#trying to make a shortlist

[sircolinmorgan]

the longlist for the national television awards is now open! Until I Kill You is up for New Drama and Shaun is up for Drama Performance. VOTE VOTE VOTE (you can skip all the categories you don't want to vote in)

[vigilantejustice]

this week is shortlisting week for the library traineeship so will be anxiously waiting by my phone for the foreseeable

[abrahamvanhelsings]

evaluating abstracts for a conference and it's so hard to judge fairly bc half of these just do not interest me personally but that doesn't mean they're bad abstracts

[cardsharksplayingames]

Do we think mashups are still on the table or will we go back to full songs because of TTPD

[werothegreat]

The governor of Pennsylvania (the state the Adjuster was found in), Josh Shapiro (who was on the shortlist to be Kamala's VP pick lol) just said at a press conference: “In America, we do not kill people in cold blood to resolve policy differences or express a viewpoint."

What, Josh, exactly, are we supposed to do?

Vote? Thanks to gerrymandering, the electoral college, politicians being funded by corporations, and "news" organizations peddling propaganda, that does shit all.

Protest? We try doing that and we are just ignored. The right makes jokes about running over protestors (because apparently only the lives of rich white people matter).

Call our politicians? They don't fucking care. We've been trying that for decades and they barely passed Obamacare, which Trump now wants to dismantle.

MLK said "a riot is the language of the unheard." We have been screaming at the tops of our lungs that these "policy differences" are killing us. Costly private medical insurance is killing us. Lack of gun control is killing us. Rising food and fuel prices are killing us. Microplastics everywhere is killing us. Fossil fuels are killing us.

And people like you, Governor Josh Shapiro, do nothing except protect your rich friends.

I'm surprised it's taken this long, and I'm surprised there haven't been copycats yet. Let me know when I should grab my torch and pitchfork, because my student and medical debt ridden ass is very ready for some good old-fashioned revolution.

[cirrus-grey]

ALICE: So each of the cases is categorized on four metrics with a standard integer scale, that’s your DPHW.

GWEN: Okay. Now I’m pretty sure I need to try and keep them as even as possible.

ALICE: Ok, so, it makes sense that if you’re low on “W” that means we should probably prioritize processing cases with a higher rank on that metric to bring the average up, right? … So, it’s just a hunch but I bet if we have a look at old cases and then try and sort by “W” we can find out which cases got the biggest scores in that metric and reverse engineer what you need … Now, unless I’m wrong, which, let’s be honest, is pretty damn likely, when we cross reference this shortlist for common terms we’ll find out what Freddy thinks you need and that... is... more... Bonzo?

Loving finally getting a breakdown for why DPHW is important, here.

Now I, like the utter nerd I am, have been tracking the DPHW of each case on a spreadsheet, and therefore was able to do some quick sorting just like Alice. Bonzo is definitely our highest W scorer of the lot – he’s got 2 of the 5 cases ranked as “8” on that metric, though he tends to score pretty high on P and H as well.

However.

We are not low on W. When you add up the total DPWHs of every case we’ve gotten so far, you get:

D – 136 (average score 3.2)

P – 148 (average score 3.5)

H – 210 (average score 5.0)

W – 218 (average score 5.2)

W is the highest metric. So either it needs to be the highest, and the balance only works if it’s at the top...

…Or Freddie is lying about what’s needed, and intentionally trying to send things haywire.

Not too much mercury or the world ends, not too much sulfur or we all go mad…

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Nineteen

So this chapter was half written over a month ago, and then school happened, but here it is!! I hope you all like it. plus some spice at the end

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n had a meeting with the managers, and then we get some studio time with the boys, and then onto dance practice! wc: 1621 AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst, with a slight bit of suggestive content warnings: suggestive content at the very end, anxiety, threats, mentions of unseen ass eating, I think that's it, but if I've missed any, please tell me! masterlist

Before either rapper could get another word out, the door opened and a staff member peeked in. “Hello, we need y/n for a moment.” They said to the trio in the room, eyes focused on Hongjoong. Hongjoong looked over at Mingi, both of them a bit suspicious about the intentions of staff, before realizing they shouldn’t antagonize their management any further, for now.

“Go on, y/n-ah,” the captain told the omega, “You remember the way here, yes? Come right back after you’re finished, if staff doesn’t bring you back.” Y/n got off of the couch and stood up, her hands coming to rest in front of her, as she tried to hide her nerves at being alone with the staff members. But she took a deep breath and gathered all her courage as she followed the staff member out of Hongjoong’s studio.

Following the staff member through the various hallways and down a floor, until the reached a similar conference room as the ones they had been in prior. Entering the room, they found a mix of staff members, and the production crew.

“Hello, y/n,” Ateez’s main manager welcomed her in, as she sat down, “We’re here to chat about your role in Ateez.”

That put her on edge, and she wished she had one of the others there, as she would be way out of her depth. “What about my role?” She asked.

“Well, as evidenced by the feedback we heard from Hongjoong, you would fit in as a rapper, however we think that you would do better with some vocal training. Your improvement both vocally and dancing will also determine if you remain in the group, as if you don’t show improvement in both areas, we will terminate your employment and your place in the group.” He told you, in a very no nonsense tone, which was reflected in the serious expression on his face.

Y/n felt her stomach drop, her hands that were hidden by the table, were gripping the hem of her top so tightly that her fingers were almost cramping. She had to take a moment to calm herself down, to try and keep herself from either crying or yelling.

“I’m sure I’ll improve in both categories, and I already know that the members will be working with me both vocal and dance-wise.” She replied, her voice shaking the tiniest bit.

“Well, we hope that you’ll improve quickly then,” one of the others spoke up.

Y/n hadn’t seen this person before, though she assumed they were either from Ateez’s staff, or just a member of the company.

“I shall do my best to live up to expectations then,” Y/n knew her tone was a bit clipped, her frustration with this meeting slipping through.

If they didn’t think she was good enough, or needed improvement, why did she make the shortlist then? Considering that her being chosen was a staff decision. Either way, she would play by their rules, it wouldn’t be wise to make an enemy out of the company. However, it didn’t mean she would have to like it. But, she did sign up for it, so she’d go with the flow for now.

“May I return to the studio now? I don’t want to fall further behind than I already am,” she said.

“Of course. I assume you know your way back?” She was asked by the main manager, her main manager now, and y/n nodded. 

It was made clear by him that she was free to leave, and she made her exit quickly, and travelled back to Hongjoong’s studio, taking about five minutes to get there. Before she knocked on the door, she pulled her phone out, finding that the meeting had lasted 20 minutes, though it felt both shorter and longer than that. Raising her hand to knock on the wooden door, it was quickly opened by Mingi, and behind him she could see Hongjoong at the desk. 

“Oh, you’re back! That wasn’t long, what did they want to discuss with you?” Hongjoong asked, as she entered the room after Mingi moved out of the way.

“Oh, uhm, it was just some things regarding the group and my role, that’s all,” y/n replied, trying not to get into it much, even as she tugged at her outfit in slight anxiety. She was trying to keep a tight grip on her scent, so as not to derail their plans for the day, since she knew that that would likely happen if either alpha knew of the meeting’s contents.

She could tell that neither man was convinced with her answer, but they weren’t going to push the topic further, thankfully.

“Well, Mingi and I prepared some lines for you to try, so go ahead and hop in there so we can get started.” Hongjoong said, after a moment of silence.

Y/n followed the captain’s words, slipping into the recording booth and getting ready to start recording. She took a moment to leaf through the pages set out for her, finding that they had pulled a range of lines from throughout their songs, and from all the different members’ lines as well. She assumed it was to test her range, and see what might fit her for past and future songs. She saw a few of her own favorite lines in there, so she smiled at the sight of them. Hongjoong wanted to test her with lines like San’s first lines in Answer, or some of Wooyoung’s from Bouncy, among others. She finished getting herself set up, before looking up at the two men.

“I’m ready when you are,” she said to them, “Where do I start?”

“Start with Yeosang’s lines in Hala Hala. They should be the first one on that top page, if you haven’t messed them up in your look through them.” Mingi replied, being a little sassy.

“I will have you know that I didn’t. Plus I’m not the one who destroys their outfits, oppa.” She replied, just as snarky, referencing the many outfit mishaps with Mingi’s clothes.

“That’s uncalled for!” The taller rapper replied, though he had a smirk on his face that showed he wasn’t actually upset.

“Let’s focus, please.” Hongjoong said, before the conversation could derail them any further. “When you’re ready, y/n-ah.”

She nodded, and signalled that she was ready, and Hongjoong started up the music for her. She took a deep breath, before starting to sing. She knew this line was a bit difficult for her at times, but she powered through and hoped her voice didn’t crack on her.

Thankfully, it went smoothly, and after a few repeats of it, they had her move onto another line. And this is how it went for hours afterwards, or at least it seemed that long to y/n, since one couldn’t really tell how much time has passed since they came here. That was a downside to being indoors with no windows, and the reason she liked them, since she did seem to lose track of time, much like they seemed to do today.

“And you’re done, that was the last line we wanted you to try.” Mingi told her, beckoning her to come out of the booth, and she quickly did so, happy to be out of there.

She grabbed her phone which she had left on the couch, finding that it had only been an hour and a half since she went inside to record. She also found she had messages from those back home, including two she dearly missed. She had meant to text or call them, but with the chaos here, hadn’t gotten the chance to, besides that first night at the dorms. Remembering to message them later once she had finished for the day, she asked the two men where she had to go next.

“It’s time to go to the practice room next, with all of us this time.” Hongjoong said to her, grabbing his bag as Mingi did the same, before ushering the three of them out of the studio.

“This way,” Mingi said, grabbing y/n’s hand so they wouldn’t get left behind. “It’s just a floor down from here, it’s not far once you know the way. I’m excited to see what our firecracker can do. Yunho and Sannie spoke fairly highly of your skills, and how fast you learn.”

“I still have a lot to learn, I’m not sure I’ve earned their praise yet.” Y/n said, her cheeks warming up at Mingi’s words.

Hongjoong kept the elevator open for them, coughing to remind them he was inside, as they slipped in, both a bit embarrassed that they hadn’t noticed the older man entering it. He quickly punched the button to go down to the next floor, and it only took a second to get there, so they quickly exited once the doors opened, and walked the small distance to the practice room, passing a few of the Xikers members on the way. She bowed in greeting as the elder two idols promised the younger ones that they’d introduce their new member to the whole group soon.

“We’re here,” Hongjoong announced, only to stop quickly, not letting y/n pass through the door, though he let Mingi. “Guys, really?” He said, it being immediately clear that the man was disappointed with whatever was going on in there.

“Are you really surprised, hyung? It’s us.” She heard Jongho’s voice come from inside the room.

“No, I’m not, but y/n is here, and I’m sure as hell that she wouldn’t want to see you getting your ass eaten out in the practice room, Jung Wooyoung.”

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[honeydippedfiction]

No Huddle, No Strings {JB9}

Part 1.

Navigation

Synopsis: When rising R&B star Y/N meets star quarterback Joe Burrow during her tour stop, neither of them is looking for love — but tension, temptation, and a no-strings arrangement change everything. Between city lights, stadium crowds, and stolen moments, they learn that sometimes the best plays are the ones you never planned.

Warnings: Suggestive/Spicy Scenes, Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Mature Themes, Mild Public Attention.

Themes: Slow Burn to Situationship, Fame & Performance Pressure, Flirtation & Tension, Modern Romance, Group Dynamics, Female Empowerment, “No Strings” Situationship, & Luxury Lifestyle.

WC: 17.5k

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Part 2

Y/N was already carving her own lane in the industry.

An upcoming Black singer and actress, she was right on the edge of her breakout. Her name had started to bubble up on music blogs and casting directors' shortlists. She wasn’t a household name — yet — but people were definitely paying attention. One minute she was uploading covers and original tracks to Instagram from her bedroom, and the next, she was being flown out for meetings with record execs and reading scripts for pilots backed by major streaming platforms.

Her voice — rich, emotional, laced with soul — had that kind of depth you couldn’t teach. It was the kind of sound that made people stop mid-scroll. And her acting? Natural, raw, and full of range. She brought characters to life like she’d lived a thousand lives before this one.

She’d recently wrapped her first supporting role in an upcoming drama series, and the early buzz around her performance was glowing. The media had started to call her “one of the voices to watch in 2024,” and brands were already knocking, hoping to catch her on the rise.

Still, none of the glitz changed who she was — a Baltimore girl at heart. Which is why, when the NFL reached out and asked her to perform the National Anthem at the Ravens vs. Bengals game, she didn’t hesitate. Singing for her hometown team? It wasn’t just another stage. It was a full-circle moment.

And she wasn’t going to miss it for the world.

She came to the Baltimore Ravens vs. Cincinnati Bengals game to support her Ravens — her hometown ride-or-dies. This was personal. Singing the National Anthem under the lights, in front of a packed stadium, was a full-circle moment. One that little Y/N would’ve dreamed about while wearing her oversized Ed Reed jersey in front of the TV.

Before the performance, she got the chance to float around the sidelines, guided by a PR handler who seemed just as excited to introduce her as she was to be there. “Y/N, this is Marlon Humphrey,” the handler said, motioning to the Ravens cornerback.

Marlon gave her a dap and a warm smile. “Oh, you the voice we heard warming up earlier? Yeah, that gave me chills.”

She laughed. “Just tryna do right by the city.”

Another player called out, “Make sure y’all don’t cry when she starts hittin’ them high notes!”

She grinned, clearly in her element.

But then came the surprise — a detour to the Bengals sideline. She wasn’t here for them, but when she was introduced to Ja’Marr Chase, Tee Higgins, and Joe Burrow, it felt like the game paused for a second.

Joe Burrow, Ja’Marr Chase, and Tee Higgins, standing casually near the Bengals bench, all suited up, pads on, helmets off. They looked like walking Nike ads. It was disrespectful how good-looking they were, honestly.

Yo,” Ja’Marr said with a nod when she approached. “You the one singing tonight?”

“That’s me,” she said, trying to stay cool.“

“You got that 'bout-to-break-the-Internet look going already,” Tee joked, eyes scanning her fit.

Joe stepped forward, offering his hand. “Joe. You probably already knew that.”

“I’ve heard,” she said, shaking his hand. His grip was warm, confident. His blue eyes locked on hers for a second longer than necessary.

Ja’Marr grinned immediately. “Okay, so who told y’all to bring a superstar over here?”

“I think she brought the spotlight with her,” Tee said, giving her an obvious once-over — not in a rude way, just appreciative. “Y’all know she’s in that new Amazon show, right?”

Joe stepped forward. “Big fan already. I saw the trailer last week.” His voice was calm, low, smooth. Eyes locked onto hers like he wasn’t just saying it to be polite.

“Appreciate it,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “But tonight, I’m just the anthem girl.”

“You sure about that?” Joe asked, one brow raised. “'Cause you’re stealing the whole show and it hasn’t even started.” She couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped. “You Bengals boys are real smooth.” Tee nudged Ja’Marr. “Man, let her sing. She’s gonna have us all emotional before kickoff.”

“Y’all acting nervous,” she teased.

“Nah,” Ja’Marr said. “Just starstruck.” “You nervous?” Ja’Marr asked. She smirked. “Not at all. You?” He let out a laugh. “Aight, bet.” Joe tilted his head slightly. “You’re from Baltimore, right?”

“Born and raised.”

“So you’re rooting against us tonight.”

“Obviously.”

Tee leaned in. “Damn, she bold.”

“Just honest,” she shot back, grinning.

“Alright, we need a pic with the star of the night,” Ja'Marr said, already motioning to one of her media team members.

They lined up — her in the middle, flanked by Bengals, all smiles. Joe rested a hand gently on the small of her back. The camera flashed. “You’re gonna kill it,” he said under his breath as they broke apart. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Watch me.”

The roar of the stadium was still buzzing in Y/N’s ears long after the National Anthem ended and the Ravens-Bengals game had kicked off. She stood on the sidelines for a few minutes longer, soaking in the energy, the cheers, the tension. She was there to support her Ravens, of course — she was Baltimore born and raised — but her purpose tonight was bigger than the scoreboard.

She’d just delivered a soulful, goosebump-worthy rendition of the anthem in a fitted black trench coat that sparkled like the night sky under the stadium lights. Her team had snapped photos of her belting the final note, the flag behind her, and a few more candid ones — her laughing with some of the Ravens players, then a couple with Bengals wide receivers Ja'Marr Chase and Tee Higgins. And, to her own surprise… a photo with Joe Burrow.

She wasn’t blind. The Bengals’ QB was easy on the eyes — tall, calm, with a smirk that could melt screens. But still. Y/N wasn’t here for all that.

