” You begged him.

“It’s not you. It’s me.” Joel wanted the best for you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. What do you mean?” You were confused.

“I know you heard about the rumors. They were right. I don’t deserve you. I’m old. I’ve done bad things. I’ve killed people. And you’re young, beautiful…inside out, kind, perfect and everythin’. You deserve someone way better than me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started anythin’ with you. I realized I was crossin’ the line, that's why it’s better that I stopped before I hurt you more.” Joel put his elbow on his knees as he explained to you.

“That’s not right. I don’t care what people say, Joel. You treated me so nice. You’ve never hurt me. You protect me, Joel.” You shook your head in denial.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve you.” Joel started to raise his voice.

“No, Joel. Please. Give me a chance. I can’t live without you. Please. Give us a chance.” You cried as you begged him.

Joel wanted to cry but he held it. He didn’t want to look weak. Instead he stood up and asked you to leave. 

“I promise I won’t see you again.” Joel’s words made your heart even wretched.

“Joel, please..don’t..Can you at least give me a hug as a goodbye? Please?” You grabbed his wrist.

Joel wanted to hug you. He really did. But it would just make him change his mind. If he hugged you, he might not be able to let you go. So he let go of your hand and walked inside his house. You cried so loud and kneeled in front of his door. Hoping for Joel to come out and change his mind, but a few hours went by and he didn’t appear. You were getting hopeless so you decided to go home. You cried on your walk and you didn’t realize someone was following you. You grabbed your keys and went inside your house. Someone was holding your door before you closed it. 

“Joel?” You hoped Joel was following you home.

“Nuh-uh baby. It’s me. Josh.” Josh smirked.

You gasped and started to shake. 

“Wh-what are you do-doing?” Josh could hear you were scared.

“I told you that old man is no good, baby. You should have been with me in the first place. I wouldn’t make you cry. I’m way better than him. That old man knows it. He really doesn’t deserve you. But I deserve you.” It turned out that Josh had been stalking you and he was eavesdropping your conversation with Joel.

“No. Josh. Please get out of my house.” You tried to act like you were not scared but he could see you were shaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re mine now.” Josh claimed you as his because he knew Joel wouldn’t be there to protect you from him anymore.

“No, please go.” You walked backwards as he slowly walked towards you.

On the other side, Joel kept thinking about what he had said to you. He knew it was for the best but somehow he felt something weird in his heart. He guessed maybe he should have hugged you goodbye. He didn’t hear your cries anymore so he decided to walk to your house. He saw your door was left open and he heard a loud thud and your scream. Joel’s heart was beating faster as he rushed inside your house.

“Stay still!” Josh was on top of you, holding your hands, trying to take off your pants.

“Josh, stop it!” You tried to push Josh away but he was too heavy.

Joel’s eyes widened as he was shocked to see what was happening. He ran towards you, grabbed Josh from behind and threw him aside. Josh was hurting laying on the floor. Joel’s eyes locked on Josh and punched him over and over again. Josh’s face was full of blood and he was begging for Joel to stop. 

“Don’t you ever touch her again! You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break your arm!” Joel lifted Josh by his collar and yelled at his face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Josh begged Joel for his life.

“Now get the fuck out of this house and never show your face again!” Joel pointed his finger towards the door as he raised his voice again.

Joel closed the door after Josh crawled his way out of your house. You were in shock, crying, hyperventilating, shaking, and holding your ripped shirt to cover yourself. You had never seen Joel like this before. He was scary when he was angry just like what other people in the town talked about.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel’s voice was different from seconds ago.

He sounded very soft. He took off his jacket and put it on you. 

“I got you, babygirl. I got you.” He looked at you with worried eyes. (TLOU ep 8 reference 😘)

He wiped your tears with his thumb and hugged you. His hands rubbed your back in circles until your breathing was normal again. 

“Can you stand?” He asked you.

You nodded and guided him to your bedroom. He kept holding your arm, holding your weight as you walked. You opened your closet to get new clothes and changed into a new one. Joel faced the wall as you changed your clothes. He was always respectful to you. Not like the other guys you had met.

“Here.” You gave Joel his jacket back.

“Do you want me to stay?” He thought he would stay for the night to make sure you were safe.

“Will you?” You asked Joel with your puppy eyes as you sat on the bed.

“Of course, darlin’. I don’t want Josh to come here again and hurt you.” Joel walked to your bedroom door.

“Where are you going? I thought you’re staying.” You were confused.

“I am. I’m sleepin’ on the couch.” 

You chuckled. Everytime he did or said something, you fell in love with him more.

“Joel, stay here.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed.

“No. I shouldn’t.” He still kept his chivalry.

“Joel, please. I don’t think I can sleep if you’re not next to me. I feel safe when I’m with you. Please.” You begged Joel.

“Okay.” Joel shyly moved his way to your bed and laid beside you.

You moved closer to him, put your head on his chest, and rested your hands on his stomach. You could hear his heart beating faster and his body was stiff because of your movements. Joel took a deep breath and put his arms around you. He rubbed your back in circles.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve you. But can I get that chance for our relationship? Give me a chance to be better for you?” He rested his chin on your head.

“You should stop being insecure, Joel. You’re the best man I’ve ever met. All the guys who flirted with me.. They weren't like you. I know for a fact they only want to get in my pants. But you’re different. Am I right?” You caressed his chest.

“No. You’re wrong.” You were shocked by his joke and raised your head to face him.

“I’m joking. Relax.” He laughed.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You put your head back to his chest and hit his chest.

“Oh! You’re bleeding! We need to get your fist cleaned up!” You took his hands worriedly.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve been worse.” Joel chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Okay, then.” You kissed his bleeding fist that saved you from Josh. 

The two of you spent the night cuddling, talking and getting to know each other. Joel told you about his past, Sarah, and Ellie as you drift into your sleep. 

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Movin’ On Up

Plot: Y/n receives some surprise visitors on moving day, and Richmond suffers a shocking blow to their lineup.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: I really don’t know how I’m managing to crank these out so fast. Maybe shorter chapters? Anyway, this one was fun. We’re getting into the meat of the story, so hold onto your butts, and enjoy!!

(Forgive any typos, I wrote the bulk of this one at midnight 🌙)

——————

If there was a magical force at play in Richmond, it had made Y/n its latest target.

Not only had she found the perfect apartment, she’d toured it, signed the lease and booked movers in the same week. In all her post-university years, she’d never seen real estate move quicker.

Y/n wandered the flat, directing the men and whatever piece of furniture they were holding to its corresponding room.

A knock sounded from the stairs.

“Oh, the dresser can go to-“ Y/n spun around to help guide the mover she’d just seen downstairs, only to find the last person she expected.

“Hey, there, neighbor,” Ted greeted, standing at the top of the steps.

Y/n quickly plastered on her Monday-Friday grin, “Ted. What are you…how did you…?”

“Well, you said you were movin’ into your new place this weekend,” Ted hopped a step inside the apartment to let one of the movers pass by, “Took a guess that the van that came through this morning was probably yours.”

Y/n tried to laugh off the intrusion. The safety of living thirty minutes away was long gone…

“Brought you a little ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift,” Ted held up a little pink box and set it on Y/n’s kitchen counter. It was the same one that he dropped on Rebecca’s desk each morning.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied while pointing one of the movers in the direction of her bedroom.

Ted stuck his hands in his pockets and took a look around the living room. He let out a whistle, “I wish you’d’ve told us you were movin’ in sooner. Coaches and the boys coulda saved you some money, get you settled ourselves.”

That was exactly why she hadn’t told anyone she was moving until the day before. She knew Ted would have assembled the Greyhounds and she would have had 15+ footballers funneling in and out of her apartment, invading the little bubble she had left.

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna inconvenience you guys,” Y/n replied, watching Ted as he maneuvered around the boxes, “Especially with the match tomorrow.”

Ted made a raspberry, “Pish posh, Oshkosh. Woulda been happy to help. Hey,” Ted swirled a finger toward the ceiling, “This place got A/C?”

Y/n nodded.

“Whew,” Ted exhaled, “I gotta tell you, biggest surprise comin’ over here.”

“You get used to it,” Y/n replied, a deep double meaning to her words.

“What about you? What was the biggest shock for you, movin’ here?”

Y/n thought back to when she was eighteen, fresh out of high school and starting a brand new life in another country. Even if it had only been a few years, it felt like a decade ago.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “Probably the difference in English. Chips versus fries, that sort of thing.”

“Man, I still slip up,” Ted said, “Took me months to get the football lingo down.”

“I still call the pitch a field sometimes,” Y/n admitted, settling on one of her barstools.

“Well, now I don’t feel so bad,” Ted chuckled as he came to sit across from Y/n, “Hey, what’s the thing you miss most from home? Just a little thing, y’know?”

Y/n sighed, thinking about the region-specific foods she couldn’t find in the international section of the market or the channels missing from her television. Truth be told, there wasn’t anything she missed so much it could be considered missing.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

“When was the last time you went back?” Ted asked.

“Uh…” Y/n traced back the list of holidays, “My sister’s birthday…two years ago?”

Ted whistled once more, “That’s a long time. Bet your folks miss you.”

On cue, Y/n’s muscles tensed. Her smile returned to conceal her discomfort. “My sister visits,” she said, “Every year.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Ted cooed, “For me, it’s gotta be good barbecue. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they do food dang well over here, but I miss a good southern BBQ, y’know?”

“I actually do,” Y/n admitted with a small laugh, “4th of July’s always weird.”

Ted smacked a hand against the counter. “Thank you,” he said loudly, “Last year, we had a game. Felt like Beard and I were betrayin’ our ancestors or somethin’.”

Y/n chuckled, Ted struck her as someone who went all out for Independence Day.

“Hey, truth time,” Ted continued, the humor draining from his face, “Yea or nay on tea?”

Y/n shrugged, “I like it.”

“Dang it,” Ted bobbed his head, “Beard, you…us ex-pats keep droppin’ like flies.”

“It takes some adjusting, I’ll admit that,” Y/n raised a finger, “Not exactly a frappachino.”

“Mm-mm,” Ted shook his head, “I have tried and tried with that tree piss. Warmth ain’t goin’ anywhere north on that one.”

Y/n snorted a little, imagining what that might look like, Ted sipping on earl grey.

One of the movers asked Y/n where she wanted a bookcase and she gave him directions. For once, Ted sensed the moment.

“Well, I’ll get outta your hair,” he held up his hands and hopped off the barstool, “But I’m just down the street so you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger.”

“Good to know,” Y/n watched Ted walk away, “Ted?”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, “Hmm?”

While Ted was still a lot, after all her years spent as the foreigner, it was almost…nice to talk to someone from home. Someone she didn’t need to explain her references to or rearrange her vocabulary for.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, quickly concealing the truth of her gratitude, “For the biscuits.”

“Anytime,” Ted saluted before heading on his way.

Y/n let out a loud sigh once she was sure he was gone. She wandered back over to the counter and opened the pink box, finding the signature biscuits Rebecca raved about. Out of curiosity, she broke off a bite and ate it.

“Shit,” she mumbled, they were better than anything she’d ever found in any of London’s cafés.

Despite his line-crossing, Ted was good-natured. He had a heart of gold and tried to make sure everyone he encountered felt like they had one too. Y/n could call it tolerance or simply learning to deal with him, but deep down, Ted’s efforts were starting to poke and prod a little harder at her walls.

—————————

That evening, after the movers had finished and Y/n had gotten the basics unpacked, she started on the non-essentials. She was stacking dishes when the doorbell rang.

Y/n was perturbed as she descended her stairs, there were exactly three people who had her new address, the absolute minimum. Lisa, who handled payroll at the club, Ted, who’d stumbled upon her apartment by sheer luck, and her sister.

Looking through the peephole, Y/n sighed. She’d forgotten there was a fourth on the list.

Jamie smiled smugly as Y/n opened the door, “You went with mine.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I didn’t ‘go with yours.’ I was the one who found it, you just deemed it worthy.”

“And I was right,” Jamie stuck his neck out and lifted off his heels.

She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing, but Jamie was completely right. The night of the West Ham match, the two of them had stayed at the Crown and Anchor till Mae kicked them out, pouring over each apartment until they’d eliminated 75% of the stack. The one Y/n had settled on was also the one that Jamie had decided was the best.

Jamie held up a plastic takeaway bag, “Come bearin’ sustenance.”

Not only was Y/n tired, she didn’t want to entertain anybody else from work. But, starving as she was, she was in no position to turn down free food.

“Entry permitted,” she snatched the bag from him, “Barely.”

