#Mid – Week winning numbers

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

ABBA - Waterloo 1974

"Waterloo" is a song by Swedish pop group ABBA, with music composed by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus and lyrics written by Stikkan Anderson. It is first single of the group's second studio album of the same name, and their first under the Atlantic label in the US. This was also the first single to be credited to the group performing under the name ABBA. The title and lyrics reference the 1815 Battle of Waterloo, and use it as a metaphor for a romantic relationship.

In 1974, "Waterloo" represented Sweden in the 19th edition of the Eurovision Song Contest held in Brighton, winning the contest and beginning ABBA's path to worldwide fame. The song differed from the standard "dramatic ballad" tradition at the contest by its flavour and rhythm, as well as by its performance. ABBA gave the audience something that had rarely been seen before in Eurovision: flashy costumes (including silver platform boots), a catchy uptempo song and simple choreography. It was the first winning entry in a language other than that of their home country; prior to 1973, all Eurovision singers had been required to sing in their country's native tongue, a restriction that was lifted briefly for the contests between 1973 and 1976 (thus allowing "Waterloo" to be sung in English), then reinstated before ultimately being removed again in 1999. Watch the performance in Swedish here. Sveriges Radio released a promo video for "Waterloo" that was directed by film director Lasse Hallström, whose first notable English-language film success was What's Eating Gilbert Grape in 1993. ABBA recorded the German and French versions of "Waterloo" in March and April 1974; the French version was adapted by Alain Boublil, who would later go on to co-write the 1980 musical Les Misérables.

The song shot to number 1 in the UK and stayed there for two weeks, becoming the first of the band's nine UK number 1's, and the 16th biggest selling single of the year in the UK. It also topped the charts in Belgium, Denmark, Finland, West Germany, Ireland, Norway, and Switzerland, while reaching the Top 3 in Austria, France, the Netherlands, Spain, and Sweden. Unlike other Eurovision-winning tunes, the song's appeal transcended Europe: "Waterloo" also topped the charts in South Africa, and reached the Top 10 in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Rhodesia, and the US (peaking at number 6, their third-highest-charting US hit after number 1 "Dancing Queen" and number 3 "Take a Chance on Me"). In 2005, at Eurovision fiftieth anniversary competition Congratulations: 50 Years of the Eurovision Song Contest, "Waterloo" was chosen as the best song in the contest's history.

"Waterloo" is featured in the encore of the musical Mamma Mia!. The song does not have a context or a meaning. It is just performed as a musical number in which members of the audience are encouraged to get up off their seats and sing, dance and clap along. The song is performed by the cast over the closing credits of the film Mamma Mia!, but is not featured on the official soundtrack. It is also performed as part of the story in the sequel, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, by Hugh Skinner and Lily James.

The Australian film Muriel's Wedding (1994), features "Waterloo" in a pivotal scene in which lead Toni Collette bonds with the character played by Rachel Griffiths. The film's soundtrack, featuring five ABBA tracks, is widely regarded as having helped to fuel the revival of popular interest in ABBA's music in the mid-1990s. "Waterloo" features prominently in the 2015 science-fiction film The Martian. The song plays as the film's lead, played by Matt Damon, works to ready his launch vehicle for a last-chance escape from Mars. In "Mother Simpson", the eighth episode of the seventh season of The Simpsons, Mr. Burns plays "Ride of the Valkyries" from a tank about to storm the Simpson home, but the song is cut-off and "Waterloo" is played, to which Smithers apologizes, advising he "must have accidentally taped over that".

"Waterloo" received a total of 89% yes votes!

(the video is posted by ABBA's own account, not Eurovision's = safe to watch)

[vivwritesfics]

(She's) Off The Track

Y/N is pregnant, not allowed to race, and she's pissed about it

When the video went up on everybody's social media, the fans panicked. It was similar, eerily so, to Sebastian Vettel's retirement announcement.

But she couldn't be retiring, could she? She was only in her mid twenties and hungry for a win. There was no way she was retiring already.

She sat there in the video, a white wall behind her, and stared. For a full two and a half seconds she said nothing, but it felt so much longer. Anxious fans waited chewing on their nails as they waited to see what was going on.

To Y/N, the person in the video, it felt like she was doing one of those youtuber apology videos. Well, this was a severe and continuous lapse in her judgement, but it had ended in something wonderful.

"It's with regret that I sit here before you all to tell you that I will not be partaking in the rest of the Formula One season," she said and breathed out, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest. "In my place Liam Lawson will be driving in the second seat of the AlphaTauri."

"We thank you all for your continuous support and look forward to seeing all of you when I return to the grid next year."

She never said why, never let the fans know why she was going to be absent from the track. The fans still saw her everywhere, though. In the paddock, cheering on her replacement, or in the background of her boyfriends streams.

"This is your fault," she said as she sat on the beanbag behind Lando, placing malteasers into her mouth. "If it weren't for you, I would still be racing."

Although she sat it, it wasn't serious. It wasn't his fault at all. Actually, she didn't want to blame this on anybody; it was a welcomed surprise.

It had been a good sixteen weeks since she last sat in a Formula One car. There one race that Y/N wasn't at, leaving all the fans speculating where she could be. And then there was a two week gap between the races.

The next race she attended, something was clearly different. Lando held her hand, staying close to her while Martin Brundle interviewed her. He walked her to the AlphaTauri garage, something he didn't normally do, and didn't leave until she was being safely escorted by Daniel Ricciardo.

But the most noticeable difference was the baby bump was she sporting.

SHE'S PREGNANT!! said everybody online. It was maybe the best kept secret of the paddock.

Even though the secret was out, Y/N and Lando still didn't address it. If any interviewer tried to ask about the pregnancy, Lando would walk her away or place himself between her and the interviewer, protective fiancé mode engaged.

When the last grand prix she was allowed to attend before she had to stop flying rolled around, Y/N spent more time than usual in front of the car that should have been hers. Her hand rested on her stomach as she looked at the number 40 car. It should have been number 69, her driver number.

"Next year," she said through a sigh as Liam approached. He offered her a smile, the kind that said he sympathised with her.

Towards the end of the season she had to stop attending. There were only two races left and Lando was predicted to be on the podium for all of them.

And he was on the podium. She was forced to watch it from their television at home. She celebrated with a glass of water and a nap.

Y/N went into labour at the start of winter break. It was lucky, actually, that Lando was home and able to rush her to the hospital. He held her hand through it all and, soon, their baby boy was crying in his arms.