Her Instagram feed lit up minutes after the game with a carousel her media team posted: 📸 National Anthem moment. 📸 Laughing with a couple Ravens. 📸 Standing between Ja'Marr and Tee, both grinning. 📸 One with Joe, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, both of them mid-laugh.

The tags were there. The captions were simple. The internet, predictably, went nuts.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Back at her hotel, the post-game adrenaline still thrumming through her, Y/N was in her suite's bathroom, putting finishing touches on her edges and lip gloss before dinner. She was humming something new she’d been writing, when—

“Y/N!!”

Her best friend Kayla’s voice came slicing through the suite like a siren. “What?” Y/N called, not even turning around. She expected another over-the-top comment about her voice cracking the internet. “You got a DM, girl. Guess who.” Kayla’s voice was already reaching a pitch of scandalous excitement.

Y/N stepped into the bedroom, one brow raised. “From who?” Kayla held up the phone, her eyes wide, glowing like she’d seen Beyoncé herself. “Joe. Freaking. Burrow.”

Y/N blinked. “Nah.”

“YEAH.”

“Nooo…”

Kayla turned the phone toward her with all the drama of a movie reveal. “And I quote: ‘You sounded amazing tonight. Think I just became a Ravens fan… but don’t tell the guys. 😉’”

Y/N covered her face with her hands, groaning. “Girl, no. Nope. I am not about to get distracted.”

Kayla, undeterred, unlocked the phone with Y/N’s passcode and read the DM again, grinning hard. “Girl if you don’t climb this white boy like a TREE—”

“I do not have time for this!” Y/N said, laughing despite herself. “I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow, soundcheck, a whole damn show!”

“And what better way to unwind after the show than with a cute little flirt session?” Kayla flopped on the bed. “At least invite him to the soundcheck. That man looked like he’d be on time. Respectful. Fine.”

Y/N gave her a look.

“And his friends too,” Kayla added with a smirk. “That number 5? Tee? He looks like he knows how to give it good.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “You are wild.”

Kayla shrugged. “I’m not wrong.”

The phone buzzed again. Another message from Joe popped up: “No pressure. Just thought I’d shoot my shot. You crushed that anthem.” Y/N stared at it for a second, chewing on her bottom lip. Then she sighed, snatched the phone from Kayla, and started typing.

“Thanks, Mr. QB1. You clean up alright yourself. If you’re still in town, pull up to my show tomorrow. I’ll save a spot for you and your boys.”

Pause. She added a wink emoji. Hit send. Kayla squealed. Y/N shook her head. “I’m not catching feelings.”

Kayla winked. “Nope. Just catching flights and flirting with quarterbacks.”

Joe’s phone buzzed as he sat back in his hotel room, one ankle crossed over his knee, game tape playing quietly in the background — not that he was watching it. Not really.

His mind kept drifting back to earlier that night — the game, yeah, but mostly her. Y/N.

He wasn’t usually thrown off by much. Being a quarterback, especially this quarterback, meant staying cool under pressure. But something about her on that field had stuck with him. The confidence. The voice. The way she didn’t fawn over him like most people did when they recognized him. She was real. Funny. Sharp.

And beautiful? Yeah. But it wasn’t just that.

She had presence.

He’d seen the photos she posted — the one with him, Ja'Marr, and Tee included. He didn’t even hate the way he looked in it, which said something. Still, he almost didn’t send the message. He wasn’t the type to slide into DMs. But after running through the “should I/shouldn’t I” loop for a full hour, he figured: screw it.

No pressure. Just thought I’d shoot my shot. You crushed that anthem.Sent.

Then, silence. He set his phone down and tried to refocus, flipping through the playbook, but glanced over every few seconds. The screen stayed dark. His brain taunted him: Told you.

Then — buzz.

He grabbed it faster than he meant to.

Thanks, Mr. QB1. You clean up alright yourself. If you’re still in town, pull up to my show tomorrow. I’ll save a spot for you and your boys. 😉

A grin tugged at his lips. He leaned back, letting the phone rest on his chest, eyes still on the message. Smooth. Confident. Just like her. He opened a new message.

I wouldn't miss it. And if you're saving spots, I’m calling dibs on front row. Just for research purposes. Gotta see if the voice hits just as hard live. 😉

He hit send, chuckling to himself. Joe may not have planned on being in Baltimore past the game, but after that message? Yeah… He was definitely extending the trip.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The next day moved fast — soundcheck days always did. Y/N was in full go-mode, bouncing between vocal warmups, makeup touch-ups, and outfit approvals while her best friend/dancer Kayla kept the energy high.

“Okay but why is this bodysuit giving superhero?” Kayla said, twisting in front of the mirror in the green room.

Y/N smirked as she pulled on her thigh-high boots. “Because we are about to shut it down. I need all the bad bitch energy tonight.”

Kayla nodded, flipping her hair dramatically. “Say less. We’re giving power, pussy, and precision.”

Y/N laughed but refocused, pacing the room softly as her soundcheck crew called in updates through her in-ear. She was used to the routine by now, but today felt different. Her body was still carrying the buzz from last night — the stadium, the crowd, and… that DM from Joe Burrow.

She hadn’t told anyone she invited him — not even her manager. Kayla knew, obviously. Kayla always knew. But Y/N didn’t want to give the media, or her own imagination, anything more to feed off. Still… she couldn’t deny the way her stomach fluttered just thinking about him showing up.

Her music wasn’t shy — it was bold, playful, sexy. A blend of Doja Cat’s slick confidence, Latto’s grit, and Sabrina Carpenter’s sugar-laced sensuality. She didn’t just sing about desire — she made it a performance. This was her power, and she was stepping into it fully.

Out front, Y/N’s manager, Carmen, greeted a group walking in through the venue’s side door.

Four men. All tall, all dressed down but still unmistakable. Joe, Tee, Ja’Marr, and Sam Hubbard.

Carmen’s brows raised slightly — she had no idea this was happening, but she recovered quickly.

“Hey! I’m Carmen, Y/N’s manager.” She reached out to shake Joe’s hand, then the others. “I heard she extended an invite, huh?”

Joe gave that cool half-smile. “Yeah. We didn’t want to miss it.”

“Well, she’s in the green room getting ready, but you’re welcome to hang here at front of house,” she said, gesturing to the open space by the soundboard. “You’ll get a great view. She’s about to start soundcheck.”

As they walked over, Tee leaned in to Ja’Marr. “You think she’s actually gonna remember us?”

Ja’Marr smirked. “I think she remembers him.”

Joe said nothing, just looked out at the stage — empty for now, lights low. But he could already picture it. Her. Mic in hand. Owning the room.

Sam chuckled, nudging Joe. “You nervous, bro?”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “Just here to support the music.”

“Sure,” Tee muttered, grinning. “Support. Uh-huh.”

Carmen looked over her shoulder. “She’ll be out in two.”

Back in the green room, Y/N checked herself in the mirror one last time — her curls in a half up half down style, light makeup, a black crop top paired with a leather skort hugging every curve like it was designed just for her.

“You look like a damn problem,” Kayla said, leaning in the doorway.

Y/N shrugged with a smile. “Good.”

Because she knew who was waiting out there.

And this? This was just the beginning.

From backstage, Kayla leaned just enough around the heavy black curtain to get a peek at the front of house.

She spotted them immediately.

“Whew. Girl,” she whispered dramatically, pulling back with wide eyes. “Your man is here.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, fixing the strap on her bra. “He is not my man.”

Kayla grinned. “Mmhm. Joe Burrow, just casually standing out there lookin’ like an NFL ad — all calm, tall, and white-boy-seasoned. And the rest of his Avengers squad’s with him.”

Y/N groaned, but her smile gave her away.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Kayla’s wrist. “Let’s go say hi before you start narrating this like it’s a Wattpad story.”

They weaved through the maze of black cases, cables, and crewmembers toward the open space at the front of house, where the guys stood chatting with Y/N’s sound engineer, Malik, laughing about something none of them would probably admit to later.

As soon as the group noticed Y/N and Kayla approaching, the conversation paused like someone had hit mute.

Joe’s eyes landed on her first. He smiled — slow, real — and stepped forward instinctively, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

“Didn’t want to miss the pre-show magic,” he said.

Y/N raised a brow. “You mean soundcheck? This is the part where I pretend I’m not sweating under this outfit.”

Tee laughed. “You make it look easy.”

Y/N gave him a playful side-eye. “That’s the point.”

Kayla chimed in, “Be honest, y’all just came to see her in this skirt.”

Ja’Marr grinned. “I mean… you’re not wrong.”

Y/N shot him a look. “Didn’t your team just lose to mine last night?”

Ja’Marr held up both hands. “Damn. Friendly fire.”

Joe chuckled, and Sam gave a low whistle like he’d just witnessed a flag-worthy play.

“But really,” Y/N said, smoothing a hand over her curls, “I’m glad y’all came. I’m gonna run a couple songs, test levels, in-ears, all that fun stuff. You’ll see the whole thing.”

“You think we haven’t heard your music already?” Tee asked.

Y/N tilted her head. “Have you?”

Before anyone else could answer, Ja’Marr cut in with that trademark smirk. “Us? Fake fans? Please. We’re not you, Miss Baltimore turned Bengal.”

The whole group laughed, even Joe, who shook his head slowly like he saw that one coming.

Y/N pointed at Ja’Marr, amused. “You got jokes, huh? Keep playin’ with me, I’ll make you my backup dancer tonight. You got rhythm or just routes?”

“Ooooh,” Kayla chimed, fanning the air.

Ja’Marr bowed in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll behave.”

“Good,” Y/N said with a wink. “Now, enjoy the free preview. We start in five.”

She turned with Kayla, heading back toward the stage entrance.

Joe watched her go, and for a moment, he forgot there were other people around him.

Tee nudged him, muttering under his breath, “Yeah… you real lowkey about this one, huh?”

Joe just smirked. “I’m just here for the music.”

As Y/N turned to head backstage, her best friend, Kayla, couldn't help but catch the way Joe’s eyes followed her. Even as she walked away, his gaze stayed locked on her, a little too intent, a little too… lingering.

Kayla raised her brows, a teasing grin spreading across her face as she nudged Y/N. "Ohhh, girl, you see that? His eyes never left you."

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to stay composed as she walked faster, but Kayla kept up with her, now practically bouncing with excitement.

“Definitely thinking about something,” Kayla added with a mischievous wink. “Something real... fitting for that little outfit of yours.”

Y/N shot her a look. “Kayla, please. You need to chill.”

But Kayla only shrugged, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I’m just saying, you might wanna check if the man’s about to throw a touchdown or a date proposal your way.” She looked over her shoulder toward where Joe stood with the guys, his expression still unreadable but totally locked on her.

Y/N pinched her best friend’s arm hard enough to make her yelp. “You’re wild.”

Kayla pouted but couldn’t hide the sparkle in her eyes. “You’re welcome. Just keeping you aware, in case he’s ready to make moves.”

Y/N groaned, but even she had to admit — that look from Joe? It felt different than just a casual fan thing.

“Whatever,” she muttered, trying to focus on the soundcheck. "Let’s just get this over with. I need to hit these notes, not flirt with quarterbacks."

But Kayla didn’t let up. “You’re not fooling me, Y/N. I see you about to score in more ways than one tonight.”

Y/N shot her a side-eye. “I’m seriously not catching feelings.”

Kayla winked. “Nah, you’re just catching flights and flirting with quarterbacks. It’s cool, I got you.”

Y/N shook her head, finally breaking into a smile. “Okay, you’re so extra.”

The lights dimmed in the venue, and the stage was bathed in soft, cool blue hues, giving everything a sleek, almost ethereal glow. Y/N stepped back onto the stage for soundcheck, every inch of her commanding attention. Her boots clicked on the stage floor, sharp and steady, like a countdown to something major.

As the band set up, Kayla was already in position, her body language giving away the anticipation. The dancers stretched and prepped, glancing over at Y/N with nods of encouragement.

The moment the beat dropped, Y/N swayed effortlessly into the opening bars, her voice a perfect blend of silky and fierce. The first song was a banger — a blend of playful confidence, unapologetic energy, and sultry, pop-driven sensuality. It was electric. And it was all Y/N.

Her voice floated seamlessly, layering with the bass and smooth melodies while her body moved with precision. The choreography was tight — sharp, sultry, and fierce all at once, each movement calculated to bring out the best in the song. Her dancers were synchronized perfectly, as if they were extensions of herself, amplifying the energy.

She nailed the high notes effortlessly, sending chills through the room. Kayla was in the front row, her eyes glued to her best friend, watching Y/N like she was watching a star in her element.

“Yes, girl!” Kayla called out, her voice echoing off the walls. Y/N shot her a quick wink, then turned to the mic again, belting out another verse with full power.

Everything — the choreography, the vocals, the entire performance — was pristine. Perfect. Just the way she liked it.

Malik, her sound engineer, nodded approvingly from the side, keeping an eye on the monitors. “You’re killing it, Y/N. Keep that tempo, keep that energy.”

Y/N gave him a quick thumbs-up, confident but focused. This wasn’t the first soundcheck, but it was one of the smoothest. Everything flowed effortlessly, like she was born to do this.

As the last note of the song echoed out, the beat faded into the silence of the venue. She paused, eyes scanning the space as the dancers took their last position. The crowd wasn’t here yet, but Y/N felt that invisible pull — the same rush she got every time she hit a stage, every time the music swirled around her and she lost herself in it.

The team clapped, cheering her on.

“Perfect, as always,” Kayla said, coming up to her side.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “This one’s gonna be fire. I’m telling you.”

Before she could say anything else, Joe, Ja'Marr, Tee, and Sam appeared at the edge of the stage, quietly watching, their eyes glued to her every move. Y/N could feel the weight of their gaze, especially Joe’s, but she kept her focus sharp.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t break a sweat.

"You guys good?" she asked, casually walking over to the edge of the stage where they were standing.

Joe gave her a slow, appreciative nod. “More than good. That was... wow.”

Tee grinned. “Man, you should definitely go on tour with that energy. You made this look easy.”

Ja'Marr added with his signature smirk, “I’m just saying, this show already beat last night’s game. And that was supposed to be the highlight of my weekend.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, letting the light teasing slide. “I’d argue, but you’re right. My performance’s gonna be way better than that Ravens/Bengals game.”

Sam, ever the quiet one, just gave her a nod of approval, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes softened, though, as if he was seeing her in a whole new light.

“Damn,” he said quietly. “You’re about to make this crowd lose their minds.”

Y/N smirked, glancing over her shoulder at Kayla and the crew. “That’s the plan.”

Joe, still watching her, spoke up again. “You mind if we stick around for the show?” His voice was casual, but there was something deeper beneath the surface — something like... anticipation.

Y/N met his gaze, a hint of a smile curling on her lips. “Of course. Grab a seat. Just don’t expect to be able to breathe by the end of it.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The clock was ticking down. The show was getting closer to starting, but before Y/N could hit the stage, there was one more thing to do: the VIP meet-and-greet.

She was in her green room, quickly checking herself over in the mirror one last time. The bodysuit was still on point, her makeup flawless, and her energy was electric. She wasn’t nervous—that wasn’t her style—but there was always a little extra buzz before she interacted with her die-hard fans.

The VIP package included a photo session, a Q&A, a game (nothing too crazy, just fun), and a special acoustic performance that she’d prepped for. Y/N loved the intimate moments with fans — it was one of the few times she could really connect and see the impact her music had on people. But today, she had a special request for her football friends.

She turned to Kayla, who was sitting in a chair, scrolling through her phone. "Hey, I’m about to start with the VIPs. You think the guys can come hang in here, chill out for a bit?”

Kayla raised an eyebrow. "You want them in here, dodging your fans?"

Y/N shrugged with a mischievous smile. "Why not? They’ll get a break before the madness kicks off. They can hide in here, watch me handle my business, and then get a front-row seat for the show."

Kayla chuckled, shaking her head. “You’ve got the right idea. Bet Joe’s down for that.”

A few minutes later, Joe, Tee, Ja'Marr, and Sam made their way into the green room, careful to avoid the maze of fans that were already starting to line up outside the venue. The room instantly felt a little more laid-back with them there — even with the energy of the show buzzing through the walls.

"Nice hideout," Joe commented, looking around at the cozy green room filled with Y/N’s crew, a couple of comfy chairs, and a couch. "I thought you’d be drowning in fans by now."

Y/N grinned. "They’re out there, but I’m gonna let them wait a bit longer. You guys need anything before I head out there?"

"Some food would be nice," Tee joked, but Ja'Marr elbowed him, his eyes dancing with mischief. "He’s always hungry. You’re not fooling anyone."

Sam smiled softly from his corner, hands still in his pockets, but his eyes were alert, taking everything in.

Kayla stood up, already reaching for the snacks table in the corner. "We’ve got chips, candy, protein bars, the works. You know, the real backstage essentials."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Yeah, real gourmet stuff."