Jamie took an exaggerated step over the seal and passed Y/n. They���d gotten to know each other better over the last few weeks, Jamie stopping Y/n anytime he saw her to ask about the apartment tours she was taking on the weekends. They’d gotten many laughs out of the stories of Y/n going against Jamie’s advice and visiting the properties that did indeed turn out to be crap.

In another world, they’d almost consider each other friends.

Upstairs, Jamie swung his arms as he took in the living room, “Not bad.”

“‘Not bad?’” Y/n turned around from where she stood in the adjoining kitchen, “You pick this place out and then it’s just ‘not bad?’”

Jamie cackled, spinning on his heel and pointing a finger at Y/n. “That’s an admission.”

Y/n internally cringed, her sharp edge was dulled by exhaustion. She could usually keep up with Jamie. “If you want any of this,” she unpacked the styrofoam container of kebabs, “You’ll stay on my good side.”

“Can’t have any,” Jamie replied, coming to lean on the bar, “Diet, ‘member?”

Y/n shook her head, popping a stray piece of chicken into her mouth. “I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

“You know why,” Jamie crossed his arms on the counter, “Gotta get back to being the best.”

“Yeah, but is being better than Zava worth missing out on things like food and sleep?” Y/n asked. She could appreciate Jamie’s drive, but this dedication seemed overboard.

“It’ll be worth it,” Jamie stated.

Y/n decided to play the asshole, sliding across the kitchen to wave the kebab box under Jamie’s nose. She watched his willpower waver ever so fleetingly.

Jamie glared up at her, “You’re evil.”

Y/n snickered as she went back to her spot, stealing a bite before going back to unpacking. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Roy?”

“Night before a match, I’m off,” Jamie swung around the bar to the kitchen.

“So shouldn’t you be resting?” Y/n asked as she un-bubble wrapped a stack of plates.

“I will,” Jamie shrugged, bending over to peel the tape off a box.

Y/n glanced over, watching as Jamie began to unpack various glasses. He didn’t offer, he didn’t ask, just went about it as if it were his business. It was slightly intrusive…and also kind.

Jamie Tartt, Y/n had come to learn, was nothing and everything like what she’d thought he’d be. He had more depth than he let onto and he’d shown a side of it by trying to help her find a place. And though she knew the Zava battle was a personal thing for him, she also knew how much Jamie cared about his team. He wanted to be at his best for them just as much as he did for himself.

Unlike Keeley, who announced her efforts to get Y/n to crack at every turn, or Ted, who went overboard, Jamie hadn’t tried to enter into Y/n’s life. He had simply occurred.

“Do you get nervous?” Y/n asked out of pure curiosity, “Before games?”

“Not really. I mean,” Jamie answered, lining up coffee mugs in a cupboard, “Sometimes. Depends.”

Y/n stretched on her toes to put away china she never used, “On?”

“I dunno,” Jamie replied, a particular trigger or two popping up, “Lots of things.”

“So what about tomorrow?” Y/n continued.

Any slip Jamie’s mind had made was caught with quick footing. “Nah,” he said confidently, “Nah, we got that.”

“Well, good,” Y/n exhaled, setting the empty box on the floor, “It’d be nice to get a win. And hey, if it doesn’t work out and you’re forced to retire after this season, I’m sure the reality tv world is still thriving with opportunities.”

Jamie managed to grimace while smiling, “How the fuck did you find out about that?”

“You thought the PR department wouldn’t know about that?” Y/n strode past him to get another box, “I also live in England.”

“You at least vote for me?” Jamie asked, a playful lilt to his tone.

Y/n hoisted another box of kitchenware into her arms and balanced it on her knee. “Yep, you caught me,” she sarcastically grunted, “I have a weakness for crap tv featuring mediocre footballers.”

Jamie set down the mug in his hand with a particular harshness. Mediocre footballer. “Now, hang on-“ he began.

“Less talking, more working,” Y/n cut him off, she stopped to check out the cupboard he was finishing. “That’s also not where they go.”

“What?”

“The mugs,” Y/n gestured to where her coffee maker was, “Disrupts the flow if they’re all the way over there.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, only playful annoyance accompanying. “God forbid we disturb the flow,” he lamented, grabbing a mug in each hand and heading to the correct cabinet.

They unpacked in comfortable silence a minute more before Y/n decided it didn’t matter if Jamie wasn’t nervous about the match. They needed all the encouragement they could get.

“It’ll happen tomorrow,” she said, referring to their recent losses.

Regardless of whether he was hiding any feelings or if they’d pop out the moment he stepped on the pitch, Jamie stopped what he was doing to absorb the kind words. Y/n was a recent addition to his life, certainly an unexpected one, but she felt…safe. Like even if they didn’t know anything about each other past their mutual taste in real estate, he didn’t have to act so much around her.

“Thanks,” he replied, making effort to meet her eyes.

Y/n gave a small smile, “It will.”

—————————

It didn’t.

Over the next month, Richmond’s lack of luck turned to a 7-game losing streak. Some weeks were better than others, but they all ended the same way: with the Greyhounds leaving the pitch with their heads hanging in defeat.

Luckily, Y/n was kept occupied on the eighth week. Jack Danvers was coming into the office for a meeting and Keeley had asked Y/n to be there as well.

“You’re all business-y,” she’d said, “You know way more than I do, plus, Jack really likes you.”

Y/n sat on one side of Jack, with Barbara on the other, as she and Keeley recounted the conversation and clash of opinions they’d had recently.

“I completely understand where Barbara’s coming from,” Keeley said, keeping a kind tone as she turned to her CFO, “But as I was explaining to you, I’m worried that by adding more clients that could mean less attention paid to the wonderful people we already represent.”

“And then,” Barbara chuckled, though she lacked any humor, “I reminded Keeley, as you’ve said so many times, Jack, that if it does get to the point where we feel we’re spreading ourselves thinly, then we’ll hire more people,” she grinned politely at Keeley, “It’s called ‘growth.’”

Y/n and Keeley glanced over at one another fleetingly, the tension was so poorly concealed, it was getting uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you can see that as well, Y/n,” Barbara gestured towards Y/n.

“Actually, Keeley’s absolutely right, in my opinion,” Y/n answered, spotting her boss a smile, “There’s big firms, there’s small firms. Both have their allure, but I think our personability is the biggest thing we have going for us.”

“Oh,” Barbara’s grin grew scarier, “Wonderful, wonderful…”

Jack looked sweetly towards Barbara, “Okay. Let me weight in here.

“Oh, please,” Barbara obliged.

“I agree with Keeley,” Jack finished.

“Oh, that’s great,” Barbara beamed.

“Being a small boutique firm is exactly what sets you apart, like Y/n said,” Jack went on, “You want a restaurant to look successful, you take out half the tables and you have a line out the door. I say, let’s go for it.”

Keeley and Jack shared a smile.

“No, that’s wonderful. Yeah,” Barbara forced out as she rose, “And instead of salaries, we can give away the tables we threw out.”

“Don’t worry, Barbara,” Jack called, “It’ll be great.”

Barbara mumbled some dishonest agreement as she left the room, leaving it open on her way out.

Jack turned to Keeley and Y/n, “Do you ever think sunshine gets jealous of her?”

The women shared a laugh just before a knock at the door revealed Shandy. “Knock, knock.”

“Hi, babe,” Keeley greeted her friend.

“Now that your little cool girls meeting’s done,” Shandy leaned on the empty chair, very visibly unhappy, “Just wanted to share the exciting news that I’ve started an app.”

“Oh,” Keeley replied.

“It’s like Bantr, but it’s better and cooler,” Shandy’s tone was even and icy, “And actually cares about helping people have sex with celebrities.”

Y/n kept her head down, sharing an awkward glance with Jack. This was strictly Keeley’s business to handle.

“What? Shandy-“ Keeley began.

“It’s called ‘Star Fuckr,’” she announced before looking to Jack, “And yeah, we are looking for investors.”

When Jack didn’t offer to write a multi-zero check right then and there, Shandy stood tall, shot daggers at Keeley and strutted her way out of the room.

“I take it she’s still angry about the whole Bantr thing?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Keeley nodded, “Shandy does not have a good relationship with rejection, or her ex, or with her workplace, or most nouns, really.”

“‘You are so passionate, but I have to let you go,” Jack said, pulling Y/n and Keeley’s attention, “‘I’m sorry, but I know someone as brilliant as you will land on their feet.”

Keeley struggled momentarily, “What did I do?”

“No, no, no, no,” Jack reached out across the desk, “Keeley, sorry. That’s what you say when you fire Shandy.”

Y/n and Keeley both exhaled forcefully, laughing after.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Y/n’s hand was pressed to her chest, “I just saw my lease flash before my eyes.”

“It’s called a compliment sandwich,” Jack explained, “You give someone bad news, but to soften the blow, you slap it between two delicious slices of compliments.”

Keeley nodded, “But I can’t fire Shandy. She’ll hate me. And she really thinks she’s killing it.”

“I am sure she does,” Jack exhaled, “The worst people often think they’re the best. My dad calls it ‘talent dysmorphia.’”

Keeley laughed while Y/n stayed silent, knowing what was coming next.

“What do you think?” Keeley turned to her hardest worker, “Do you think it’s the right decision?”

Y/n looked down at her notebook, taking a deep breath to see if it would help the force of what she wanted to say dissipate. Jack was waiting on her too, and she couldn’t lie to her or Keeley.

“I think…” she started slow before shutting her eyes and letting it fly, “Keeley, if you don’t fire her, she will literally run the company into the ground and strut over its mangled corpse.”

When she opened her eyes, Jack and Keeley were leant back an inch or two as if to avoid the splash of her opinion. Before she could try and explain it more eloquently, the two women started laughing.

“No, no,” Jack chuckled, “Don’t hold back.”

Y/n exhaled with a small smile, turning to Keeley, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Keeley reached a hand over and poked the back of Y/n’s, “That’s why you’re my best. You don’t hold back.”

It was ironic, they both knew, considering how withdrawn Y/n kept herself. But with Keeley, it seemed to be a bit of a joke between the two of them.

“You two wanna get some lunch?” Jack asked when the giggles had died down, “My meeting just got pushed.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “Yeah, my stomach started grumbling when you said ‘compliment sandwich.’”

“You guys enjoy,” Y/n rose with them and collected her purse, “I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

“Oh,” Keeley reached back over her desk and handed Y/n a sheet of paper, “Give this to Zava. A couple more people called requesting interviews.”

Y/n glanced over the list she’d originally made, it seemed like the Zava craze still hadn’t died down. In fact, the more Richmond lost, the more people wanted to hear what he had to say. “Are we sure it’s a good idea to do so many interviews on a seven-game streak?”

“That’s the thing,” Keeley grabbed her coat, “The press eat up whatever Zava says. Can’t get enough.”

Quirking an eyebrow in understanding, Y/n tucked the list in her book and tried to imagine the ridiculous headlines that would be tied to Richmond this week.

—————————

Returning to the office after having taken lunch by herself, Y/n rapped two knuckles on the open locker room door. She still knew to wait for the all-clear.

“Everybody decent?”

A chorus of various ‘yeses’ were her key in.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Here’s your interview schedule. The press is really eager this weekend in particular. Let me know if there’s any changes you want to make.”

Zava pressed a hand to his heart and touched Y/n’s arm with the other. “Thank you,” he said softly, before looking to his teammates, “Men.”

Taking hold of both her shoulders, Zava guided Y/n to stand in front of him. “Okay,” Y/n stuttered as she was stood in front of the entire team. Seated in the middle of the room with Isaac, Jamie matched her confused gaze.

“This is what your hearts should be seeking,” Zava began to wax his odd form of poetry, “Brains, talent, warmth-“

Y/n’s brow creased, what the fuck had she walked into?

“Outer beauty will fade,” he continued, “But a smudge like this,” Zava smiled down on Y/n, “It will last forever.”

Zava patted her shoulders once more before throwing his towel over his shoulder and exiting the room. Not only was Y/n left with every Greyhound staring at her, contemplating Zava’s words, but with his schedule still clutched in her hand.

“Can someone make sure he gets this?” Y/n asked, failing to keep her tone even.

“Oh,” Dani raised his hand and climbed over Jamie’s leg to get to Y/n, “I will.”

Y/n willingly handed it off, “Thank you, Dani.” Not caring to spend another second in the room, she turned on her heel and left. She backtracked her steps quickly, “Is a smudge a good or a bad thing?”

Colin scrunched his face up, “It’s not…not…a good thing.”

