#like a nepo baby at lunch time

[jgnico]

Can't wait for Gojo and Sukuna to go at it looney tunes style now that domain expansion has been taken away from them.

[nine-fingered-entity]

rereading Eragon for the first time in prob 10 yrs and while i am absolutely nostalgia-biased it is legitimately holding up. like. yes, i can tell that it was written by a 14/15 year old, and there are some clunky bits but the writing and story is engaging, its fun, foreshadowing is actually pretty good i think (i've forgotten everything but major plot points) and every once in a while there'll be a paragraph that will hit just the right way emotionally for me. its impressive as hell (he was like 15 when it got published iirc) and i'm enjoying myself very much.

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Geto watching the new assistant the school hired being completely awestruck by you.

Naturally, before this meeting, Suguru had to disclose to the new assistant that you two were once a married couple. The details of your divorce, Suguru chose not to get into. Unfortunately, this information, considering how much the newbie admired him, only served to make you even more fascinating. After all, who could possibly be worthy enough to marry - and eventually separate from - Suguru Geto?

"--or so the Inspector General says." Suguru catches the tail end of your explanation regarding an unusual amount of cursed spirits in a concentrated area. He may or may not have spaced out for the last minute of you talking, but at least the assistant, though lacking subtlety, has been taking diligent notes.

The assistant, a young man a few years younger than you and Suguru, somewhere in his mid-twenties, looks up at you in awe.

"The Inspector General speaks to you directly?" he asks. "You must be amazing at your job."

The Jujutsu Inspector General. The high commander of all jujutsu society, the highest of the higher ups. Yes, he spoke with you often.

Suguru fights the urge to roll his eyes when you preen. You're no stranger to praise whatsoever, but you did love basking in everyone's admiration.

"Flatterer," you respond.

"No, I mean it!" the assistant insists. "The report you sent us was so detailed! It was flawless! You're really talented."

"Aw, thank you! Was my report up to your standards, Suguru?" You turn to your ex-husband.

"Sure," Suguru scoffs.

The meeting continues on without much more incident. You've only just given them the supplemental documents when you check the time.

"Looks like that's all the time I have for now. Feel free to contact me if you need anything else." You stand and incline your head to them both, a gesture they return.

"Nice to meet you," you tell the newbie. To your ex-husband, you say, "Bye, Suguru!" and blow him a kiss. Suguru makes a gesture like he's swatting away a mosquito.

As they leave, the assistant nearly runs into the door frame in his eagerness to keep fawning over you, and Suguru feels like his soul's trying to climb out of his body.

Then again, that is the effect you tended to have on people. There were times when you were married when the both of you went to an event, your lethal face cards alone could get people to drop their drinks.

You smile and the assistant blushes. "Someday, we'll all meet for a nice lunch. I wish I could today, but I have a meeting with my father," you tell them with a wave, wiggling your fingers and the poor thing looks like he's about to devote himself to your every desire.

Suguru, however, has been there, done that. "Let's go." He grabs the assistant by the collar and tries to drag him out as fast as possible. If he could teleport out of here like Satoru, he would.

"Geto, sir," the assistant says, eyes never leaving your office door. "You were married to that woman? Isn't she just stunning? She's incredible! How could you ever have let her go?"

To each statement: Yes. Yes. I know. You'd be surprised.

"It's much more complicated than that," Suguru grumbles.

Suguru throws open the door to the hallway just to run into two men in suits. Behind them is their employer whom Suguru knows all too well, and behind him, another set of bodyguards.

"Suguru," the man greets lowly.

"Inspector General, sir." Suguru bows respectfully while the assistant nearly bashes his head on the floor in his haste.

"If you'll excuse me, I have business with my daughter," the Inspector General says. The two move right out of the way and watch as the entourage heads into your office.

It takes the assistant a moment to compute, but by the choked sound he eventually makes, it's clear that he's begun to comprehend just how complicated your marriage was.

I promise I haven't abandoned Sen and his family! I just wanted a little break/practice in Geto x Nepo Baby!MC and the much pettier divorce where I have free reign for them to be more problematic towards each other without having to worry about how horrible it would be for their child to have to witness it

[Masterlist] | Tag for this AU is #geto's nepo ex

[dear-ao3]

hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move

nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:

-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)

-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together

-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)

-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.

-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming

-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.

-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.

-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton

-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.

-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)

-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver

-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.

more after i get off work :)

[berzahoes]

moments | tom blyth

summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)

an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼

ON SET OF BILLY THE KID

since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).

“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.

“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”

“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.

“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”

“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”

“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.

eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.

“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.

“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.

“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.

“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.

the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.

“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.

then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.

“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.

“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.

before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.

LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY

it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.

“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.

“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.

tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.

“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.

“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”

“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.

“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.

“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.

eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.

KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL

“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.

“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.

“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.

“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.

“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.

“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.

“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”

“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.

the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.

“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.

“is tom blyth single?”

the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.

“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.

“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.

“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”

[remotewatch]

can’t hit it one time, multiple

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.9k wc

minors dni but still get involved and stay informed politically let me be clear

summary: volunteering is so rewarding! being a part of a cause you believe in, educating first time voters, getting dicked by the campaign’s eye candy on your lunch break; it’s got everything!

cws: shameless classic 1D style smut, bus rocking, wrap it before you tap it on THE Harris campaign reproductive freedom bus (is it legally actionable to call it by its govt name), whatever the hell is going on with the JD videos cranked up to 100, reader calls him both diva and a slut, both not totally serious, his tripod is your wingman, this Barbie tastes like clementines, semi public sex I GUESS, sub!jack SOMEWHAT

many thanks to my editor (and co-writer this time around) @mystardustmelodyyy for the organizing and romantic flair 🩵🗳️

additional thanks to Jack and the team for the inspirational Philly content, do keep it up !!

Although your day of volunteering had been nothing terribly exciting so far- setting up chairs, guiding people to their seats, a LOT of directing lost families to the bathroom- the whole town hall was thrumming with a sense of hope that felt nothing short of electric. You didn’t realize how busy you’d been until you finally got a chance to sit down and make up some gift bags. That took no time at all, leaving you a nice free chunk of the day to wander around and soak up the atmosphere. There had been rumors of a free gelato truck, and the empty breezeway pointed to them being true. The sharp thwap of sambas slapping onto marble snapped you out of your daydreaming; almost empty, apparently.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted the source of the racket: America’s most polarizing nepo baby. Filming… a stunt of some kind? He takes a running start into a front flip, landing close enough to his tripod to throw it off balance. After repositioning it and trying again, his shoes slip in a puddle on the floor, forcing him to splay out a hand to avoid falling onto his ass.

You were well aware of Jack’s work; your feed was convinced you were precisely his target demo and had been pushing his content onto you since July. Maybe it wasn’t totally off base. Regardless, watching him struggle to land a perfect somersault was much more endearing than the finished videos. When he stands up for a third attempt and manages to tangle a tripod foot up with his pants in the process, you’re unable to suppress a fit of giggles.

“Are you winning over there, diva?”

Jack looks a bit sheepish when he first glances up but recovers quickly. He adjusts the tripod and hits you with the same smile your algorithm insists makes you weak.

“I think it’s still too close to call.”

“Did you want some help with the…whatever it is you’re recording?”

One of the tripod legs abruptly gives out, the clatter echoing around the breezeway. Jack winces and nudges the fallen hunk of fiberglass with his shoe.

“Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind.” Five long strides over to you and he’s pressing his phone into your hands, camera already open. “If you’d just follow- well, you saw what I was trying to do.”

You can’t say if it’s the pressure of a live audience of him being fed up with his previous attempts, but Jack flips perfectly into frame this time, proceeds immediately to an immaculate standing backflip, then takes off towards the other end of the breezeway without so much as glancing at the camera. He leaps up and clicks his heels a few steps in, only turning around when you’re starting to wonder if he’s just ditching the shoot altogether.

“How was that?” He shouts on his way back over.

“Looks good!” You have no earthly idea what he was going for, but it fits right in with the absurdist athletic vibe he’s been rocking with between his more overt political content.

“Aw, that’s great. Thank you!” he beams at you after looking over the footage (you try not to focus on how small the phone looks in his hands). “The lighting is perfect too.”

“Oh, good!” Thank god. “Did you need help with anything else?”

Jack rolls his eyes mischievously like he's considering letting you in on a huge secret. “I was actually going to film a thing or two for JD if you’ve got an extra minute.”

“For that? Absolutely!”

His grin stretches wider to match yours at that response, and you realize you’re smiling at each other like two idiots.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

He repeats your name back after you introduce yourself, and you wish he’d do it again so you can keep watching his lips move saying it.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

This time, Jack gives you slightly more direction, guiding you to hold the phone at an angle just high enough to skew provocative as he leisurely strolls backwards through the hallway. You don’t need to coach him into angling his head just right to catch the afternoon sun in his eyes; he’s got the bambi look down pat.

“JD, I really miss you. Won’t you come home so we can be a family again?” He motions just out of frame for you to aim higher, but you’re already adjusting the shot before you see his signal. “You said I shouldn’t be voting because I’m not a dad like you. Is that true, JD? Or are you making up stories again?”

Jack glances backward to check if there’s enough room for him to keep up his pace, then breaks for a second to ask “Alright, one more?” The two octave difference almost makes you drop his phone, but you keep it together and nod.

His eyes crinkle up adorably when he smiles. “Sweet.” Then he’s back to business, eyefucking the camera like he just got out of prison.

“JD, I thought you knew everything, and you told me that I should never lie. How am I supposed to trust you if I don’t know when you're telling a story or not?”

You stick your bottom lip out and mouth “more”; he happily obliges. Jack looks every bit the foxy little public servant as he peers out at the lens from under his eyelashes.

“Can you help me understand, JD? I want to understand. I just need a little help. Can you show me?” Christ, he’s practically purring. Thankfully, he snaps back to director mode before you can get too lost in the rhythm.

“You think that was too much?”

“I think you could do a little more, to be really honest.”

His eyes narrow knowingly. “How so?”

“...You could go down on your knees.” You’re half joking at the most and still think you’ve crossed a line, but sure enough, he’s kneeling down and crossing his ankles like it couldn’t come more naturally to him.

He’s still plenty tall enough to bite your pant zipper, and you quickly shove the thought aside.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, perfect, just like that.”