Joe shrugged, settling onto the couch with his legs spread comfortably. "Gourmet or not, I’ll take it."

Y/N flashed him a knowing smile. "No one’s judging you here, Mr. QB1. Take a load off. It’s gonna be a few minutes before the chaos hits, so you might as well get comfortable."

Just then, her manager, Carmen, knocked on the door, entering with a quick smile. "Alright, we’re about five minutes out. VIPs are ready for you, Y/N."

Y/N nodded, her pulse picking up just a little. The Q&A session and acoustic performance always gave her a rush. It was personal, it was raw, and it was a reminder of why she did all of this in the first place — for the fans who supported her.

She turned to the guys. "Alright, well, you guys get to chill here. Feel free to hang out, watch the madness, but don’t get too comfortable. You’ll want to be front and center when I hit the stage."

Joe raised his eyebrows, looking around at the group. "I think we’re already comfy enough."

Ja'Marr nodded, looking like he was mentally preparing himself. "We’ll make sure we’re ready for the show, don’t worry. But I gotta say, watching you run things like this? Pretty impressive."

Y/N gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, but her mind was already moving on to the next thing. "Appreciate it. Now, I gotta go give these fans a little magic."

Kayla followed her out the door, but before she did, she turned back to the guys. "No funny business, alright? If she comes back here and y’all are missing, I swear I’ll make you run a lap around the block."

The guys all laughed, and Joe gave a mock salute. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Y/N grinned and walked out into the VIP area, where her die-hard fans were ready and waiting to meet her. She was ready for them, and ready to leave an impression on them just like she did with the guys.

The moment Y/N stepped into the VIP lounge, the energy shifted.

Cameras were already out. Her fans — a group of maybe 30 lucky ones — instantly erupted into soft gasps and whispers, a few louder cheers breaking through.

“OMG she’s so pretty in person.” “She’s wearing the boots from the video!” “She smells like expensive skin care and success, I just know it.”

Y/N smiled and waved, radiating confidence. “Hey y’all,” she said, voice sweet but commanding. “Thank you for coming early — y’all are real ones.”

They ate it up. One girl in the front clutched her signed vinyl like it was a sacred object. A couple fans had even made shirts with her lyrics printed across the front.

“Y’all really showed out,” Y/N said, pausing in front of one of the shirts. “‘Talk to me nice or not at all’? Okay, that’s a deep cut!”

The girl beamed. “It’s my favorite! That song got me through the worst breakup of my life.”

“I love that,” Y/N said, her tone softening. “That’s why I do this.”

After a round of photos — all angles, all poses, peace signs and fierce pouts alike — they shifted into Q&A mode, her team setting up a mic in the center aisle.

Someone asked about her songwriting process. Another wanted to know which music video she had the most fun filming. Someone else asked what cologne she made the male lead in her last video wear (that one made her laugh for a full minute).

But then came a question from a girl in the back, clearly nervous. “Um… is it true that you were at the Bengals game last night? Like… with Joe Burrow?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile tight but amused. “With Joe Burrow? Girl, I was singing the anthem. I was with America.”

The crowd howled.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Back in the green room, the guys could hear the laughter from down the hall.

“She’s working the room like she’s running for office,” Tee said with a laugh, kicking back on the couch.

Joe tilted his head, listening closer. “She’s funny. Sharp.”

“She’s dangerous,” Ja’Marr added. “In a good way. Like, she’ll ruin your life and still get a standing ovation.”

Joe didn’t disagree. He couldn’t. His knee bounced a little as he sat there, trying to play it cool. But inside, he was… caught. Not in a deep, lovestruck way — not yet — but definitely hooked.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Back in the lounge, Y/N gathered her guitar, stepping into the spotlight as her team adjusted a stool and handed her a mic.

“This next part is my favorite,” she said. “We’re gonna slow it down. No tracks. No lights. Just me, my guitar, and y’all.”

She strummed once, twice. The room went completely still.

Then she started to sing — a stripped-down version of her unreleased track, “Thigh High Lies.” Her voice melted into the silence, rich and slow, dripping with the sensual confidence that defined her sound. The lyrics were cheeky and sultry, biting but beautiful.

"You said you want real, I showed you the skinYou couldn’t handle the truth I’m inTold me I was ‘too much,’ baby that’s fine—I’d rather be too much than a waste of time."

By the end, the crowd was swaying, mouths slightly open. Some wiped tears. One girl mouthed, “She’s insane,” like she was witnessing Beyoncé’s origin story.

Y/N set the guitar down and gave them one more grin. “See y’all out there later. Bring the same energy — and don’t be shy when the beat drops.”

The room erupted into applause as she headed back toward the green room, her team buzzing around her.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

By the time Y/N returned to the green room, everything about her screamed main character energy.

She had changed into her actual show fit—a deep violet two-piece with glittering mesh sleeves, and thigh-high heeled boots.. Her hair was slicked up into a dramatic half up half down style that moved like a whip every time she turned her head.

The room paused. Even her team, who saw her every day, had to do a double take.

Kayla whistled. “Oh, you look like danger.”

Y/N smirked, applying one last swipe of gloss in the mirror. “That’s the point.”

Over by the corner couch, Joe, Tee, Ja’Marr, and Sam were all watching her warm up — quiet, low runs under her breath, a few neck rolls, then a bounce on her heels to shake off the nerves. Her body buzzed with the tension of pre-performance adrenaline, but her focus was dialed in.

She turned to them, ever the one to look out for others—even in her own moment.

“You guys figured out where you wanna watch from?” she asked, adjusting her in-ear pack. “If you stay side stage, you’ll catch all the behind-the-scenes madness. If you go out in the crowd, I can have my security keep an extra eye on you. Just say the word.”

The guys glanced at each other, like they hadn’t even thought about that part yet.

Joe stepped forward first. “We’ll hit the crowd. Front row. Don’t wanna cramp your space backstage.”

“You sure?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “No one’s gonna mess with you, but if someone tries it, I’m not above pausing a show.”

Ja’Marr laughed. “Now that I would pay to see.”

“We’ll be good,” Tee assured her. “But appreciate the lookout.”

Y/N nodded, serious again. “I don’t play when it comes to safety. Not for my fans, not for my team, not for y’all. Just let security know if anything gets weird.”

Sam, who hadn’t said much, gave her a respectful nod. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

She smiled, touched but still laser-focused. “I get that a lot.”

A knock at the door signaled her five-minute call. Her assistant peeked in, giving her the sign.

Y/N turned to the guys once more, her expression softening just a little. “Alright. I’m heading out there. Y’all enjoy the show — don’t blink, or you’ll miss the best parts.”

Joe offered her a hand. Not a handshake — just a brief touch. His fingers brushing hers, firm but warm. “You got this.”

Her lips curled into a confident smirk. “You know I do.”

Moments later, the guys were being escorted to the VIP barricade, front and center. Fans were already losing their minds, the lights dimming as the crowd buzzed in electric anticipation. Some recognized the players immediately — a few phones even pointed their way — but security kept a tight bubble around them, just like Y/N promised.

The lights dropped.

The music started.

And when Y/N took the stage — striding into the spotlight like she owned it, voice pouring through the speakers with that signature sensual power — Joe realized this wasn’t just a concert.

This was a woman in her element.

And he wasn’t just watching.

He was already falling.

The lights dropped. The bass rumbled like a heartbeat through the floor. A slow hush fell across the venue as fog started to curl out from the stage edges like smoke from a lit fuse.

Then—

Boom.

The first beat dropped, and the stage exploded in color.

Y/N rose from a platform lift center stage, hair whipping in the wind from the fans, spotlight cutting through the fog to land squarely on her glittering figure. The crowd screamed—a sound that echoed like a stadium roar.

Her voice hit the speakers, silky and biting.

“Boys like you don’t know what to do with girls like me…”

The band came in, dancers hit the stage, and just like that, the show erupted.

Y/N’s choreography was fire — sensual, controlled, hypnotic. She owned every move, her hips timed to every bassline like she was built for the beat. Her dancers moved around her like a constellation, enhancing her shine without ever dimming it.

Her setlist was stacked:

🔥 "Lip Locked" – a seductive banger with tongue-in-cheek lyrics and a strut-heavy routine 🔥 "Private Party" – the crowd sang every word, swaying under purple lights and strobes 🔥 "Control Freak" – choreo sharp enough to cut glass, with Kayla leading the charge beside her 🔥 "Thigh High Lies" (full version) – stripped back for one verse, then dropping into a full-on club mix halfway through, triggering a massive dance break 🔥 "Don’t Call Me Baby" – sassy, anthemic, a fan-favorite for every girl who blocked their ex last summer

At one point, she paused at the edge of the stage, looking out into the sea of bodies.

“Y’all still with me?” she asked, mic in one hand, other resting on her thigh.

The crowd lost their minds.

She laughed, breathless and glittering. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The visuals? Insane. Neon lights, LED panels flashing her lyrics, and holographic silhouettes that danced with her like a digital dream.

And vocals? Baby, she wasn’t lipsyncing — Y/N was belting. Hitting high notes, flipping into falsetto, and sliding into sultry runs that made fans scream and fall back like they caught the Holy Ghost. The girl could sang.

Even her in-between moments hit different.

“Y’all ever been in love with the wrong person?” she asked before launching into a slower song. Half the crowd yelled yes. “I wrote this one on a wine-fueled rant in my Notes app. It’s called ‘Blocked You Twice.’”

The crowd died laughing. And then she wrecked them with the vocal.

The final number was "Big Mood" — a bold, dance-heavy track with a beat that felt like it vibrated your spine. The lights flared gold and red, pyro shot from the stage sides, and Y/N commanded it all like a pop goddess.

She hit the final pose, spotlight catching the sweat glistening on her collarbone, chest rising and falling.

And then — blackout.

The crowd exploded.

Screams. Applause. Chants of her name.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

Her voice came over the mic one last time in the dark. “Thank you Baltimore for the love, the energy, and the vibe. I’ll see you real soon.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Backstage, as she came off into the wings, chest still heaving and a towel now draped around her neck, the energy was still surging in her blood.

She’d left it all out there.

And she knew they felt it.

Backstage, the sound of the crowd was still rumbling through the floor like an aftershock.

Y/N stepped into the hallway behind the stage, chest rising and falling as she wiped sweat from her brow with a towel. Her glitter makeup was slightly smudged, but it only added to the look — like war paint after battle. Her boots were heavy on her feet, but adrenaline kept her floating.

The crew was buzzing around her, congratulating her, high-fives flying. Kayla ran over, still hyped, curls bouncing.

“Girl. GIRL. You lit that place up. They were losing their minds.”

Y/N let out a laugh, breathless and a little hoarse. “Did you see the girl crying during ‘Blocked You Twice’? I felt that in my soul.”

Kayla clutched her heart. “We all did.”

Her manager, Carmen, swooped in with a bottle of water and a smile that said money well made.

“Interviews want you. Blog posts are already up. And—” she nodded down the hallway, “your football friends? Still waiting by the green room.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily pulled out of the post-show haze. “They stayed?”

Carmen grinned. “Every second. Didn’t even flinch. Burrow looked like he was studying film on you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, even as a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Okay, but he looked like he wanted to fuck mid-‘Thigh High Lies,’ and I don’t even blame him.”

Y/N took a long drink of water, then handed the bottle off and started walking toward the green room, Kayla by her side. “Don’t start, Kayla.”

Kayla just smirked. “I’m just saying. He’s not blinking and you’re over here dripping in sparkles and power. It’s giving… fate.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

He didn’t move when the lights went down.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Barely breathed.

Joe Burrow had been to Super Bowls, heard stadiums scream, felt adrenaline spike in the final seconds of overtime. But this?

This was something else.

She owned that stage like she was born in it. Every lyric. Every move. Every smile and snarl. He’d seen confidence before — hell, he lived it. But this was different. Y/N had this kind of magnetism that felt… dangerous.

When she looked out into the crowd — when she smirked or dropped a wink — it felt like she was looking straight at him, even though he knew better.

But that didn’t stop the heat that crawled down the back of his neck.

Tee nudged him as the lights came back up. “You good, man?”

Joe blinked. “Yeah. Just…”

“Caught up?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just nodded, running a hand over his jaw. “She’s got it.”

Ja’Marr leaned on the barricade, laughing. “You just now figured that out?”

Sam grinned. “Man’s down bad.”

But Joe wasn’t embarrassed. Not even a little. His eyes were still fixed on the stage where she’d stood just minutes ago.

“I gotta talk to her,” he said quietly.

And none of the guys argued.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Backstage, Y/N turned the final corner, slowing when she saw them.

The guys were leaning against the wall just outside her green room — relaxed but alert, looking like they belonged in a postgame locker room and not backstage at a concert. But when Joe saw her, he straightened up immediately.

His eyes swept over her — the glitter on her collarbone, the shine of sweat on her skin, the way her eyes sparkled under the hallway lights. And for once, the quarterback was speechless.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, walking up casually. “You survive out there?”

Joe gave a slow nod. “Barely.”

Tee whistled low. “That was a damn performance. You had people ready to risk it all in the first verse.”

Y/N laughed. “Good. That’s what I was going for.”

Ja’Marr crossed his arms. “Nah but for real, that last song? Yeah, you hurt some feelings with that one.”

Sam nodded. “Even I was in my feels, I gotta call my fiance.”

She glanced back at Joe, whose hands were tucked in his pockets, eyes still lingering on her face.

“You good, QB1?” she teased.

Joe cracked a small smile. “You ever just… watch someone do what they were born to do?”

Y/N raised a brow.

“That was you,” he said simply.

The air shifted.

Kayla let out a tiny gasp behind her, mouthing damn like she was witnessing the beginning of something important.

Y/N smirked, but it was softer this time. “Careful, Burrow. You might end up on my next album.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The green room was back to buzzing.

Kayla had music playing low from her phone, the post-show playlist filled with vibey R&B and trap beats. Someone had cracked open a bottle of champagne — probably Tee — and snacks were being passed around like they hadn’t just watched a Grammy-level performance unfold twenty minutes ago.

Y/N had changed into an oversized vintage tee, tiny shorts underneath, and her stage boots traded for fluffy slides. She looked relaxed, cozy even — but her glow was still loud. Sweat-slicked skin, flushed cheeks, glitter clinging to her collarbones like it knew it didn’t want to let go.

The vibe was chill, but the air?

Thick.

Mostly because Joe hadn’t taken his eyes off her for more than five seconds at a time.

And everyone noticed.

“Well, if I was gonna start a fan club, I know who the president would be,” Ja’Marr muttered under his breath to Sam, nodding toward Joe.

Sam chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. “He’s locked in like it’s fourth quarter. But it ain’t the playbook he’s studying.”

Tee, grinning, leaned across the room toward Y/N. “So how much of your show was aimed at a certain quarterback in the front row?”

Y/N raised her brows, playing innocent as she lounged on the couch, sipping her sparkling water. “Please. My set was about me. As always.”

Kayla snorted. “Okay, and maybe a little for him.”

Y/N shot her a look but didn’t deny it.

Joe, still sitting across the room, arms resting on his knees, finally spoke — low and direct, eyes locked onto her.

“You gonna keep actin’ like you didn’t write ‘Private Party’ about me?”

The room froze for half a beat. Everyone’s heads snapped toward Joe like a record scratch hit.

Y/N didn’t miss a beat. She leaned forward slightly, voice smooth like honey with a hint of blade. “Bold of you to assume. But now I’m curious… why’d you think that song was about you?”

Joe shrugged, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Just sounds like something I’d get invited to.”

“Only if you bring snacks,” she shot back.

The room broke into laughter, but under it all, their eyes were still locked. Not a laugh shared between them — no, this was a game. Every look was a challenge, every word dipped in something heavier.

Kayla whispered to Ja’Marr, “They’re gonna combust.”

Ja’Marr nodded. “We’re watching the beginning of a situationship in 4K.”

Y/N finally stood, stretching just slightly, her shirt lifting to reveal the waistband of her shorts. Joe’s gaze flicked, just once — quick, respectful, but caught.

She saw it.

So did Kayla.

Y/N smirked as she walked to the mini fridge. “Y’all want anything? Water? Energy drink? A chill pill, Joe?”

Joe chuckled under his breath. “You’re the one with the heat.”

Tee raised his hands. “Alright! I need a buffer before y’all start making out with eye contact.”

Y/N tossed him a bottle of water without looking. “Calm down. I don’t kiss Bengals.”

Joe leaned back in his chair, still grinning, voice low. “We’ll see.”

That shut the room up real quick.

Y/N turned around slowly, head tilted, eyebrow raised.

“Oh?” she said. “We’ll see?”

Joe nodded once, cool and unbothered — but his jaw flexed, his posture all confidence with that undertone of tension she definitely clocked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re not as untouchable as you act.”

Kayla dropped her drink.