Pressing a hand to her temple, Y/n decided she didn’t need to know any more about whatever conversation she’d interrupted and left the locker room.

—————————

The Man City match came about like every other one, but the air of anticipation heightened with each week. Would this be the day Richmond finally broke their streak? Or would they take another step towards double digits?

Not more than a second after Y/n had parked in the car lot, her phone rang with a call from Higgins.

“Hi,” she answered, “What’s going on?”

“Are you here yet?” Higgins asked, his tone nervous.

Y/n shut the door to her car, striding towards the back entrance to the stadium. “I just pulled in.”

“Could you pop into the coach’s office?”

“Yeah,” Y/n hung on the syllable suspiciously, turning in the other direction and swinging the door to the office building open. “Be right there.”

Y/n took long steps down the hall, passing by the locker room and heading straight for Ted’s office.

“Hey,” she said as she entered. Coach Beard, Roy and Higgins were standing around the desk clump, huddled together in conversation. Ted was already on the pitch. “What’s wrong?”

Beard kept his hand pressed to his mouth, Roy scowled at the air.

“It seems that Zava hasn’t showed up yet,” Higgins answered, “No one knows where he is.”

Y/n’s lips parted in confusion, “He’s just…not here?”

“Apparently so.”

Setting aside her annoyance, Y/n snapped into work mode and pulled her phone from her coat pocket. “Alright,” she scanned her contacts, “Let me get on the phone with some people. See if I can track him down.”

“He’d better fucking be here,” Roy growled at no one in particular.

Y/n raised her phone to her ear and pointed to Roy and Trent’s office, the former nodding for her to take it. She started at the top of the list of Zava’s personal team he’d given to her, Keeley and Higgins. Why a fecalist needed to be considered an emergency contact, Y/n would never understand, but she’d try whoever she had to…

Except the fecalist hadn’t heard from him.

Or his agent.

Or anyone Y/n dialed.

Defeatedly, and beginning to grow anxious, Y/n rejoined Beard, Roy and Higgins. “No one knows where the fuck he is,” she answered.

“Fuck,” Roy muttered.

“We got three minutes,” Beard shrugged, “What the fuck do we do?”

“Start Colin,” Roy resolved before looking to Y/n, “If you track that prick down, I don’t care, you fucking get on the pitch and tell us.”

Y/n gave a definitive nod, “You got it.”

With not so much a plan as a temporary fix, Roy and Beard left for the locker room while Y/n and Higgins headed for the hall.

“I told everyone to call me if they hear from him,” Y/n reported as they walked.

“What could be so important to make him miss a match?” Higgins pondered as they made their way to the stadium.

“I don’t know, but so long as his wife and kids are breathing and in possession of all their limbs,” Y/n practically growled, the cheering of packed house of Greyhounds growing louder with each step, “I’ll drag him onto the field myself.”

—————————

Rebecca took to the news…as expected.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Y/n sat on one side of her boss, raising two fingers of the hand rubbing at her temple, in agreement.

“So just, no one’s heard from him?” Rebecca asked.

“No one,” Higgins grimaced.

“Well,” Rebecca let her palms fall against her legs, “There goes any chance of a win.”

“Let’s pray otherwise,” Y/n scanned her phone for the fifth time since she’d sat down. It was then that she realized there was a very vocal presence missing. “Where’s Keeley?”

Snapping out of her most likely violent thoughts, Rebecca unlocked her phone and held it up to Y/n. She found a text thread from Keeley including a message that said she’d be missing the game. Below it was a picture of a baby lamb standing on the table of the KJPR conference room, surrounded by its own feces.

Three months ago, Y/n might have had a question or twelve. Now, she simply nodded and sat back in her seat. “So Shandy’s gone,” she mumbled to herself.

The game went as well as the last ones had. Colin, though talented, couldn’t rival Zava’s skill. Jamie’s extra training wasn’t the solution either, and Man City walked away with a 4-0 win against the Greyhounds.

Rebecca retired to her office while Higgins and Y/n headed to touch base with the coaches. Trent met them along the way.

“No one heard from him?” Trent asked Y/n on their way.

“Not a single text or call during the game,” Y/n scrolled her phone as they walked, an Instagram notification popping up, “Shit.”

Higgins looked over, “What?”

Y/n stopped midway to their destination, hitting play on the video.

“Hello, how are you?” Zava spoke, dressed in casual wear, “I’m just - I have to share something with you, my friends. You are not my followers. You are my believers.”

Trent and Higgins came to stand beside Y/n, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“And so it— I have to tell you,” the man paused, “Zava has played his last match. I will now dedicate all of my time and all of my energy to my family and my avocado farm.”

The rest of whatever utter nonsense Zava had to spew, Y/n didn’t listen. She was infuriated, partially because of his actions, and partially because they’d all allowed themselves to think it was ever a good idea to hire him. He’d fed the Greyhounds to the wolves with no regret and it affected all of AFC Richmond.

When the video ended, Trent, Y/n and Higgins shared a hopeless look.

“We’ve got to tell the boys,” Higgins finally spoke, shrugging slightly.

The three of them made their way down the rest of the hall where the locker room door hung open. The scene inside was dismal, each of the men sat on the benches with their heads hung.

“Hey, guys,” Higgins greeted in an attempt to stay positive, “Good effort today.”

“Mr. Higgins,” Colin spoke up from his seat, “Is it true about Zava?”

Y/n cast her gaze downwards, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“I’m afraid so,” Higgins replied.

Dani, cradling a towel to his face, began to weep into the fabric.

“Maybe some tissues for Dani,” Higgins muttered quietly.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Sam stood with his phone in hand, “Zava just posted a video.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/n grumbled under her breath as the Greyhounds circled up. Everyone except Jamie, who remained sat on the floor.

The boys watched the video, clinging to every last word at the start, and walking away with mumbled curses and shakes of the head. Any love or respect they had for their former teammate had been lost within thirty virtual seconds.

Y/n snuck a glance over at Jamie, expecting to see him struggle to keep his joy under wraps. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Even he was in shock.

“Gentlemen,” Ted said as he entered, quickly noticing Y/n’s presence, “And lady. That was a tough one tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That’s all right. We gonna get another crack at ‘em later in the season. Uh-huh,” Ted looked to Beard, “Coach? No practice tomorrow.”

Beard nodded, “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Ted looked back to the team, “Well, I’ll see y’all on Monday.”

While the rest of the team began to talk amongst themselves, Sam looked up confusedly at Ted. “Hey, hey. Hey, Coach,” he called till the manager stopped in his tracks, “What about Zava?”

Ted glanced over at Zava’s multiple lockers, his empty chair.

“He quit the team,” Sam stated, as if it unheard news.

“I mean, technically he retired from the whole sport,” Ted clarified, “Which makes it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soulmates.”

The Greyhounds replied quietly in agreement.

“But look, look, look, look,” Ted redirected their focus back, “I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And you know what? I think it’s a good thing.”

The boys began to argue back in shock.

“Well, I do. Okay, look,” Ted spoke over his players, “Do I wanna win? Heck yeah. But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here. It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

“We could have tried,” a desperate Dani replied.

As the initial surprised faded, Y/n was beginning to match Ted’s opinion. Zava may have taken them for a temporary ride to the top, but this ultimate insult had shown that his heart was next in Richmond.

“Hey, guys. Guys, look,” Ted held up a hand, “We got a good thing going here. All right?” Ted’s eyes fell to his left, meeting Jamie’s, “We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?”

No one dared disturb the silence as the truth washed over each of them, including those who weren’t players.

“Yeah,” Ted said quietly, “All we need to win are the fellas in this room, right now,” he pointed to the men on the benches, “And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

No sooner than when Ted had uttered the last two words did the bright yellow ‘Believe’ sign hanging over his head split itself down the middle. The Greyhounds jumped to their feet and cried out to various degrees. Even Y/n gasped a little, having learned of its significance.

“It’s a sign,” Bumbercatch called out.

“That’s it,” Colin held up his hands, accepting fate, “We’re doomed.”

As the locker room grew louder, Ted held up his hands and attempted to settle things down.

“Now hold on. Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed. But Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree, Yeah.”

Ted turned around and removed both halves of his handiwork, folding them together. “In fact this, it’s just a sign.”

Without any hesitation, Ted tore the paper into four pieces, sending the locker room into chaos again.

“All right, guys, listen to me,” Ted commanded the room, “Belief doesn’t just happen ‘cause you hang something up on a wall. All right? It comes from in here,” he touched his chest, “You know? And up here,” he touched his temple before hitting his stomach, “Down here. Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of times, we end up getting in our own way.”

Y/n had yet to be present for any of Ted’s locker room speeches, as she had no reason to be. But immediately, like some spiritual presence moving through the room, she felt his words take hold of her.

“You know, crap like envy or fear, shame,” Ted continued, seemingly speaking to himself as well, “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. You know what I mean? Do you?”

He wasn’t speaking to her, but the question still penetrated Y/n all the same. She could feel a familiar ball of anxiety beginning to build in her stomach.

“No, me neither,” Ted shook his head after the boys answered back, “Hell no. Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve.”

One blade inserted itself into Y/n’s gut, the omnipresent pain causing her heart rate to speed up.

“Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved,” Ted went on, “Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

A second blade settled in Y/n’s chest, this one causing the muscles to contract. She closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the rising emotions at bay.

“Or what about the belief of hope?” Ted asked, “Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better.”

Better, Y/n thought on the word. Better. Did things ever get better? Or did ‘bad’ just shapeshift into something else? Did it just wait along the road in the shadows, waiting for ‘better’ to come merrily on its way?

“Oh, man,” Ted sighed, “To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. Yo, hey. If you can do that,” he pointed to each player in the room, “If each of your can truly do that-“

Ted made one more rip down the sign’s tatters, walking to the center of the room. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

As the remains of the sign slapped against the metal bench, Y/n’s anxiety reached its brim. She placed a near shaking hand on Higgins’ shoulder to signal she was leaving before slipping out the back door. Blearily, she made it down the hall and outside, the fresh air of the parking lot slamming into her.

Once in the safety of her car, she allowed herself to weep.

Zava was the furthest thing from her mind. The incoming headlines, another loss on the scoreboard…all of it. She couldn’t have cared less if she’d tried. All she could feel was the crippling ache in her chest, the sting of her tears, the overwhelming feeling that came with being utterly alone. When a person became aware of just how much bigger the world around them was and how infinitely small they really were. The pain that could be remedied with a simple hug or a comforting word.

Y/n let out a silent sob, the familiar ache of all she wanted having taken a new form, once again. It would certainly kill her to allow herself her basic needs, to walk back in and hurt with the people inside. And it would break her all the same to continue hiding.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Rhys Darby; Samba BTS; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; HowToHelp; Petition Embed; Queerties Last Day; IRL Outreach Assets; New Watch Parties; Visual Rep of SaveOFMD Effort; Fan Spotlight; Collages; OurFlagMeansBooze; Articles; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Wow everyone, crazy day again. Day 2 of BTS Darbygeddon. I'm actually going to set a google calendar reminder for tomorrow between 1-2 in case Samba decides to drop another doozy on us. Hope you all had a good day. Here's the highlights-- there's more I would have liked to add but I need to get permission first, so I'll hopefully have them up tomorrow. As always, please let me know if I missed anything <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Back again with another Cameo is Rhys for our lovely crewmate @Kellykat53 over on twitter! Thank you so much for sharing this with us Kelly, it's a lovely little inspirational video, definitely gives us plenty of Vitamin RD (as @scorpiostarseed would say). Check out the Cameo

= Saint Samba Schutte =

I've seen several people mention that Samba is a Saint (sorry not sure who started it to attribute it) so going forward, that will be his name. SO MANY BTS pictures and videos. My goodness. Has it even been a day since the last Merstede dump? It has, but damn, here we are with the BOYFRIEND video, and the nipple scratching, and oh look it's Buttons from the Cryptid Factor! As always, if you have access to instagram, please check out these posts on Samba and Rhys' posts/stories.

Videos on Tumblr:

Boyfriends - ty @blakbonnet!

Merstede - ty @kiwistede!

English Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Cursed Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Steard Nips - ty @kiwistede!

Rhysently Granted Reunion - ty @kiwistede!

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico voiced the new novel "The Diablo's Curse "by New York Times Best Seller Gabe Cole Novoa! I know some of you are huge Vico fans so wanted to mention it, you can purchase the audio book here. Src: Vico's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

Are you in New York? Our Pirate Queen will be at the #TonyKiserTheater NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26 at 6:30PM for a one night only reading of On The Evolutionary Function of Shame, by D.A. Mindell - For more details visit here.