Ten months went by. Y/N and Lando spent the entirety of the winter break as a family, caring for their son, introducing him to the family (the grid family and their actual families) and celebrating firsts with him. When they brought him home, when he first slept in his crib, his first trip in the car, first trip in the zoo, taking him around the marina.

Lando took pictures of it all. His jpg account was full of these pictures, as long as they didn't show their sons face.

His first introduction to the Formula one world came when he was just ten months old, at the Brazilian Grand Prix. Before Y/N and Lando left their hotel, it had been a big debate over whether he was going to be wearing a McLaren onesie or an AlphaTauri onesie (Lando had won and they walked him around in a bright orange onesie).

The grid loved meeting Emmet "Chuck" Norris (Daniel thought he was really funny with that one). Emmets favourite people were Danny and Max, who had worked together to teach him to respond to his name of Chuck.

He sat in his parents cars and that was when Y/N and Lando knew, he was going to be a racer.

[samkerrworshipper]

After seeing the pics of alexia at the Barça basketball game could you do one where she is finally playing the wag role for reader? Just overall enjoying being readers number one fan

on the sidelines

alexia putellas x reader

just a lil fluffy blurb that i wrote in half an hour… defo no proof read or spell checked so sorry in advance xo

desperately working on getting some more reqs out for y’all but i’m so overhauled with coursework that it’s taking me way longer so sorry if your request gets ignored as of rn mid terms are killing me ☠️

“A triple double, Y/n, one incredible feat, how do you feel knowing that your team is through to the play offs?”

You were buzzing, still coming down from the endorphin high as you tried to focus on the reporter who had been the first to attack you as soon as you’d finished shaking hands with your opponents, not even giving you the opportunity to leave the court.

“Every game is a team game, I’m obviously wrapped, but half of that wouldn’t have happened without my teammates. I’m obviously elated that we’re through to finals, the job starts now for us, everything we’ve worked for this season falls down to the next few weeks so we work hard, it’s not over until the final siren.”

The reporter smiled at you and you gave your signature smile back to the camera, trying to get this over and done with as soon as possible.

“The modesty is appreciated, but how did you feel about coming second in the league MVP poll earlier in the week?”

You bit down on your lap, it was a rude question, but you had been prepared for it.

“Obviously I would have loved to come home with the trophy, but it wasn’t meant to be. I have so much respect for Stewie and she deserved the award just as much as anybody else who we were contending against. Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits about individual awards, what matters to me is this playoffs series and maybe I can bring that trophy home instead.”

You smiled once again at the reporter and camera, slowly becoming more uncomfortable with the conversation the longer it went on.

“Now, we all have some questions about the trip down under you took a few weeks ago, any particular reason you decided to go home?”

You began to haphazardly fiddle with the microphone in your hands, willing for this interview to conclude so you could just enjoy your win.

“I missed home, the few days that I spent their were really nice and the team can tell you that since then I have been in much better spirits, sometimes you just need a reset and it was just really good timing that we had the two week break.”

The reporter smirked at you and you could feel the underlying question under her smirk.

“So nothing to do with your visit aligning with the World Cup final and one particular Spanish player who’s here tonight, sporting your number?”

You felt your face flush a little bit at the unforgiving blatancy of the reporter, very quickly trying to remember everything they’d taught you about avoiding questions in media training.

“A good friend of mine, Sam, extended the invitation and gave me some tickets to the finals games so how could I refuse? I mean the sheer pride for the Tillies that I held watching them progress was insane, nothing better than seeing women's sport be elevated at home.”

You could tell the reporter was nagging for you to answer the part of her question that you were ignoring.

“So just a coincidence then that you happened to spend a few days in Barcelona on a layover before returning back to New York?”

You bit the inside of the cheek, this wasn’t what you’d been expecting after winning one of the biggest games in your career.

“Are you implying something, Jackie?”

Your eyebrows rose in mock sarcasm, trying to laugh off the situation and make the reporter understand the message that this wasn’t something you wanted to talk about.

“Simply wondering whether you had anything to do with the presence of Alexia Putellas, or as we all know her, La Reina at tonight's game, and if she happened to be the person you were looking up at tonight everytime you scored?”

You shivered at the mention of her name.

“Alexia and I are good friends, and I will leave it at that.”

You smiled at the camera, enough of a smile that it was genuine but not enough to lead anybody on, because that wasn’t what you wanted to do, you wanted to leave them hanging.

“Good friends that wear each other's jerseys to each other's matches?”

You smirked at the camera, the annoyance of this situation slowly getting to you more and more.

“Good friends that just don’t pack enough of their own clothes when they visit.”

Your voice was dismissive, enough to tell the reporter that you weren’t interested in broaching the topic any further if she wanted to continue to have a conversation with you.

“So, quite the comeback you’ve made in the past 48 months, double back surgery is certainly an impressive feat, how has it felt returning to the court this season and competing at the same level that you were before your injury, especially after how the injury resulted in you sitting out the bronze medal olympic match?”

You could feel the sweat across your body starting to go cold, a true sign that you’d been talking for far to long.

“I’m obviously feeling great, better than ever really. Sitting out at the Olympics was devastating, obviously but I promised that I’d be back and here I am, I’m still working on my recovery, but hopefully by the time the olympics roll around next year I’ll be back fully and bringing home some hardware.”

The reporter laughed heartily at your weak joke, an action that made you a little woozy.

“I’m sorry but that’s all the questions I’ll be answering, my coach is getting rather antsy on the sidelines and it would do me some good not to annoy her right now, so I’ll have to wish you all a goodbye, and see you later for the playoffs.”

You sent a kiss towards the camera before handing the microphone and headset back to the filming crew before following your coach over to the sideline and then into the tunnel towards your change rooms. Sandy patted you on the back as you made your way back to the rooms, just consciously quickening your steps a little bit so you could make the distance as quickly as possible.

You’d never liked limelight, or any of the media attention. You’d started out playing country basketball with your siblings, out on the court all throughout the middle of summer. Eventually, after joining a club and playing some juniors you got picked up by the Perth team and then had worked your way upwards, but never had you played for the attention or glory, growing up, womens basketball in Australia was severely underappreciated, so you’d never had to really face any media attention. But the WNBA was a whole different ballpark and you were still adjusting after 6 seasons to the amount of ways you were now exposed to the general public.