This time, he might as well be on mute for all the words you’re processing. It’s all slow blinking doe eyes, curls bouncing with every emphatic head tilt, his tongue stretching out to wet his lips between sentences. The “Can you show me?” rocks straight through you and breaks the spell when Jack glances up at you. His expression shifts from mockingly innocent to coquettish for just a scorching, enduring moment, then he’s back on his feet, back to the bubbly, personable demeanor you’d expect from him.

“Thank you again for the help. She was NOT playing nice today.” he nods back at the tripod.

“Oh, it’s no problem! I love your work.” He waves a hand modestly.

“I love your work! You actually came out here and helped! It’s so much more important than what I do. Is this your first event?”

“It is! It’s my first time.”

“Well, we love first timers around here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” The implication hits you a beat too late, so you pad it with a restrained “It’s really interesting to see the behind the scenes of it all.”

Jack rocks back on his heels, his eyebrows drawing up playfully.

“Have you seen the bus?”

“Of course I’ve seen the bus!”

“No, I meant the inside of it. Did you want to see that?” He allows himself the forwardness of a head tilt.

What else could you say?

“Yeah, I really would.”

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Bless the gelato truck, because there’s not a trace of human activity on this side of the building. You’re barely paying attention to the formality of a tour Jack’s giving; his enthusiasm is adorable, but the way his fingers spread as he’s pointing out every feature in the bus is making your mind wander.

“Shoes on or off?” you manage to ask.

“Oh, whatever you want. We’re not strict.” Off, then. “As you can see, this is where the magic happens.”

Once you get to the middle of the bus, the combination of campaign paraphernalia and scattered phone chargers, melatonin gummies, and cold brew cans feels like you’re getting a peek into something thrilling. There’s a map of tour stops tacked up with current polling results on a small whiteboard to the side. It’s close, but no doubt doable. You’re so swept up that you nearly smack your head on an open cabinet door when you turn back to face your host. His hand shifts back along its edge to cushion the impact before you can think to duck, and the heat from it makes your cheek tingle.

“Careful, it’s tight in here!” he teases.

It’s hard to shake the feeling of trespassing.

“Are you sure I’m good to be here?” Jack turns back from replenishing half empty swag baskets to smile reassuringly.

“No one needs it until one. When do you have to get back?”

“My break ends at one thirty.”

“I guess it’s our bus, then!” He fetches you a sparkling water from the minifridge and cracks open his own like he owns the place. You elect to remain standing and lean against one of the chairs opposite, certainly not because you want to have him looking up at you for as long as possible.

Jack is all long limbs and tanned striations as he stretches out on the bench seat like a cat, his wingspan nearly spanning its whole length. When he arches slightly to get comfortable, his shirt catches under his pecs and makes your mouth go dry. You wonder if you’re staring too much.

“So, do you have any other directing experience, or do you just have a knack for giving orders?” His head lolls to one side, soaking up your attention. One of his feet moseys it’s way over to you, and you uncross your ankles before it has a chance to nudge them in that direction.

“I think you’re just good at taking them.” Is that a blush you’re seeing? Jack breaks into a giggle that reads almost wistful.

“I was expecting you to tell me to roll over and balance a treat on my nose.”

“Anything for the campaign, right?”

“I mean, of course, but it's still those day to day interactions that are going to win this for us.”

“Yeah, the canvassing especially is really rewarding, I didn’t expect this many people to be undecided. I guess some of them still need a little convincing.” You plop down next to him, closer than you’d ever dare if he wasn’t flushed clear down to his shirt collar. Somehow, your right leg finds itself intertwined with his. He’s a fucking furnace, even directly under the AC unit.

“Not me though; I know exactly what I want to do.”

The corners of Jack’s mouth curl up without a shred of hesitation. He squints at you again before taking a slow pull of his Perrier, Adam’s Apple bobbing like it's begging you to bite it. His middle fingertip trails lazily around the rim as he sets it down. One last lip smack, then he’s pressing them onto yours and flooding your nose with the smell of clementines and sea salt.

The buzzing in your brain reaches a fever pitch when he drapes an arm around your waist to pull you closer. Tilting your head ever so slightly, your hand wanders up to cradle his face and press a thumb to his chin. A gentle push down to open Jack’s mouth and his tongue is snaking its way in, the obscene length of it sending sparks straight down to your clit. He breathes a contented, relieved moan into your mouth when your leg swings over his hips to straddle him, then little stilted mewls as you start rocking back and forth.

“You’re a little slut for democracy aren’t you? You tease, panting against his jawline.

“Who, me?” he grins and drags his hands up your thighs to settle on your ass, thumbs playing with your waistband.

You can feel your nipples hardening as you reach one hand out to steady yourself against the window. The bracing cold glass is delicious, but you flinch back when you spot people trickling back into view, gelato cups in hand, a few racing over to pose with the bus.

“Don’t worry; they can’t see you,” he chuckles along your sternum. Jack scooches too far forward trying to get a better angle to rut against you and nearly slides you both off the seat. You hear a whispered little “oh, shit,” before he scoops you up with one arm and shifts to stand, the other grabbing a spare water on his way to the rear of the bus. He collapses onto the deep sofa without missing a beat, but looks back up at you for reassurance, as if he’s somehow being presumptuous. You don’t even see it; you’re too busy yanking at his jeans like a madwoman after feeling how hard he is.

Concerns assuaged, he manages to pull both of your pants off without incident, only an accidental kick to the end table. Jack lets out a cackle when his hand slides low enough to feel you drip down his wrist.

“And I’m the slut for democracy?”

“Oh, shut up!”

You stretch behind him to the bin of condoms marked ‘F•CK PROJECT 2025’ on the far windowsill, shamelessly letting your breasts drag over his face in the process.

“It would really be a shame if we didn’t do some quality control, since we’re already here.” You trace one along his lips until they part to accept your gift.

“Such a waste,” Jack mimics you, if a bit muffled, as his incisors shred the foil wrapper. “And,” he adds cheekily with a shrug, “we’re fresh out of plan B.”

He’s already slid it on by the time you realize he’s unclipped your bra somewhere between here and the door, and you waste absolutely no time slipping him inside, so warm it makes you shudder. His eyelids flutter when you sit down fully; he’s whining like the bus is soundproof the second you get to work, all strained little whimpers and cut off syllables as you bounce in his lap. There’s not a minute to waste, and it’s showing in the breakneck pace you set. Jack’s movements are just as frantic, bucking up hard enough to threaten to throw you straight off this ride.

Desperate to see how far down he blushes, you slide your arms under his shirt, heat blooming up to your shoulders as you do. He gets your hint and tugs it off; you waste no time planting both hands on his pecs and letting your fingers run wild through his chest hair.

Meanwhile, your shirt and bra get caught on your elbow in the process of shedding them, and your left knee skids right off the couch while you’re distracted. Jack catches your shin effortlessly and plants his foot to keep his balance; you actually spot him smiling at his own reflexes. He rolls you both over without slipping out, chuckling a little “didn’t I tell you to be careful?” into your ear. He moves to let your leg down, and you throw it over his shoulder to keep him pinned flat against you before he can do so. The new angle restricts his range a bit, but he’s already shoving a hand down to strum at your clit, face millimeters from yours for the perfect view of just how much you’re loving it. He murmurs cockily when he sees you holding back. “Won’t you let me hear you?” There’s no way you’ll attract attention if you’re just moaning into his mouth, right?

It’s all too much; Jack’s whole body draped over you like a fever that won’t break, the way he’s panting down your throat every time you clamp around him, the little calluses on his occupied fingertips and how they maintain their perfect, unbearable pace no matter how much you thrash around. You can barely squeak out a “fuck, Jack, please-,”

His “I know, I know,” sounds just as ragged and that tips you right over the edge.

Jack’s composure completely unravels with the first pulse. His eyes screw shut and his hips still as deep as he can get to ride it out with you. You’re shaking and frothing like a can of Pepsi- sweet and sticking all along his slicked-flat happy trail as you lift your leg a little higher and over the back of his neck to pull him in closer. The beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto yours when he falls into another messy kiss, aftershocks buzzing comfortably through you both.

His phone timer jolts you out of your shared stupor.

“What is that?”

“12:30,” he groans into the couch cushion. “Sit tight, I’ll get you a towel.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Jack is steaming your dress pants in one sock and his Hanes like its second nature, and it’s making a strong case for the hottest thing he could possibly do. In a few minutes, he’ll go out the front of the bus and stir up the crowd while you exit through the back.

“Take a bev for the road if you’d like.” He slaps the minifridge pointedly.

“Thanks, you’re such a good host!” you hadn’t moved from where you were laid out on the sofa; it was too much fun watching him get flustered from the compliment, “This was fun, getting to know you and all.”

“Yeah it was,” his tone is achingly sincere as he smiles back at you, face getting flushed all over again “...Not to be too bold, but could I get your number?”

[starkwlkr]

Hi!! Can we have headcanons for all of the Jackman babies?

of course you can lovely anon 😘🫶🏼

alex

so he’s the firstborn and it’s canon that he was born in the year 2000 simply because i am so bad with dates (plus that’s the year my sister was born so it’s easy for me to remember)

he once told a girl at his school that his dad was wolverine to try to impress her and she didn’t believe him so he made hugh pick him up from school for a week even though he had his own car

he’s a big fan of horror movies, his favorite horror directors are mike flanagan and wes craven

he enjoys musicals every now and then though he’ll never admit it to anyone

him and reese are only two years apart so they attended school together for a few years. instead of ignoring reese, they would sit together at lunch and even had a few classes together.

he doesn’t go into acting like people expected him to. he goes to college and studies architecture (thank you to the anon that suggested this!!)

reese

my sweet middle child 🫶🏼

so he was very quiet and awkward in high school and his friend group was small. the only time he really talked was if he was with his friends/alex or if he was called on to answer a question

during parents teacher conferences, his teachers told you and hugh that the only complaint they had about reese was that he was too quiet and needed to participate. of course you got mad because if reese doesn’t want to participate then he doesn’t need to!!

dr. pepper lover i said what i said

his school didn’t have a film club so he made one with his friends and the first film they watched was chicago because why wouldn’t he want to show off how talented his mom is?? bonus: you attend one of their gatherings and talk about the production of the movie ☺️

btw if you didn’t read the other fic where i mentioned chicago the musical, it’s canon that marvel actress!reader plays roxie <3

he’s a big momma’s boy

his dream is to be a director and make a movie with you and hugh as the leads but he’s scared that the media is going to say that he only got the opportunity because he’s a nepo baby

his idols are marilyn monroe and his mom ❤️

his comfort movie is the muppets movie

olivia

olivia my queen 🫶🏼 so she is not afraid to tell it like it is

she’s close in age to dafne keen so they become best friends on the set of logan and have been ever since <3 of course dafne ended up becoming an honorary member of the jackman family

she follows in her parents’ footsteps and becomes an actress. she really doesn’t care if people call her a nepo baby, she knows she is 💅🏼

her first role was an A24 movie (of your choice) and she was going press interviews when deadpool & wolverine came out so she was asked a lot about the movie, mostly if she was in it

she was the valedictorian of her graduating class and included logan’s last words in her speech: “i’ve watched my brother, cousins and friends graduate and now it’s my turn. so this is what it feels like.”

have y’all seen the pic of romy mars, sofia coppola’s daughter, on the set of priscilla and jacob elordi is bringing her cake and singing happy birthday to her?? well olivia took some inspiration from romy and was on set of the new avengers movie that marvel actress!reader is directing and pedro pascal ended up being her cake and singing happy birthday to her 🤭

here’s the pic lol

ok that’s all for now <3 thanks for sticking around!! love y’all ☺️😘

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @ru-kru @evasmlp

[beechu-beechu]

Okay i must know! How did Cece and Roman meet? What’s their backstory?