== How to Help ==

Hey all! We're adding some things to the daily task lists (and taking some off). Here they are!

= Petition Embed Code =

Looking to easily embed the petition link in your AO3 fic, or maybe your email? @sonnetforbonnet was kind enough to provide us with some embeds you can use! Please visit the repo for the codes!

= Last day for Queerties! =

Please remember to vote! Today's the last day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

= IRL Outreach Assets =

== New Watch Parties Coming Up! ==

The Pirates! Watch Party! This is a family friendly movie so bring the kids! Or the adults-- or anyone you know, really, as long as it's not against their will! Sunday March 3rd, 3 PM EST, 12 PM PST, 8 PM GMT!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurPirateCaptain

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Visual Representation of Fandom Efforts to SOFMD ==

Remember our friends that had the in person Matelotage Processional? Well they're back with a funny video illustrating the fandom efforts of Save OFMD!

Fangirlfoto's Instagram Don't have instagram? See the video on the repo here.

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

Thank you once again to @wndrngnomad on twitter for all their awesome collages dedicated to the Cast and Crew! Day 21: Calypso's Birthday! Perfectly timed considering the lovely Boyfriend themed BTS we got today! Catch-Up: Day 2: Madeleine Sami!

= Our Flag Means Booze! =

Our absolutely brilliant crew-mate @quiet-compassion over on tumblr has been designing OFMD Themed Drinks since the show was dropped by Max!  These not only have super fun and creative names you'll all recognise, but an amazing array of flavours too! If you're 21+ (in the US) or the appropriate age for drinking in your country, feel free to try them out! As always, please drink responsibly! Are you celebrating with Moonglow Manifesting? Why not try the "Moon Glow" cocktail for the end of the event! Want to see ALL their concoctions? Head on over to the repo, they're all there!

== Articles ==

17 Facts and Easter Eggs about OurFlagMeansDeath That will Get you On Board - 17 Fakten und Easter Eggs zu „Our Flag Means Death“, die dich ins Boot holen - ty @AddieH on twitter

Max: The 34 Absolute Best TV Shows to Watch

==Morale ==

Hey crew. I've been hearing some scuttlebutt around the deck that people are starting to worry again about whether or not s3 is going to happen. The love notes section is already pretty long so I'm not gonna go too crazy up here too -- instead I'm going to just point out that David Jenkins, while not active and posting things for us right now, is sneakily poking around in Samba and Rhys' BTS comments. He's still there, he's still watching, and I think he can tell we're all feeling the high from Samba's releases. Don't give up hope, these things take time. They're gonna get there. I'm gonna add the trends to this section today because I think it's important to see what we did today:

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating since I know a lot of you are struggling right now.

Just a gentle reminder that if your brain is telling you that there's something wrong with you, or that you've done something wrong or embarrassing -- it's lying to you.

There's been so much dopamine from all the excitement lately with the BTS, that it has to come down at some point, and when it does, your brain will sometimes over-compensate and you start feeling maybe worse than you did before.

This is totally normal, it really is. Our brains are glorious complex pathways of unmeasurable brilliance, and yet a simple hormone change can make that same brain tell us that we're not enough, or we're not worthy.

I am here to remind you, you are so very much enough.

No matter what is happening in your life-- in your job, in your personal relationships, in your family, in your school, anywhere--

YOU ARE ENOUGH, EXACTLY HOW YOU ARE.

If you feel like you've failed, or you've let someone down, just know you are STILL enough. We all fail, it's how we learn.

We pick ourselves back up and we try again, and if we fail again--

We're STILL enough, and we are still worthy of love and comfort.

Eventually you will succeed. You will get there, and all the while while you work on it, YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

I know it's so hard to see when you're feeling small, but I see you all every day, and I am awe-struck at your constant ability to band together and not only find love and support, but give it so freely and lovingly.

A simple @ to someone, alerting them to something they'd like

A love note in dms or on a tumblr post

A gif or picture or video brought to tumblr from some other platform so others can see them.

Writing a fic or drawing a picture.

A reblog with tags, goofy or not

Anon Asks showing people you support how they feel about a given topic

Liking a post.

These are all love notes. No matter how public or private, they're all there and they all add up eventually to form this wonderful community and you've been kicking ass at love.

I know we all look like we're having a good time, but a lot of us are struggling silently, and yet we're finding ways to reach out to one another and spread love to help us all get through. Love isn't always positivity, it can be commiseration, or frustration on behalf of someone. You all are finding the best ways to help your crew, and I'm so very proud of you.

You all are capable, creative, gifted, beautious piles of stardust smooshed together into one wonderfully unique package, and you are so very loved.

You are enough,

You are loved,

and THINGS WILL GET BETTER Lovelies.

Get some rest <3 You got this.

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

What can I say, I literally can't not include this Rhys gif today. It's physically impossible, please forgive me. Good fucking lord, I'm going to Costa Rica now. Also, sorry I tried to get a matching Taika gif, but I have run out of brain cells. Hopefully this one will suffice.

Rhys - Courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

Taika - Courtesy of @studiomoon

[contentloadingandstuff]

This is not a post about writing. Sorry.

I don't want to put personal things on this blog. You're here to read the stuff I write, and don't want to listen to me whine. I understand that. And yet here I am.

As predicted, though it came much faster. It's already been a week and I'm starting to have enough of this. The entire day was spent at the university because my lessons are spaced out throughout the day. I have added another two annoying, condescending and egoistic professors. I miss high school already, and I never thought I would - everything was better organised back then. Classrooms packed, stuffy, filthy chair-desks. Every teacher has their own rules and programmes. Every one of them says that it's going to be difficult. Thanks, I didn't realise that when I signed up for five years of law. They give tasks and homework that involve other people, people that I don't know and that seem to not give a flying duck about me when I try to seek them out. So much boring text to dig through, while not even knowing which parts are important. I got into the highest language group (C1) in English. My reward? Two years spent working my ass off with a nasty hag as my teacher. I have to commute ninety minutes to campus. I missed my bus today by two stops. Now it's forty minutes more commuting as punishment. And then twenty minutes on foot. I left my house at 8, I will come back at 20. Twelve hours. Every Monday since now. Half of which are actually spent on learning.

I'm tired. The bed is tough, the flat cramped and lonely. I have left everyone behind for this. Sure, I can travel back to them by train, but that costs. And my teachers allow just two missed classes, else you fail. Money management is giving me decision fatigue. I have long started digging into my savings, the stuff I got on my birthday. The rent is high. I need to get a flatmate to reduce the costs because my grandparents won't let me stay in this tiny flat for less than 3000 PLN (750$) monthly.

On top of that, my friends have gotten less talkative. I don't blame them, they have their own lives. If anybody texts or calls me, it's my family - only to learn about how I fare. Not in general, just at the university. Because there is nothing more to me. They tell me 'ah, yeah, that's going to suck :D' with a cheerful tone. Oh it already does. But I have to answer them that I'm fine, because it wouldn't do any good to tell them to piss off, or at least shut up if they have to be on my back.

I was excited at the prospect of being alone. I wouldn't have to be ashamed, worried or hide things. Independence, privacy. It quickly wore off. I stay up until 3 am, get five hours of sleep and go to uni. I play video games, but even they don't excite me as much as they used to. I feel like I've watched every single video on YouTube by now. I don't have the strength to go for new things now.

Writing is nothing but another source of stress now. When I do my dailies in Genshin I am reminded that I'm not writing. NAU stares daggers at me. I've killed it, but the first remade chapter isn't even halfway ready as of now.

I'm not going to the gym, or leaving the house that much. I'm eating trash food, for just a moment of distraction. I've bought more Lego than I bought for years recently. Just to get a moment of happiness when putting it together. I've spent money on things that I won't use. They don't seem as interesting when they are built. I can't sell them, I've opened them already. I lost two instruction books. They are useless.

I don't have a choice, I need to keep studying, but I don't want to. Now I have nobody to guide me through this mess. I need to work things out myself, but it's not what I can feasibly do.

I hate it here. I hate it now. I regret living up to this moment in my life. I wish I spared myself of all this. But I didn't have the strength to do it, even when I had the best chance.

So uh, writing is gonna be slow alright.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Happy birthday!!!!✨✨✨✨✨✨🌻🌷🌻🌻

Please: Gojo Satoru, stressed, "Well don't just stand there, do something" And "They don't deserve you"

Thanks so much 🤍

aww, thank you so much!!!! (Please ignore this is like 3 days late; lifes been weird lmao)

I was really excited to do this one, I hope you like it!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A very stressed and a little protective, Satoru Gojo

The room was tense, apprehension and fear so thick in the air that at times it felt like trying to breathe in putty. For Satoru, at least. If you were feeling any of the pressure, you were pretty good about hiding it. Absent-mindedly scrolling through social media on your phone, making a point to pay everyone else in the room no mind. Gojo knew you better than that though. He could see that you didn't stop long enough to read any of the posts, and that your finger tapping was far too frantic to be from annoyance alone. 

Finally, the Elders came in. Everyone rose out of respect and habit, and bowed low as they walked through the room. Satoru tried to catch your eye, but you were making the pointed decision to look at only the floor. His hand reached for yours, something to let you know it would be ok, but before he could make it the elders spoke.

"Rest." Gakuganji grumbled, and everyone returned to their seats. 

"I wonder how it feels to get an undeserved standing ovation every time you enter a room.." Satoru mumbled the anxious joke. For the most part, he got glares and side eyes. But, from you, he got a ghost of a smile. And that was his real goal anyway. 

“Y/n L/n, You stand trial today for using a forbidden curse technique,”  The old man said, utterly uninterested. He was just annoyed that his Monday morning tea was being interrupted. “For your crimes you-”

“Wait, What?” You scoffed, “Some fucking trial, you’re sentencing me already?”

“L/n, your crimes are clear and well documented.” Gakuganji sighed, rubbing his temple with two fingers. Your hands twitched with rage.

“Yes, I’m not arguing that I'm innocent, I’m saying my motivation for doing so should be taken into consideration.” you pointed out. Had you broken an ancient rule placed on your family a millennia ago? Yes, undoubtedly. But did you also save thousands of lives in the process? Without question. The special grade you were fighting was going to take out all of Okinawa, and your ‘forbidden’ cursed technique allowed you to exercise the curse before it even had a chance. You were not a criminal. Which is why your treatment since the incident was making your blood boil.

“Honorable as your intentions may have been, it’s no excuse for breaking a precedent that goes all the way back to the Sengoku era. Your execution will be-”

“Execution?!” you snapped. Were they really so caught up in their goddamn traditions they were going to kill you over this?! Satoru was stunned. He felt trapped in a static coffin as he processed the words. Execution? Execution? He saw you getting more and more impassioned in your argument, further digging your grave and pissing off the geezer. And then he felt your nails dig into his forearm, electrifying him back into the moment as his eyes snapped to your desperate stare.

“Don’t just stand there, do something!” You begged. He shook his head, remembering that he was Satoru fucking Gojo, surely he had some weight he could pull to save your life. He stood,

“An execution?” He said, standing up, “That’s just a little extreme don’t you think?” Gakuganji groaned in frustration, wishing for once he could just make this kid go away.

“No Gojo, I don’t. They-”

“Saved millions of lives, right. I’m well aware of the details, old man, you don’t have to explain.” he smiled, “Really, if anything we should be celebrating them. Instead you cowards want them dead? Are you really that scared of something as small as change?” Yoshinobu slammed his fist on the table before him to try and regain control of the situation. He pointed an accusatory finger at your old friend.

“Silence Gojo, I will have no more of this. My decision is final-”

“Oh, mine is too.” Satoru smiled, “If any of you even think about laying a finger on them, You’re going to have to deal with me.” He said darkly. Gojos' threat hung heavy in the air. He didn’t go into details. He didn’t have to. Everyone's eyes nervously flashed from you, to Satoru, to Yoshinobu. Everyone knew the old man had already lost, the question now was what would happen to you.

“Fine.” the head elder said, finally relenting. “But they are hereby banned from using jujutsu sorcery ever again. Any attempt to do so will result in them being labeled a curse user, and executed on sight.” You bristled at the final verdict, but both you and Satoru knew better than to try and test your luck further. At least you had your life. “We are done here.” Gakuganji siad, dismissing the room. You were the first out, followed closely by Satoru.

The two of you had managed to make it to the garden before the tears started to fall. It only made you angrier with yourself. You hated it, you hated crying, you hated how you couldn’t protect yourself during your trial, you hated that they had taken your sorcery away from you. You hated them. 