Your whole body relaxed when you spotted Alexia standing beside the locker room door, hand in her phone, flicking furiously through it. You ran directly towards her, almost bowling her over with your strong strides.

She wrapped her arms around you almost immediately, allowing your to bury your head in her neck as you breathed in the scent of her, and the scent of one of your spare jerseys sitting comfortable across her muscley arms and chest. It was a sight for sore eyes, one that you’d been waiting far to long to see.

“I fucking hate reporters.”

Alexia snorted at you, it wasn’t often that she got to see you after games, both of you having extremely busy schedules that hardly allowed for time to go and watch each other mess around with a ball on a pitch or court for an hour.

“I know bebita, but you did so well.”

She concluded her statement in the very best way possible, plastering a series of kisses all over your face that made you giddy on the inside and had you pushing her off of you. The tunnel was a fairly safe place from reporters, but you could never be too sure who was creeping around and a part of you didn’t need your relationship being revealed right at this moment.

Something about having your number across Alexia’s chest set a fire in your soul and you stepped back from her embrace to take it in, to take in the sight of her standing in front fo you, her perfect shoulders on show, sitting comfortable beside the jersey. A few of her back tattoos peaking out from her shoulders giving you a indescribable view of the ink. Her collection was constantly growing and you swore every time she returned to you there was a new one for her to show you and tell you the story of.

She had paired the jersey with a plain pair of white jeans and her washed out pink hair was sitting comfortably on her shoulders, the strands being pushed out of her face by the Prada sunglasses sitting comfortably on her head, sunglasses you were certain had absolutely zero purpose besides being an accessory. You did have to admit that the pink had been your favourite hair in a long while, in fact you’d been the one who Alexia had convinced to help with the dye when she had one of her midnight crisis’ that had you marching down to the chemist to buy neon pink hair dye to make your girlfriend happy.

“I like it when you’re the wag.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, spinning around to give you a look at your brandished last name, sitting perfectly between the valley of skin that travelled between her shoulder blades, everything about it was so perfect to you, warming your soul from the inside.

“I do have to admit, it was quite fun sitting in the crowd for once and pretending I knew what was happening.”

You chuckled, you’d been trying your very hardest to teach Alexia the rules of your sport from the start of your relationship, and to her credit she had a grasp on the more basic rules, but she was absolutely shocking at much more than that. She watched every single one of your games, and yet she had absolutely zero grasp on how the sport of basketball actually worked.

“Look at that, La Reina admitting that she enjoyed being a wag.”

Alexia rolled her eyes at you, her hand coming to rest on your sweaty arm, providing some pressure to your forearm.

“Don’t you even think about telling any of the Barca girls, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You smiled down at Alexia’s hand, loving the way that her body slotted in so perfectly with you, she knew your body like the back of her own hand and knew exactly what parts of you she should touch in different situations.

“Don’t you worry your little head, this will be our little secret, at least until the girls find my post game interview.”

Alexia nodded concedingly, it was inevitable that your relationship was eventually going to come out to the public, neither of you were particularly stressed about it, it would happen when it happened. You’d gone three years without anybody catching on, only now heading into the fourth year were people really starting to recognise the relationship.

“Go shower, you stink.”

You let Alexia push you towards the locker room door, her face nose scrunching up in faux disgust at you.

“Yes ma’am, La Reina, ma’am.”

The older woman once again rolled her eyes at you, but couldn’t avoid your own hand reached out to hers, silently tugging her into the locker rooms with you. It wasn’t irregular for teammates partners to end up in the rooms after games, and you knew that Alexia would just end up waiting alone in the hallway for you whilst you went about your post game routine.

You lead her towards your cubby, seating her down on the bench before reaching down behind her and pulling out the few items of clothing and toiletries you needed for the shower. One quick look down at Ale revealed to you just how in awe she was of what was occurring around her. There was nothing special happening, most teammates doing similar things to you and beginning their post game rituals.

“Mi amor, I’m going to the shower now, just stay here, bien, and don’t hesitate to ask anybody for something if you need it, si?”

Alexia nodded at you aimlessly, her eyes darting around the room as she took in her surroundings, You took the opportunity to dip out of the room and into the showers, hastening your normal routine so you could return to her as quickly as possible.

You showered in record time, washing your hair and body so quickly you were certain you almost got whiplash from the jolting of your arms and muscles in every direction and you frantically moved around in the shower.

When you returned to Alexia she was in the same spot as you’d left her, her eyes still searching the room and taking in everything happened around her. It was cute to see her so out of place, it was something you’d never seen on her before and something about seeing her like a deer in the headlights made you fall so much further in love with her.

“Cãrino? Let’s go, yeah?”

Alexia’s eyes flashed up to meet your own, her lips falling to a genuine smile as she stood up from your cubby, and before you could pick up your bag she took the honours, collecting the things that you knew you’d need back at the apartment and piling them into your bag before sliding it over her shoulder and starting to walk out, her arm falling comfortably over you shoulder as the two of you met each others pace, walking out towards your car that Alexia had driven you to the game in.

She took care in placing your bag in the boot before sliding into the driver's seat, your keys clanking in the ignition as she started the car.

Almost as soon as she was pulling out of the stadium Alexia’s hand fell to your thigh, a comfortable reminder of the footballers presence.

“You played so well today bebita, I was so proud of you.”

You smiled waterily at Alexia, it was one thing for a reporter to tell you, but for the woman you loved most in the world to tell you that meant something else.

“Thank you, but don’t act like you knew what was going on.”

Alexia cocked her head to the side, frowning at you a little bit.

“Si, maybe, but you got the, what did they call it again? El triple doble, no? Marta said it’s kind of like a hat trick but in basketball lingo, you sunk muchos tres.”

You smiled at Alexia, nodding your head at the Spaniards lack of knowledge over the game you cared for so much, and her attempt at trying to talk basketball to you.

“Yes, I did score a few threes, all of them were for a special person who came out to watch me today.”

Alexia smiled at you, turning her head at the lights to look at you.

“Mm, who might that be?”

You bit your lip, breaking out in a big smile.

“She’s Spanish, and not very good at understanding basketball but she tries and that’s all that matters, she also looks really cute in teal.”

Alexia’s smile only grew at your admission.

“Oh, and she’s a pretty good wag if I do say so myself.”

Alexia silenced your words with a sweet kiss, pressing her lips to yours softly, the two of you having to break apart when the light turned green.

“I’d watch you any day.”