I like to play around with the idea that they're childhood friends! I've said that Cecilia is also a nepo baby who comes from wealth so her family definitely has ties to the Roys.

They met at some fancy Gala Lunch and were introduced to each other so they could hang out and leave the adults to do their business and she had a pet rabbit, Banana, with her. Banana got spooked and ran off, it caused a bit of a ruckus at the party and Roman got in deep trouble getting her back. It was there where she also got to witness Logan's temper for the first time

She was really quiet and shy at first so he was surprised to see her babble so much after the fact. Maybe it's the only way she knew how to deal with seeing witnessing something so intense..? Either way, she finally met her first friend outside of Banana! <33

Tysm for the ask!! <33 means so much to me!! Anyway, tfw youre at a friend's house and their parents scold them right in front of you

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ YOUR FLOOR'S BETTER THAN MY BED

reo mikage x gender neutral!reader — oneshot.

humor. implied romance. slight tension (if you squint). more of a character exploration.

you and reo mikage were two sides of the same coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe.

— aka, you're a broke mf, surviving on a scholarship, and you find it fun bothering the rich kid in school.

note. wrote this bc i'm actually so broke right now lmfao. i ain't eating breaky and lunch tomorrow hahaha life is so great as a broke college student! 10/10 would not recommend : )

When you hear the name “Mikage” the only thing that comes to mind is money. Call it a stereotypical mindset, but it doesn’t matter because everyone thinks of the same thing as you anyway. You don’t even bother to alter the way you perceive the name either.

Fuck being unique and all that, but really, who can blame you when you’re lacking in that department. The thing that makes the world go round and makes the eyes of people go green whether with envy or whether they’re on the greener side of the grass. Doesn’t matter. It’s the thing that keeps your life at the edge of being “fine” and falling off a steep, brittle cliff to poverty.

Money.

You wonder what it’s like to have an excess amount of it.

“Yo, Mikage,” You wink, sending him finger guns as you pass by his usual seat in the near-empty library.

The infamous Mikage Reo that always had an accommodating smile on his face catches a glimpse of you, and instantly, his lilac irises dulls.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Why so glum?” You cock your head to the side, taking the seat right beside him, legs spread wide and elbow leaning against the backrest of the seat.

You lack the air of dignity that most students inhale in this place like crack. It fogs their senses all the same anyway, and clouding their ability to judge. They get caught up in the image too much that they forget that pictures aren’t alive nor do they breathe. And maybe that’s why they don’t like you. “They” including Mikage.

“You’re probably here to shamelessly ask for money again. And I’m already saying this: no.” He grumbles, pressing his cheek against his palm, gazing into your eyes flatly.

Welp. It’s not like you put in the effort to be likable anyway. Understandable.

“Aw,” You pretend to pout in disappointment. “Worth a shot.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Hah?” You raise your brow at his question.

“Have you gone deaf? I said, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’” He repeats, narrowing his eyes at you.

Truthfully, you heard him the first time. It was just funny to see him annoyed. No picture-perfect genius Reo Mikage. No giant nepo-baby Mikage. He’s just an annoyed Reo.

“I always got better things to do.” You shrug before eyeing him with a raised brow, grinning lazily. “Unlike you.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?!” He stands up from his chair.

Surprisingly, he has a very short fuse for someone who can handle everyone's bullshit.

“Hey, hey, kid,” You raise your hand up in surrender, speaking to him as if he wasn’t the same age or probably even a year older than you. “Relax, I was joking. Sit down.”

With a sigh, he takes a seat again, although the glare was still intact on his face. He grumbles quietly, but it was surely meant to be heard by you with the way he eyes you as he does so. “Don’t ‘kid’ me. At least I don’t waste my time asking people for money.”

“I’m always kidding, Mikage.” You snort at his words, waving your hand dismissively. “Even if you gave me money, I still wouldn’t accept it. What makes you think I’d take stuff from your hands?”

You wrinkle your nose, pretending to eye his hands with distaste. From the corner of your eyes you see him look offended once again and you hold back the urge to cackle.

Being born loved and admired by the people around him—repeatedly hearing songs of praises like he’s some sort of messiah—made him clueless towards teasing and jabs.

“I’m very clean, thank you very much! I’ll have you know that I wash my hands with only the best antibacterial hand wash imported from Italy. What about you?!” He blurts out angrily, bumping the side of his fist against his table.

“Exactly.” You shrug.

You see the anger melt away from his features before it is replaced with confusion.

“You and I,” You lean closer to him and you know he can smell the cheap fruity cologne wafting off the fabric of your imitation uniform. Hakuho was expensive even for scholarship students. “We’re from different worlds, Mikage. And it’s not your fault nor is it mine, because that’s just how it is.”

He turns quiet at this, seemingly mulling your words over inside his head as he eyes the floor blankly.

You tilt your head, releasing a short and awkward laugh. Think you might have made the air too serious. It must be your lunch, or, well, lack thereof. You don’t usually bring the topic (of your lack of money) up with other people, but his question provided you with the opportunity to do so. You took it all too eagerly (carelessly) and it in turn killed the typical playful nature of your not-so-friendship.

“Uh, sorry ‘bout that. For killin’ the mood.” You laugh awkwardly, patting his shoulder. “Uh…”

“What’s it like?” He turns to you suddenly, tilting his head.

“Uh, what’s what like?” You furrow your brows.

“Having no money.”

“Woah, woah, ya didn’t have to phrase it like that!” You joke, crossing your arms and leaning back against your chair with huff.

“N-No, I didn’t mean it like—” He began, glaring at nothing in defense before you cut him off.

“Kidding.” You wave your hand. “You gotta learn how to remove that stick up your ass. I promise you, it feels great.”

He wrinkles his nose in disgust at your choice of words. He’s probably thinking that you lack tact or class.

“You lack class.” He states in distaste.

Knew it.

“Yeah, anyways.” You think over his question for a bit. “Well, I can’t really explain it.”

His lilac eyes dulls as he stares at you flatly once again. “Hah. What a waste of time asking, then.”

“I got an idea though.” You lean closer, grinning lazily as you prop your elbow on top of his side of the table and pressing your cheek against your palm. His face engulfs your perceptions and you can see the non-existent pores on his skin.

Fuck him, his money, and his skin care routine.

“What.” He leans back slightly, raising his brow.

“Come with me later after class. Let’s eat dinner.”

A puff of air escapes his lips as he laughs at your suggestion. A few seconds later, it transforms into full-blown laughing. Each laugh that escapes his lips comes from deep within his diaphragm.

You stare at him expectantly and a little creeped out. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him laugh like that with anyone in your entire life in Hakuho.

“What?” You ask, still spooked.

“Didn’t know you liked me like that,” He smirks, leaning his face closer, breath brushing against your cheek. “If you wanted to ask me to dinner, you could’ve just said so.”

You could smell the slight mint and it tells you that he had just brushed. Figures. Of course he’d bring a toothbrush to school. Of course he actually brushes his teeth during breaks and not spend it fucking around doing nothing unlike you.

“Stop being delusional.” Your face turns blank at his words and you sit properly again. “Anyways, you said you wanted to know what it’s like, right? Come with me later then. We’ll eat what I usually eat for dinner.”

His face turns intrigued. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll know.”

“What is this place?” You hear Reo raise his voice over the surging crowd of people. He had a black mask over his face to hide it from the people because, yeah, he was actually kind of like a celebrity. An A-list individual among A-lists, coming just below his parents and it clearly shows with the Gucci bag he’s sporting.

Now that you think about it…

You eye his bag. “Flip your bag over, Mikage.”

“Huh? Why?”

You point to the pockets of his bag exposed out. “You’ll get unknowingly robbed that way. Flip your bag— okay, yep, nice. Very good.”

He rolls his eyes at your childish praise as he removes his bag to flip it, the pockets now hidden from the public’s view.

“Oh, yeah, we’re eating street food.” You point to the row of street vendors covering the sidewalks. Each stand glows yellow from the string of lights attached onto their walls and the strong smell of varieties of food mixes together in an almost unbearable manner.

You eye the rich kid beside you. He seems to shift a little, standing awkwardly and a little out of place.

You reach out to hold onto the side of his arm. “You good?”

He glances at you and looks back at the stalls as well as the crowd of people he mostly towered over. He doesn't shove away your hand. “Yeah. It’s just my first time in this sort of place.”

You blink at this, intrigued. “What? Really? Well, we gotta eat a lot, then. Your treat.”

He doesn’t protest when you begin tugging him towards the nearest Takoyaki stall.

“Ten pieces, please.” You tell the street vendor, beginning to pull out your wallet. A larger hand stops you from doing so and you glance at Reo to see him already pulling out his wallet.

“How much?” Reo asks.

The vendor eyes your classmate for a few seconds and then the Gucci bag. You hold back a groan. Ugh, you already know where this is going.

“1000 yen.” The vendor answers him, his face seemingly unsure.

Just before Reo could unknowingly pay the tricky vendor, you hold onto his hand, preventing him from taking out his cash.

“What are you—”

“That’s overpriced.” You cut in, eyeing the vendor flatly, feeling disappointed at his shitty attempt to scam people. “I ate here yesterday and it was only 500 yen for ten pieces. You mean to say that you’re charging double now? Do inflation rates shoot up that high in a span of one day?”