“Y/n, no-” Satoru muttered, taking you into his arms and pulling you into his chest. You had talked to him before about random hugging, especially when he saw you were in distress, but you were willing to let it slide this time. This time, his warm arms and familiar scent wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting the tears freely fall.

“I know right now it hurts,” He whispered softly, gently petting your hair, “But they’ll be begging you to come back, I know they will.”

“I gave them everything Satoru,” You whimpered, “I gave my life for jujutsu sorcery…”

“I know you did. They don’t deserve you.” Satoru sighed, kissing the top of your head. “And.. I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but this might actually be good.”

“How?!” You demanded.

“Because you’re finally free. You can pursue whatever life you want to live without the threat of death constantly looming over you. You’ll never have to endure all of their glares ever again, you can find a place where you’re loved, and cherished, and valued like you deserve to be. You never have to be disrespected again.” He wasn’t wrong, and the thought did bring you some solace. Still, one aspect of jujutsu society tugged at your heart. The one thing you couldn't stand the thought of leaving.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what choice you make, I’ll be there. If you’ll let me of course.” You couldn’t help but smile at his promise.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[jamtlandsarkiv]

Finally, I've completed all my exams and I'm finished with university! I was going to give myself a decent break to do nothing but draw, but then I was asked if I wanted to start work next week. I'm a bag chaser with the trillionaire grindset, so I'll become a productive working citizen starting Monday. I also received a random raise, maybe someone found my blog and thought it was awesome.

I think it would be more awesome if this blog could post more than once per quarter!

I'm also moving to a new place tomorrow (on Björn's birthday?!) so that my daily commute to work becomes 10 minutes both ways. There will be no excuse to not spend the time saved on this blog now.

[yankstrash]

goodbye, old friend

liked by gabeperreault44, _willsmith2 and others

amelia.ln: the first of the hardest goodbyes 🖤 you've pissed me off, you've driven me crazy and most importantly, you've stolen many homework answers from me. but i would take all of those for just one more school year of us all together.

smit, i can honestly say i've never had a friend like you. and i know now you're asking yourself, "meels, do you mean this in a good way or a bad way?" and the answer is yes.

while i won't miss sitting next to you in english class every monday, wednesday and friday (lie), i will miss knocking your ice cream cone in your face and our post hockey game wobbles on the dance floor

save me a night club dance in sj and i'll save you some grammar pop quiz answers in bos 🫡

i'm so lucky to be your friend. ❤️ i'm proud of you and all you're going to do. see you in the very near future, buddy.

love you always, xo meels <3

view 178 comments

grumpy.boldy: k i'm crying.

aram_minnetian: making me real emotional meels.

gabeperreault44: there was truly nothing better than watching my best friend and my favorite girl become the best of pals 🥲 even when it was to plot against me ..

↪️ amelia.ln: oh we didn't do it THAT much

↪️ gabeperreault44: ...right, sure.

_willsmith2: my go to person when i needed an ear to yap off 🫶🏻

_willsmith2: i'm going to miss you tons, even if i didn't always act like it... so glad i have found a pal for life 🤝 thank you for all the english class help, i couldn't have survived without you, truly.

↪️ amelia.ln: yeah yeah i know.

_willsmith2: love you tons meels ❤️

↪️ amelia.ln: love you smit 🥹🫶🏻

ryan.leno_4: the end of an era...

↪️ amelia.ln: HUSH. NOW.

jacob_fowler24: best squad ever 🫶🏻

_willvote: favorite will smith memory, go.

↪️ amelia.ln: has to be either singing karaoke on my birthday or teaching him how to boogie board over spring break

↪️ gabeperreault44: two solid choices.

↪️ grumpy.boldy: def boogie boarding.. i have never seen someone so athletic eat so much shit by nothing other than ocean waves.

↪️ eliana.brielle: PLS

↪️ _willsmith2: 😑 this is why i'm leaving.

↪️ amelia.ln: @ _willsmith2 shut up.

emmafohrr: *sigh* guess i have to transfer to fill the void 😔 (😏)

↪️ schulzyy_: no.

↪️ amelia.ln: YES YOU DO

↪️ grumpy.boldy: DO IT

↪️ eliana.brielle: YES YES YES YOU CAN HAVE WILLS SPOT ON THE MOVIE COUCH!!

↪️ _willsmith2: UM????

↪️ amelia.ln: @ _willsmith2 you're leaving, you have no say.

drewf2: the absolute best friend group bc has ever seen

coleeiserman: whew, that makes my job a lot easier next year.

↪️ colehutson23: likewise.

↪️ amelia.ln: you're still going down in the battle of comm ave.

↪️ coleeiserman: see you there?

↪️ gabeperreault44: @ coleeiserman count your days, kid. count your days.

[randomfoggytiger]

randomfoggytiger's Fictober Wrap Up, 2023

My first Fictober has concluded; and I decided to throw together my entries, thoughts, and acknowledgements into one post for posterity.

*****

Fictober Fics

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

Mulder and Scully reunite in the afterlife, two skeletons dancing in the rain and the mud.

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

Queequeg, alive and savage, joins Scully on her Chinga vacation.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part I

Mulder and Scully are attacked and turned into vampires by Ronnie Strickland. Scully's crisis begins when her faith seemingly rejects her.

"Time Passing in Moments"

Post Fight the Future Scully brings Halloween to Mulder, determined to give him a break while they wait and wait and wait for OPR.

"As Agent Mulder Says, There Are Many Different Kinds of Vampires" Part II

Mulder encourages Scully not to give up on her faith, both of them choosing to face potential death by holy fireball rather than letting her live in fearful limbo.

"There's Something Up There Mulder"

Scully realizes that Tooms is likely a distant relation of the Gender Bender Brethren (Amish hats are mentioned.)

"I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself"

Metaphorical similarities between Mulder's supposed red-green colorblindness (which he does not have) and red-hot Phoebe Green.

"How Much You're Like Ahab"-- Mulder parallels his and Scully's crime scene eating habits to those of their cannibalistic pets.

"The Truth Is Out There-- But So Are Lies"-- Scully ruminates on her partner's ease with lying; and her ability to save him from Them and himself.

"Something Approaching a Normal Life"-- Mulder realizes Scully had invited him to (a disastrous) Thanksgiving to distract himself from the anniversary of his sister's abduction. He plans to return the favor.

"Preying on the Weak and Vainglorious"-- Post Sanguinarium Mulder ruminates on bad luck and bad ends; and Scully insists he's beautiful.

"Kids Today, Huh?"-- 2023 Mulder sinks into a slump after listening to a mopey song all day. Scully reasons him out of it.

"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"-- Mulder and Scully celebrate life, the dead, and all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes of the world. (My "happy birthday in a way, Mulder" fic.)

"We Need to Get Help"-- Mulder contemplates the glaring similarities between Gender Bender and Never Again and the new differences in his partner.

"We'll Think of Something"-- The Unnatural Scully grumbles over Mulder's tendency to run off into trouble. She goes, anyway.

"End of the Road"-- Mulder's peace after Closure.

"He Had Parents Who Loved Him"-- The Mulder family and baseball.

"I Think She Was Just Trying To Get Away"-- Scully reminisces on Mulder's distance and need for distraction post Monday.

"You Don't Know the First Thing About Me"-- Krycek has fixed opinions about the Syndicate, Mulder, Marita, and morals.

"My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here"-- Scully and Mulder try to tackle her fears post All Souls.

"I'm Tired"-- Scully draws parallels between her Tithonus experience and Mulder's Sleepless and Demons one.

"Life’s Just a Path”-- If Melissa were alive post Fight the Future and Millennium, she'd never let her sister live it down.

"I Think He’s a Hard Kid to Love”-- Post Schizogeny Scully is sent on a case with Mulder to unofficially help Skinner's friends, one of which is a bear. (Prompts and artwork contributed by my two sisters.)

"Mulder Will Be Back”-- Jeffrey Spender sneers at Mulder's "hubris."

"Easy for You to Say”-- Post First Person Shooter Mulder is enamored with his little battle girlfriend.

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe”-- Freshly-dating Mulder and Scully's lifestyles don't quite match yet; but the effort is worth it.

"What Must a Mother Go Through”-- Post Emily Mulder reasons Scully out of her Mrs. Peacock comparisons.

"Watch Over You Wherever You Go”-- One Breath Maggie remembers the many reinterpretations of her daughter's necklace.

"Your Ideas Are Weirder than Ours”-- The Lone Gunmen are woken by two very grumpy-with-each-other special agents.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle”-- AU Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"Sooner or Later a Man’s Gotta Face His Demons”-- Post Amor Fati Scully prods Mulder on a stakeout about his lack of Samhain hunting.

*****

My Thoughts

It's been a few years since I've committed to a daily creative project, but this month flew by. It was a joy to prove myself, in a way; and an even greater privilege to take other people's prompts and turn them into stories. I'm proud of the work I put in, proud of how they turned out, and proud that they entertained anyone who read them.

I did discover a personal writing flaw: grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Which, given that I write and "edit" everything in under an hour and that my brain autocorrects and rewrites while I'm actively writing, is understandable. There are multiple reblogged versions of my finalized fics because I would spot an error and edit after publication but not before the readers hit. And that's okay! (When my Ao3 submission goes through, I'll upload each fic "in its final form", so no sweat there.)

*****

Trivia

Each fic was named with a quote from The X-Files, mostly from Mulder and Scully but also by various side characters (Phoebe Green, Krycek, and Maggie, namely.)

I tackled Scully's religion a lot this month as a way to work out my frustrations with her episodes: her belief in the series has always been chocked up as "yes man" syndrome; and I believe it did a disservice to Scully, multi-layered character that she is. I hope it did her a little more justice.

In a way, I dedicate "The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully" to @enigmaticdrblockhead-- whose writing not only influenced that piece but also sticks with me to this day-- and @perpetually-weirdening-- whose interest in an immortal Scully breathed life into this idea.

In a way, I dedicate "The Truth is out There, But So Are Lies" to @suitablyaggrieved: the discussion we had (concerning Mulder's ability to lie quite well) rattled around in my head until I put it down "on paper."

In a way, I dedicate "Something Approaching a Normal Life" to Baroness Blixen, who is the master of weaving angst and fluff into her holiday fics.

In a way, I dedicate "I Wonder If You Think It's Safe Enough to Indulge Yourself" to @settle-down-frohike because it reads more meta than fic (while also reading as fic.)

In a way, I dedicate "He Had Parents Who Loved Him" to @television-overload, whose baseball fic inspired by Field of Dreams still takes up space in my noggin.

And I think that's all my thoughts for now~.

*****

Acknowledgements and Thanks

@baronessblixen for encouraging me to write this month-- another boost on the long list of encouragements you've given me~.

@agent-troi and @welsharcher (my Fox Mulder Singleton Club members) for their generous prompts. Truly touched by both of you: your loooooooong list, agent-troi; and your vibey suggestions, welsharcher.

@wexleresque for your vampire prompt (that was a fun fic challenge), and your "looking up at the sky" prompt (which challenged me to tackle older years Mulder and Scully.)

@stephy-gold for her Nessa Barrett song prompt (which I plugged into older years Mulder and Scully)-- I learned something new and tackled a genre that is not my favorite (songfic.)

@tossingmyglossymane for the post Monday prompt, which was more challenging to write than expected (and turned out great.)

@xxsksxxx for the prompt about Scully's cross necklace-- that was an initial struggle to nail down until I tied it back to Maggie; then it flowed~.

Anon for the prompt wanting Mulder to mull over Scully's words in Gender Bender (which tied, I thought, perfectly into his confusion in Never Again.)

Thank you to my sisters for the fall prompts that lead to Bernie the Bear (and another thank you to my younger sister who let me include her doodle for that day's Fictober entry.)

And thank you to everyone who engaged, liked, reblogged, and anything else! (I always like to dip in and out of the Notes section to see how each person responded differently to each fic-- a bonus game: make guesses and see if they're correct.) There are too many to count, so I'll just include a few off the top of my head: @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, @amplifyme, @pianogirlxf, @scullys-scalpel, @teenie-xf, @agertiegirl, @improlificinsarcasm, @borogirl, @tofuttim, @mysteryness, @rosedyl, @spidey-is-tired, and others~!

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

[princessphilly]

Soooo

My 40th Birthday is coming soon!!!!

So I decided I wanted to celebrate in a big way! Thus, a lyric blurb challenge.

So there are two ways to do this:

1. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and ask me to write or

2. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and write it yourself and post it!