Alexia’s words were murmured quietly, an almost silent acknowledgment of her feelings that was meant just for you.

“I’d watch you any day as well mi amor.”

[wileys-russo]

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

as always unc!era remains god tier, based on this request

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

"-and you're sure she doesn't know?" you asked lotte for the tenth time who rolled her eyes. "yes i'm sure! have i ever lied to you?" the brunette chuckled, keeping a careful eye out as she ushered you through the campus.

you'd met your girlfriend when you were sixteen at a house party, she'd gone along with a few of her under nineteen national team after a big win and the cheers the small group had gained as the entered captured your attention.

you'd known lotte for years having grown up a few houses down from her your families had become quite close, though once things with football became more serious you'd seen less of her still at school yourself.

so quickly making your way over for a hug and hello was when she'd introduced you to a few of her friends, alessia a little tongue tied around you much to her friends amusement as she seemed to follow you around all night not unlike a lost puppy.

you'd exchanged numbers and hung out a few times. her crush on you was anything but subtle as you finally grew inpatient of waiting for her to make a move after weeks of pining and made one of your own, catching her off guard.

from then on her confidence grew as did your feelings for one another and the rest was a story she loved to tell people at any chance she was given, especially now that you both lived in separate countries and were doing long distance.

which lead to right now as lotte let herself into her dorm room, ushering you inside with a worried look around, knowing alessia was due over anytime now. it was the final game of the season, the championship, and you'd lead alessia to believe you'd not be able to be there for it.

your own university had broken up last week despite you lying to your girlfriend of almost two and a half years now that you had another fortnight of exams and wouldn't be able to come and support her, which she was gutted by but made sure not to show this to you knowing your own education wasn't any less important than hers.

you'd come and seen her in north carolina a few times now though rarely while she was mid season given your university semester dates seldom allowed you to, and you relished in the few weeks every term break where she was back home and the two of you fell into your old routine together.

distance does make the heart grow fonder but the small lapses in it where you were back together again just meant leaving one another and going back to having that distance was so much harder, and it hurt a lot for the first few days adjusting back into it.

the blonde was by nature incredibly hard to surprise, always working out your plans before you had a chance to even try much to your growing frustrations and her insistence that it was an 'accident'.

so spurred on by her family you'd concocted this plan and roped lotte in to help, alessia's own family were due to touch down in a few days time and you'd stay with them for the most part but lotte had pulled some strings with the coaches that would mean you could stay with alessia at the uni for a few days beforehand.

but first, came the seemingly simple task of surprising her with your presence. however you knew nothing was that easy with the stubborn striker and the lack of contact from you for a couple of days as you'd flown over was sure to have raised her suspicions.

you'd even gone as far as to memorise the time differences, making sure you weren't texting her as you normally would once you touched down, since you were supposed to be sleeping.

you'd excused your lack of contact and drawn it down to your need to study for the exams which didn't really exist, alessia being understanding as usual though you knew from chatting with lotte on the way back from the airport that your girlfriend had been miserable.

"get in the closet."

"what?" you gave the taller brunette a bewildered look as she opened the door, dropped your bags down and gestured inside. "lotte!" you huffed, this not a part of the original plan.

"you want to surprise her right? you can jump out and scare the living daylights of her, very romantic." lotte grinned gesturing again for you to get inside.

"i came out of the closet three years ago wubben-moy, this feels slightly homophobic." you huffed as she shoved you playfully and you stepped inside, hurriedly closing the door as knocks sounded on the other one.

your heart rate accelerated hearing your girlfriends voice as she entered the room, knowing she was only a few metres away after not seeing her in person for months now.

"lotte why do i have to help you catch up? you're normally so on top of your assignments this is very unlike you." you heard alessia groan and the squeak of a mattress meaning she'd likely collapsed onto the bed, and you could very near imagine the bored look which would be etched in her features.

"oh its not me who needs help with their studies." lotte stated and you heard her knock twice on the cupboard door signally you were good to go. "what the hell do you mean its not-"

"surprise!" you shouted as you barelled out of the closet, both you and lotte grinning as alessia jolted up and very near went flying off the edge of the bed as she just caught herself.

"can you help me study for my exams please babe?" you smiled, a flash of blonde flying toward you and you laughed as her hands hooked under your thighs hoisting you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs wrapping around the taller girls waist.

"surprise, finally got ya russo." you chirped with a grin, softening as you wiped a few stray tears from the corner of her eyes. "baby don't cry." you laughed, hugging her tightly and running a hand through her hair, winking at lotte who was filming a few feet away.

"but you were-and then you said-but you had to-don't you have-" the striker rambled out among her sniffles, hopelessly lost and most definitely shocked as she struggled to even get out a sentence.

"i know, might have told a few white lies love but in my defence you are incredibly hard to surprise. so nosy!" you teased, your girlfriend placing you back down on your feet and pulling you in for another hug, your face pressed into her shoulder as she clung onto you as if worried it was all some sort of dream.

"are you really here right now?" "i'm really here right now, and you've got me all to yourself till we fly home for spring break."

"seriously!" alessia's eyes widened even further as her lips finally curled into a shit eating grin. "if thats okay?" you clarified, not entirely sure of her schedule as her head nodded about a million miles per hour, grin somehow widening even further.

"alright lovebirds it was a pleasure to help meddle in this little plan but i don't fancy a live show of you 'catching up' so please, exit stage left!" lotte smiled, opening her door and waving for the two of you to leave.

you tried to grab your bags but your girlfriend had them all in her hands before you could even try. "shut up." the blonde smiled shutting down your protests, sweetly kissing your cheek a few times as lotte jokingly gagged and your stomach fluttered at even just the brief sensation of her lips against your skin.

"less let me just take one!" you laughed as she struggled, shifting your duffle on her shoulder so she could free up a hand to grab yours, the two of you mostly you, hugging lotte goodbye as you departed for alessia's own room which was only luckily just down the hall.

you'd been here before so there wasn't any need for a tour, just time to make up for as your girlfriend jutted out her hip and nodded for you to grab her room keys from her pocket. unlocking the door the two of you hurried inside, alessia dropping your bags the moment it clicked closed again.

"god i missed you." she exhaled shakily and within seconds her hands were on your hips and your body was being pulled flush into hers, her head dipping to connect her mouth to yours as your knees nearly buckled from the breathless passionate kiss you were rewarded with.