At least the vendor looks ashamed. He brings a hand up to the back of his neck awkwardly before bowing. “Sorry. Money’s tight and I thought it was worth a shot.”

You chuckle at this, handing the vendor the sufficient amount. “Been there, done that. To him too. But don’t go scamming other people, ‘kay? Now gimme our order.”

Once you take the order, you tug Reo away from the stall to head over to somewhere with less people. You lean back against the wall and open the container filled with Takoyaki and raise it up to his face.

“Smells good, right?” You watch as he takes the container from your hands and inspects the food curiously. He brings it up close to his face, gazing at the array of colors from the bonito flakes, to the mayo, to the sauce, and to the golden brown Takoyaki.

“It doesn’t look that different from the gourmet Takoyaki I’ve eaten.” He comments, taking a pair of chopsticks before eating an entire ball. As he chews, you see his eyes widen and he immediately begins to devour another Takoyaki just as he had swallowed the previous one.

“Good, right?” You grin cheekily.

He ignores you in exchange for devouring another large piece.

“Hey, leave me some too!”

You took him to different stalls after that, and by the time 8PM rolled around, both of you were already stuffed full with different kinds of food. You can’t remember the last time you had ever eaten to the point where you felt like your pants were going to burst open at the seams.

You eye the empty paper plates and containers laying haphazardly on the plastic table you both found. There were a little less people now. You draw in a breath, the air now lacking the sharp scent it previously held as you had submerged yourself in its presence.

It was nice. You also can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten a meal with someone like this. Having deadbeat parents that spent more time smoking crack out where you don’t know ultimately meant that meals were eaten alone. And, you admit, sharing meals wasn’t bad at all.

Reo heaves out a deep sigh, rubbing his stomach after releasing a quiet (and somehow dignified) burp. “I ate too much. Too much unhealthy food. My diet is ruined.”

You snort at this. “Relax, princess. I promise you’re still pretty.”

He glares at you. “Not what I meant.”

“Uhuh, whatever you say.” You chuckle before trailing off, watching him for a few seconds. You can see him shifting in place again at the length of your stare, seemingly burning holes into the side of your face.

“If you have something to say just say it.” He grumbles out, crossing his arms with a raise of his brow.

“Well, did it answer your question?” You ask curiously.

He looks up at the dark sky for a second before glancing back at you. “Well, the food was good. And cheaper.”

You shake your head at his obliviousness and chuckle. “Uhuh, but the food we ate today? That’s typically how much I eat in a span of one week. You get it now?”

He blinks and goes silent for a few seconds again.

“Don’t you get hungry, though?” He asks after a short while.

You shrug. “You get used to it.”

“It’s not sustainable though. How are you still alive?” He cockshis head, now looking at you with a slight furrow on his brows. If he was worried, then you were flattered.

“Not sure.” You shake your head. “I still do try to get my vegetables in but fresh produce is expensive. Healthy food is expensive. Some people just don’t have a choice, you know?”

“Oh.”

You don’t think it has sunken inside his brain yet. You can’t and won’t blame him. He’s lived his life that he’s used to just like you're living yours. You were two sides of a single coin—two people living entirely different lives within the same planes of this globe. Both built differently and built to handle different things.

“But I’m also curious now, too.” You hum after a while, eyeing him in slight interest.

“About what?”

“What does it feel like to live yours?” You cock your head.

You see him grin and your eyes squints a little at this.

"Maybe we can go to my place next."

[ynbabe]

for a request: american motogp rider or bullrider!reader whos from the south x logan sargeant. i’m picturing a male reader but it can be fem 🫶

I've chosen Bullrider! Reader but I don't know jack shit about it lmao 😭

Southern hospitality ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x Male!Reader

Miami GP was good luck for Logan. It was almost like the car and track knew it was his home, he felt faster, stronger, and better on that track but it might also have been the looming threat of losing his job. The constant questioning of his talent and hard work.

He was also totally ignoring the mess that was his personal life, not that he had much outside of F1.

"Knock Knock," Someone tapped his head and declared with a smile in his voice.

"Wh- Alex?" He looked up at his teammate who sheepishly but not apologetically smiled back, skin pink from the sun.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked stealing Logan's 'panic spot' behind the motor home where he was leaning on some old tyres, though any spot could be a panic spot if Logan walked in.

This time he was nudged out of his head, "You're doing it again," he stated, a soft look too close to pity for comfort in his eyes.

"Nah man nothing much, home race and all you know?" He lied and Alex looked least convinced but they were both interrupted by the door opening.

"Hey guys, we've got some PR stuff to do," someone from the team announced. Of course, he was definitely gonna have to skip lunch today as well.

He kept replying to Alex's chatting, still convinced the older man suspected he was lying. He was okay, why wouldn't he be?

"O-oh my god," Alex interrupted himself and pushed an arm in front of Logan, making the blonde boy stop in his tracks confused. "Is that a real-life cowboy?" He all but screamed making Logan look around till he spotted a tanned man with y/h/c hair wearing a leather cowboy hat.

As they reached closer they could hear the thick southern accent the man had, around him were a few of the mechanics, some taking photos and others staring intently at his face or rather his chiselled chest that could be seen through the half-open white shirt the man wore.

"What the fuck?" For the first time in a long time, Logan's mind was clear.

"Logan, stop drooling, I get it but we're in public," Alex chastised, laughing while he pushed the both of them ahead.

Now Logan prided himself on being a mature guy, even as a kid everyone told him so, so why was he pulling and jumping over Alex like a teenage boy trying to show off in front of this really really attractive stranger?

The stopped just as they reached you, Alex's Pr manager was standing there already, looking annoyed at the two for being late.

"Y/n," He called the man who excused himself and walked over to where they were standing, "Logan, Alex, this is Y/n L/n our celebrity guest for Miami,"

The man in front of him laughed, his y/e/c eyes crinkling as he did.

“Now I wouldn’t say celebrity, but thank you sir,” he commented and the older man nodded, a stricter nod was given to Logan and Alex but both chose to ignore that.

They walked towards a shaded area, Y/n leading them, “Now I would say y’all are the real celebrities, drivin’ those cars at a million miles,” his voice (the accent) raised the hair at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Hahaha, thank you so much, so what do you do?” Alex asked, which made Logan glare at man, that was such a rude question! He could be a nepo-baby, it’s America Alex!

“Oh, I’m a bull rider,” he answered and suddenly Logan was chocking on air, it’s not his fault his brain was disgusting! “You okay, Sargeant,” the man, the literal bull rider had placed a hand on his shoulder and was asking him- wait what the fuck? Logan was a grown man, why is he acting like a teenage girl with a crush?

He straightened up, trying to clear his throat, “bull rider, huh,” he pointed to the hat, making the man smile, a slight blush spreading across his features.

“All a part of the brand, stole it from a teammate and it stuck,” he made a pained expression, half joking.

“Do you know J.B. Mauney?” Alex asked, reminding Logan that he was still there.

"Oh Lord," Y/n laughed, "He's my teammate," now it was Alex's turn to swoon.

"Really? Oh my God, he's so cool! My for you page is filled with his edits!" Alex told the man in front of him and the second-hand embarrassment Logan felt could have killed him only Alex didn't seem embarrassed at all, in fact, he was doubling down on the simp parade.

"Between you an' I, I had a pretty darn big crush on that man too," he confessed, winking at Logan. "I think you boys need to get goin' now but how bout we catch lunch? I heard they don't feed you good round here," Logan turned around and saw someone call for them and missed the way Alex looked between the two men standing significantly closer together than needed.

"Unfortunately, I've got a little lunch date with Lily," Alex feigned sadness but smiled wide.

Y/n turned to the blonde, raising a brow to which Logan couldn't help but nod yes.

As they walked away, Logan still reeling from the butterflies he got in his stomach every time the other man spoke, Alex bumped into him, giggling, "You are so welcome, mate," he laughed and walked into the building.

y/n/l/nofficial

y/n/l/nofficial told him not to eat the wasabi 🤷‍♂️

username Is this a soft launch?

username Oh?

username IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEE

username Istg I've seen that blonde before

username ong that hoodie too

You knew you had forgotten to tag Logan but you never expected people to expect he was your boyfriend! That post wasn't even that suggestive, was it? Oh god, it was going to be so embarrassing!

"Hey, Y/n you good?" Your teammate asked you causing you to throw your phone at the man, who laughed at the comments.

"This is why we keep PR managers, cowboy," he threw it back to you, "Hey at least you got another bull outta it-" he teased making you throw your pillow at him which he laughed at rushing out the room.

Your hand trembled over Logan's chat. Should you invite him out again? The lunch invitation already had you sweating under your collar like a thief in church. Why was talking to that Floridian getting you so nervous? You balanced on live bulls for a damn living!

Okay, oh god why wasn't he responding. You really fucked this up, next time you went out you were going to let that bull throw you nine ways to Sunday and then some more.

Could you blame this on autocorrect? Yeah, of course, everyone knew what a nuisance that damn thing was.

In the middle of your spiral, you got a few notifications, hoping it was Logan you quickly checked your phone, almost dropping it in the process.

logansargeant

logansargeant Southern Hospitality 🫡

username sir? Bro? Pookie bear? Come back home the kids miss you 😭

username Forgive me I wasn't aware of your game

username Guys can't they just be friends???

alexalbon You're welcome 🥰

username GIRL- WHAT DO YOU KNOW????

username IS THAT @/y/n/l/noffical

username I'D KNOW THAT DAMN SMILE ANYWHERE Stgsiagdfki

Request 1/5- DONE!! Updates will be weekly as I wanna make sure I get the best quality of each fic but TRUST your ask will be answered cause most are abt Logan and we stan that American boy in this damn blog here 😤

As always pls do let me know how y'all like the fic!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

[mad3lyncline]

𝑻𝑬𝑿𝑻𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑵 𝑼𝑵𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹 – 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 . more starters taken from ridiculous texts my muses have sent on wire / discord . adjust pronouns as necessary !

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] okay well . . . . . . you're stinky .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i always at LEAST hit the pen before story time

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] what the fuck is the bourgeoise are we a part of it 😭

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] just looked at a pic i took of u where ur shirtless and almost passed out so there's that

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] U PUT THE BALL ON A TEE AND I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO SWING

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] if i was a frog and you were a frog and we were sitting under a toadstool together but we had to hop through the rain would you use a little leaf as an umbrella and hold it up so i don't get wet 🥺

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] what if we kissed inside a life size replica of the ancient greek torture device the brazen bull

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] listen to some music performed by the world's smallest violin 💀

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i don't remember signing up for domestic prohibition

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you ordered a mariachi band right i can send them in ??