Ja’Marr whooped like someone hit a buzzer-beater.

But Y/N?

She didn’t flinch.

She walked past Joe slowly, brushing his shoulder with hers as she passed — just a whisper of contact, but enough to make him sit up straighter.

“I’m exactly as untouchable as I act,” she murmured.

And just like that, the heat was turned all the way up.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The green room was a full-blown vibe now — music up, drinks passed around, and half the group sitting cross-legged on the floor like it was a high school kickback with VIP credentials.

Tee had claimed the aux, switching the music to something smoother — SZA followed by Brent Faiyaz, the kind of tracks that made people speak in low tones and flirt without trying.

Y/N had curled up on the couch, long legs stretched across Kayla’s lap, while Ja’Marr and Sam were deep into a trash-talking debate about who was the most iconic duo in music history.

“I’m tellin’ you, OutKast clears everyone,” Sam said, motioning with his drink.

Ja’Marr raised an eyebrow. “You’re forgetting Beyoncé and Jay-Z exist.”

Kayla chimed in, “Okay, but if we’re talking raw performance and stage presence? Y/N and her dancers give everybody a run.”

“Awww,” Y/N said with a lazy grin, pretending to blush. “Y’all gassing me in my own green room.”

Joe, who was sitting in a low chair near the couch, just sipped his drink and spoke real calm.

“We’re not gassing. We’re stating facts.”

She looked at him over the rim of her water bottle. “Mmm. You’ve been real vocal tonight, Mr. Quarterback.”

He didn’t even blink. “You got me real… focused.”

Tee let out a loud “OOOOH” and clapped once like someone just got roasted on Wild ‘N Out.

Y/N laughed, sitting up a bit straighter. “You sure it’s not the champagne talking?”

“I haven’t had enough for that,” Joe replied, locking eyes again. “But I’ve had enough to stop pretending.”

The room stilled for half a second.

Even the music felt like it paused.

Kayla looked at Y/N with wide eyes like girl. girl. girl.

Y/N leaned forward on her elbows, tongue running over her bottom lip before she said, “Pretending about what?”

Joe set his cup down, slow and deliberate. “Like I didn’t notice you the second you stepped on that field. Or the stage. Or even in that damn oversized hoodie when you walked in earlier.”

Tee stood up and walked away in circles like someone had just dropped a diss track live. “This man got BARS tonight!”

“Is this a poem?” Ja’Marr asked. “Like… is he in love already? Should we leave?”

“No one’s leaving,” Kayla said quickly, eyes glued to the moment unfolding.

Y/N let the silence linger for a second — made him sweat just a little. Then she stood slowly and crossed the room, pretending like she was headed to grab another water but very intentionally brushing past Joe’s shoulder again.

Except this time?

She stopped.

Right beside him.

Close enough that he had to look up to meet her eyes.

She bent slightly, whispering with a wicked smile, “You get bold after dark, huh?”

Joe looked up at her like she was the only light in the room.

“I don’t need the dark to want you.”

Dead. Silence.

Kayla whispered to Tee, “You still got that water bottle? 'Cause I need to baptize myself.”

Sam looked at Ja’Marr. “I’ve watched entire romcoms with less tension.”

Y/N straightened up slowly, not backing down, not stepping away — just holding Joe’s gaze with that signature smirk.

“Careful, Burrow,” she murmured. “Quarterbacks who talk too smooth tend to fumble.”

Joe leaned back, spreading his arms over the chair, looking smug. “Good thing I play clean.”

Kayla fake-coughed. “So when is the wedding?”

The group cracked up again, the moment slightly breaking but the heat between Y/N and Joe didn’t cool — not even a little.

They kept throwing looks across the room, like they were speaking a whole other language only they could hear.

And everyone else?

They were just lucky to have front row seats.

Just as the tension between her and Joe hit that “somebody better call security” level, the green room door cracked open and Carmen, her manager, slipped inside, clipboard in hand and that familiar we need to move now look in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she called gently, “sorry to interrupt the... whatever this is—” she glanced between her and Joe with a knowing smirk— “but we’ve got a little fan moment happening outside the venue. A few dozen stuck around hoping you’d come out, nothing crazy, but it’s real sweet. Signs, shirts, gifts.”

Y/N straightened, tension loosening in her chest. “They waited?”

“Yep. In the cold,” Carmen added, tilting her head.

Kayla glanced at her best friend and whispered, “Go cool off. You’re about to melt in front of this man.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, already walking toward the door. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

As she stepped out into the cool night air, the soft hum of the crowd outside reached her ears. The security team had cleared a safe space in front of the barricade, and her fans — still buzzing from the concert — lit up when they saw her.

“Y/N!!!”

“SHE CAME OUT— OMG—”

“WE LOVE YOUUUU!”

The love hit her like a warm wave.

She smiled wide, real and unguarded, her entire body exhaling the tension from earlier.

Y/N moved through the little crowd, signing posters, T-shirts, and phone cases. People handed her drawings of her on stage, custom friendship bracelets, little heartfelt letters, and one sweet girl gave her a plushie shaped like a baby tiger with glitter eyes.

“Because you’re fierce,” she said, cheeks flushed with excitement.

Y/N melted. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

The fans asked questions about her music, complimented her set, even asked if she was dating anyone (which she dodged with a laugh and a dramatic “My career is my man right now”). It was loud but comforting — the kind of chaotic joy that reminded her why she did all this.

By the time she took the last picture and hugged the last fan, her arms were full of little gifts and her cheeks hurt from smiling. But her heart?

Overflowing.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Meanwhile, Back in the Green Room...

The minute Y/N walked out, the room turned on Joe.

Tee clapped his hands together. “So! When are you shooting the real shot, not this eye-fucking nonsense?”

“I don’t flirt,” Joe replied, deadpan.

Everyone: “LIES.”

Ja’Marr stretched out dramatically. “Bro, the way you look at her? I’ve seen less passion in wedding vows.”

Sam added, “And don’t think we didn’t catch that ‘I don’t need the dark to want you’ line. That was poetic. You practice that in the mirror?”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, fighting a grin. “Y’all are wild.”

“Nah, you’re wild,” Kayla jumped in, sipping from a soda can. “This man has been on ESPN, but couldn’t keep it together when Y/N got within ten feet. Your eyes were like—” she squinted and mimed slow, dramatic blinking. “‘My wife… my soulmate… the one the Lord promised me.’”

Everyone burst into laughter again.

Joe shook his head but didn’t deny it.

“I’m just saying,” Tee said, raising his drink. “If you don’t lock that in, someone else will.”

Joe’s smile dropped just a little — the competitive edge peeking through.

“She’s not just anyone,” he said quietly. “I’m not about to play games with that.”

The room actually went quiet for a second.

Even Ja’Marr sat up. “Wait. Are you serious-serious?”

Joe’s eyes didn’t leave the door she walked out of.

“I could be,” he muttered.

Sam: “Oh damn. He’s down bad.”

Kayla: “Down catastrophic.”

Tee: “Down so bad, he’s six feet under.”

Ja’Marr: “Buried in glitter and thigh-high boots. Rest in peace.”

The teasing picked up again, but Joe just sat there, still thinking about how Y/N had looked walking away — confident, glowing, and totally unfazed by the chaos she’d just left behind in his chest.

The door to the green room opened with a soft click, and every head turned.

Y/N walked in, glowing.Like, not just “stage lights and sweat” glowing — this was that loved-on, hugged-up, deeply-grateful-to-be-doing-this-shitkind of glow. Arms full of fan gifts — a bouquet of handmade bracelets wrapped around her wrist, rolled posters sticking out of a tote, a plush tiger nestled in the crook of her elbow.

Her smile was soft, dreamy. “They were so sweet,” she said, almost to herself. “They gave me bracelets. And look—” she held up a carefully sketched drawing of her in one of her performance outfits, eyes sparkling. “This one said she worked on it for three weeks.”

Kayla immediately jumped up to grab a few of the gifts from her arms. “Let me see— omg, that tiger is so cute. That for your bed or mine?”

“Girl, you have your own,” Y/N teased.

The group gathered around as she set her things down, everyone admiring the sweet haul — but Joe stayed seated, quiet, watching her like she had stardust trailing behind her with every step.

When she finally looked his way, their eyes met — and that smile?

Shifted.Still warm, but now it had edges. Curves. Intention.

“You good?” she asked him lightly, tucking one of the bracelets onto her other wrist.

Joe nodded, eyes still locked on hers. “Better now.”

Ja’Marr fake-coughed loud. “AHEM. Some of us are still in the room.”

Sam threw a chip at Joe. “Bro’s trying to seduce her in front of our very eyes.”

Y/N laughed and flopped back onto the couch next to Kayla, pulling one of the posters into her lap. “Please. He doesn’t have the range.”

“Oh?” Joe raised an eyebrow, leaning forward like she’d just challenged him to a rematch. “You sure about that?”

Tee leaned back, arms crossed, grinning wide. “Here we go again.”

Y/N crossed one leg over the other, posture all goddess-level confidence now. “Positive. I’ve been around the smooth talkers before. It’s cute. Predictable.”

Joe’s eyes dropped to the way her lips curved, then right back to her eyes. “I’m not trying to be predictable.”

“You’re trying to be impressive,” she shot back, calm and casual, “but you already saw how I do that.”

The room: OOOOOOHHHHHHHH.

Tee stood up and started pacing again. “That’s it. I can’t keep watching this. I’m stressed. My heart rate is up.”

Sam was shaking his head. “These two are gonna either hook up or fight in the parking lot.”

Kayla leaned toward Ja’Marr and whispered, “You feel that? That’s the tension. It’s humid in here now.”

But Y/N wasn’t done. She leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, voice smooth.

“But if you’re gonna keep watching me like that…” she tilted her head at Joe, who hadn’t looked away once, “...you might as well make yourself useful and open my water.”

The air cracked.A half-second of silence. And then—

Joe stood. Calm. Controlled. And walked over to her without a word.

He picked up the unopened bottle from the table, twisted the cap with a low snap, and handed it to her, eyes on hers the entire time.

“You want anything else?” he asked, voice low, almost teasing.

Y/N took the bottle, her fingers brushing his intentionally slow. She took a sip — never breaking eye contact — and said:

“Not yet.”

The room lost it again. LOUD.

Ja’Marr actually fell back onto the floor. Kayla started fanning herself with a paper plate. Sam was screaming into a throw pillow.

But Joe?

He just smirked and sat right beside her this time.

Not too close. But not far, either.

Just enough for everyone to know — this was not over.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The green room was still in shambles — emotionally, at least. Tee had switched playlists again, landing on some vibey Drake and Tems mix that had everyone lowkey swaying, shoulders rolling. The champagne was mostly gone, and someone had opened a second bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos that Kayla had claimed as hers via a very serious side-eye.

Y/N sat between Kayla and Joe now — though there was still a respectable inch or two of space between them.

Not that it mattered. Because the tension between them? Still doing laps.

Ja’Marr stretched out on the carpet, arms behind his head, like this was the best entertainment he'd had all year. “So what’s next?” he asked, looking at Y/N. “After this concert tour, are you disappearing into the studio or…?”

Y/N nodded, brushing a braid behind her ear. “Studio, definitely. I’ve got a collab cooking with someone major, but I can’t say who yet. And some film stuff in L.A. But for now…” She shrugged. “Just vibing. Taking it all in.”

“You deserve it,” Sam said, nudging Tee. “We haven’t shut up about your performance since it ended.” Y/N smiled, genuinely touched. “Y’all are sweet. Even though your team still took that L.”

That earned a round of groans and head shakes from the Bengals boys. “Low blow,” Tee muttered, tossing a Cheeto at her. “Facts,” Ja’Marr added, “especially from someone who ditched the Ravens the second Burrow blinked at her.”

Kayla gasped. “Oop.”

Joe? He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look away from Y/N when he said:

“She blinked back.”

Ohhhh.

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her smile sharp. “You are dangerously smooth.”

Joe tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Or just honest.”

Kayla leaned over Y/N’s shoulder, whispering loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Tell me why this man sounds like a walking bridge of one of your songs.”

Y/N clutched her chest. “Don’t tempt me, I’ll write it right now.”

“Title it ‘QB Sneak,’” Sam joked. “Make it spicy.”

“Make it explicit,” Tee added. “You know Spotify gon’ eat that up.”

Joe just leaned back with that calm little smirk that screamed I’m already in the booth, baby.

Ja’Marr clapped his hands once. “Alright, this vibe is too good. We’re not letting it die here. What’s the move? Afterparty? Food? We celebrating this show or what?” Kayla perked up. “There’s that rooftop lounge at the hotel. I heard the DJ there tonight is nasty with transitions.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You just wanna dance with somebody’s son.”

“Yeah,” Kayla said with zero hesitation, pointing at Ja’Marr. “Maybe that one.”

Ja’Marr: “I ain’t mad.”

Tee pulled out his phone. “I’ll text the driver. What are we thinking? Group outfits or chaos energy?”

Sam: “I’m already in chaos mode.”

Joe looked at Y/N, who was standing to grab her coat.

She caught the look. Held it for a second. Then said, “You comin’, QB1? Or you need a little more convincing?”

Joe stood, cool and easy, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I already told you. I don’t need convincing.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The hotel suite turned temporary dressing room was lit in soft gold from the lamps, the overhead lights dimmed low. Clothes were tossed over the backs of chairs, and makeup bags cracked open like treasure chests across the vanity.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, applying a glossy lip to finish her look — fresh outfit, fresh vibe.

She’d changed out of her post stage gear and into something way more relaxed: a cropped black halter top with an open back, paired with sleek satin joggers and crisp white sneakers. Still sexy, but effortless. A single gold chain hung around her neck and the tiny diamonds in her ears sparkled under the soft lighting.

Kayla, beside her, was pulling on a silky green two-piece set that looked like sleepwear for rich girls who didn’t actually sleep. She fluffed her curls and grinned at her reflection.

“If Joe didn’t want to put you through the mattress on that stage,” she said, spinning toward Y/N, “he’s about to blow his load now.”

Y/N just rolled her eyes, tucking her phone into a tiny crossbody bag. “He’s not even that serious.”

Kayla blinked at her. “Girl. He opened your water bottle like he was signing a prenup.”

Y/N laughed. “Shut up and grab your lip gloss.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Rooftop Lounge — 10:49 p.m.

The elevator doors opened and the rooftop hit different.

Soft purple and amber lights danced over the sleek lounge furniture, tall heaters flickering with fire, and a DJ posted at the far end spinning an R&B mix that made everybody move a little slower, a little smoother.

The view? All glittering city skyline.

The Bengals boys were already posted near the bar — Sam with a drink in hand, Ja’Marr mid-convo with a group of dancers, Tee dancing with someone’s girlfriend (or maybe just vibing), and Joe…?

Joe was watching the elevator.

And when Y/N stepped out?

Game over.

His gaze dropped for a second — not disrespectfully — just enough to take it all in. The outfit. The walk. The smirk.

Kayla leaned toward her like a devil on her shoulder. “You see his face? That man wants to be the drink in your hand.”

Y/N adjusted her top slightly and smirked. “Good.”

As the girls made their way over, drinks were ordered, seats claimed, and the energy stayed loud and electric. “You clean up nice, Miss VIP,” Tee said, holding out a drink he ordered for her. “I always clean up nice,” Y/N replied, taking the glass.

Joe stepped a little closer, eyes still lingering. “You trying to kill me?” he asked quietly. Y/N tilted her head. “Why? You good?”

He leaned in, low and warm in her ear. “Not even close.”

Her throat tightened for half a second, but she didn’t flinch. “Drink your whiskey, Burrow.”

The whole crew eventually migrated to the small dance floor area, where the music hit a little harder and the lights hit just right. Y/N and Kayla were dancing together — laughing, spinning, hands in the air — while the guys stood nearby, watching and swaying like typical athletes who could dance but weren’t gonna try too hard.

Until Joe stepped forward.

He didn’t say anything, just extended a hand toward Y/N like it was obvious.

She paused, brow raised, a challenge in her eyes.

“You don’t seem like the dancing type,” she said.

“I’m not,” Joe replied. “But I figured you’d make me look good.”

Kayla hooted in the background.

So Y/N took his hand.

And they danced. Slow at first — just moving in rhythm, close enough to share warmth but still keeping that teasing distance between them.

But his hand found her waist. And her fingers laced behind his neck. And suddenly, the bass wasn’t the only thing pulsing.

They moved together like this was a habit. Like they already knew how to sync. Like the tension had finally found a beat to lean into.

And the crew?

They were definitely watching.

“I’m just saying,” Ja’Marr muttered from the bar. “If they don’t kiss tonight, I’m throwing myself off this roof.”

Tee nodded solemnly. “Amen.”