Eep: edited to add, Please send me an ask with the lyric, fandom, and if you want me to write it or if you’re going to write it.

Please post anything related to this with #princesspbdaychallenge because I will be following that tag

Open fandoms: TGM, hockey (Sidney Crosby, Nate Mac, Jamie Oleksiak, Brandon Tanev, ask me about others), Marvel, CE characters, Seb Stan characters, Henry Cavill characters.

Tagging: @spine-buster @chara-hugs @starshine-hockey-girl @buckets-and-trees @biteofcherry @vonalyn @angryschnauzer @persephonepraxidikechthonios @hangmanapologist @hangmanssunnies @withahappyrefrain @yanna-banana @callsignspark @kreiderrider @gretagerwigsmuse @fineanddandy @syntheticavenger @sunshinexsin @navybrat817 @ginghampearlsnsweettea @himbos-on-ice @hiimana @whoeverineedtobe @hockeynshit @2-fast-2-curious @jobean12-blog @thebookofmags @fenixstar

Click to see lyric prompts:

Love

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Taylor Swift - Dress

Baby, won't you be my sweetheart

We could share a storybook romance

Mariah Carey - Sweetheart

How do you do it?

Make me feel like I do

How do you do it?

It's better than I ever knew

Incubus - Stellar

Forever my lady

I say just what i mean

Forever and ever

I pray is what i see

Jodeci - Forever My Lady

Walks by me every day

Her and love are the same

The woman that's stolen my heart

And beauty is her name

Dru Hill - Beauty 

When I trust you we'll make love until the morning

Let me tell you all my secrets and I'll whisper 'til the day's done

Fka Twigs - Lights On

Cupid doesn't lie

But you won't know unless you give it a try

Oh baby, true love

won't lie but we won't know unless we give it a try

give it a try

112 - Cupid

At night, I think of you

I want, to be your lady, maybe

Ghost Town DJ’s - My Boo

I don't ask for too many things

Only one thing I really need

That is you baby next to me

Mary J Blige - Give Me You

I wanna be the one who you believe

In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)

Keyshia Cole - Heaven Sent

Angst

Tell me how does it feel

When your heart grows cold? 

New Order - Blue Monday

Talk to the wind, talk to the sky

Talk to the man with the reasons why

And let me know what you find

Taylor Swift - Come In With The Rain

You can never win or lose

If you don't run the race

The Psychedelic Furs - Love My Way

I didn't know nothing, I was stupid, I was foolish

I was lying to myself

Mariah Carey - We Belong Together

There's something kinda sad about

The way that things have come to be.

Desensitized to everything.

What became of subtlety?

Tool - Stinkfist

(Do I wanna know?)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sort of hoping that you'd stay

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Collect the bad habits that you couldn't bear to keep

Fall Out Boy - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

The sun goes down

I feel the light betray me

Linkin Park - Papercut

See the stone set in your eyes

See the thorn twist in your side

I'll wait for you

U2 - With Or Without You

I come home early expecting your warm embrace

But something is wrong 'cuz its written all over your face

Dru Hill - In My Bed

Platonic

Like a shoebox of photographs

With sepia-toned loving

Jack Johnson -  Better Together

Yea, I've been workin' all week

And I'm tired and I don't wanna sleep

I wanna have fun

It's time for a good time

Alan Jackson - Good Time

Come on, baby, let's get away

Let's save our troubles for another day

Come go with me we've got it made

Let me take you on an escapade

Janet Jackson - Escapade

The grabbing hands grab all they can

All for themselves, after all

(It's a competitive world)

(Everything counts in large amounts)

Depeche Mode - Everything Counts

Wear the grudge like a crown. Desperate to control.

Unable to forgive. And sinking deeper.

Tool - The Grudge

And on I read until the day was gone

And I sat in regret of all the things I've done

For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged

In dreams until my death I will wander on

Audioslave - Like A Stone

It's so unreal, didn't look out below

Watch the time go right out the window

Linkin Park - In The End

And so we're told this is the golden age

And gold is the reason for the wars we wage

U2 - New Year’s Day

And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean delivered me

Florence and the Machine - Never Let Me Go

And all I dreamed of, it can't get started

Time goes really slow and I need to let it out

Kelela - Bankhead

Smutty

We go deep and we don't get no sleep

'Cause we'll be up all night until the early light

Janet Jackson - Go Deep

I'm hanging on your words

Living on your breath

Feeling with your skin

Will I always be here?

Depeche Mode - In Your Room

You'd be calling out my name

Begging me to play my games

Depeche Mode - Corrupt

Fetish is a pleasure you cannot be faked, woho hoho

But when it feels this good then it just comes natural

Baby, arch your back and point your toes

Miguel - Arch & Point

I'm your pimp, I'm your pope, I'm your pastor babe

Confess your sins to me while you masturbate

Miguel - the valley

I got plans to put my hands in places

I never seen, girl, you know what I mean

Usher - Nice & Slow

Turned on by everything you say

I'm turned on by everything you do

Jodeci - Freek'n You

No rules to this game

Turn me out

Now I'm helpless

And I beg you

Do it again

Kelela - Do It Again

Grab hold of me

Gentle love but touch passionately

I'll give you my blessing

Take me person and objectively

Ex and internally

Sabrina Claudio

Give it to me like you need it, baby

Want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing

Summer Walker - Girls Need Love

[baeklination]

BIRTHDAY BOY

Date: 230506

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, general fucking, fingering, eating out

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

NOTE: In some parts he's a bit... energetic (goes hard, but he's not rough, manhandling). I'm so happy I managed to post this while it's still his birthday (even if only by minutes)..! PS: Always protect, you know the drill gentlewomen and men.

WC: 2,7k

Masterlist

¤¤

"Hmph…"

Remembering what Baekhyun had said just before falling asleep you can't help chuckling: "So will I find the whole sixth floor looking at me funny if I walk past on Monday?" Not that he's not worth being the first topic of your morning meeting…

°

When Seori suggested you make a quick stop at the fifth floor on your way home there was no incentive to turn it down. Fifth floor belonged to Kim & Friedman; marketing extraordinaire and employers of Byun Baekhyun - attractive extraordinaire. 

Being from separate companies you didn't mix much, but you'd sometimes see him in the grand foyer, cafeteria, or elevator. There was no mistaking he'd seen you too. In whatever fleeting meetings you had he'd made it clear - in unspoken terms - that he's just waiting for a green light from you. So here you are, champagne flute in hand, tilting your head just so when he spots you from across the room.

"I didn't expect to see you ladies here…"

"Seori keeps her ear to the ground and heard the news. Happy birthday, Baekhyun."

"A scout? You should've been a lawyer", he says to Seori, raising his glass a little. 

Hearing someone - several someones - calling for him, he rolls his eyes and laughs.

"Sorry, you know how it is."

With it being Friday there's a relaxed and easy-going feeling different to any other workday, so even though the main event isn't around it's still nice enough to have a chat with the others, some you know better, some less.

"...trust me, sooner or later I'll get in line and buy one like everyone else, no matter the complaining I do."

"Why don't we ask Mr. Byun for his expert opinion?", one of his colleagues replies when he sees Baekhyun coming over.

"Ask me?"

"The necessity of AI lawnmow- wait, are you leaving?"

"I have errands to run early in the morning."

"But you didn't even finish your glass..!"

Putting down the still half full flute - making sure you're noticing - he apologetically puts his hand on his colleagues back:

"My car's in the garage."

"Agh! Of course it is. Eh, if it's a surprise one has to take abandonment into consideration… See you Monday."

The first trick you think of is also the easiest. Waiting two-three minutes, you pretend to be going along with the conversation, then "Oh, excuse me", put your own bubble down and open your purse. Picking up your phone you nod and frown a little and when Seori looks your way you point towards the door and mouth "I've gotta go, sorry. Monday, bye." A small wave and scrunch of the face tops it off perfectly. 

Well out of there, the elevator is up on the fourteenth floor so you jog down the stairs, feeling a touch silly, but innocently naughty at the same time. When you come down to the garage it's completely quiet save for your somewhat increased heartbeat. You don't even know what his car looks like. What if he's left al-

*puipui*

Lights and an engine.

Again jogging, you move towards the Audi, for a flash imagining how awkward it will be if it turns out to not be him, but when you look through the passenger's side window it sure is Baekhyun. 

"I wasn't sure how long I should wait", he admits when you close the door behind.

"I couldn't bolt outta there the second you left", you smile. "Then I didn't know what car was yours. But I made it."

Suddenly the air is heavy, almost pressing with tension when he looks at you.

"Mm. Happy birthday to me."

…

°

While you're busy frowning at the coffee machine, the covers ruffle in the bedroom and soon after Baekhyun steps into the kitchen, with the obvious privilege of men - looking as gorgeous in the morning as they did the day before. 

"Seven buttons and none of them makes coffee."

"Hmf, they all will…", he muses, reaching his arm in front of you, to a dishwasher stand "...if you put the water tube in."

Of course.

"Regular? Espresso?"

"How do you know I'm not a cappuccino girl?"

"You're not…", he states rather than asks, presses espresso, then slides his arms around your waist. "How d'you sleep?"

 His confident touch, his torso enveloping your body, the scent of him are as powerful this morning as yesternight; pulling your (borrowed) shirt from your backside you push out.

"I'm not sure I did."

"I would've asked you out sooner if I knew you were such a cornucopia…"

His mouth is right behind your ear and he says it in such a sticky tone that it drums up a flicker of embarrassment - the titillating, good sort.  

His lips press right where his words fell, his cock brushes against your cheeks.

It's a tight squeeze to get past your entrance, buzzes spread out all around, but once inside he gets coated little-by-little and glides smoothly to stretch you out. There's an overwhelming delicacy to his movement; short, soft, clapping against your body, his hands resting just below your waist and the sound of his airy exhaling.

In the corner of your eye you see the shadowy reflection of this morning carnality in his stainless steel fridge, blurred, as if it's too seedy a scene to watch.

With your hands hanging off the edge of the counter your mouth follows, automatically opening with a soft groan. Reacting or syncing, Baekhyun lets go of an equally faint sound, sliding his hands up, holding firmer. 

"Shh…umm, I've gotta be careful…….ah……"

It's with a sigh of disappointment he moves back, but strokes the side of your face with his thumb, tugging at your bottom lip while the other is on his cock to keep the stimulation going. He moans wetly into your mouth when your palm finds his balls and your fingers press just behind them, but almost instantly takes your wrist as he heads for the bedroom. 

"Come on, you."

The shirt goes over your head to the floor as soon as he lets go and the mattress softly sinks when you put hands and knees on them, waiting while he puts on a condom. 

He's not as slow as he was in the kitchen, pressing back in as soon as he gets behind, dipping deep with a groan of satisfaction at having his cock back inside of you. His grip isn't tough but he manages to keep you nearly perfectly still in order for him to thrust as he pleases - quickly, precisely, chasing the morning's first release. Contrary to last night - maybe with it in mind - he doesn't smack as forcefully, which lets you enjoy how the slight aching mixes with the pleasure while he gets himself closer.

He holds you a little tighter…

Shakes when he breathes out…

Gasps - and bucking, without any real control-

"A-hh!…….…a-h-h!……….mmm!......." 

-lets go of his cum.

Surrendering to fatigue and relaxation, he falls on his back next to you even before the tied up condom hits the bottom of the bin. A perfect glow of sweat covers his body and face, which he frees from his hair with a backwards stroke before shaking his head at you with a smile.

As if first keeping a distance out of respect, the full scent of espresso infiltrates the room to remind you.

"Oh! Coffee..!"

There's no elation similar, knowing that first cup is minutes away, just a quick glance at your phone to see the time.

Five missed calls. A pit the size of Saturn opens in your stomach when you see they're all from the office - but you know you're off today.

"I have to…", you mumble before putting the phone to your ear, then mouth to Baekhyun. "Office."

"There you are! Where have you been..!"

"I…had to visit a friend at the hospital". A boldfaced lie, but a valid reason to be away for that long. "What's going on, everything okay there?"

"Argh..! Kiri's decided to cut her stay short, so she's coming up for the pitch today-"

"What!? When?"

"In…you have forty minutes-"

"WHAT!? I'll…", jumping off the bed you look here, there, everywhere, for your clothes, feeling like a headless chicken "I'll be there! Gotta go!"

Perplexed, Baekhyun looks at you running around.

"What's go-"

"Kiri'scomingtodayinfortyminutes!"

"Shit. Eh… Well, get in the shower, I'll find your clothes."