"missed you more." you mumbled against her lips, hands resting on her cheeks as she pulled the two of you to sit down on the edge of her bed, never breaking the kiss for even a second.

"hi." you finally pulled away, pressing your forehead against hers. "hello gorgeous." the blonde beamed, unable to keep the smile off her face as you wrapped your arms around her neck and the two of you collapsed with a laugh back into the mattress.

"you really had no idea at all?" you questioned, slotting your legs between hers as she firmly shook her head. "not a single bit. i was moping alot because we weren't talking much, lotte told me i was becoming insufferable to be around." the striker pouted which you made quick work of kissing away, grinning at the slight blush which coated her cheeks afterwards.

"now thats hardly a championship winning attitude baby." you smiled in amusement as again she perked up, pushing herself up to rest on one elbow. "you'll be here for the game!" alessia realized excitedly, flopping down on top of you and peppering your face with kisses as you laughed and pushed her off.

"you can wear one of my jerseys, i'll braid your hair, you can sit with my family and- wait do they know you're here too?" your girlfriend rambled on as you nodded. "sure do. honestly shocked neither one of your brothers let it slip, they're just as bad as you are with surprises." you teased with a grin.

"its a russo family curse i'm afraid my love." "what to be hopelessly nosy?" "hey!"

~

"less!" you laughed, trying to take a seat as your girlfriend slid her body left and right, blocking you at every opportunity as she patted her thighs expectantly.

"only one seat left i'm afraid, sorry babe." the striker grinned, wrapping her arms around your torso and pulling you down to sit on her lap as you rolled your eyes. "are they always like this?" one of her teammates katie asked lotte who hummed as alessia smacked her shoulder.

"don't be jealous now girls." the blonde winked as you sighed dramatically causing her to playfully pinch your side. "hey we're hardly jealous, its your little love bubble which caused you to be late which means you're running the beep test solo this afternoon at training." katie smirked as your girlfriend groaned loudly, forehead thumping into your back.

"i would like the jury to know that it was not my fault and i tried for a half an hour to encourage her to get up and out of bed but she refused." you spoke loudly as lotte smacked her fist on her textbook like a judges gavel proclaiming your innocence.

"i'm not a morning person and i don't understand why we have to go for a team run at 6am in summer!" alessia huffed as you twisted around and played with the rings on her fingers absentmindedly.

"that doesn't sound very team orientated of you captain russo." you smirked, katie cheering and giving you a high five as you felt your girlfriends glare burn into the back of your head, stretching around to smile and peck at her lips.

"you should come watch, see your girlfriend all sweaty and hot." madeline another one of her teammates grinned from beside lotte. "more like puffing, panting and on the ground half dead. its boiling out there and again need i remind less; beep test." katie added on as alessia groaned even louder, squeezing you tightly.

"i'll be sure to bring a video camera." you nodded eagerly, her teammates roaring with laughter as your girlfriend continued her whining, disappointed when no one took her side or agreed to her plan to try and get out of the beep test, all of them having been up and ready in the morning and lacking in sympathy.

luckily for alessia given that it was so close to the championship training was a closed afair so she'd left you to occupy yourself in her dorm room, almost making herself late again as she'd insisted on about a hundred kisses goodbye.

"alessia you'll be done in a few hours and i'll be right here, you're not off to fight a war love get out!" you laughed pushing at her chest as she puckered her lips for another kiss, sighing dramatically and blowing you one final kiss as she raced out the door.

arriving luckily with just a few seconds to spare she saved herself any further punishment, the solo beep test enough of a grueling humiliation as the rest of her team sat with ice vests and water bottles on the sideline cheering her on.

finally making it to the last level alessia could run no more, collapsing onto her back and covering her eyes with her arm, nodding along to her coaches words and heeding the warning if she blew off a single training she'd be benched and stripped of the captains armband.

though it seemed harsh she knew it was fair and that as captain she needed to step up and set a good example, her team mates helping her up and strapping an ice vest on, helping her to sit down and chug a powerade as everyone stretched and chattered about the weekends match.

finally dismissed the girls dragged themselves off the pitch, alessia practically peeling herself off the bench, grabbing their bags and all reminded firmly that there was to be another 6am run tomorrow and everyone was expected to show at 5:45am sharp.

now she could breath and somewhat walk again the teasing began, alessia taking it all on the chin as slowly the girls branched off in small groups heading for their respective dorm buildings and agreeing to meet up later to do dinner together and some team bonding, a subtle request from the coaching staff.

hearing alessia's key turn in the door she'd opened it before you could even stand, sat with your feet propped up on her desk reading a book. "hey baby." you greeted her happily, a grin curling onto your lips at the disheveled sight of her.

"how was the beep test?" you teased as she dropped her bag and kicked her slides off by the door, collapsing to lay down on the floor with a deep sigh. "that fun huh?" you laughed spinning around in her chair, still adjusting from the english cold you were certainly feeling the heat yourself. so you couldn't even begin to imagine running around in it for a few hours like alessia had been.

"go shower lessi, you'll feel much better." you encouraged, poking her limp form with your foot as she whined and pushed it away. "too hot to move." alessia mumbled, patting the floor beside her clearly expecting you to lay down with her.

"not till you shower, i can smell you from here." you smirked, an u impressed glare sent your way as your girlfriend slowly got up to her feet with a groan of pain. "thanks for your sympathy babe." she grumbled as she did.

"alessia!" it was now your turn to groan as she wrapped herself around you, her skin sticking uncomfortably to your own. "get off you're disgustingly sweaty." you moaned trying to wrench her hands off to no avail.

"didn't you miss me baby? honestly you're so rude." she mumbled into your neck making you roll your eyes. "are you studying?" she frowned at the book in your hands. "no! some of us like to just read...for fun." you smacked her forehead with the book.

"mmm my smart pretty girl, soon to be a lawyer!" alessia grinned wolfishly, pecking your lips and gratefully peeling herself off of you. "more like in three more years baby but thank you for your support." you chuckled.

"i still tell everyone my girlfriends studying law, very very very proudly." alessia beamed, hovering over you as she held herself up, hands gripping the arms of the desk chair you were sat in.

"as i tell everyone my girlfriend is going to win gold for england in the next olympics, very very very proudly." you smiled up at her, both your eyes shining with adoration. "that medal will be going right around your neck baby, my good luck charm." alessia mumbled as she pressed her lips to yours, you pushing her away before she could go any further.