The music shifted again, something slower, with a slight groove that made everyone’s movements sync even tighter. Y/N wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. She was definitely feeling it — the beat, the moment, the vibe with Joe. She kept it light, though, spinning away from him and twirling back in a way that made him watch her with dark eyes.

His hand followed. Caught her waist again.

She smirked up at him, a playful glint in her eye. “So, you know how to move. But can you keep up?”

Joe chuckled, the sound low and dangerously smooth. “I’ll keep up. I’m just waiting for you to really go for it.”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Is that a challenge?”

“I don’t know,” he teased back, his hand slipping lower to her hip. “Is it?”

The circle around them had gotten smaller. The guys had all shifted closer to the dance floor — they were still talking, but the glances they threw at Joe and Y/N were loaded. They knew.

Tee leaned toward Ja’Marr, his voice loud enough for the group to hear over the music. “This is either going to end in a makeout session or a boxing match. Either way, I’m here for it.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked toward them briefly, just enough to catch their teasing. She rolled her eyes but then shifted closer to Joe, leaning in so her lips nearly brushed his ear as she whispered, “Don’t get distracted now. I thought you were gonna show me something.”

Joe’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but he didn’t miss a beat. His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her even closer.

“You’re the one distracted,” he murmured. “It’s adorable.”

Y/N shot him a playful side-eye. “I’m not distracted. I’m focused.”

Joe’s smirk grew. “Mm. So focused you can barely stop looking at me?”

Her fingers gripped his shirt tighter. “Only because I can’t decide if you’re really this confident, or if you’re just good at pretending.”

Joe’s jaw tightened, his lips curving into a dangerous smile. “You’re about to find out.”

And just like that, they were back in sync, their bodies moving fluidly, playfully too close, the energy charged with tension that made the room feel hotter than it should’ve been.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Meanwhile — The guys? Not missing a thing.

Sam leaned against the bar, watching with a knowing smirk. “That’s a wrap. We all saw it. They’re done.”

Kayla, still dancing with Ja’Marr, shouted over the music, “You know Joe would be the type to act like he’s got it all together, but deep down? That man’s trying real hard not to fall apart right now.”

Tee laughed, tipping his drink. “No way. He’s got it under control. I bet he’s waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in.”

Sam tilted his head. “You think that’s how it’s gonna play out? Nah. She’ll make him sweat first.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Back on the dance floor, Y/N wasn’t letting up. She kept her distance, then leaned in just enough to tease him, spinning out of his grip and circling around him with a wink.

“Careful,” she called over her shoulder. “I might just let you catch me.”

Joe’s chest rumbled with a low laugh. “You’re not that fast.”

“Oh, I am,” she shot back, “but I like keeping you guessing.”

And the dance continued, teasing, pulling them closer and pulling them apart in a rhythm they’d both learned over the last hour. Y/N wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had the upper hand. She knew what she was doing. She liked it.

And Joe? He was feeling that same exact rush — not backing down, but damn near on edge with every moment they spent close enough to touch, but never quite touching.

Tee, watching the dance unfold with a shit-eating grin, leaned toward Sam.

“You think it’ll happen soon, or do we need to go rescue Joe from the longest slow burn in history?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Man, I don't know. At this rate, Joe’s gonna need a rescue from Y/N.”

As the song began to wind down, Y/N took one last spin away from Joe, her body turning with the music as her eyes stayed locked on his — daring him to keep up. She was giving him one final moment to make a move, but she knew exactly how to keep him dangling.

And that’s when she did it.

She took a step back, her smile cool and amused, hands on her hips as she gave him a playful, defiant look.

“Well? Keep up or go home?”

Joe stood there, a beat of silence between them. Then, with that same smirk from earlier, he grabbed his drink, taking a slow sip. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N chuckled. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Another song rolled in — this one smooth and low, the kind that made hips sway without trying. The rooftop stayed alive with conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses, but in the middle of it all, Y/N had the room in the palm of her hand. Or more accurately… she had Joe wrapped around her finger, even if no one dared to say it out loud.

And oh, was she enjoying herself.

She didn’t go back to him right away. Instead, she drifted toward Kayla, laughing as they picked up the rhythm and started dancing again. Not for attention — just because the music demanded it, and her body always listened.

But she knew exactly what she was doing.

Every now and then, she glanced over her shoulder, just long enough for Joe to know she was aware of his eyes on her. He wasn’t even trying to be slick about it anymore — standing near the bar, his drink untouched in his hand, his gaze pinned to her like she was the only thing that made sense in a room full of noise.

Tee, catching the whole thing, leaned toward him. “You alright, big guy?”

Joe blinked once, tore his eyes away for a breath, and exhaled like he’d been holding it in for ten minutes. “She’s dangerous.”

Ja’Marr laughed into his glass. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“She’s making me work for it,” Joe muttered, eyes drifting back to her.

Kayla clocked it all and leaned in to whisper, “He’s dying.”

Y/N smirked. “I know.”

“You gonna throw him a bone?”

Y/N’s smile turned feline. “Where’s the fun in that?”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

When Y/N finally made her way toward the bar, it was slow, deliberate — like she was in no rush because she wasn’t. Joe straightened up just a little, the tiniest twitch in his jaw giving away his anticipation. And she saw it. Loved it.

She stopped right in front of him, not close enough to touch — just enough to tempt.

“You look tense,” she said, grabbing a piece of fruit from a nearby cocktail and popping it between her lips.

Joe looked at her, slow and steady. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Doing what?”

“Dragging this out.”

She licked the last of the juice from her thumb, eyes locked on his. “I’m just vibing. You’re the one struggling.”

Joe didn’t respond right away. Just stepped a half-inch closer, his voice a low murmur meant only for her.

“Or maybe I’m enjoying the view too much to rush.”

Y/N’s breath hitched — just barely — but her face stayed cool. Her voice came out honey-slick. “You sure you can handle this view, Mr. QB1?”

Joe’s jaw tensed. “Try me.”

She leaned in — barely — enough for her perfume to hit him and for their lips to hover in the same zip code. She stayed there for a heartbeat. Two. Then—

She pulled back, flashing that wicked little grin.

“Maybe later,” she purred, turning away to rejoin Kayla.

Joe stood there, hand still on the bar, chest rising slow. He watched her walk away, lips parted, like he was debating whether or not he’d just been played or blessed.

Tee came up behind him, clapped him on the back. “You alright, man? You look like you just lost a playoff game.”

Joe ran a hand over his mouth, fighting a smile. “Nah. I think I just got drafted again.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The rooftop was buzzing — music still flowing, lights twinkling against the night sky, and the crew very much in their “we’re too hot to be this tipsy and this unserious” phase of the night. Everyone had found their rhythm: drinks in hand, shoes slightly looser, and jokes flying like confetti.

Y/N had reclaimed a low lounge seat with Kayla on one side and Ja’Marr practically hanging off the other armrest. Joe stayed leaning against the bar, still sipping slow — but his eyes?

Still on her.

Not even subtle anymore.

Kayla had noticed. Again.

She leaned in, whisper-singing in Y/N’s ear: “🎶He’s looking at you like you’re dessert and he skipped dinner.🎶”

Y/N snorted into her drink. “You need to stop.”

“You need to do something before he combusts in that tight-ass shirt.”

“I am doing something. I’m existing.”

Ja’Marr leaned toward them both, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. “Y’all whispering too loud. And for the record, I vote Y/N lets him suffer just a little more.”

Tee slid in with another round of drinks. “Suffer? He’s two seconds from asking the DJ to play ‘Pony.’”

“DON’T tempt him,” Kayla laughed. “You know he’s white-boy bold.”

Y/N just smirked, sitting back like a queen with her court. “He’ll live.”

Joe, still posted a few feet away, caught the tail end of that look she gave. The knowing, the tease, the come-here-but-don’t-touch. He shook his head with a smirk and finally pushed off the bar, walking over slowly.

“You’re enjoying this,” he said, stopping right in front of her.

Y/N looked up, her expression sugar and fire. “I am.”

“Evil.”

“Correct.”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna ruin me.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, eyes never leaving his. “If I wanted to ruin you, you’d already be ruined.”

The crew? LOSING it.

Sam from the next table: “OH MY GOD.”

Tee was wheezing. “Bro just got verbally folded.”

Ja’Marr put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “She’s not flirting anymore, she’s finishing you.”

Joe just laughed — that real, low-chested laugh that said he was absolutely not okay, and absolutely into it.

“Alright,” he said, backing up a step with his hands raised. “I can admit defeat. You win.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Already?”

“You haven’t even seen me try yet.”

“Oh, so this is you unbothered?”

“No,” Joe said, gaze hot. “This is me being patient.”

Kayla fanned herself with a napkin. “Jesus.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

As the DJ shifted the vibe into a little 2000s throwback R&B set — think Mario, Ciara, Usher era — the dancing picked back up, drinks refilled, and the group’s energy hit that sweet spot where everybody was too comfortable and too deep in to leave.

Ja’Marr somehow ended up teaching Kayla a two-step combo, Sam was holding court with a circle of background dancers, Tee was recording everything on his phone for future blackmail purposes, and Joe?

Joe was still watching Y/N dance.

Still waiting for his moment.

Still very much caught up in the long game.

And Y/N? She knew it. Felt it in the bass. Felt it in the way her body lit up every time he was near. Felt it in the thrill of knowing he was going home thinking about her — again.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The rooftop wasn’t quieting down — not yet — but it was changing. The crowd had thinned slightly, the air cooled, and the DJ knew exactly what they were doing when they transitioned into some Brent Faiyaz and SZA. The kind of music that makes people sway a little slower. Stand a little closer.

Y/N noticed it too.

She was perched now on a high-back lounge chair, legs crossed, a second drink in hand, her heels off and tucked under the seat. Joe sat just across from her, one leg bouncing absently, body leaning forward slightly like he was trying not to give in to whatever magnet kept pulling him in her direction.

Kayla had migrated to a couch nearby, curled up next to Ja’Marr who was fully in “post-victory chill mode” — hoodie on, chain out, and lowkey flirting like he had nothing to lose.

Tee and Sam were off near the glass railing, deep in a discussion about something that might’ve started with football and somehow morphed into the proper way to cook ribs.

The chaos was still present — but it was background noise now.

Because the tension?

Front and center.

“Okay, so what’s your deal?” Y/N asked casually, twirling the straw in her drink without looking at Joe.

Joe leaned back a little. “My deal?”

“Mhm.” She glanced at him now, brows raised. “You’re smooth, but not too smooth. A little cocky, but you’re… patient. Calculated. I can’t decide if you’re trying to win me over or if you already think you have.”

Joe’s tongue ran slowly over his bottom lip before he answered.

“I don’t assume anything,” he said, voice low. “Especially not with you.”

Y/N blinked. Just once.

He wasn’t playing anymore. He wasn’t teasing. And that shift — from flirt to focused — hit.

“Good,” she said, tone soft but laced with fire. “Keep that energy.”

Joe nodded slowly. “Oh, I plan to.”

Another silence stretched between them, thick and pulsing. The kind of silence where breathing too loud would make things snap.

Y/N tilted her head, eyes never leaving his. “You always this intense?”

“Only when I want something bad enough.”

Her legs uncrossed. Crossed the other way.

“You’re making this really hard for me to keep playing it cool.”

Joe smirked again, but this time it was darker. “Then stop playing.”

Breathe. Just breathe.

Kayla, from her couch throne, saw it all and immediately nudged Ja’Marr. “He’s gonna fold. I see it. He’s one deep breath away from telling her his social security number.”

Ja’Marr nodded, eyes still on them. “No, she's gonna fold. She’s trying too hard not to jump him right now.”

They both took long sips of their drinks, like it was a live episode of reality TV.

Back at the table, Y/N leaned forward a little, resting her elbow on the armrest. “You sure you’re ready for what comes with someone like me?”

Joe didn’t even flinch. “I think I’ve been ready. You’re the one still figuring it out.”

She smiled, slow and amused. “That right?”

“Mhm.” His voice dropped again, gravel-smooth. “I’ll wait. But I’m not backing off.”

That right there? That hit her right in the chest.

Because he wasn’t chasing her for sport. He was chasing her like a man who knew exactly what he wanted — and how to get it without rushing the game.

“I see you,” Y/N said, voice soft but deliberate.

Joe’s smile turned into something real. “I see you too.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The group eventually shifted again — some standing, some stretching, a few more songs left in the DJ’s set. Someone suggested snacks. Someone else was trying to get the Bluetooth speaker to work in the elevator for the trip down.

But Y/N and Joe?

Still in their chairs. Still locked in.

Still hovering on that razor-thin line between teasing and something hotter, something realer.

The rooftop crowd had thinned even more now. Some people peeled off, others stretched out on patio couches, and the music had softened into something lo-fi and low-key, like the party was naturally winding down. But Y/N and Joe?

Still stuck in their gravity.

Y/N shifted in her chair, pulling her knees up slightly to rest her arms on them. The glow of the heaters flickered off her skin like candlelight, and she sipped what was left of her drink with a quiet hum of satisfaction.

“You’re staring again,” she said without looking at him.

Joe’s voice came low. “And?”

She turned to him, smiling around the straw. “Just saying. I’d ask what you’re thinking, but I don’t know if I want the real answer.”

He chuckled, setting his glass down. “I’m thinking… you’re probably not someone I should be messing with right now.”

“Smart man,” Y/N said, brown eyes glittering. “Because you’re definitely not someone I should be messing with right now either.”

They shared a look — that kind of sharp, mutual understanding that said we both know exactly what this is.

“Too much going on?” Joe asked, voice lighter this time.

Y/N nodded. “Mmhmm. My schedule is brutal. I got two more shows this week, a taping next weekend, studio time, and possibly a last-minute audition. I’ve got zero time to fall into anything. Not even a maybe.”

Joe nodded slowly, watching her. “Yeah. Season’s getting heavier. Camp was no joke, and if I’m being honest… my coaches would probably have a stroke if they knew I was out here flirting instead of watching film.”

She laughed, tilting her head. “So why are you still out here?”

He leaned in slightly, elbows on his knees now, matching her posture. “Because it feels good. Because it’s fun. Because you’re smart, and hot, and I like the way you keep throwing me off my game.”

Y/N blinked slowly. “You’re good at this.”

Joe shrugged. “No. I’m just honest.”

Her smile faded into something more thoughtful. She wasn’t used to that — the mix of real talk and reckless charm. She was used to games. To men who wanted her, but not her chaos. Not her ambition. Not her heat and bite and unapologetic momentum.

But Joe?

He seemed like he was watching the storm on purpose.

“You ever do this?” she asked quietly. “Just vibe with someone for the sake of it?”

Joe tilted his head. “Not often.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment. “Same.”

Pause.

“So,” she said, voice turning playful again, “you gonna be weird about it, or are we both just gonna enjoy this slow burn until it fizzles out?”

Joe smiled, wide this time, like she’d said exactly what he was thinking.

“I like the slow burn,” he said. “Makes the fire hit harder.”

Y/N smirked. “Careful, quarterback. I’m the type that leaves marks.”

Joe’s laugh rumbled from his chest. “Good. I don’t bruise easy.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

They eventually joined the others again — slowly, naturally. The group had now gathered in another part of the lounge in front of a fire pit, feet tucked under blankets someone found, bowls of chips, and random leftover desserts from room service being passed around.

Tee was throwing out wild questions: “Okay, okay — one has to go forever: music, football, or sex?”

Groans.

“Bro.”

“Why would you even ask that?”

Y/N raised a brow. “I’m keeping music. I need music. So y’all can fight it out for the rest.”

Joe looked over, grinning. “That’s bold.”

“You surprised?”

“Nope. Just wondering which one I’d have to compete with.”

Y/N tossed a piece of ice at his chest. “Don’t start.”

Ja’Marr: “Start?? Y’all been flirting like a CW drama for the last three hours.”

Kayla, not missing a beat: “And we’ve been tuning in like it’s season three, episode nine.”

Everyone cracked up, but the eyes said it all — they saw what was brewing. They weren’t just witnessing the tension… they were living in it.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The night wore on, the fire burning bright, the group slowly yawning and untangling. But that tension between Joe and Y/N? Still there. Still rising. Still begging for a moment away from the noise.

And that moment?

Was coming.

Soon.

The lounge was low-lit and empty, except for them.

The music outside faded to a distant thump, the kind that disappeared when your pulse started thudding louder. Y/N leaned against the window, and Joe… he was standing just behind her, close enough that the heat from his chest brushed her back.

She turned slightly, still leaning, still calm — but her eyes told a different story. “You always this patient?” she asked, her voice smooth, but her gaze daring him to lie. Joe stepped closer, now only inches away, his voice low and thick. “No. Just when the tension feels this good.”

Her breath caught — and that was it. That was the break.

Y/N turned all the way around and stepped into him, chest brushing his, lips inches apart. Her fingers slipped under the hem of his hoodie, slow, not rushing — like she was deciding if he’d earned it yet.