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] did that thing traumatize u so bad u swore to hate geese forever

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] if i'm good at one thing it's being a fuckin simp we KNOW this

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] that and smoking . i'm real good at smoking .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i used to save LIVES man

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] sounds like dick splinters to me

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] me when i'm an anarchist tree and the lorax is in front of me

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] is that racist ? is french a race ?

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] WHY IS EVERYONE SO SURPRISED

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you would make a good lawyer one day [ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you wouldn't win anything [ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] but you've got the spirit

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] yeah , he's been smiling like an idiot about it all day

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] ur dad's a hater

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] can we still eat lunch meats

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i don't know , what the hell is listeria ? is that like wisteria ?

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] yes , dickhole , i got that

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] if anything you're like an EXTRA nepo baby

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] a little frenchman named pierre gives you weed ????

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] for some people life is a movie [ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] for you it's a cartoon

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] I WAS KIDDING . IT WAS A SILLY HA HA .

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you wanna get me started on how hot your dad is go right ahead

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] baby boy every detail you share will be matched and exceeded with a mental image of your parents you never wanted to see

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i'm FUCKING OLDER THAN YOU OH MY GOD

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] you guys look like actual children right now you realize that right

[ 𝒔𝒎𝒔 📲 ] i should probably be a better influence but like fuck yeah 😭😭

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 1/?

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA. DADT fully in force. Hangster AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).

This 3.5k chapter is written on the assumption that you've read the prologue, but you do you (it will still 100% make sense, but He Remembers does set the scene).

PROLOGUE (He remembers) HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights) Updating irregularly. This is a SLOW BURN

2000 (Bradley is 17)

                His hands shake as he holds the envelope. It’s thick. He knows that that’s a good sign. He promised Ice he would wait for him before he opened it. He carries it around the house with him, room to room, nervous that he’s going to somehow lose it if he lets it out of his sight. Mav is meant to be getting back from his deployment this weekend, and the girls are also meant to be coming for the weekend, so it’ll be all his family in one place to celebrate or commiserate with him.

                God he hopes it’s celebrate.

                He really wants to celebrate.

                What if it’s not?

                Oh god he thinks he’s going to be sick.

                Yep.

                Yep, he’s sick, just making it to the bathroom before bringing up the remnants of his lunch and the afternoon snack he’d forced down.

                Oh god, he doesn’t know if he can wait until Ice gets home.

                He sips the glass of water slowly, lets his stomach settle, reminds himself that his life will be fine if it is in fact a rejection letter. He’s applied to other places, Ice and Mav both insisting on it. He’s an honor student, plays baseball, runs track and is a member of the swim team. All things Ice had suggested to him if wanted to strengthen his application and prepare himself physically for entering the Navy. He’ll be fine.

                He’ll be fine.

                He turns on the TV, a hopeful step to distract himself but keeps checking the time. When he hears a car he runs out to the drive and it’s Ice’s car, but there is someone in the passenger seat, in uniform and his heart jumps.

                Mav.

                Mav is home.

                “Dad!” Bradley yells, running and wrapping his arms around his father.

                “Bradley! Holy shit you’ve grown!”

                “Maverick, language…” Ice says, his sigh resigned like he’s just reprimanding him automatically and Bradley lets out a laugh. “Surprise. He got in early.”

                “I got my letter. It’s.. here,” Bradley says, shoving the letter at Ice, not wanting the pressure of opening it.

                He looks and Mav and Ice; they’ve both grown still, suddenly less happy as they look at the thick white envelope, Ice slapping it against his palm, expression serious.

                “Come on, let’s go inside.”

                They head inside, and he leans into Mav’s arm around him, barely reaching now, but he won’t say anything. Ice is grabbing a letter opener, holding it out to him along with the envelope and he shakes his head.

                “Can you open it please.”

                Ice doesn’t bother answering, simply slits it along the top, pulling out the folded wad of paper and flicking the top sheet out sharply, eyes scanning it.

                “You’re in.”

                He lets out the breath he’d been holding, entire body slumping with relief.

                “Like there was any doubt,” Mav mutters, hugging him again, but he can see the tick in his jaw, knows he’s upset or worried about something. He’d seen it a lot when Mav had been teaching him to drive before Ice had decided that maybe he should take over the lessons.

                “We should sit down… maybe have some tea.”

                “You’ve been spending too much time with that British-raised Admiral, thinking tea can solve everything…”

                “Well, Bradley’s eighteen, didn’t exactly want to offer him whiskey.”

                “That’s okay, I can offer it. You want a whiskey?”

                “Maverick!”

                Bradley laughs, his nerves settling a little at Mav’s sheer ridiculousness.

                “I’m joking! Stop looking at me like that.”

                Ice lets out a long breath and he wonders if maybe he should have a whiskey.

                “Okay, so there’s also something we need to tell you.”

                “If it’s about sex we can skip it…” Bradley blurts out, wondering if that’s what has got them looking so deadly serious. He’s not stupid, at least not anymore. He’s realized they’re more than just friends, even if Mav has never uttered the words. Ice hasn’t either but he’s seen them, when they think he’s not looking. Heard them when they think he’s not at home, which he’s never mentioning ever. They’re both looking at him in shock and he pulls a face. “What? I’ve had sex.”

                “Fuck. Please tell me you’re being safe,” Mav mutters, which Bradley thinks is hypocritical considering the shit Mav pulls, although of course he is. Ice and Sarah have that shit covered.

                “Yeah, of course. I’m not stupid.”

                “Good to know. Not what we were going to talk about, but, uh, still good to know,” Ice says, looking at the ceiling like it will somehow give him strength. Maybe he’s thinking of the sex talks he’s going to have to give Tamsin and Petra, although they’re only five and three, so at least he’s got years to prepare himself.

                “It’s about your mom.”

                Bradley sits back, going silent. His mom has been gone nearly eight years, he can’t even begin to imagine what they have to say about her now.

                “She didn’t want you to join the Navy. I’m pretty sure when she said Navy, she meant any branch of the DoD, but we won’t split hairs. It was something we argued about. A lot.”

                “She wanted us to make sure you never joined. You’re eighteen and we wouldn’t be able to stop you enlisting. However we wanted you to know what she wanted.”

                “What do you want?”

                “We want you to be happy.”

                “Safe.”

                “But it would be hypocritical of us to stand in your way if you really want to join the Navy when we’re both… in the Navy,” Ice explains.

                Mav hums you can sail the seven seas and Ice shoots him a glare and it makes him laugh, Mav giving him a wink.

                “Bradley, we’ll be proud of you regardless of what you do, as long as you’re proud of it as well.”

                “You don’t need to feel like you have to join just because your dad was, or just because we are…” Mav adds and Bradley nods.

                “So, if you decide to accept this… and you do still need to accept it, just because they’re offering you a place doesn’t mean you have to accept it. If you decide to accept it there are some things that you need to be aware of…”

                “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. So this is a sex talk…” He notes the look that Mav and Ice exchange and realizes then that they think he doesn’t know, that he hasn’t put it all together. “Uh, I know you guys are a couple by the way.”

                He doesn’t get the response he expects, although he doesn’t know what he was expecting exactly. Maverick is laughing, but Ice has gone pale, looks nervous and he reminds himself that he’s considering entering an institute that will deny him something as simple as acknowledging his chosen partner.

                “Told you he’d figure it out,” Mav says, and he’s standing, going over to the liquor cabinet and pouring two whiskies, placing one in front of Ice who takes a sip with a slightly trembling hand. Mav pull a face, and he can’t really parse what it means. They’re not happy, he gets that much.

                “Bradley, DADT means you can’t talk about… well. Us,” Ice starts.

                “Yeah. I figured that out. I know you guys aren’t out. You didn’t even tell me.”

                They both wince at that and he wonders what it is he said.

                “Well, you can mention us, but you can’t mention our positions.”

                “Maybe avoid the fact that we’re in the Navy all together,” Mav suggests.

                “It also means you need to be… careful. For yourself,” Ice adds, turning the glass under his fingers.

                “Yeah. I get it.”

                “Bradley… we’re saying this because we care. Because we’re worried. You’ve grown up in an age where it’s… more acceptable to be… gay. The Navy hasn’t exactly moved at the same rate.”

                “We both married women because we needed people to stop speculating. It’s far more acceptable to be a widow or a divorcee…”

                “Oh.” Of course. He knew Mav had married his mom to make the whole adoption thing easier, but Ice marrying Uncle Sarah. He’d maybe thought bisexual, not that they were trying to throw people off their scent.

                “Yeah… I think you’re starting to get the idea kid.”

                “I’m not a kid.”

                “You’ll always be my kid. Our kid.”

                Shit.

                They’re both looking at him, eyes sad, and he nods tightly, once.

                Stares at the floor so he doesn’t see them watching.

                He gets it.

                But.

                He still wants it.

                Wants it bad enough that he’ll ignore what his mom wanted.

                Wants it bad enough that he’ll hide away a part of himself.

                His stomach roils at the idea of being found out then, but he has to at least try. He wants to fly more than he wants to have a boyfriend. More than he wants sex. Sex hasn’t been that great anyway. His times flying have definitely been better and more memorable than the times he’s had sex.

                “I want to fly.”

                “Yeah. Okay. How about you take the weekend, read through everything. We can discuss timelines and Plebe Summer…”

                “And how to avoid answering questions about your family.”

                “I’ll just… not talk about you at all. If anyone asks I’ll say my dad was a naval aviator and he died in a training exercise and –”

                “That’ll probably make them stop asking you questions. Won’t exactly make you friends.”

                “I don’t want friends. I want to fly.”

                “You can have both.”

                “Not if you’re lying to them.”

                “It wouldn’t be lying.”

                “Half-truths and omission is still lying.”

                Bradley looks between them, and he knows they’re about to enter a pointless argument with no winner that they seem to do every time Mav returns from deployment. It’s a pattern he’s noticed, all their attention turned and focused on each other and oh… Right. He guesses he’s still got a bit to learn.

                “I’m going to take this to my room and read it. Let me know when dinner’s ready okay?”

                “We’ll order takeout, something to celebrate. What do you want?”

                “Pizza!” Bradley calls out, can already hear the scraping of chairs and he’s going to put his music on and blast it.

…             …             …

                “You okay? Ice?” Pete asks, crouching beside him and Ice looks up from his glass of whiskey.