"go shower! then we can makeout." "or we could shower together and makeout." "well women are supposed to be good at multi tasking right?" "mm exactly love. so lets go prove their point then."

~

"that was pathetic! you can do so much better than that." alessia laughed, effortlessly stopping the ball with her foot and shaking her head. "you're supposed to be coaching me here not insulting me!" you huffed crossing your arms with a pointed stare.

"i have told you over and over how to kick it, i can't kick it for you baby." alessia grinned, rolling the ball back to you as you sighed, smiling sarcastically as she commended your trapping it.

the two of you were messing around kicking a ball on a spare pitch she'd been given access to as captain, having accompanied your girlfriend for her afternoon workout, even joining in much to her utter delight.

though you knew really alessia only encouraged it so that she could have her hands all over you in nothing but a pair of bike shorts and a sports bra as she 'helped you' use all the equipment as if you'd never stepped foot in a gym before, but hardly disliking her hands all over you you played into it.

for a cool down she'd suggested the two of you kick a ball around, the sun setting the perfect backdrop for you to agree as you'd spent more time taking photos than playing any form of football as your girlfriend has confiscated your phone.

"football is your thing not mine!" you huffed as again your shots were all easily blocked by your girlfriend in goal. "okay now i'm going to defend and you have to get past me and shoot, no one to stop you scoring once you do. easy!" alessia stepped forward as you grabbed the ball and placed it by your feet.

"give me your worst babe."

of course, even your very worst was no match for the footballer between you, alessia taking the ball off you with ease every single time.

"ref! where's the ref! contact!" you yelled as your girlfriends arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground, carrying you easily in one arm as she expertly flicked the ball into the back of the net.

"referee! obstruction!" you laughed, alessia throwing you over her shoulder as she pumped her arms up in victory, spinning the two of you around before collapsing to the ground and taking you with her.

"dirty cheat, you've been in america too long!" you laughed, moving so your head was resting on her bare stomach, both of you just in shorts and sports bra's as the thick summer heat was pelting down even as the evening ascended.

"russo! clear off please the juniors have to train!"

~

"-and then my mum said they're already headed over with some of the other families so to meet them at the field." your girlfriend informed as you hummed, her head laid in your lap as you sat against the headboard of her bed.

"we should really get going love, you're starting to cut it fine." you reminded with a smile, chuckling as she sighed and buried her face in your stomach. "i'm nervous."

"what?" you frowned, not quite hearing her with her face smushed into your top. "i'm nervous." she sighed, sitting up and moving so she was beside you, your hand quickly grabbing hers.

"thats to be expected baby this is a big game. but you've played big games and all you can do is give it your best and no one can ask anything more of you!" you stated firmly, moving so you were straddling her lap and grabbing her face in your hands.

"you are a phenomenal brilliant passionate talented footballer lessi, you've already played for your senior national team three times and you're only twenty. thats huge!" you traced her jaw with your thumbs as she nodded.

"you're the captain of this team for a reason and i have not a shadow of doubt one day you're gonna be captain of england. this is that first step you have to take toward it, next up is the euros and the olympics and the world cup, onwards and upwards. but for now you need to go out give 100% and inspire your girls to do the same! you're going to win this and lift that championship trophy, i know you are." you promised.

"can you repeat that? i'm going to need to write it down and give it as my captains speech." the blonde joked though you were relieved to see the tension in her shoulders ease a little at your words. "i love you. i am so fucking happy you're here and you have no idea how much it means to me." alessias hands caressed your thighs with a gentle squeeze.

"i love you more, my star girl."

~

"i have to say the pink tape wrap headband she's rocking is something new, is that an american thing?" gio tutted as you rolled your eyes and pushed him, luca mumbling to focus on the game as the match ticked down to its final minutes, unc ahead by just a singular goal they'd well and truly parked the bus.

"this is it, this is the last play." you exhaled shakily as the injury time ran out and the opposition gained a corner. "i can't watch." you shook your head, covering your face with your hands as alessias mum carol rubbed your back with a chuckle on your other side.

you peeked through a crack in your fingers as there was a thump and the baill sailed through the air, a sea of players decked out in both baby blue and red pushed and shoved one another desperate to make first contact.

it was the opposition who got the first touch, smacking the ball at goal as it just grazed the keepers fingers and there was a sharp inhale from the home support, no one uttering a word.

but as the body of players parted it revealed the unc goalkeeper did make the save, curled up around the ball as the whistle blew for full time and there was a thunderous roar as everyone around you all leapt to their feet with whistles, screams, claps and cheers.

you jumped about and hugged alessia's family and friends, watching on with a heart swelled up with pride as your girlfriend raced around the field with her team.

"thats your cue!" gio nudged you as she appeared at the barrier grinning up at you, ignoring her brothers making kissy faces as mario told them off and you made your way down toward her.

"told you you could do it." you beamed as you hung over the barrier, your girlfriend pulling you into a hug as you whispered her praises into her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"proper one for the winner?" the blonde grabbed your jersey in her fists with a grin, tugging your lips to meet her own as you kissed her, cheeks flushing red at the wolf whistles from her team mates who alessia flipped off without even needing to break the kiss.

"my winner."

[syoddeye]

thinking more important thoughts

soap would win great british bake off. i just know this man treats baking like a science (it is). his showstoppers are feats of engineering and fun! but they have to edit a lot of his 'jokes' out. :/

gaz would be a fan favorite, known for his meticulous decoration and beloved for how easily he gets along with everyone. lots of quippy one-liners. he probably places 2nd or 3rd, setting off a minor subreddit war.

simon would also be a fan favorite because it's jarring to see the undertaker lite™ like him in the tent, surrounded by pastels. the most gif'd due to his dead stare and 🧍 stance. booted mid-series.

price is out within the first two weeks. sorry. but while he has the fine motor skills and patience of a sniper, years of smoking cigars does a number on his tastebuds. no razzle dazzle factor in decorating, either.

[honeyedmiller]

Law of Attraction — Chapter Two: Exposition

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: professor!Joel, student!reader, (consensual) professor x student relations, joel miller au, reader is mentioned to be plus sized, drinking, jealousy, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), smut (m oral receiving, fingering, face sitting, unprotected piv), fluff, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 5.3k

chapter synopsis: only one student gets chosen to go on an all-inclusive trip to the criminal justice expo that’s held at a different location every year. what happens when professor miller happens to be the attending staff representing the university of austin?