He looked down at her, not moving, like he knew any sudden shift would set off the fire alarm.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” she said softly, bluntly. “I don’t have time. I’m too focused. Too booked. Too selfish with my energy right now.”

Joe’s hand came to rest lightly on her hip, thumb grazing bare skin where her shirt had risen slightly. His voice was calm, but it had a weight to it now. A certainty. “I don’t want anything you’re not ready to give me.”

She stared up at him, lips parted, breath uneven. “And if all I want is this?” she asked. Joe leaned in, brushing his nose against hers — not kissing her. Not yet. “Then you’ve got it. All of it.”

That was it.

She grabbed his hoodie and pulled him in hard — no hesitation, no slow-burn now — just heat. His mouth found hers in a kiss that had what felt like weeks of build-up behind it. It was all lips, tongue, and low groans as his hands slid around her waist and pulled her closer. Her back hit the glass behind them and she didn’t care — the cold contrast made her gasp against his mouth.

Joe’s hands were everywhere — respectful but greedy, firm but slow. He kissed like he’d studied her, like he already knew how she moved, how she liked to be touched. And Y/N?

She kissed him like she needed to — like she was making up for every second she’d spent pretending she didn’t. One of his legs slid between hers, and he growled low in his throat — that real, chest-deep sound that made her smirk mid-kiss. She tugged at his hoodie, dragging it up just enough to feel warm skin beneath.

“You’re dangerous,” she whispered against his lips.

Joe grinned, breathless. “You’ve got no idea.”

His hand slipped under her shirt, resting on the small of her back, grounding her and teasing all at once.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to speak. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she warned.

Joe nodded, eyes dark. “Doesn’t have to.”

She searched his face — saw honesty, desire, control barely hanging on.

Then she kissed him again.

Deeper.

Slower.

Letting herself feel it — just this once. Just this moment. Just… him.

And when they finally paused, breathing heavy, pressed together in that dim lounge like sin wrapped in moonlight, Y/N’s fingers curled in the front of his shirt. She didn’t let go.

Neither did he.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Back on the rooftop, karaoke had fully devolved into people yelling lyrics, eating dessert straight from the tray, and passing someone’s half-warm cocktail around like it was holy water.

Tee was trying to film Kayla but she kept ducking behind Ja’Marr, who was too deep into a plate of nachos to care.

That’s when Sam looked around, eyebrows furrowing.

“Wait… where’s Joe?”

Kayla paused mid-bite. “Oh, you mean Joseph ‘Let Me Flirt in 4K’ Burrow?”

Ja’Marr looked up. “Ain’t seen him since Y/N went ghost.”

Tee glanced toward the door. “...Yo.”

Everyone turned.

Kayla slowly lowered her drink. “Hold on.”

She scanned the group again, eyes narrowing like a bloodhound on a scent.

“Y/N’s gone too.”

A beat.

Then Kayla sat straight up, a hand flying over her heart like she’d just uncovered scandalous royal gossip. “Oh my God. They’re definitely fucking.”

Tee nearly dropped his phone. “Damn, girl, don’t hold back.”

“No, no, no,” she said, standing up now, pacing like a detective. “Let’s review the evidence. The eye contact? The flirting? The slow-burn heatwave that’s been hanging over them since SOUND CHECK? And now they vanish together into the night? Come on.”

Sam raised a hand like a student. “Maybe they’re just talking.”

Kayla turned so fast it was almost dangerous. “Baby, ain’t nobody just talking when there’s that much lip-biting and smoldering eye contact. That man has been looking at her like she’s the cheat day he’s been saving all season.”

Ja’Marr nodded solemnly. “She did say she was leaving marks.”

Tee: “She meant that. Bet his hoodie’s all stretched out.”

Kayla was cackling now, fanning herself. “She’s probably got that man speaking in tongues. He gonna come back like ‘blessings to all, I’ve seen the light.’”

Ja’Marr mimicked Joe’s voice, deadpan. “Hey guys. Just learned what love is. Also, my legs don’t work.”

They all howled.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Meanwhile, in the dim lounge across the hall, Y/N and Joe were still tucked into each other, lips a little swollen, hearts beating in sync, the afterglow of that snapped tension still lingering in the air like smoke.

“Think they’ve noticed we’re missing yet?” Y/N asked, her voice low and warm as she sat nestled into Joe’s chest, both of them still upright, still (barely) composed.

Joe smirked, thumb grazing the curve of her hip. “I’d be shocked if Kayla wasn’t forming conspiracy theories as we speak.”

Y/N snorted. “She’s probably narrating it like it’s a Netflix docuseries.”

“Oh, 100 percent. ‘And that night, under the soft glow of a rooftop heater, Y/N risked it all for cinnamon-roll QB1 energy.’”

She laughed, low and full.

Then her hand slid up his chest again, slow, fingers drawing lazy patterns across his skin.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she reminded him one more time — but the words were breathier now.

Joe nodded, but his hand never left her body. “Nope. Just fun. Just us.”

She tilted her head, playful again. “For now.”

He grinned. “For now.”

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Tee was halfway through a story about an Uber driver who tried to freestyle mid-ride when the rooftop door creaked open.

Click.

Soft footsteps.

Then—

Y/N and Joe walked back in.

Chill. Calm. Cool as a cucumber cocktail.

Y/N’s lips were glossed again (very suspicious). Her top was slightly readjusted (even more suspicious). Joe’s curls looked a little more tousled than before (a federal offense, honestly). And they walked in with too much distance between them — the kind of space that only people who just broke the rules try to create.

Silence.

Just for a second.

Then Kayla stood up, arms spread wide like a talk show host finishing a monologue.

“Ladies and gentlemen… THE COUPLE HAS RETURNED.”

Y/N groaned. “You are so dramatic.”

Joe just chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck like he knew exactly what this meant. And what was coming.

Tee grinned. “Nah, don’t try to play innocent. Y’all disappeared for a minute.”

Sam raised his drink. “Was it just a scenic walk? Or, you know…” He made an exaggerated gesture with his eyebrows.

Ja’Marr added, deadpan, “Did y’all pray together? That’s what it looked like. Real… spiritual energy coming off you two.”

Kayla clutched her heart. “The tension in this room is no longer tension. It is residue. It is proof.”

Y/N dropped onto the couch next to her, laughing now but trying to keep a straight face. “You need help.”

Kayla leaned in close, whispering like it was top-secret intel. “He kiss you good or kiss you good?”

Y/N gave her a look that said: We’re not doing this here.

Which Kayla ignored, obviously.

Joe, meanwhile, grabbed a water bottle, cracked it open, and sipped like he wasn’t being studied like a reality TV contestant coming back from the fantasy suite.

Tee side-eyed him. “So, uh… how’s the lounge?”

Joe grinned without answering.

“Oh, so we just not talking now?” Sam asked, grinning. “Selective silence?”

Ja’Marr leaned toward Joe, pretending to be serious. “Listen, blink twice if she rocked your world.”

Joe sipped again.

Did not blink.

Kayla: “Oh he gone. GONE gone.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, muttering, “I hate all of you.”

But she was smiling.

So was Joe.

And no one missed it.

The jokes kept flying, drinks were poured, and the playlist slipped into something softer again. And as the night crept closer to morning, the heat didn’t cool — it just folded itself into comfort. Into shared looks. Into legs brushing and quiet laughs.

Because now?

The secret was out.

And no one was mad about it.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The party had finally thinned out. Ja’Marr was half-asleep in one of the lounge chairs, mumbling something about pancakes. Kayla was wrapped in a throw blanket, scrolling on her phone and side-eyeing everyone who moved.

Y/N stepped out onto the balcony just off the lounge, arms crossed over her chest as the cool early morning air kissed her skin. It smelled like city, like wind and concrete and leftover cinnamon from somebody’s half-eaten dessert.

She didn’t look when she heard the door creak behind her.

Didn’t have to.

Joe leaned against the railing beside her, silent for a second, watching the streets below.

“You good?” he asked, voice soft.

Y/N nodded. “Mmhmm. Just needed some air before I head out.”

“Same.”

They stood in silence, the kind that had grown between them over the night — not awkward, just comfortable. Like the quiet had its own rhythm.

Y/N glanced over at him. “So, what… you flying back tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Team stuff. We’re back in practice mode.”

“Bet. I’m in the studio for the next three days. Back-to-back sessions.”

Joe smiled a little. “You stay working.”

“You too. So, we’re both married to the grind.” She nudged his arm. “Messy little combo, huh?”

He turned toward her slightly, that crooked grin tugging at his mouth again. “Messy… but kinda hot.”

Y/N smirked. “You like chaos, huh?”

Joe leaned a little closer. “I like you.”

Her throat tightened for half a second. But she shook it off, blinking slowly, smile playful again.

“Well, you’re cute, Burrow, but don’t catch feelings. I’m a busy woman.”

He raised a brow. “You think I can’t multitask?”

“You think I won’t make you beg for my time?”

Joe laughed, then stepped even closer, their arms brushing now. “You giving me your number or just your best lines?”

Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket, smirking. “Both. I’m generous like that.”

She typed it in, saved under “Y/N 🔥🎤”, then handed it over.

Joe added his right after, giving her back her phone with a wink. “Put me under something nice.”

Y/N typed out: “Joseph. a.k.a QB1. a.k.a Can’t Keep His Hands to Himself.”

She flashed it at him. He read it, grinned, and shook his head. “You’re gonna be a problem.”

Joe leaned back against the railing, arms crossed now, head tilted like he was watching her through a filter of curiosity and something deeper.

“So… what are we calling this?” he asked.

Y/N raised a brow. “You need a label for everything?”

“I like clarity,” he replied, smirking. “Keeps expectations clean.”

She stepped in front of him, close enough to be tempting again, but still just out of reach. “Okay, Mr. Clarity. Here’s what I think.”

Joe’s eyes didn’t leave hers.

“No strings,” Y/N said smoothly. “No pressure. You do your thing, I do mine. But when we’re in the same city…” She trailed her fingers lightly down the front of his hoodie. “We link. We have fun. We keep it real.”

Joe caught her hand in his, slow and deliberate.

“So… friends with benefits?”

“Benefits,” she confirmed. “And mutual respect. Text if you’re in town. I’ll do the same. But we don’t do jealousy, and we definitely don’t do clingy.”

Joe leaned down, close enough his breath hit her lips. “I don’t chase unless I’m on the field.”

Y/N smirked. “And I don’t beg unless it’s on stage.”

That made him groan under his breath, head dropping for a second before he grinned again.

“Alright,” he said finally, letting her hand go, “deal.”

Y/N turned, walking back toward the lounge door, hips swaying just enough to let him know she was aware of every second of silence behind her.

Just before she reached the door, she called back over her shoulder:

“Let’s see if you can handle it, quarterback.”

Joe looked at her for a long moment. “I can live with that.”

Y/N grinned. “Good. You know where to find me.”

He stepped closer again, lips brushing her cheek. Not her mouth. Not this time.

“Next time I do,” he murmured, “I’m not stopping at one kiss.”

She shivered, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting too much. Just raised a brow.

“We’ll see if you earn it.”

Joe didn’t say anything.

But the smile on his face?

He was ready.

And with that, they walked back inside — apart, but more connected than they’d been all night. No promises. No titles.

Just one hell of an understanding.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The next morning hit different.

Y/N rolled into the brunch spot just five minutes late — which, for her, was basically on time. Curls slicked into a clean ponytail, hoops back in rotation, oversized shades on despite it being cloudy. She was wearing a simple but body-hugging black set and a denim jacket like she hadn’t just shifted the group dynamics forever.

Kayla was already at the table with Ja’Marr, Tee, Sam, and — yes — Joe, who looked a little too well-rested in a grey hoodie and joggers, curls freshly brushed and smugness barely concealed.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Kayla said, sipping her mimosa like it was tea.

“I had to make sure I didn’t look like what y’all put me through last night,” Y/N replied, sliding into the seat beside her.

Ja’Marr smirked. “Girl, he put you through something.”

Tee leaned in. “Sooo… we just gonna skip over the vanishing act or…?”

Y/N grabbed the menu. “It was cold. I went inside.”

Sam raised a brow. “Inside him?”

“Sam!” Y/N gasped, half-choking on laughter. “You wild.”

Joe just grinned into his coffee like a man who was winning without having to say a word.

Kayla nudged Y/N. “Okay but like… did it change your life or just ruin all other quarterbacks for you?”

Joe coughed, “Still here,” but didn’t even bother to defend himself. His hand rested casually on the table, close enough to brush against Y/N’s knee under it. No one missed it.

“Y’all are insufferable,” Y/N muttered, trying — and failing — to keep her smirk under control.

The waiter came to take orders, and the group somehow managed to behave just long enough to choose food. As soon as he walked away, Ja’Marr pointed between Y/N and Joe with his fork.

“You two got that post-sneaky link glow. Real we know what we did but we’re chillin' energy.”

Joe just sipped his coffee again. “I’m just here for the pancakes.”

Kayla snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, lips twitching. “Y’all really need hobbies.”

Ja’Marr: “Oh we’ve got one. It’s called watching this mess unfold in real-time.”

Joe finally turned to Y/N, the lowkey smile still tugging at his mouth. “You regrettin’ last night yet?”

Y/N looked over the rim of her sunglasses and replied, smooth as butter, “Not even a little.”

The table howled.

Even the waiter raised a brow when he returned with the mimosas.

The food eventually came, but the teasing did not stop. Between bites of chicken and waffles and bottomless mimosas, the crew kept the commentary rolling, each one trying to out-roast the other.

And Y/N and Joe?

They took it.

Laughed with them.

Shared a few more looks.

Understood each other without having to say it out loud.

Whatever this thing was… it was just getting started.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

The goodbye was supposed to be chill.

Quick hugs. Shared jokes. A “see you when I see you” kind of exit.

Y/N and Kayla stood by the SUV outside the hotel as the guys loaded up for their airport run. The girls’ bus was parked nearby, engine rumbling, ready to hit the road for the next stop on tour.

Tee gave Kayla a quick hug and promised to follow her back on Instagram. Sam dapped everyone up like he wasn’t still crying from brunch laughter. Ja’Marr told Y/N she owed him a private performance and a bottle of wine next time they were all in the same city.

Then there was Joe.

He stood by the car door, hands in his hoodie pocket, the quiet smirk he always wore now looking… softer. A little more thoughtful.

Y/N stepped up to him, her duffel hanging off one shoulder. “Guess this is the part where we go back to real life.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “Game prep and studio marathons.”

They looked at each other for a beat too long.

And then she stepped forward, curled her fingers in the front of his hoodie, and kissed him.

Right there.

No hesitation. No spectacle. Just full lips pressed to his, slow and sweet with a little heat behind it — enough to leave a memory, a pulse, something to think about on the flight home.

She pulled back just a little, just enough to whisper, “Next time, QB1.”

Joe blinked once, lips still parted. “Next time.”

Y/N turned without another word, jogged to catch up to Kayla — who was grinning like she’d just watched the season finale of her favorite drama.

As the girls boarded the bus, Joe was still watching.

Hand on the car door.

Smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Later That Day – On the Tour Bus

The bus rumbled down the highway, soft music playing as the city skyline shrank in the distance. Y/N was curled up in a blanket on the long couch, makeup wiped off, bonnet on, hoodie two sizes too big. Her phone buzzed every now and then, but she ignored it — until Kayla plopped down beside her with a bowl of popcorn and a look.

“So,” Kayla said, tossing a piece into her mouth, “how many times did he fold you like a beach chair?”

Y/N groaned. “You are not subtle.”

“I’m your best friend, subtlety is banned on this bus.”

Y/N laughed, flopping her head back. “Alright, fine. We kissed. More than once.”

Kayla blinked. “That’s it? You disappeared for twenty-five minutes and came back looking like you’d just dropped an R&B single.”

Y/N threw a pillow at her.

“Okay, okay!” Kayla caught it, grinning. “So no full-court press yet, but the energy was giving… Fourth Quarter. Two-Minute Warning. Ball in your hands.”

Y/N sighed. “Yeah, it was… whew. Like, electric. And yeah, we agreed on a no-strings thing. Just fun when we’re in the same city.”

Kayla raised a brow. “So, you admit he rocked your world a little bit.”

“I didn’t say all that!”

“You didn’t have to.”

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Look, I’m not tryna fall for a quarterback. But I’m also not trying to block a blessing if it shows up 6’4”, blue eyes, and makes my knees weak.”

Kayla tossed another piece of popcorn. “So we agree: emotionally unavailable, mutually beneficial, extremely hot. I support this arrangement.”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you don’t start narrating again.”

Kayla held up her hands. “Fine. But I’m telling you now, when y’all end up on People’s Sexiest Situationships Alive list, I’m collecting royalties.”