                “How did he figure it out? We’ve been so careful…”

                “He lives with us. Not all of us together, but he knew I wasn’t interested in Carole like that… He knows I’m not straight. When he came out to me I told him it wasn’t easy being in the Navy and not being straight. I really don’t think it’s obvious, not to our workmates or the casual observer. We have separate homes, separate lives… Our friends and family know because we told them.”

                “We didn’t tell Bradley, he figured it out on his own.”

                “He’s a smart kid. We did a good job,” Pete says, running his fingers over the back of Ice’s hand briefly, a caress that could be brushed off as accidental apart from the number of times Pete has managed it over the last decade. The closest he can give to a comforting hug in public.

                “Yeah, we did…”

                “He probably thinks we’re having reunion sex.”

                “Well, it has been five months. I wouldn’t say no.”

                Pete coughs, caught by surprise.

                “I – really? But Bradley’s home…”

                “Your son, who apparently knows we’re together, is now in his room in my house blasting music so loud I can feel it in my bones…”

                “Come on then! Time’s a wasting!” Pete says, tugging at his hand now, not wanting to give Ice time to second guess his decision and change his mind.

                “You taking me to me bedroom Mav? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

                “I left it in my thirties, it was replaced by my desire to never have my son never walk-in on me having sex…”

                Ice laughs then, reaches for him, pulls him close and he’s being kissed. Kissed properly like it’s a whole conversation, telling him how much he’s been missed, how much he’s loved, how much he’s wanted. Ice holds him close, one arm around his waist and his other hand on the back of his head, fingernails scraping through his hair and he presses against it, mainly against the hard body in front of him and one of the few perks of deployment is getting to come back to this every time.

                “Come on, take me to bed.”

…             …             …

                Bradley has seen videos of his parents, knows he’d probably have siblings if his dad had lived. He probably would have also known more than he wanted to about their sex life, given that they’d seen sickeningly in love with each other and not afraid to let the surrounding people know it. He remembers them being constantly affectionate with each other, always cuddling each other, often with him sandwiched in between.

                Mav and Ice don’t have that type of relationship at all, he’s never seen them kiss, or hold hands. Hugs have been few and far between, always coupled with manly backslaps or punches to the arm and he can only hazard a guess that it’s different behind closed doors. Except nothing between them changes over the weekend. They’re still friendly with each other, there are still looks which could maybe have a heavier meaning, but on Saturday night Mav says he’s heading home, to his place and Bradley has to stop himself from asking why.

                They have an illusion they need to maintain and he needs to play his part in maintaining it. He offers to go and stay with Mav, after all he’s only just back from five months away. Instead he’s told to stay where he is, that Ice wants to talk to him about the USNA once Tamsin and Petra are in bed. And he might not have siblings, but he does have Tamsin and Petra, who get called his little ducklings with how they follow his every move when they come to stay, or when he stays with Sarah and her wife when Ice isn’t at home and Bradley still needs to attend school. Bradley’s the one that reads them their bedtime stories, so he hugs Mav goodbye and tells him he’ll see him tomorrow.

                “You want a beer?” Ice offers and Bradley does a double take.

                “Uh. Is this a trick question?”

                Ice shrugs and Bradley accepts the bottle hesitantly, because Mav offering him whiskey as a joke last night is one thing, Ice offering him a beer with his serious face on is a whole different ball game and he knows they’re going to talk.

                “You had a chance to read through the material yet?”

                “Yeah. You know I’m going to accept right?”

                “I know. Stopping you from doing this would be like trying to stop Mav from flying. An impossible undertaking. So. I know we have time, but Plebe Summer… you want to be as physically ready for that as possible. It’ll make everything else easier. Mav and I will start you on a training regime so it’s not too much of a shock. Also start memorizing the orders now.”

                Bradley groans, but he guesses he’s going to have to prove to some that he deserves to be at USNA and not sailing in on the fact that Ice is pretty much his step-dad or de facto guardian or whatever the fuck people have been referring to their relationship as. Actually, he should probably know what other people think, or know.

                “What do other people think about me? About me living with you when Mav is deployed that is?”

                “That I’m doing Mav a favor. Some people might think it’s out of guilt, because of your dad. But it’s not. Your dad was my friend too. More than Maverick was back then, that’s for sure. Also I love you, your my kid in everything but name.”

                “It’s kind of going to suck pretending I don’t know you. Or that we aren’t close.”

                “Don’t pretend. You can mention me. But maybe don’t advertise the fact, because there will be people that will want to use your connections. There always are.”

                “Uh… I wasn’t going to try and make myself come off as a massive dick like I only earnt my place because I’m legacy.”

                “Bradley, you’re… triple legacy? If that’s even a thing. If anyone was going to accuse the Navy of nepotism then you’d be the poster child. Except you’re aptitude tests are great, you’d be a shoe in even if you weren’t a legacy kid. If you don’t want to draw attention to your relationship with me then we can manage that. I find deflection works best. When you’re asked about your family, what will you say?”

                “My dad was a naval aviator who died in a Top Gun training incident in eighty-six and my mom died of cancer in ninety-four. I was raised by my step-father after that. Any other awkward questions you want answers to?”

                Ice chuckles then, takes a drink of his beer and shakes his head.

                “God you sounded like Mav just then… You know what Mav told me to tell people when they suggested I try and reconcile with Sarah? That she was a lesbian and it was pretty hard to reconcile that.”

                “Oh ouch…”

                “Yeah, be good at what you do. Be friendly but simply discourage people from asking questions and you’ll be fine. When you make friends, and you will make friends Bradley, you’re far too social to not make friends, then you can maybe share with them who helped raise you after your mom died…”

                “You helped before she died too. You’ve always been there for me.”

                “I’ve always tried to be there.”

                “Thanks Ice.”

                “My pleasure. Now are you actually going to drink any of that or are you just warming it up?”

                “You can have it, I don’t like beer.”

                “How do you know? You haven’t even tasted it,” Ice states, his expression flat and Bradley rolls his eyes, knows when Ice is trying to wind him up.

                “You know I go to parties. I’ve had beer before.”

                “Learning all sorts this weekend aren’t we.”

                “Like you’d believe me if I said I’ve never had beer before anyway…”

                “Somedays I forget you’re not the same age as Tamsin and Petra.”

                “Ice…” Bradley says, rolling his eyes, handing him the bottle of beer.

                “If you ever have kids of your own you’ll understand.”

                “How did that, uh, work, anyway? Are you…” he trails off, not really sure how to ask his other father figure how he might identify.

                “I’m gay Bradley. Sarah knew before we even got married. Your mom set us up actually. This was back when it was instant dishonorable discharge if someone found out. Someone made a stupid passing comment about Mav and me, and we weren’t even serious about each other back then. Your mom had just been diagnosed and we knew it was a solution that would benefit everyone. Anyway, would you believe Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is actually an improvement? It’s still not easy but…”

                “I get it. You don’t want to put me off going, but you want me to be prepared for how hard it will be.”

                “Yeah. Yeah, you get it. I don’t want you to come back to us and say we didn’t warn you. Mav isn’t academy, somehow thinks I have some secret insights I can share with you despite the fact it’s been over twenty-five years since I was there. Things will have changed.”

                They sit in silence for a few moments and Bradley knows they’ll support whatever decision he makes. That lying, even by omission, is going to become normal for him, habit. He has to accept that if he’s going to join. He’s going to have to hide himself, and his family.

                “Is it worth it?”

                “Is what worth it?”

                “Hiding.”

                The sigh Ice lets out is long and Bradley can tell he’s not avoiding the question, but more trying to formulate an answer, because he never rushes things, always treats Bradley’s questions with respect and gives him fleshed out answers, truthful ones, even when they might hurt. He’s talked more about his dad’s death with Ice than he has with Mav, knows that Mav still feels some level of guilt, and probably always will if what Ice says, so he doesn’t bring it up with him.

                “Yes and no. It used to be easy. No. That’s not right. It used to be easier. When we were younger, and had your mom and Sarah at our backs, it was easier. Now… well. We’re very used to hiding. But I’d love to take Mav to things as my partner. Officially. Not just pretend to bump into each other and pretend we haven’t seen each other in a while. It can be lonely.”

                “That sounds sucky.”

                Ice shrugs, seems reconciled to it and Bradley wonders if he’ll get like that and it makes him a little sad.

                “It is what it is. I can’t change anything. I’ve been very careful. But I made friends, close friends, ones that know about Mav and me, and some still serve now. If I lived my time again I’d make nearly all of the same choices. Maverick being one of them. He’s worth it.”

                “Even when he annoys you?” Bradley asks, because that seems to be a cornerstone of their relationship, and the smile Ice gives him is small and soft.

                “Especially when he annoys me. Reminds me not to take myself too seriously.”

                “Okay. Okay. Thanks for the talk…”

                “Anytime. You know that.”

                Yeah.

                He does.

CHAPTER TWO

[spirkkock]

Going to be diseased about the modern au jopson/little/tozer idea forever. Legit sounds like the perfect story omg. There’s so much potential that I actually can’t stop thinking about it and now I want to know all the little details on how they would all interact,,

(Also if you somehow haven’t already then I’d highly recommend reading Renovation by ktula on ao3 - similar broad premise but very different details.

I was going to just say this all as a comment but I got shy lol but regardless! Very good concept, your mind is so massive for it tbh)

Omg!!! I was 100% inspired by ktula’s Renovation! I just read it last week and it’s all I can think about for real!! That fic rewired something in my brain, legitimately. I didn’t realize how much I was into Sol until I read it - he’s just so rough I need him to top me ASAP.

You don't have to feel shy! I'm just a dumb nerd who likes to think about cold boys warming up together :) say hi any time!

ANYWAY I loooove all of their dynamics so much. i have thought about this A LOT so here's way more details!!!!!!

[[PART 1]]

Nepo baby Nedward comes from a big family with lots of money. He works hard but he’s so shy and sad he couldn’t have gotten where he’s gotten (idk maybe something in finance?) without that Oxford legacy admissions because he’s such a big mopey doofus otherwise. And he’s quite ashamed of it, really, because he recognized his privilege but he can’t help it. And he’s a little out of touch because of it all but trying his best. But when grandma died no one else wanted the (modest but now, with real estate prices like they are, quite fancy) Victorian house because it’s practically falling apart, so it’s his now.