Your phone pinged in your lap, and you tore your eyes away from the TV screen to see what it was. You and your roommate, Adrienne, who also happened to be your best friend, were watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.

It was Saturday night and both of you felt like staying in, which ended up with both of you making dinner and filling up wine glasses before you settled in on the couch to watch the beloved show.

“Holy shit.” You say out loud, not believing the student e-mail you received in your inbox.

“What?” Adrienne questioned, gaze slowly moving to you.

“I got accepted– my application,” You started, completely dumbfounded. “I get to go to the criminal justice expo.”

“What? No fucking way dude! Isn’t that like a one-student-only type deal?” Adrienne questioned, turning her body to fully face you.

You nod, looking down to your phone again. You scrolled down the email, looking for the details of where it was going to be this year.

“It’s in California this year,” You say, chewing on your bottom lip to find out the attending staff from your school. You froze when you saw his name pop up. “Professor Miller is the attending staff.”

Adrienne’s face lit up, and she nudged you with her foot. “Are you kidding me? Free drinks, free food, free flight, and you get to bone again with your hot Professor?”

“Adri!”

“What? Oh, come on, you said that the sex you two had was mind blowing. Now you guys can, you know, fuck on an actual bed instead of a desk.” She snickered, and you rolled your eyes.

Adrienne knew how hot Joel was. She never had him as a professor, but people talked regardless. She was an alumni now and when you told her you two fucked, she nearly lost her mind. She told you to give her all the juicy details, and congratulated you for finally allowing yourself to have something like this.

You and Joel had been texting back and forth every so often within the past couple of weeks, and when it came to seeing him in class, he could barely look your way. He told you that if he did, he’d just get way too turned on to even carry on with the lesson.

The trip was over the beginning weekend of spring break, which was in a week. You sighed and toyed with your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating on telling Joel if you were the chosen student.

“So are you gonna tell Professor Hottie that you’re going to California?” It’s like Adrienne could read your mind sometimes.

“Actually, I think I’m going to keep it a surprise.”

She raises her eyebrows, “Will there be a bar there?”

You look up the hotel listed on the itinerary— J.W. Marriott in Los Angeles.

“The hotel has a bar.”

“So what I’m hearing is we need to go shopping for a nice little number that’ll make him wanna eat you right up.” Adrienne cocks an eyebrow up at you, and you purse your lips into a thin line. You knew you wouldn’t win this argument if you told her no.

“I mean, I’m going back home. Might as well shmooze some potential employers too, right?” You crack a grin at her, and she cheers while clapping her hands.

“You’re gonna look so hot in California. Professor M won’t know what’s coming to him.”

-

The following week went by swiftly. Your flight left at six in the morning to Los Angeles. As soon as you got to the hotel, you showered and napped before you had to get ready for the convergence of the first night.

The black dress Adrienne helped you pick out defined your curves, giving you a sexy silhouette. You took your time getting ready. You wore your hair down, put dark brown shadow in the crease of your eye, dusted gold shimmer over the top of your lid, and painted your lips red. You slipped on your trustee black heels and gave yourself one last look-over before you decided you looked hot enough to woo the richest man in the room.

You knew Joel was going to be downstairs, as staff and faculty had to pair with students from their own school. He texted you that he’d miss you since he had to go to this event before spring break, so it meant that he had absolutely no clue you’d be here. Unless he did, and he was just playing coy.

You put your keycard in your clutch, spritzing your favorite perfume on yourself, and walked out of your room to head for the elevator. Your heels clicked against the wooden floors of the elevator, and the glossy metal surrounding you gave you a good view of your reflection. You hit the button to take you down to the lobby, going back to looking at yourself a little bit longer.

You felt confident if you were honest with yourself. You usually adorned your body in looser clothing, something comfy and casual that wouldn’t show off too many of your curves. That was just your comfort zone—but, after the way you’ve been feeling lately, it’s elevated ten times more.

The elevator dinged, signaling you were down at the lobby’s level. The convention room wasn’t too far off, veering to the right. There were already so many students and faculty members from all kinds of different universities, mingling and drinking and having a good time. Nerves overtook your body for a split second before completely dissipating when you realized you were the one turning heads.

You decided it was safest to head for the bar first, just to get a little bit of liquid courage into your system. You ordered a Mai Tai, graciously thanking the bartender as you slipped onto a stool and deliberately sipped on your drink.

You turned your body so your eyes could casually scan the crowd, but in all reality, you were looking for Joel. Not even a few minutes later, and you spotted him. He looked deliciously handsome, with some dark slacks that hung low on his hips with an aqua blue button-up that complimented his tan skin tone exquisitely. His black glasses that framed his face matched his shiny black shoes. But, there was just one thing.

He wasn’t alone.

Some woman, who looked to be around his age, had a gentle hand on his bicep as she was laughing at something he said. They were talking with two other gentlemen whom you didn’t recognize.

You felt it. The ugly green monster slowly crept into you, seeping into your bones the longer you stared at Joel and the woman. They actually looked really nice together. Someone his age, more experienced, and really pretty. Someone his type.

You sipped on your drink some more, hating how you felt this way. He wasn’t even your boyfriend or anything of the sort. You two’ve only fucked once. He doesn’t owe you anything, and he can see whoever he pleases. So why did this make you so uneasy?

You sighed and slipped off of the stool, heading to the check-in area to get your lanyard that was supposed to say your name and the school you represented.

That’s when Joel spotted you from behind. He could recognize those beautiful curves anywhere. He excused himself from the conversation briefly as he made his way over to you, leaning against the table. You jumped at his presence, putting a hand over your heart, which was now racing.

“Joel.” You spoke softly, and he looked confused.

“Darlin’, what are you doin’ here? Are you the student that got chosen? Why didn’t ya tell me?” He asked all at once, his words coming out in a rush.

You simply shrugged. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it’s definitely one hell of a surprise. Look at you.” He whistled, eyes trailing down your body. You looked incredible and the more he looked at his surroundings, the more he saw men staring at you. They looked at you in an almost perverted way, and Joel frowned.

“Thanks, Professor. You clean up nicely too.” Your smile is lip tight, and you’re secretly begging the alcohol to start taking effect. Joel’s eyes roam down to your drink, and he quirks an eyebrow.

“C’mon, I have someone I want ya t’meet.” He holds out his arm for you so he can escort you to his previous spot, where the same woman you saw with him earlier stood talking to another woman this time.