And as the bus rolled on, Y/N leaned her head against the window and smiled at her phone. No texts yet.

But something told her she wouldn’t have to wait long.

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9, @irishmanwhore

[ririright]

“First-Time Daddy” AU

Husband! Hayden x Wife Reader (Headcannons)

❤︎ Talking to His Son Before He’s Even Born

He has full-on conversations with your belly.

“Alright, little man, here’s the plan. You come out happy and healthy, and I’ll teach you how to build the coolest LEGO Star Wars ships.”

Sometimes he reads his favorite book, Knulp, out loud to your belly, because “Might as well get him cultured early.”

❤︎ You catch him whispering sweet things when he thinks you’re asleep.

“Your mom’s incredible. You’re gonna love her.”

❤︎ The Nighttime Ritual

Before bed, Hayden insists on giving you a gentle foot massage because

“You’re on your feet all day, sweetheart.”

He talks to the baby in soothing whispers, his cheek pressed against your belly.

“Hey, buddy. Daddy’s here. Take it easy on your mom tonight, okay?”

Sometimes he sings softly, old folk songs or even the Star Wars lullaby he made up.

❤︎ Baby Name Debates (That Are Just Cute Bickering)

Hayden has a list of classic, old-fashioned names he loves, but you tease him about them.

“We are not naming him Gandalf, Hayden.

You suggest trendy names just to see his reaction, and he gives you a horrified look.

“Honey, please. Not Brisket. That’s a food, not a name.”

You both finally agree on a shortlist but keep it a secret because “It’ll be our little surprise.”

❤︎ Weekly Belly Photos

Hayden insists on taking a picture of you every Sunday, wearing a cozy sweater or one of his oversized flannels.

He makes sure the background is always something pretty—the garden, the pond, or even the cozy kitchen.

Sometimes, he sets the timer and jumps in the photo with you, arms wrapped around you, his hand gently cradling your bump.

❤︎ Showering You with Compliments

Every day, without fail: “You’re so beautiful.”

If you complain about feeling big or uncomfortable, he immediately pulls you into his arms.

“You’re glowing, sweetheart. You’ve never been more gorgeous.”

He takes candid photos of you—your profile while you’re reading, you cradling your belly, you laughing. You’ll catch him staring at them, smiling like an absolute lovesick fool.

❤︎ Always Touching You

If you’re cooking, he stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his hands gently cradling your bump.

When you’re watching TV, you’re basically his pillow, snuggled up against his chest with his hand protectively over your belly.

Even in public, his hand is always somewhere on you—holding your hand, resting on your lower back, or gently guiding you.

❤︎ Decorating the Nursery Together

Hayden is incredibly hands-on, from painting the walls to assembling the crib.

He’s got a Star Wars mobile that he insists on hanging above the crib.

“It’s our new family tradition”

You catch him trying to figure out how to add a tiny, safe lightsaber nightlight.

❤︎ Baby Clothes Shopping is an Adventure

Hayden’s the one who gets way too excited in the baby clothes section.

“Look at this! It’s a little onesie with sheep on it! He’ll match the farm.”

He has a weakness for tiny socks.

“Oh, come on. They’re so small. I have to get them.”

If he spots anything Star Wars-themed, it’s immediately in the cart.

“It’s tradition, sweetheart.”

❤︎ The Ultrasound Photos Obsession

Hayden has a little envelope full of every single ultrasound photo. He takes them out sometimes and just stares at them, grinning like a lovesick puppy.

He even has a framed copy on his bedside table.

Once, you found him showing the photos to the animals while feeding them.

“That’s your future little buddy, you guys.”

❤︎ The Cravings Supplier (Advanced Mode)

Hayden has a snack drawer in the kitchen just for you, filled with all your current cravings—chocolate, sour candies, pickles, you name it.

If you so much as mention a craving, he’s on his way to get it.

“You want fresh strawberries? I’ll run to the farmer’s market.”

He once drove an hour to get your favorite donuts because you mentioned them offhand.

❤︎ The Baby Talk Voice

Hayden has a special soft, silly voice he uses when talking to your belly.

“Hey there, little man. It’s your daddy. Are you being nice to your mama in there?”

He sometimes switches into character, doing little Darth Vader impressions.

“Luke—I mean, Baby, I am your father.”

You catch him talking to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep.

“You’re already so loved, buddy.”

❤︎ Super Scent Sensitive

Hayden becomes hyper-aware of your sense of smell. If he’s cooking and you even wrinkle your nose, he’s immediately changing the menu.

He makes sure the house smells nice—lighting soft vanilla candles, making fresh coffee, and even spritzing lavender pillow mist in your room.

Once, you mentioned that his cologne was too strong, so he switched to a lighter, fresh scent just for you.

❤︎ Baby Kicks Are His Favorite Thing

Every time the baby kicks, Hayden’s face lights up.

“There he goes again! He’s gonna be a hockey star!”

If you’re having a quiet kick day, he tries to coax the baby with soft belly rubs and little whispers.

When the baby’s really active, he gets so excited, pressing his ear to your belly.

“Hey, buddy! Daddy’s here!”

❤︎ Dad Jokes Already Locked and Loaded

He’s been practicing his dad jokes, much to your amusement.

“Why did the baby strawberry cry? Because his parents were in a jam!”

Sometimes he’ll test them on you, watching for your eye roll. “Come on, that one was gold!”

You can already tell he’s going to be that dad who thinks he’s the funniest guy in the room.

❤︎ The Ultrasound Tradition

Every time you come back from an ultrasound, Hayden proudly tapes the new picture onto the fridge.

You catch him staring at the fridge sometimes, smiling. “Look at him. He’s got your nose.”

He keeps a digital copy of every ultrasound on his phone too, just in case.

❤︎ Grocery Store Adventures

He’s become a master of reading labels, making sure everything you eat is healthy and baby-safe.

If he sees anything that says “baby” on it, he’ll pick it up, even if it’s not for your age range yet.

“Hey, these little shoes are adorable. For… you know, later.”

He sneaks chocolate into the cart for you, even though you pretend to be watching your sugar.

❤︎ Reading All the Baby Books

You catch him sitting in bed with a baby care book in one hand and a highlighter in the other.

Sometimes he reads out loud to you, chuckling at the outdated advice.

“This one says to play Mozart to make the baby smarter. Do you think Star Wars soundtracks count?”

He worries about everything.

“Do you think the baby will like me? What if I forget how to hold him?” You have to constantly reassure him.

❤︎ Reading About Your Pregnancy Symptoms

If you even wince or sigh, he’s on his phone, looking up what it could mean.

“Okay, so mild back pain is normal, but—do you want me to get you a heating pad? Or do you want to switch pillows? I’ll run a bath.”

He has a little pregnancy app he checks every day, always excited to tell you how big the baby is now.

“He’s the size of a cantaloupe today!”

If you get emotional for no reason, he just wraps you in a big hug, holding you until you calm down.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Cry it out.”

❤︎ Heart-Melting Compliments

“Sweetheart, I swear you’re even more beautiful now. It’s like… you’re glowing.”

He’s always telling you how proud he is of you.

“I don’t know how you do it. You’re the strongest person I know.”

If you get emotional or insecure, he kisses you gently and says,

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You and this little guy.”

❤︎ Learning So Much About Babies

He’s constantly surprising you with random baby facts.

“Did you know babies can recognize their parents’ voices from the womb?”

His Amazon history is full of baby gadgets, from baby carriers to soft blankets.

You catch him watching “How to Swaddle” videos on YouTube late at night.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

We're in the hospital waiting room as your sister and labors with her first child. You shift uncomfortably in your chair, partly from the overdue child sitting stubbornly upon your hips and partly from the discomfort you get just from being in a hospital. You were staunchly against having our own baby in such a place, but being here for your sister in spirit was on the shortlist of exceptions.

"I need to go to the bathroom...I'll-I'll be back," You struggle to push out of the chair and rushed away to the bathroom.

I nod affirmatively and lean back in my own chair.

One minute turns into five then into 10...then fifteen. Even as heavy and pregnant as you are, you never took this long.

I look down at the chair and catch a dark, now damp splotch staining the ugly fabric of the chair.

Shit.

“Honey…? Are you in here?” Your nervous voice echos the tiled room as you cautiously peak your head into the ladies bathroom.

It was late, the hospital quiet and empty, the only sound was a deep gravelled moan coming from a single occupied stall. Me.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? Unlock the door for me.” You said with a false calmness, as if trying to reassure an injured animal.

“No….. no- no- no— hooooo-hooooo…” sitting on the toilet, dress bunched up beneath my breasts and knickers round my ankles, I held tight to my spasming pregnant belly and tried to pant through the overwhelming pressure in my pelvis. “Oh god!” I cried out when the wave peaked.

“Kelsey! Open the door, honey.” Your fists bumped against the stall and rattled the hinges.

Somehow, with tears in my eyes, I pulled myself to standing and leaned forward. Unlocking the door I promptly collapsed back down on the toilet, returning to the only position that didn’t make me want to scream. You were by my side in an instant, cupping my face and looking deep into my eyes.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay.” You whispered, kissing my forehead.

“No— I don’t want to have my b-baby here…” my breath hitched as I tried to hold back the tears, emotions crashing through me at the sight of you.

“Oh I know you wanted a home birth darling, but we’re in a hospital, everything will be fine. And our baby will have the same birthday as their cousin, how cool is that?” You smiled and rubbed my taut belly that was spread over my widened thighs. “I’ll just get a nurse or something, hang on sweetie.”

I grasped your hand before you could leave, gripping your wrist tight, fingernails pressing into your skin. “Don’t— don’t leave me—” I begged.

“But I need to go get someone, honey.”

“You don’t understand… hooooo…. I need— oh god I need to push!” Still holding fast to your hand, my chin lowered to my chest as my body bore down with the next contraction.

“Fuck. Oh Kelsey, no. Don’t push.” You spluttered but I was lost to the urgency of birth.

Gasping for air, I held my breath once more and pushed hard against the bowling ball sitting at the apex of my thighs. The baby’s head was bulging, splitting me open, and I had no control. I had to push…. I just had to.

“Oh— god. It’s coming outttttt!!!” I grunted, deep and primal, tilting my hips and lifting my feet off the floor. “H-help… m-me…”

• ko-fi ☕️ •

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Peace - Act III : Chapter eight

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Warnings: None

Mr. Weaver’s office was still a mess.

Same cracked lava lamp. Same eternal stack of papers leaning like a dying tree. A new addition: a coffee mug that read “I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right.”

You dropped into the chair across from his desk, backpack slumped at your feet. “This place is a fire hazard. Pretty sure OSHA would pass out walking in here.”

Mr. Weaver didn’t look up. “Made it to senior year, and WOW. Still not expelled. I’m proud of you.”

“Give me a week.”

He cracked a grin, then rifled through a manila folder until he found what he was looking for. “I have something for you.”

“If it’s a pamphlet on anger management, I already went. Twice.”

“No,” he said, sliding a sheet of paper across the desk. “It’s a letter. From Emerson College.”

You blinked, mind blanking on the random name. “What’s Emerson?”

“Only one of the best journalism programs in the country. But sure, shrug it off.”

You picked up the paper, eyes scanning quickly, her name printed in serif type near the top. It wasn’t junk mail. It was real. You felt a wave of suspicion flood you. What the fuck is this? Why do they know you? Also what the fuck is this?

“What is this?” You asked, cautiously.

Mr. Weaver leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head like a man extremely pleased with himself. “Remember that piece you wrote for the school paper? About the Yellowjackets’ win and how it brought the school together?”

You narrowed your eyes, already not liking where he was going with this. “What did you do?”

“I submitted it.”

You stared, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “To who?”

“To a national student journalism contest. Sponsored by Emerson. They wanted samples tied to community impact and editorial voice.” He smiled. “And your piece had both.”

“You sent my stuff without asking?”

He shrugged. “If I’d asked, you’d have said no.”

You opened your mouth, and then after a beat closed it. “I-still-what?”

“They loved it,” he said, his tone softening. “Like, not ‘cute high school paper’ loved it. They flagged your writing and your photo layout. Said it had a real voice. Something raw. You got shortlisted for a merit scholarship. Full ride if you make it to the finalist round.”

You blinked. And after a beat of silence, and a staring contest. Your face saying ‘be fucking serious.’ and his saying ‘I am fucking serious.’. You scoffed. “You’re lying.”

“I’m many things. A liar? Not when it comes to good news.”

You stared at the paper again, something warm and flickering pressing behind her ribs. “I never even thought about college. Not seriously. Also, NEVER this kind.”

“Well,” Mr. Weaver said, “start.”

You shook your head. Your mind racing. You don’t have the funds, or the support to do this. How the hell do you start? “I don’t know what I’m doing. I barely got here to this school in one piece. No one in my family’s gone to college. I-respectfully this feels fucking fake.”

Mr. Weaver leaned forward now, elbows on the desk. His sarcasm slipped for once, voice level and sure. “Y/N, you’ve lived through more before seventeen than most people do in fifty. You survived things that would’ve knocked other kids flat. You didn’t just float-you created. You documented the world around you when it was trying to swallow you whole.”

You looked down, throat tightening.

“That’s what great journalists do,” he continued. “You’ve got the eye. The gut. The grit. You think you don’t belong in those spaces, but maybe those spaces have been waiting for someone exactly like you.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “What if I can’t keep it up?”

“Then you fail forward. You fall, get up, and write about it. But I’d bet on you, Y/N. Every time.”

You swallowed hard. Your heart clenching at the softness in his voice. He sounded so sure. So convinced. “You really think I could…do this?”

“I don’t just think it,” he said, offering a small smile, “I already submitted the application.”

You gaped, eyes wide in shock. “WHAT?”

“I said I’d treat you like a grown-up, didn’t I? Well, here’s adulthood, kid: sometimes people believe in you before you believe in yourself. And that’s not cheating. That’s just the luck of finally getting the right people in your corner.”

For the first time, you didn’t deflect. You didn’t joke. You just nodded, eyes glassy but grateful.

“Thanks, Weaver.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, already shuffling through a new stack. “Wait until you see how much essay editing I’m about to make you do. You’ve got potential, Y/L/N. But potential is just unused muscle. Time to work.”

You chuckled, and it made way for a smile. A smile goofier than you would've wanted to smile. You stood, letter still in your hand. As you walked out, you felt something flicker in your chest. Hope. And maybe, for the first time in a long time, a glimpse of a future that belonged to no one else but you.

[luciaintheskyainthi]

At the rate the slow is burning I can only imagine a future where everyone in the family is dining, and Jason and Peter are finally going to confess to their fake dating shenanigans...

Jason, holding Peter's hand over the table: we're here to make an announcement-

Duke, devastated: NO!! YOU CAN'T GET MARRIED THIS SOON, I'M GOING TO LOSE THE BET!!

Stephanie from across the table: PASS THE BILLS, DUKE, YOU LOST!

Dick, beaming: so I'm gonna be the best man, right? 😃

Bruce, hand on his chest: he's growing up so fast.

Tim, throwing a handkerchief to Dick's face: I'M going to be the best man, right? :)

At this point Peter loses it and starts laughing, Jason wide eyed at his side, trying to explain the situation.

Jason, flustered: no!? We just started dating!!

And chaos ensues, "WHY DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST STARTED DATING!?" and similar exclamations are heard all around the table. Damian venmos Barbara 5$ without explanation , and Cass is just happy since she knows she would be the best flower girl (she's competing with Damian and he doesn't stand a chance).

The betrayal. The drama. The SCANDAL

(Damian having made a bet with Babs who already KNEW?! Hilarious).

I'm not going to lie, it's going to be unendingly funny when things are finally out in the open. Dick's going to be HEART BROKEN that man's made a pinterest board and everything. He's got a shortlist of ring designs 'cause his idiot baby brother's got zero game. He's drafted and redrafted the guest list. He's made an itemised list of the pros and cons of two weddings - a public one and a private one. Hes--

You get the point. The devestation shall be devestating 🤭

[darkbluetennessee]

if you had to pick out:

the song that best represented the album to you

the lyric that best represented the album to you

for TTPD, what would it be?