Jopson obviously also went to Oxford but on scholarship and had to work his ass off for it. He learned how to put on a wealthy affect to blend in with all the rich kids. But none of them liked him except Ned, who trailed around after him like a morose puppy begging for scraps of attention. And it pissed Tom off so much at first but eventually he realized he liked Ned - a lot actually. And he likes being in control, which is what Ned needs more than anything. And the rest is history! He’s perhaps some sort of organizer for housing justice. He’s home when he’s not yelling at city council for their proposed cheap developments that will displace entire city blocks of people for years.

(I think perhaps they’re not actually married yet. Tom doesn’t believe in marriage. He watched his father leave his mother and he’s watched too many “good men” leave her subsequently. But he and Ned make a show of it like they are - of course the Littles are less than thrilled that their only son is gay and seriously dating some kind of activist.)

Sol….. poor Sol…. He’s down on his luck for sure (not as bad as he is in ktula’s fic but still). He has a tendency of mixing business with pleasure, which really screwed him over when his former coworkers (and lovers) turned on him. It’s tough being queer in construction. So he lost his job, and now he’s taking odd jobs to do electrical work, but he’s certified for much much more than that.

Sol is also a sex fiend!!! He can’t help it, honestly, it’s just his nature. And the dry spell is killing him, but he knows he has to stay focused and snag this opportunity to work on this big beautiful house. But it’s soooo difficult because Nedward is 100% his type and his cute little husband isn’t bad either, even if he is a little unnerving. And he's constantly putting his foot in his mouth by accidentally saying something stupid and horny but it always makes Tom's eyes go dark and Ned turn a glorious pink so he keeps doing it.

At first Sol thinks Tom doesn’t trust him - his work (other than electrical) isn’t insured, since he’s not with a company, and Tom seems to know enough about housing to know that might be a bad idea. But he’s certainly cute, and he’s always buying Sol lunch from the chippie and asking him what kind of music he wants Tom to put on and eventually Sol thinks they’re maybe friends. But, by god, he’s always walking around looking like a snack in those tight, too small t shirts and booty shorts showing off the dark hair on his thighs and belly. And when he catches Sol looking he always responds with the most indecipherable, sultry expression that goes straight to Sol's cock - this environment is NOT conducive to GETTING WORK DONE. He goes home every day and jerks off thinking about what Tom and Ned might look like in bed together.

And don't get me started on Ned - he's an absolute mess of a man. He's big and a rough around the edges, obviously, but so well mannered and polite at the same time. He's always trying (and failing) to butch it up for Sol - he invites Sol to watch sports (working men like sports, right?) and drink a beer (men like Sol drink beer, right?), and maybe barbeque when the garden is finished (come on - grilling meat and drinking beer... right? Right?). And it's so misguided and silly but Sol finds it totally endearing, especially the time when Ned super excitedly offers him the most disgusting oatmeal stout he's ever had the displeasure of drinking, and so they both end up having some of Tom's Cab Sav instead. And then, of course, Sol wants to talk about notes and wine pairings with Tom and Ned goes the most alluring shade of scarlet because he's spent so much time and energy going down the WRONG avenues to woo Sol.

And Sol doesn't know this until later, but Ned gets off so hard after the fact when Tom teases him mercilessly about making a fool of himself in front of Sol. He absolutely gets a shame boner any time he embarrasses himself, and it gets so much worse (better) when Sol and Tom start screwing because it makes Ned feel like a voyeur and a pervert. He loves hearing all the titillating details of their salacious affair. Of course Tom knows all of this and completely milks it. His favorite thing to do is drive Ned into a mild moral panic. And it's just too easy easy with regard to Sol.

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (63)

*What are the Hungers Games for?* Read [this] first.

Sejanus: My love, my Snow Angel, wake up~. It’s almost lunchtime.

Coryo: *is half asleep* Five more minutes, Babe.😴

Sejanus: Ok! Anything for my pretty Snow Bae~.😍

Clemensia: Ugh. You’re so bad at this, Plinth.

Sejanus: Bad at what?

Clemensia: Watch and learn, lover boy. *grabs Coryo’s shoulders and shakes him like a rag doll* Wake the f*ck up, Snowy! Wake up! The school is giving away free food and money!

Coryo: *wakes up* Free food?! Free money?! Where?!

Clemensia: I lied.

Coryo: Clemmie, you’re cruel.

Clemensia: I’m normal.

Coryo: Doubt-

Clemensia: Snowy, be a dear and wake our professional dumpster diver, will you?☺️

Coryo: Fine. *turns to Festus* Bestie, Pup and Percy Price are playing Patty Cake without you again.

Festus: *immediately wakes up* Pup, you lying traitor!

Livia: Pup is not even here, you idiot.

Festus: Then where is he?!

Livia: I don’t know-

Felix: He’s currently hiding from the lunch lady again.

Festus: Lol. Did he “borrow” her hairnet again?

Felix: Worse.😔 He stole her golden spatula in the name of research.

Festus: *gets up and salutes* May the odds be ever in our brother’s favor.🫡

Felix: *salutes back* So be it.

Coryo: So be it. I’m hungry. Let’s go, Babe.

Sejanus: Yey! Hold my hand, my love-

Dr.Gaul: *blocks the exit door* Children, sit down.

Coryo: But it’s lunchtime-

Dr.Gaul: Sit.

Coryo: But I’m hungry.

Dr.Gaul: Starve.

Vipsania: *gasps* She said a forbidden word! She said a forbidden word!

Coryo: The audacity!

Livia: Dr. Gaul, can I leave? I have to fix my makeup real quick.

Dr.Gaul: Sure. Go ahead, girl.

Livia: Bye, losers! *walks out*

Urban: Yo, that ain’t fair, Doc!

Dr.Gaul: It’s Dr. Gaul to you, Mr. Canville. Besides, Mama Cardew is a monster.

Sejanus: You’re a monster!

Dr.Gaul: What are you gonna do about it, boy?

Sejanus: I will cry!

Dr.Gaul: That’s what I thought.

Persephone: That is still a form of favoritism, Dr. Gaul.

Dr.Gaul: Says the nepo cannibal.

Persephone: *starts crying* That was one time! One time!😭

Lysistrata: Dr. Gaul, that was uncalled for-

Dr.Gaul: Do you want Mama Cardew to burn our economy to the ground?

Lysistrata: No-

Dr.Gaul: Then shut your useless mouths before I shut them for you!

Persephone: Festus, Baby, hug me!😭

Festus: *hugs Percy and comforts her* There, there, Percy Price. Dr. Gaul is just a hallucination. She ain’t real. She’s just a bad dream.

Iphigenia: *raises hand* Dr. Gaul.

Dr.Gaul: Yes, pet?

Iphigenia: Can I fix my makeup too?

Dr.Gaul: No.

Felix: Wow. ✨Cardew Nepotism✨ really does work like a charm.

Coryo: Eh. ✨Cardew Nepotism✨ sucks. It only works on crazy people with real power.

Sejanus: I wish my nepotism is as good as hers.😞

Coryo: Don’t be too sad, my love. Our ✨Plinth-Snow Dynasty✨ will rule them all someday.

Sejanus: Along with our 24 gorgeous children?🥺

Coryo: Whatever you say, Babe.

Sejanus: 24 and more children?

Coryo: *sighs* 24 and more.

Sejanus: Coryo, Kiss.😘

Coryo: Sure-

Dr.Gaul: Not in front of me and my pit bull rabbit, you fools!

Coryo: Then let us go! I’m starving! I need to eat my pecan pie without looking at you!

Apollo: Yo, I have to buy a new bottle of glue.

Vipsania: Can somebody help me find my other shoe?

Persephone: I want my precious meat stew!😭

Dennis: I have an illegal business to attend to!

Diana: Does anyone have a new copy of ✨Me Before Hugh✨?🥺

Hilarius: I want to buy expensive shampoo-

Felix: Not now, Hilari!

Festus: Let us go! Let us go! Let us go-

Dr.Gaul: No! Nobody is leaving this classroom without answering the most important question of the day!

Lysistrata: The most important question?

Io: What is love?😀

Dr.Gaul: Ms. Jasper.

Io: Yes?

Dr.Gaul: Go cry in the corner before I give you and your parents another demerit.

Io: Ok.😞

Urban: So what’s the question?

Dr.Gaul: I’m so glad you asked, Mr. Turban.

Urban: It’s Urban-

Dr.Gaul: Tell me, children, what are the Hunger Games for?

Urban: I’m too angry to answer that stupid question-

Clemensia: To commemorate the war!

Dr.Gaul: Good. What else?

Diana: To commemorate the fallen heroes?

Dr.Gaul: Lame.

Dennis: To punish the rebels?

Dr.Gaul: Boring.

Felix: To punish those who stole my granduncle’s last bits of sanity!

Dr.Gaul: Lol. Nice try, brat. President Ravinstill was already crazy from the start.

Felix: But-

Dr.Gaul: He was born crazy and he will die crazy.

Felix: That’s kinda rude-

Dr.Gaul: Next!

Juno: To remind the Districts that we can be evil and ✨fabulous✨ at the same time!

Dr.Gaul: You’re not wrong, but-

Sejanus: To commemorate how cruel the Capitol is!

Dr.Gaul: Lol. Is that all?

Coryo: To Commemorate Drunk Dean Highbottom’s loser ass loser life!

Dr.Gaul: Correct- No! Not correct!

Coryo: To commemorate how angry and hungry I am right now!

Dr.Gaul: That’s still wrong-

Coryo: Let me go! I’m hungry! I need to eat my f*ckin’ pecan pie before I go feral!

Dr.Gaul: Mr. Snow-

Coryo: *is now in “feral” mode*

Sejanus: Not again-

Coryo: *is now acting like a feral wet cat* My pecan pie!

Sejanus: Babe, calm down-

Coryo: *hisses like a cat, shoves Dr. Gaul to the side, and quickly runs away* Bye, b*tch!

Lysistrata: Why is Coryo running like a skinny cat on crack?!

Sejanus: Festus, get the ropes! My poor darling lost his mind again!😭

Lysistrata: Again?!

Festus: Yeah. Poor Snowy goes full “feral” if he doesn’t eat something before lunchtime.

Hilarius: That’s wild, bro.

Festus: That’s just his weird irreversible war trauma working overtime.

Sejanus: It gets even worse if you don’t feed him his daily cabbage.😞

Hilarius: Well, that’s sad.

Clemensia: Felix.

Felix: Yes, Clemmie?

Clemensia: Are you 100 percent sure that our “prestigious” school is not secretly a mental asylum for the rich and Coryo?

Felix: I hope not.

Lysistrata: Weewoo.

Felix: I really hope not.

Pup: *comes out of nowhere holding a golden spatula* But seriously, what are the Hunger Games for?