°

"Look at you. No one would have a clue you're not coming from home", Baekhyun smiles. 

Then he smiles.

And, wrapping his finger around the drawstring of your trousers, pulls it undone. Placing a ball of spit on two fingers he leans forward, opening his mouth to gently catch your lips with his while you feel the lifting of your hem and the brushing of his hand curving under it. It doesn't matter that he hasn't been working you up - his fingertips sliding over your clit is fantastic.

"Ah… I don't have time…"

You angle your legs out to give him more room, and with the extra space he carries down to your entrance and presses his middle finger inside. He hums, holding your lips longer, when he feels there's a slip for him to work with and carefully pushes a second finger in as well.

Standing next to bow-legged, leaning shoulder against the wall for support, you touch the bare skin of his torso. His fingers curving in-and-out, shallow kisses…you're immersed in everything in this quiet scene.

Without a word he moves you with him when he sits down, placing you on his leg. The hallway mirror reveals the picture of Baekhyun in only sweats with the contour of his hand undulating under your pants and you grabbing the armrest with your mouth open. It's only two fingers with short pumps, but it feels thick and your entrance quivers with gratification when his knuckles push onto it. There's no prize for staying composed so you collapse back, grabbing the back of his neck,   the way he doesn't resist putting his hand on your throat.

"Remember, now, I have neighbours", he whispers, angles his slick fingers upwards and rubs, entrance and clit.

"A-hh"

"Shh…" But he couldn't enjoy it more.

"A-hh…"

 Your leg twitches, fingers press his neck and the armrest threatens to crumble in your hands. The tips of his fingers are soft on the skin of your clit even when he flicks sideways; faster, finding a straight line to pull up your orgasm and amidst all the stroking, slipping, jerking, you choke - shaking, releasing it like fireworks onto him.

"Shh, shh", he whispers with delight, half covering your mouth while his fingers stroke down long then draw big circles, smearing out even more fluids.

"Agh..!" 

You twitch and grab his arm when the stimulation gets too strong, so he stops, but stays pressing down his hand.

After allowing you a few seconds to breathe, he sweeps his hand over your head as if tidying it up, laughing a little. 

"You're gonna be late if you don't get going soon."

"You…fuck you, Baekhyun…"

"Ouh, feisty. Or is that another proposition?"

•

Being professional is as easy as turning on a light switch but there's no denying that the light bulb seemed to be flickering a bit, with Baekhyun sneaking his way into your head when the presentations started. Not to mention that sitting down and even crossing your legs came at an aching prize. 

But disaster averted, success concluded, you finally get back home. Getting off work also meant giving your brain free reign and since you got into the taxi you'd been bombarded with the night's adventures, making the short drive home a very long one. 

In a way it's as if you're pretending to only be changing clothes when you pull the curtain half-way; pretending to just be exhausted and wanting to expel work wear and lie down for a minute. But of course it isn't.

Having gotten rid of your trousers and blouse, laying down in the cool sheets is incredible, but not enough to stop those thoughts. From such a cool way of inviting you over came such fire back at his place. His touch, his kissing, temperament, were all exquisite…

The way the contours of his thigh muscles showed when he lowered himself down, and he had such an expression on his face when he understood you thought he was getting on top of you but then realized he was serving up something different. How he had observed you while he put your legs over his shoulders, pulled you back, and pushed his cock down to your entrance…

You had to grip the sheets when he squeezed in. Slowly, but without stopping, he pressed his entire length in from the head to root, stretching your entrance as he thickened. He paused for a second, then drew back. Then in again, pressing deep while a groan escaped under his breath. When he drew back that time there was a devilish tug at his lip - he must've been delighted to see you'd happily go his way - and he didn't spend much time on gradually, moving quickly from a 4/4 of thrusting to letting out his beast entirely.

His hands firmly but not painfully secured your position as he violently snapped his pelvis against your ass, threatening to break himself - promising to bruise you. Shit, you haven't been fucked that hard since you had a punishment due, and maybe not even then… 

He hadn't objected when your legs slid down around him while he paused. No, he had to pace himself. Laughing under his breath, he bit his lip and pressed his body on top of yours, sliding his near bursting cock in again.

Rolling - grinding - into you, his hand enveloped your breast while his mouth caressed your cheek:

"Agh……mh!…why d'you make me wait so long-"

"Mh, fuck, why d'you wait…"

"-a-hh.......hhh……a-h-h…"

His hands, damp with sweat, had cupped your jaw and his eyes gleamed with such fevered excitement before he pressed his mouth onto yours. His kissing was succulent; wet, plush, deep and hot, moving along with the bounce from his hips. He'd broken it with a drawn out moan then steadied himself against the headboard above you. Uh, it was great, him doing one-twenty an hour, and how would you look if you hadn't cushioned his blows with your hands on his sides? God.

How he'd made this sound, like an angry roaring, just before he put everything he had left into it - into you - drilling:

tta, tta, tta,

tta, tta,

tta, tta-

"Aagh!"

Pounding, growling, he'd come. 

And the way he'd sunk down on his forearms to kiss you again and snapped his pelvis, still so turned on…

Feeling the pulsing between your legs you wonder if you shouldn't just call him. Text maybe, to not seem so desperate? "As if he'd take it like that, pff! Shit, should I?" You know he wouldn't mind. And you know you wouldn't mind a second serving…

He hadn't missed a beat when you nudged your knee against his chest. Only hummed "m-hm" and moved you properly over him. Flat, his tongue had run up your clit to taste and you already had to grab onto the headboard and fight the urge to ride or buck when he did his thing - kissing without any notion of force, only giving unadulterated pleasure. It made you feel decadent - depraved, even; in that still room all that was heard was the sound of his lips hugging and letting go while you felt the juice seeping out. And when he freed his glossy lips for a moment to push three fingers in he looked ready to go again - when you glanced back his cock was indeed lying long and hard against his stomach - but he kept on you, stroking his now drenched hand over your pussy.

"Sit down..." Parting your folds, he pointed his tongue and flicked it up and down, then again let the warmth of his mouth cover you, humming appreciatively with each taste while your abdomen tightened. "Mmm…..mmm………..How hard do you wanna come..?"

Even just lightly pulling at your underwear makes you hold your breath from pleasure. Thinking about him has made them slide so easily…

You push them aside…

●

[runwayrunway]

Making a new year post while it's still technically old year in my timezone because I am, simply put, sleepy.

2023 has been a year. In terms of things that I have actually accomplished this year, Runway Runway is definitely the most significant, the one I'm proudest of, and the one I'm most excited to bring into 2024. I know that the new year is largely an arbitrary distinction (I literally have to go to work tomorrow morning like any other day) but I find it helpful to allow myself to buy into the idea of it being some sort of fresh start on the condition I don't fool myself into thinking it makes the last year go away. 2023 was a pretty bad year for me in a lot of ways, and for some reason it's always December specifically that doesn't let me catch a break, but the saving grace of it is that tomorrow it won't be December anymore.

Obviously, do not expect a post tomorrow. Probably not next week either because the fifth is my birthday and if I know myself I'll be making a sincere attempt to enjoy it by any means necessary. But my current estimate is that on Monday the 15th I'll be releasing a British Airways post, and from there I will probably continue with weekly Monday installments until I've caught my breath a bit and can increase the frequency. I have quite a few airlines I've been excited to review for probably months now, and I don't see myself getting less excited about any of them. And hopefully, now that I'm no longer going to be flattened by the experience of working winter holidays in a store which gets the majority of its revenue from people buying gifts for their family, I'll have a lot more time to look at pictures of airplanes.

I want to sincerely thank everyone who has followed this blog, read my posts, liked them, reblogged them, replied to them, sent asks, requested airlines, submitted pictures, and in any way given me incentive to write a self-indulgent blog which makes me very happy. Happy new year, and I hope you'll stick around to see me get to 1% the age of Finnair.

The only extant airline turning 100 in 2024 is Tajik Air, by the way, so expect to see that one at some point.

[storyofmychoices]

Choices Masterlists: (alphabetical by LI's first name)

💙 Beckett Harrington x Emma Carlyle [The Elementalists] 💜 Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley(OC) [Open Heart] 💙 Ethan Ramsey x Ellie Shepherd [Open Heart] 💜 John Somerset x Christie Hayes [The Unexpected Heiress] 💙 Jun Seong x Emilia Charles [The Deadliest Game] 💜 Justin Mercado x Mari Bishop [Save the Date] 💙 Levi Schuler x Laura Day [Mother of the Year] 💜 Mal Volari x Daenarya [Blades of Light & Shadow] + Mal's Orphanage Series + Blades 2 AU 💙 Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer [Red Carpet Diaries/Hollywood U] 💜 Troy Hassan x Astraea Callen [Wake the Dead] 💙 Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose [Crimes of Passion] 💜 Assorted Characters (EmoDrake, ROE Bartender, Thomas Mendez, Kate O'Malley) 💖 Geometric Art 💖 My Personal Favorite Fics

✨Recent Posts ✨

Bitten By Love (Vampire AU): Vampire!Daenarya feeds on her favorite human. [Art]

I Dream of [Thomas and] Alex / Second Art

Operations with Drs Lahela (Halloween Art)

Happy Birthday, Bryce (Picta Posts)

Of Leaves and Laughter (Orphanage Series): Mal and the boys are cleaning up around the orphanage when Mal has an idea to make things more interesting.

Autumn's Embrace: Bryce and Olivia find magic in the small moments of autumn.

A Date to Remember: Bryce has a very important question for Olivia. (iykyk)

A Brush of Magic: Emma tracks down a particularly mischievous book, while Beckett gets caught in their path.

Through the Pain: Emilia takes Jun up on his offer to try the punching bag. (A more emotional rewrite of Jun's Chapter 6 diamond scene)

Only Her: Thomas and Alex enjoy a quiet sunset at the beach.

A Late Night Picnic: Mal surprises Daenarya with a late night picnic, but it doesn't go as planned. [with Rayden & Lydo]

Neon Glow: Bryce and Olivia enjoy some fun during laser tag with their friends. 🖊️🎨

Love & Scotch: dx: Friendship & New Beginnings: Hunt and Ethan share a drink before Hunt's wedding. 🖊️

Daenarya and her trophy husband 🎨

Character Profiles: (alphabetically by first name)

💜 Alex Hunt (RCD/HWU F!MC / OC)

💖 Callista Rossi (VoS MC)

💜 Daenarya (Blades F!MC / OC)

💖 Ellie Shepherd (OH F!MC)

💜 Emilia Charles (TDG F!MC)

💖 Guinevere Áine of Carmelide (F!MC)

💜 Iliana Maria Volari (Blades F!OC)

💖 Keiki Lahela

💜 Laura Day (MotY F!MC)

💖 Lilah Rose (CoP F!MC)

💜 Makoa Lahela (OH M!OC)

💖 Mal Volari (coming soon)

Alessia Volari (Mal's sister) < needs to be rewritten with Wren

💜 Nyx Selenastra (Blades NB!OC)

💖 Malia Lahela (OH F!OC)

💜 Olivia Hadley (OH F!OC)

💖 Rayden + Lydo (Blades OCs) (coming soon)

💜 Trystan Thorne

💚 Character Birthday Chart

Reblog Game Masterlists (alphabetically)

💙 MC Monday: Olivia Hadley 💖 Summer Character Challenge : Olivia Hadley 💙 Summer Character Challenge: Lilah Rose 💖 Top 3 Thursday

Yearly Summary Posts

2023

[emerxshiu]

[SIDE ORDER]

tw// slight blood and body horror

not sure if it could classify like it but im adding a warning just in case

Speedrun agent 8 for side order release

I remember mentioning in my instagram when posting for valentine's that i would be back when side order drops, i mostly meant it as kind of a joke since i had some drawing to post. i did not expect that to actually become true lol.

Im definitly staying up tonight (not like i could sleep these past days anyway)

It felt kinda nice drawing some splatoon stuff again, last time was in like december, wich were just doodles, and technically yesterday but that was me making a kirby x splatoon crossover so it doesnt count, so actually last time i did an actual finished drawing for splatoon was the fuzzy neo in november.

Im really hyped up for this, i have played basically just one roguelike in my life (candies n' curses, its fun you should play it too) so i dont have much experience in the genere, but its okay! tho having to restart from floor 1 makes me a bit nervous, wich is funny cuz in candies and curses i also had to restart from floor one yet i kept trying so im not really sure why im worrying, tho it did take me months just to finish the main story in that game, and i want to experience the entierity of side order as blind as i can, maybe thats why. but i managed to avoid magolor epilogue spoilers for a year this might not be that bad.

here's an inverted version i did just for fun.