(👋 from @wavesoutbeingtossed)

ooh that is such a good question!!

the song that best represents the album to me is fortnight. imo it's a perfect album opener for tortured poets. it reminds me of state of grace for red in a lot of ways; while state of grace is a warning for whats to come, fortnight is the story of the album distilled into one song and metaphor. she's telling you where her head was at the start of this story, how she could've fallen for a get-love-quick scheme. it sets the tone and the mood for the album in a way that always makes me so excited for the rest of the record each time i listen.

now, the lyric that best represents the album to me is a tough one. I made a shortlist in trying to decide, so here are those...

i've seen this episode and still love the show: i really like this one because i think, both within and outside the context of its song, it works. it harkens back to "and the gods honest truth is that the pain was heaven." she's admitting that, as she watches this person in front of her repeat their self destructive patterns, she's also repeating hers by staying. and with how much of taylor's fame is dissected on this album, it feels very pertinent. however much this life has broken her down, it's never been enough to walk away. she chose this, and she continues to choose it.

this cage was once just fine: I like this one because, in the context of the song, the cage is the relationship. but in the context of the album, the cage is also fame (the asylum). the pressure of growing up as america's sweetheart. growing up under a microscope, constantly scrutinized for her choices.

what if I roll the stone away? they're gonna crucify me anyway: I can't not include this one here. something ttpd made me think about a lot was how hard it would have been to be in taylor's shoes, having to end a 6 year relationship after all the slut shaming she experienced ("I can't make em stay / at least that's what people say"), after writing a whole album about being in love with this person, making them her temple, her mural, her sky. declaring her love in swooping sloping cursive lettres, only to watch it end and not know what went wrong. I genuinely do think that fear of what the world would say if her long term relationship ended weighed heavily on her, and I think the repercussions of carrying that expectation show up all over this album.

the winner though for the lyric that best represents the album has to be...

🏆 all at once the ink bleeds: two muses become one. two heartbreaks become one. the truth of who did what is muddled as the pain is excavated for the art. I tweeted this shortly after ttpd came out and a year later this daisy quote feels even more aligned with this album the more i've come to understand it. "I hurt. so I wrote about it" also just feels like the thesis of taylor as a songwriter. it's not about morality, it's not about who was right and who was wrong. it's about how it felt for taylor as the artist of her own work. and all's fair in love and poetry, after all.

[meglosthegreat]

"It was fun, but it got a little boring by the end" is perhaps the most common review of Veilguard's combat that I've seen. No one seems to have strong opinions about it, overall. As far as things to have beef with this game over, it doesn't even make the shortlist, really. I mean, it was fine.

But hell, I'm not above being petty, especially when it comes to this game. So amidst all the other things wrong with this game, here's my hot take: Bioware doesn't understand RPG combat, and why it's useful in, you know, RPGs, as they ostensibly claim to make.

This didn't start with Veilguard, though Veilguard is obviously the subject of this post. It was apparent since before DAI that they were gravitating towards action combat, and I had a lot of problems with Inquisition's system at the time. But Veilguard took it even further, doubling down on their pivot away from RPG mechanics. And, well, I don't think a proper RPG system could've saved this game. But it could've given the game something it desperately lacks - replayability.

RPGs are long games, are driven by the premise that most players will not follow the exact same path towards the end, and above all, are designed to be played in as many ways as possible. This is why character classes exist; why there are multiple weapons to choose from, and why there are more party members to pick from than can fit in your party at once. This works when you consider the other hallmarks of RPGs: different story paths, dialogue choices, and romance options. Variation outside of combat compliments variation within it, and this makes a good RPG something you can play several times and have a completely different experience each time.

And more than that, the mechanics of an RPG compliment a game that could take anywhere from 80-100 hours to complete. You NEED that level of choice within the game mechanics to get you through that long a game, and Veilguard's problem is that it has the length of an RPG, but the combat system of your average 30-40 hour action game.

Of course, there are excellent action games out there that are also up in the 100-hour range, but what these games do that Veilguard did not, is put the majority of focus on their combat systems. Elden Ring is probably the best example of this, but of course we wouldn't want a Dragon Age that's like Elden Ring, really - Dragon Age needs to have more going for it than just combat. And if you can't build your whole game around its combat system, then you need something that has the longevity to sustain a 100-hour runtime.

Everyone bemoaning the lack of direct companion control is absolutely correct - their lack of damage output and usefulness compared to the player renders them basically meaningless in combat. But what this also does is make any kind of customization of their abilities or their gear next to pointless. Even if you could replay this game and build them differently - which you can't, let's be clear - doing so would not make a single iota of difference in combat.

And Rook themselves - well, consensus is that the game starts to get boring about 40 hours in. That's roughly the place where you've gotten enough skill points to specialize in one thing, and though, sure, you could theoretically refund all your points and try something else, by that time you've gotten enough points to acquire all the skills in the general tree anyway. It doesn't help that the gear system is such that whichever items you happen to get early will probably be the ones you end up sticking with. It definitely doesn't help that the enemies in this game severely lack variation, and once you've fought one dragon, you've fought them all.

You know what would have helped? Giving people multiple ways to approach combat. Giving us enemies that require a different approach. Giving us companions that you can build out in interesting ways. Giving us, in short, a reason to play this game again. Because if you're going to create an 80-100 hour game that has very little else going on mechanically, then the very least you can do is make sure your combat is actually fun for the full 100 hours.

[ghostgirl-22]

Idk if you write this kind of thing but i have ocd and i always see art as having it. Im just imagining Art spiralling, becoming neurotic and obsessive over his appearance, hygiene, schedules, social interactions ect til he has a nervous breakdown/panic attack

Mostly just imagining patrick being there for him over the years, calming his attacks, distracting him, helping him loosen up and telling him everything is okay and he loves him, he can always tell when arts mind starts drifting again and he squeezes his hand to ground him and remind him hes there ❤

Ooh lovely anon sorry this took forever <3 I wrote the whole thing from Arts perspective and realized I really don’t have much (read: any) experience with ocd and didn’t want to go to deep into thought processes so I just decided to scrap everything and try it from Patrick’s pov. I probably still fucked it but I hope that you will forgive me and let me know if I’ve harmed you in anyway by writing this. It is definitely not my intention so I will happily fix any issues<3 I will say some of Patrick’s language and reactions are awkward on purpose because he’s not a trained psychiatrist just some guy trying to be there for his friend.

Anywho! This is SFW. The smallest hints of homoerotic tension but that’s because this is challengers yall!! it’s not conclave which is also a great movie btw!

Everything is romantic 💝

—-

Patrick doesn’t always understand it. He remembers the first time Art had a panic attack in front of him. They were 12. Art had heard news that his grandma had fallen down and was in the hospital. Patrick didn’t know that but he woke up to Art trying to catch his breath. He was soaking wet, just out of the shower, splotchy red, still in his towel. Head down between his hands. Fists clenched around his ears, shaking like he couldn’t get comfortable if he wanted to. Patrick had panicked a bit, thinking he was having a seizure or something.

He hurried out of bed and sat next to Art on his, asking what was wrong. Art could barely get the words out but he grabbed onto Patrick when he got up to alert their floor monitor. “Please no, s-stay with me.” Art gasped.

And so Patrick did. He felt a little uncomfortable at first and started making stupid, tasteless jokes about celebrities just to cut through the heaviness. Surprisingly it got Art to smile and relax his fists just a little bit. He even brought up the time his sister dared him to dress up like Britney Spears and do the dance. That really made Art laugh. “I want to see a picture.”

Later on Art admitted he was afraid he’d caused his grandmas accident because he’d done something dirty (touched himself) the night before she got hurt and maybe God was punishing him. He’d been scrubbing himself raw in the shower trying to redeem himself. Intrusive thoughts in his head about her getting an infection, thoughts about her dying if he didn’t get clean.

“No way, you don’t have that kinda power,” Patrick said gently. “Besides God has so many people to worry about. I don’t think he’s sending all his punishment to a random kid for touching himself when there are murderers out there getting away with it.” He didn’t think Art really believed him but he was definitely calmer before they turned off the light. Luckily his grandma was fine. Just a broken wrist, no surgery required and she went home a few days later.

It wasn’t always related to something as serious as his grandma’s health. Coach told them a few years later that they were on the shortlist to earn recognition for being advanced players (especially for their age) during the end of year banquet. Patrick enjoyed the attention but he didn’t need recognition to have fun on the court. He and Art had managed to become a well oiled machine as doubles partners, they were 14, playing kids who were 17 and the best in their state and beating them. That was enough recognition for Patrick.

Oddly enough Art didn’t take the news well. He was already very strict about his training routine but he went a little crazy at the idea of earning that award. He was up everyday before dawn for two weeks. Running himself ragged in training.

By now Patrick had been roommates with him for 2 years and he could somewhat recognize the signs of an impending breakdown. And inevitably it happened after practice. Everyone else was exhausted, in the locker rooms, showering, changing eager to go home and get food. Art stayed on the court, hitting against the wall. Patrick cleaned up and when he came back out to convince Art to come with him to the mess hall, he noticed that Art was breathless, crying, slamming tennis balls against the wall over and over with all the force he could muster.

“Hey!” Patrick called several times trying to get his attention. “Hey, Art! Stop. Stop,” Patrick said when he got close enough that he could wrestle the racket away from him. Art sort of crumpled in his arms. Breathless, sweaty. His body tense.

That time Patrick sat on the tennis court with him until he started to calm down. Talking nonsense as it started to get dark around them. After a while Art finally admitted he didn’t feel like he was good enough for the award. He’d missed a few backhands while they played in the tournament against Piney Creek Academy and he’d been beating himself up ever since, forcing himself to get it right. “I feel like you carry me. Like I’m not even fucking good.” Art mutters.

“Dont be ridiculous. Yeah, I’m a little bit like a crazy person. But you’re a fucking machine. And I mean that in a good way.” Patrick explains.

Art snorts, little fireflies are beginning to light up around them, the cicadas and crickets are singing. “I don’t think that’s a good thing.” He says.

“In tennis it is…look at Federer. Look, nothing phases him. That’s just like you on that court when you’re not in your head. When everything…like all your mental whatever…when that leaves your head and you’re really playing… it’s like nothing can shake you. Least of all me. I fucking need you baby. Fire and ice. That’s us.”

Art smiles. “You’re comparing me to Federer?”

“Dont let it go to your head but yes. Hell fucking yes,” Patrick says. He still can’t figure out whether or not he’s saying the right thing. He read somewhere talking through it and distractions helped with panic attacks but it doesn’t specifically mention what to talk about. He probably shouldn’t be waving off Art’s very real mental thing as “mental whatever” but he does seem more relaxed. Enough that he’s finally ready to go inside for food. Which Patrick is starving for.

He’s aware of a lot of Arts ticks by the time they’re at the top of the school. He knows about ocd, he’s read a lot about it over the years. He can identify the types of things Art obsesses about. Even the compulsions. He’s still a little sucky at figuring out when he’s contributing to Arts anxiety but he’s really trying not to. And he’s really good at identifying the panic attacks. He’s even been able to stop a few before they got out of control.

When they're on the bus back from an away game and everyone is excitedly chatting about prom that night. Who they’re going with and how fun it’s gonna be. Patrick notices it when Art starts dissociating, when his eyes go glassy and he starts to rock back and forth anxiously in the seat beside him. Touch usually helps a lot to ground him back in reality. So Patrick grabs hold of his thigh, making Art aware of his presence. Maybe too aware. It brings him back down to earth but with how close they were…Patrick couldn’t help but notice it woke up something else. He didn’t want to freak Art out so he decided to ignore it for now, though he grips Arts fingers instead.

“You feel better?” He asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, clearly grateful that Patrick is pretending not to notice as he adjusts himself. “Um it’s a whole thing about prom and expecting to embarrass myself and the thought of that making me panic and then the idea of panicking in front of everyone being embarrassing and then panicking about that yeah…I’m…” he makes the crazy gesture. He’s much more comfortable talking about it to Patrick now. He’s been in therapy and also Patrick’s been there with him since they were little.

“You know Maddy’s not perfect, right?” Patrick says amusedly talking about Arts prom date.

Art nudges him playfully with his leg, “I know.”

“Try to relax and have fun. And remember she came in 10th place in the girls round robin. Dude Stevie Miles beat her.”

Art laughs and takes a breath, continuing to smile fondly. “Yeah…okay thanks Pat. Sorry about—“ he gestures awkwardly to his lap.

Patrick brushes it off. It does intrigue him but he figures now isn’t the time or place to press. “It’s no problem.”

“And I mean thanks for always… I don’t know. Thanks for not freaking out when I…even when we were kids. I’m so glad I got you as my— thanks.”

Patrick shrugs, swallowing on something in his throat. “Listen dude go easy on the punch tonight,” Patrick says, changing the subject. He wraps his arm around Arts shoulder talking a little quieter. “We’re gonna spike it.”

“You’re not,” Art says, eyes wide.

“Dont look so innocent you heard us planning it.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“When am I not serious?” Patrick smirks.

“Whatever just don’t get expelled you idiot. If I have to play those Austrians with Miller as my partner at the Open I really will freak out.”

“Oh no don’t worry,” Patrick laughs like it’s fool proof. “I’ll be there. I’ve got you.”

(I ask that you suspend your disbelief because I needed to put Serena/federer/Nadal and Murray into a previous tennis generation so I don’t have to think about the idea of Art beating Nadal on a clay court cause my imagination is not that big lol. Also I can’t recall who Art and Pat played against in the junior us open. I should probably rewatch the movie 😅)

[venomous-qwille]

hi qwille!!! I got questions for u! you have lots of characters planned out, and that’s super cool! but how do u usually go about that process? like all your characters are very unique, and I wonder about the design process, as well as how you make their personality distinct! how do you make character dynamics/relationships? because all the scenes I’ve read so far make the characters feel really organic, and mesh really well together! (sorry for all the questions! I’m super curious ^w^)

Hiya! Here is an answer I wrote for this question on discord recently ^^

I will try answer this as thoroughly as possible!

There was a LOT of kill your darlings involved in making characters for gitm. Originally I had a very long list of character ideas that I cut down and down based on the kind of things and themes they would give me the opportunity to write about. I love long ensemble cast stories, thinking back to ones I particularly enjoyed and the ways those characters gelled together helped me a lot. The most important thing when selecting characters was making sure they would give me something interesting to write about! I was also very keen on ones that let me explore the fics main theme of Family from a different angle. I'm not sure how helpful this all is! But yeah, I try to be pretty strict with myself about what I include. The only reason I would include two characters who were very very similar would be to emphasize a difference/divergence between them later on. Characters have to justify themselves by bringing something unique to the table, even if that thing is just a 'very different outlook on life' to the rest of the cast. Over time a lot of those character ideas became more fleshed out in my brain, and characters that were cut from the original shortlist made their way back in. They still have to be able to narratively justify themselves in order to earn a channel in the discord though!

For the gitm guys, while I dont have a literal sheet I fill out I do make sure to answer a couple of basic character work questions: What lie do they believe about themselves/the world? How does it impact the way they interact with others? What central theme do they embody most? What do they want more than anything else? How do they feel about humans? Who are they at their best and who are they at their worst? I found that by answering these sort of questions it helped me discover more about them, which creates more questions- rinse and repeat. The more questions I answered the further away they would get from each other in terms of similarities. The thing that really helped with the gitm boys, especially because their origins are so similar, was leaning in to how different their experiences were post-fazco. They are different people because the world has made them that way. Messing around with foils has been useful too! Characters are no fun in a vacuum, it's how they interact with others that makes them interesting. I like to create ones that will bring out the best and the worst in each other. I think about opposites a lot and I really like narrative symmetry- what lessons can the characters learn from each other? I find that stuff super exciting to read so I really wanted to include it. Some examples of character foils in gitm: Fool & Noon, Sombra & Sunspot, Misuta & Sol

When it comes to finding character voice, I do a lot of test drabbles (a couple of them are on this server), which I use to just fuck around until I find something that feels right. For instance- Sol was very very easy to find the voice of, where as Misuta took weeks of rewrites. Sometimes things take time. Spending this time figuring out their voices at the start really helps fic consistence in the long run, I think. Because of all that prep, I don't really have to do anything to 'get into character' when writing their dialogue (it's fairly second nature now).

In regards to coming up with a character's arc, I look at them and their themes and ask 'what the fuck happened to you, dude?' and then 'how has that entrenched a faulty world view on you?' 'what could you be driven to do because of that world view/misunderstanding?' 'what would it take to fix this world view/misunderstanding?' (the last question is the most important one!). Then voila, you have a very loose framework of a (hopepunk) character arc.

In regards to the actual planning of the fic/character arcs, I have a very big miro board (pic attached) that I use for all this! Most of the major character beats are marked out separately to plot beats etc etc. There are still a bunch of bits that only reside in my brain, but I do try to add them to my plan as soon as they become any kind of concrete. All of the characters also have a background chapter (or rather, a series of chapters that form a short story) attached to their arc, that will recontextualise everything you have learned about them so far! I am so deeply looking forward to dropping these (I already have quite a lot written).

I would say that- for your question on character relationships- the answer does come down to being really specific about what you include. Make sure characters are meaningfully different from eachother, give them goals and experiences that clash and then force them to live/work together in the same space. If you have put time into building your characters before that, then you just need to create opportunities for them to get into conflict and bring out the best/worst in eachother. I really do believe that characters are quite boring in a vacuum- which is why I put so much emphasis on including narrative foils ^^ Tyvm for the ask <3