Dr.Gaul: F*ck them kids.

[visionofvoid]

Limelight - LS18

Summary: “you’ll get your flowers my dear.”

Warnings: some shameless flirting, a cocky oc 

Pairings: lance stroll x oc

Word Count: 1311

She recalled the first time she ever encountered the Stroll family. 

It was at a joint gala to raise money for children with terminal illnesses and her parents, who were incredibly notable in the car collection and curating community, wished to donate a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 in a cherry red colour. It was one of the most expensive items up for grabs and had all its original interior in pristine condition. It gained quite a number of public attention, for a good reason, and all donations were given to the foundation they were sponsoring. It was that night that a young Piper Broadstone had encountered a young Lance Stroll, the boy in his late teens and too cool to speak to girls. 

It wasn’t until years later that the two families attended yet another high profile event, this time with Piper placing a bet and winning a one-on-one date and drive with Lance Stroll himself. She wasn’t too sure on how she would organise this one-on-one date as she found herself drinking too much champagne and dancing with her mother and friends. She honestly could have approached Lance but instead chose to admire from a distance, sneaking a look whenever she could. 

Piper had honestly forgotten about the auction until she received a message request in her private messages on her Instagram.

lance_ stroll: you know, if you really wanted to come for a cruise or a date you could have just messaged me on this

and its free too

Piper admired his cheeky flirting and it seemed that he was also somewhat eager to see what the date had to offer. Of course it was all up to Lance to provide the date and to showcase his driving skills, all Piper had to do was dress the part and just show up. 

itspiperbroadstone: i did it for the kids, mr stroll, don’t let it get to your head

kind of silly that you had to ask for an auction to get me to go on a date with you. you could have messaged me on this 

lance_stroll: bold of you to assume i want a date with you

itspiperbroadstone: why else would you message me at nine at night out of nowhere? 

lance_stroll: touche 

tomorrow at 11am, casual, braided hair may be best (car purposes only)

do you prefer lunch or dinner for the date?

itspiperbroadstone: we love a dominant king

lets do food after the drive tomorrow, you know, make sure it’s all in one day otherwise you might fall in love with me

lance_stroll: im certain you’ll be falling for me 

our parents will love the combined fortune 

itspiperbroadstone: old money nepo babies 

pick me up in the vantage xoxo

i want flowers too

i paid 50k i should at least get some flowers

lance_stroll: you’ll get your flowers my dear 

Casual to someone like Piper was a lot different to someone that didn’t live in an expensive penthouse in Canada. Of course Piper understood that casual was just a term to dress a lot more relaxed but she still needed to dress to impress. She followed the latest trends and embarrassingly fed into fast fashion so she was dressed all in just a pair of jeans with a baggy graphic shirt to pair. It was a nice sunny day so she neglected to bring a jacket as she walked out of her apartment complex, bidding her doorman a farewell and towards the Aston Martin Vantage she could only guess was Lance’s. 

He was leaning against his car, also in a rather casual outfit in a pair of jeans, brown boots and an all grey shirt. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers, a mix of daisies, babies breath, camellias and a few other variations. He wore a large smile on his face as Piper approached, embracing the girl in a quick and gentle hug, a kiss to the cheek and then pulled away gracefully. 

“I wasn’t too sure what flowers you liked so I got a bit of everything.” Lance confessed, though he had secretly looked through all of her social media to find some sort of hint. It was in her highlights. 

“Thank you, Lance. They’re beautiful.” Piper hated to admit that she was blushing and instead hid her face in the flowers, disguising the action by sniffing the flowers. They smelled incredibly fresh. There was nothing like the smell of fresh flowers. “So, what have you got planned for us today?” Lance opened her door like a gentleman and held her flowers as she strapped herself in before closing the door when she was settled. He ran to the other side, climbing into the passenger seat and started his car, one of his prized possessions. 

“Well, I have a couple of cars for me to drive you around in at the track and then I’ll see how you go-”

“Driving one? You're letting me drive a Formula One car?” Lance chuckled in response, pulling into the lane and heading towards the Montreal track. 

“No, you can’t operate one of those. I’ve got a couple of other cars, much safer cars to take you in and for you to drive.” Lance’s eyes remained on the road for the most part as they drove through town. His car was enough to get some stairs and rightfully so; it was a beautiful car, anyone could appreciate that, and it was the biggest flex of all. Not many people owned a car such as the vantage, not even Piper of her family, though they did own a few Aston Martins. She looked out at the window, admiring the city she was born and raised in. The two settled into a peaceful silence as they continued to the track. It was not awkward, at least from Piper’s perspective. 

The 'Date’ was great PR for not only Piper and Lance but for their families, for the charity in which the money from the bid was going to and for Formula One itself. There were film crews at the ready, organised photographers to capture the two in and out of the cars, cameras and microphones set up inside the cars to capture the reactions of the two. 

Piper was genuinely enjoying herself, even though her braided hair was becoming a mess and she laughed rather obnoxiously in front of Lance. 

Lance was also having a great time. He never really got to show off his skills in older modelled cars let alone with a pretty girl beside him. He liked to glance over as he drifted around a corner, watching her absolutely lose herself into the atmosphere. It was something he found himself wanting to see more, yearning to see more. So, he hated it when their drive had ended and it was Piper’s turn to drive. 

She got into the first car, the pair strapping themselves in. She quickly posed for a camera pointing towards them and then turned on the ignition. 

“You can drive stick?” Lance questioned, Piper only nodding in response before taking off. She had devised a plan, starting off slow to get Lance to think she was nervous. She took it easy around the corners before she found herself approaching the hairpin after turn nine. She started accelerating, going faster and faster by the second before drifting the car almost expertly around the hairpin and turn ten. She couldn’t wait to see the footage once it was released of Lance's reaction. She finished the circuit, stopping at the pit in front of the cameras and getting out, throwing her hands in the air almost as if she was a racer herself. 

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Lance questioned once the two of them were finally helmet free. 

“My parents are car collectors and curators, you learn a thing or two.”

[mixsethaddams]

Steve was bored.

Like, it was about to become a problem type of bored. He was practically falling asleep at his desk and he was already on warning after being late to work. You’d think his boss would be a little kinder for something as simple as sleeping through an alarm, but noooooo. She had to ‘make an example’, apparently. What a bitch. Instant written warning, no second chances.

Great.

It didn’t even happen for a good reason anyway. He binged some dumb Netflix show and kept hitting ‘Next Episode’ until 4am. It wasn’t even well written. So now here he was with a weight behind his eyes and half a mind to write a strongly worded letter to find out what the hell the writers were thinking with that ending.

He would have called out entirely if it wasn’t Wednesday. Steve’s favourite day of the week, because Wednesday was the day the interns from the business campus across town came in.

They were all Steve’s age or thereabouts, his status as a nepo baby securing his less-than-desirable spot in his father’s business behind this stupid desk, and under the watchful eye of Diane, right out of highschool. He envied how the students came in, sat in the corner of meetings and took frantic notes, before going off in a great big gaggle for lunch together while Steve ate a foil wrapped ham and cheese sandwich alone in the staff break room.

So Wednesday meant interns, meant crowded meetings, meant loud discussions of how to split a deli tab, meant Eddie.

Eddie.

Steve could barely keep his eyes off him any time he paraded through the office. His grey slacks were on the borderline of being too baggy for dress code, his white shirt was never tucked in but it was fitted to the point of maybe it was just a size too small, so it didn’t matter anyway. Even his slim black tie, flying around as Eddie bounced through the office, gave an extra endearing quality to the man. And the mop of curly hair, haphazardly thrown up into a bun on top of his head? Don’t get Steve started.

Steve had been looking for an ‘in’ for months now. Time was running out, the internship programme would be ending soon and Wednesday would go back to being just a regular day. No students, no Eddie. Steve tried once or twice to say hi when they passed in the parking lot but Eddie only ever offered a distracted smile before going back to whatever he was doing on his phone. He never even took out his headphones.

It wasn’t until Steve was sitting in the break room one Thursday, forcing himself to chew through stale bread and ham that had smelled better yesterday, that he finally got a chance. He was silently stewing at the fact Diane was forcing him to reenter a huge data sheet of figures later on that day. He fucking hated reentries, and she knew it.

“Hey,” said Eddie, standing at the door before sitting across from Steve at the table.

Steve realised he’d gone too long without replying when Eddie’s eyebrows quirked inwards.

“Hey, hi, yeah…. Hey,” said Steve quickly. He was suddenly very aware of how bland his grey shirt/navy sweater combo looked in comparison to Eddie’s….everything. It didn’t matter that Eddie was dressed in monotone greys today, it was just him.

“You’re not usually here on Thursdays,” said Steve, aiming for casual.

Eddie smirked.

“Yeah well,” he said, leaning back heavily in his chair. “I messed up some figures yesterday so I offered to come in today to fix it. No classes in the afternoon so, made sense,”

Eddie finished with a shrug. Steve had no idea what he’d just said because this was actually the first time he’d heard Eddie’s voice without the buzz of the entire office in the background and he felt like he wanted to swim in it.

“Cool, cool,” said Steve, hoping that was an appropriate response.

Eddie nodded and regarded Steve carefully, eyes dragging over the parts of him that weren’t hidden by the table.

“You take a lot of notice when I’m here….?” began Eddie, leaning forward and motioning for Steve to fill in the blank.

“Oh, S-Stephen, Steve, uh, Steve,” he stammered, clearing his throat.

“Steve,” repeated Eddie slowly. “I’m Eddie,”

Steve knew his name. Had made a mission of finding it out. Broke six different company policies on privacy to find it after the first week.

Steve just nodded, shy now.

“So tell me, Steve,” said Eddie, dragging his teeth over his lip when he said Steve’s name. “Do you always notice when I’m not here?”

“It’s…It’s intern day, Wednesdays,” floundered Steve. “You’re an intern. Wednesday is your day. To be here, I mean, and this is…Thursday, so…”

Eddie’s eye narrowed as a grin tugged on the edge of his mouth.

“Desk 405, right?” asked Eddie, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Third cubicle past the bathrooms, right next to the cooler?”

Steve’s mouth dropped open.

“Yeah, yes, uh, how did…” Steve cleared his throat again. “Why do you know where my desk is?”

Eddie stood, pocketing the paper again.

“You’re the one who’s going to help me fix my mistake,” said Eddie, rapping his knuckles on the table, calling over his shoulder as he left. “Thank Diane, she said you love data reentry,”

Steve did always like Diane.