Aight now i need to talk about the actual drawing, honestly i just sketched something quick with a vague idea of agent 8 with coral growing from them. the real struggle was the background, the colors werent looking nice togheter, it was hard to see what was going on etc, and in the end i decided it would be cool to add images for texture, and that saved it. i used the images from side order's teaser trailer, superimposed over the background and ink. and then i decided to add the side order text to add something, i originally drew some color chips but they looked off in there so i got rid of em

also version without text

btw my birthday is next monday (sobbing rn) this is the third time nintendo releases stuff around my birthday, im so lucky lol

I hope y'all have a nice day

Jambuhbye! :3

[scullysexual]

Spooky Mulder's UFO Club.

After losing a bet, Scully is forced to join Spooky Mulder’s UFO Club. (actually it’s called The Study of Unexplained Phenomena Project, and it’s a class not a club, but whatever) Ridiculed throughout the school by students and staff alike, Scully wants to get it over with as soon as she can and come “back down to earth” when a class trip up to Alaska, to do their own investigations into the mysterious deaths of four hikers, finds them stranded with an unknown virus wreaking havoc and a woods that becomes its own entity at night, Scully realises this dumb little class packs a lot more horror than she bargained for.

---

Based on the Dyatlav Pass Incident, this is an idea that me and one of my friends have had for a while. While this is solely written by myself, I do have her to thank for the idea to turn it into a fic.

Despite having four chapters already written I'm not sure if I'll ever post the rest. If you'd like to see more in the future then please do let me know as that will contribute a lot in my decision.

This fic is a high school au (because I cannot write a normal case file to save my life) It features an Ethan/Scully ship and has brief mentions of bi-polar disorder. I also know nothing about American school or America in general. This is unbetaed but so much fun to write.

@today-in-fic

Why she had agreed to come here, she has no idea. It wasn’t like her presence would be missed if her current situation was anything to go by: stood in the corner of the kitchen, drinking subpar alcohol that tasted more like piss than the fruity cocktail it was supposed to resemble, and being ignored by virtually everyone around her. She should leave, could leave, nobody would stop her…except she didn’t have a car to drive herself home in. Dana rolls her eyes, the anger shimmering in her chest as she revisits the argument she’d only just had with her father before she’d left for the party. Ultimately, he didn’t think she needed one, she had him, her mother, and even BJ to drive her wherever she needed. Dana knew that in actual fact it was so she’d stay under his thumb, know where she was, and more importantly, who she was with. With her own car, she’d be free to go when she liked and her father had made that mistake with her sister: On her seventeenth birthday Melissa had been gifted a car and a year later she’d used it to drive herself down to California to be with her girlfriend without a word said to anyone. How Dana wished her sister had taken her with her.

The worse part of it all, she knew how to drive but after Melissa’s escape it was Dana who had suffered the consequences. Even sharing with BJ was out of the question after a Manic Missy episode had left BJ’s car busted in a ditch. It had been the funds for Dana’s car that had brought BJ his new one. Instead, she relied on Ethan to ferry her around, something she knew he hated.

In fact, Ethan was why she was here, begging her to come to this party because Marcus only turns 18 once and it’s gonna be wild. She had things to do- a Biology test to study for on Monday, and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to take some time out for herself. But Ethan had begged and nagged and perhaps muttered something about having an uncool girlfriend and no, normally she wouldn’t let a comment like that bother her but it had been Ethan who’d said it and Ethan was the one currently keeping her higher up on the high school pecking order than a geeky, ginger, and glasses-wearing girl should be. And so she had caved in, gone to this party at the behest of Ethan only to be ditched within the hour. Where the hell was he anyway?

She finds him in the living room, sat amongst his friends as they try to play beer pong and fail miserably.

“Hey Danes,” Ethan greets when he sees her. “Where’re you been this whole time?”

“Kitchen,” Dana responds and doesn’t elaborate. “Can I talk to you?”

Ethan stares at her when she says no more and fortunately gets the hint.

“Sure,” he says, standing up, wobbling a bit as he does so. He makes an effort to laugh at himself and some of his friends let out a light chuckle as he slowly manoeuvres himself around the furniture, coming towards her.

“Sup?” he asks, leaning against the wall for what Dana assumes is balance. He’s so close to her Dana can smell the same pissy drink she was drinking earlier and takes a step back in disgust.

“I want to go home,” she says plainly.

Ethan chuckles lightly. “Dana, I…” he lets out a huff of air. “I don’t think I can take you home.”

Her stomach drops as she looks at him, eyes glazed over and a stupid grin on his face. Ethan was her only ride home.

“Maybe you could ask someone els3?” Dana scoffs. “Or…or stay. Plenty of people are staying, camp out in a spare room with the girls or something…”

She doesn’t remind him of how little she knows anyone here. “It’s fine,” she says instead. “I’’ll…I’ll just walk it.”

“Dana, I can’t let you walk it.”

“Then I’ll call my dad.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here, remember.”

She stares at him for a moment.

“Could you not sober up?” she asks in a quiet voice.

“Dana…the party’s just started.”

She nods. Got it. No ride home from Ethan tonight.

“Ring this house when you get home, okay?” He starts heading back towards his friends. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I don’t even have-“ But Ethan is gone, back to his beer pong game. “Marcus’ number…” Dana finishes. She watches him one last moment, completely ignoring her as he laughs and plays and takes another gulp of his drink, then she stalks through the crowd and out the front door.

The garden is mostly empty. With the main birthday party happening in the basement and the curtains drawn, no one would be any wiser to a bunch of high schoolers getting drunk inside. Dana sits down on a bench overlooking Marcus’ mini golf course A few stoners and those also unwanted loiter around but they ignore her as much as she ignores them. The only thing on her mind was how was she getting home.

“Marcus would be the prick to have a golf course, wouldn’t he?”

Dana turns around to the source of the voice. There stands a boy she actually recognises; tall, brown hair, sporty. The type of boy every girl (and maybe boy) would whisper about, want, a trophy boyfriend that would get them high place on the pecking order…if only he wasn’t so low himself. His reputation destroys any hope of being popular, of being wanted by any of the significant girls, so much so that Phoebe Green refuses to acknowledge a relationship between the two ever even happened. He is Spooky Mulder to pretty much everyone, a disgrace to the science world of their school, and a joke to everyone else. The sweatshirt he always wears bearing the letters TS0UP is the cause of that damning reputation.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Dana regards him cooly. “I know who you are, Mulder.”

He smiles at that, a smile that would make any girl weak at the knees, but Dana stands strong, watching him with the caution of watching a bear (or a Big Foot, the creature popping into her mind but she banishes that again. What did Big Foot look like anyway?)

They shared a Psychology class together. Dana only took it because she was taking pretty much every other science, may as well tack psychology onto the list as well. Mulder, however, seemed to generally enjoy it, always listening, always doing well in tests. It was his participation that dragged his grades down, though, he never spoke, just listened. Anywhere else and that would have been endearing.

There was another time they’d met each other, however. 6th grade Geography were they had been paired together for a project. There topic was Bashful Peak in Alaska and they had spent weeks building a model of the mountain- weekends and after school spent at Mulder’s house creating it was a very fond memory Dana still had. They had done a presentation on it as well, both received an A+ for their work.

They hadn’t spoken to each other much after that, only a brief smile in the halls. When they got to high school, Dana climbed the ladder as Mulder fell, and they stopped acknowledging each other all together.

“I’m just wondering why you’re here,” Dana questions as kindly as she can. He went to less parties than she did.

Mulder shrugs. “Wanted to see what all the fuss was about, I didn’t get in the front door, though. You, however…” He cocks his head to the side. “I didn’t realise you were best friends with Marcus Shelby.”

At that she can’t help but smile.

“I’m not. Ethan…” She tries to find the words to describe. “Marcus knows of Ethan so…”

“So you got invited as a plus one. But you’re not in there, you’re out here.”

“I’m trying…I want to go home…Ethan…is- was- my ride back and…” She didn’t want to explain to a stranger that she doesn’t have a car.

“But Ethan is passed out somewhere?” Dana doesn’t say otherwise. “I’ll tell you what…” Mulder makes his way into the golf course and grabs hold of a club while still holding his drink in his other hand and holds it out for her. “Get the ball over the fence and beyond the wall, you got yourself a free ride”

Dana eyes the club and the wall nervously. “And if I don’t get it over I lose my ride?”

Mulder smiles. “I’ll still drive you-“ Relief spreads through her. “But…If I get it over you join T-soup.”

The relief vanishes. Her face drops as she eyes up his sweatshirt. Spooky Mulder’s UFO Club is a joke. No self-respecting person would ever go near it and what made it worse was it was, in fact, a class and not a club, a complete waste of school resources. He had to be kidding.

“Why?” she asks.

“Why…?”

“Why do you want me to join?”

Mulder shrugs. “I guess we could use more people who think like you. Makes it interesting.”

“No.” she outright says.

Mulder grins, undeterred. “You better hope I miss then.” He shakes the club in his hand but before Dana can grab it he pulls it back. “Just one more question. You’re not drunk, are you? I wouldn’t want you to be at a disadvantage.”

“I’m not. Are you?”

“Not a drop,” he answers.

Dana regards him. “You’re drinking,” she says, nodding to his cup.

“Orange juice.”

She doesn’t believe him.

“Try it if you don’t believe me.”

She takes the cup from his offered hand, drinking a small sip. It was orange juice. Only orange juice. She hands it back to him.

“Give me the club then.”

At the end of the day, it didn’t matter if she got the ball over the wall, she was getting her part of the deal regardless. She only starts to worry when it’s Mulder’s turn. He places the ball down, lines the club up with it as perfect as he believes it is and hits it. The ball soars over the fence, pass where Dana’s landed, all the way over to the wall.

Her heart sinks as Mulder smiles at her, unable to hide his joy.

“I’ll order you a T-soup sweatshirt as soon as possible.”

This was going to be the end of her.

[yelenasdiary]

~ Blog Update ~

The last blog update for 2023!! A couple of things to go over so as usual this is a lengthy post.

Read or don’t, that’s completely up to you 🥰 I just like to keep you all in the loop.

Requests -

To keep myself from becoming overwhelmed with requests again, I’ll continue to only take 5 at a time. Currently requests are closed but will be opening again soon. I’ll make a post when they’re re-opened x.

If you send a request while they’re closed, I won’t be taking it. I’ll reply to the ask and let you know I’m not currently taking requests and hopefully somebody else can write it for you so if you have an idea that you really want to be written by me, always check to see if MU requests are open. You can do so by looking at my bio.

Tag List -

I’ll be updated my taglist post. Refreshing it & removing accounts that are no longer active. This does mean that you’ll need to request to be on a taglist for a character/celebrity once again.

If you want to be on a taglist, please comment on THIS post.

Fics -

Posting times do not change. Fics will be posted Monday’s & Fridays at 5PM AEDT. For those not in Australia, that’s Sunday & Thursdays.

On Tuesdays & Thursdays I’ll post either a mood board or Headcannon, if I have any. Again for those not in Australia that is Mondays & Wednesdays.

Series -

The only full series I tend to be putting focus on is Forbidden. For now, I have removed the series from my blog so I can work on it. I’ll repost the series once I have bulk saved chapters.

The Third Widow will eventually have an update!! I know I’ve abandoned that series unintentionally, but I will work on getting a final chapter out as soon as I can.

The Widow’s AU will no longer be a thing. I’ll move all content written for that (which is mainly just Yelena x Reader) and place them on my Yelena Masterlist.

I do plan on bringing you a new mini-serious in the coming weeks! I’ll keep you all updated when that’s ready to be posted! (This is the Mafia Boss! Nat x Single Mom! Reader idea I recently shared).

Other -

That’s basically all for the main stuff. So I’m just going to give a friendly reminder that I do work & I do have a social life offline. As much as I love to keep a routine and I try my best to not let you guys down, please remember I’m human, not a robot. Sometimes things come up, I might have to work extra shifts, I might get sick or, I simply don’t feel the need to write. It’s normal, it happens but it’s okay 🥰

One of my close friends from the UK will be coming to Australia to visit me for my birthday in April. He will be here from 21 days, when that time comes I’ll post what you guys can expect fic wise and what not but for now I can not make any promises on anything.

Anywyas, that is all!! Thank you for always being wonderful and allowing me to post my work even if I’m not the most confident when it comes to writing. I hope everybody had a wonderful holiday and I pray this year brings you so much love and happiness 💜