“Joel! I was just telling Misty that their food at the breakfast buffet here is amazing. Will you join us tomorrow morning?” The woman asks, and Joel smiles.

“Of course, Tess. I’d love to.”

“And who might this lovely young woman be?” The woman, who’s name is apparently Tess, gestures to you.

“My student in my criminal law class. The one I told you about last week.”

So he talks about you?

“Mm. Well ain’t you a beauty. Even prettier than Joel described you to be.” Tess smiles at you, holding out a hand for you to shake. You take her hand in yours, giving it a shake as a shy smiles comes over your lips.

“Tess and I go way back. Went to college together. She’s my best friend. She works for the FBI now, actually.” Joel chuckles, and Tess waves a hand to ward his words off.

“That’s impressive. Hope my background check came out clean.” You joke, and Tess laughs.

“She’s funny, Joel,” Tess nudges him. She then turns to you. “Lovely woman you are, sweetheart. This here is my partner, Misty. She also works for the FBI.”

Her fucking partner. You feel so stupid. Why the fuck would you be so presumptuous when Joel’s been nothing but honest with you about everything you’ve asked him?

“It’s nice to meet you, Misty.” You say, shaking her hand.

“You too!” She beams, and you can already see the sunshine and realist dynamic between the two women. “You should join us for breakfast tomorrow.” She offers, tossing you a warm smile.

“Uhm,” You look at Joel for a split second. “I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Nonsense! You’re not intruding at all, sweetheart. I wanna get to know the woman Joel’s been gushing about to me all week.” Tess teases, and Joel’s face immediately turns crimson.

“Okay, Tess. Enough.” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

You quietly chuckle as you lightly pat his back.

“Didn’t know you were so fond of me, Professor.” You tease, and he looks at you with an amused expression.

Tess laughs lightheartedly at the interaction between you two, telling you both that she’ll see you both tomorrow before her and Misty bid you two goodbye.

You sipped on the rest of your drink, avoiding trying to talk. The air between you and Joel shifted, and you could feel the tension radiating between both of you.

“Let’s go get you another drink, yeah?” Joel offered, smiling softly down at you. You eyed your empty Mai Tai and nodded, making your way over to the bar with him.

“Another Mai Tai for her. I’ll take a whiskey, neat please.” He told the bartender, and he got started on your drinks.

“Lotta fellas lookin’ at you tonight, darlin’. Y’sure are stealin’ the show.” Joel looks down at you, then to the many eyes staring at you before glancing back to you. The amused expression on his face told you that he wasn’t jealous, but you saw the way his jaw clenched and the muscle ticked in annoyance.

Before you could say anything, the bartender handed you both your drinks. You thanked him and turned back to Joel, who was gripping his whiskey glass rather tightly.

“Are you jealous, Professor?” You quirk your eyebrow at him, taking the drink out of his hand before he could react. You sipped it once, leaving a red lipstick stain to coat the top of the glass. You smirked and slid the drink back into his hand, and his eyes widened as he wearily looked around the room to see if anyone was watching your flirtatious endeavor.

It’s not like you two would particularly get into trouble, because after all, you two were very much legal, consenting adults. However, professors sleeping with their students was a bit… well, frowned upon. Plus, the last thing Joel wanted was for anyone to think that you didn’t get into this expo due to hard work—which was the truth—but rather, by sleeping with him to weasel your way into the one student slot.

“Not here, darlin’.”

“Still didn’t answer my question, Mr. Miller.” Your voice was thick with lust, the idea of Joel getting jealous over you extremely gratifying.

You felt the stickiness of your arousal coat the thin pair of panties you had on, and you started to squirm in your seat.

Joel noticed this too, but he remained collected. “Yes, alright? I don’t like when others look at what’s mine.”

“Yours.” You repeat slowly, a small scoff behind your words. It came off as if you were unimpressed by his wording, but in reality, your stomach erupted with butterflies.

Joel leaned closer to you, not liking your response to his words. “Yes,” He hissed, “Mine. That delicious, tight little pussy is all mine, n’ I mean it when I say I don’t like sharin’.”

You swallowed thickly as he pulled back, studying your face. He took a nonchalant sip of his whiskey, smirk hidden behind the glass.

The smart ass in you wanted to tell him that it was modern times and you weren’t his fucking property, but you refrained. If that’s what it took for this man to fuck you again, then so be it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Miller.” You crossed one leg over the other as you sipped on your drink. The bartender had a heavy pour, so you were quickly feeling the affects of the alcohol now.

“Not dangerous when I know how to finish it.” He grits, downing the rest of his whiskey. You sip the rest of your drink nervously, all remembrance of being a lightweight being thrown out the window.

Joel could sense the nervousness that overtook you. You hated yourself for making it so clear that he affected you so much this way, but who could blame you with the way he looked at you?

He nods his head toward the exit. “C’mon, let me walk you to your room.”

Your heart sank in disappointment. Surely his words were just teasing words, and you almost pouted at him. How were you supposed to tell him you wanted him to fuck you until you saw stars?

You silently planted your heels to the ground once more, and with the convergence still in full swing, you doubt you two would be missed. Joel followed you into the elevator, and you let your body sink against the wall. You closed your eyes briefly, exhaustion slowly creeping over your body.

“What floor?” Joel asked.

“Fifteenth.”

He pushed the fifteenth floor button, and only about three floors up, you felt Joel’s hand on your waist. You peeled your eyes open and gasped softly at the new proximity between you two.

“You know how crazy you’ve been drivin’ me all night lookin’ like this, baby?” His whisper is hoarse, dangerously low. A glint of arousal flashes across the dark pools of his brown eyes, and your body instinctively moves closer to his. You’re flush up against him now, breathing uneven as you try to balance yourself.

“Joel.” You whine softly, clutching onto the collar of his shirt.

“I know, baby, I know.” He leans down to kiss you softly, and you completely melt into him. It’s like your body instinctively morphed into his as soon as he got close enough. You couldn’t help it. You craved his touch, his kiss, his expert tongue like nothing you’ve ever craved before.

He was intoxicating, and intoxicated off of him you were.

He took a free hand to slowly slide in between your thighs, already feeling how wet you were between your legs.

“Fuck, sweet girl.” Joel groaned, and you whimpered when he rubbed your clit over the fabric of your panties. He moved them to the side, knuckles teasing your slick folds as you clung onto him for dear life.

You started to grind your hips onto his knuckles, desperate for any kind of friction you could get. Joel chuckled at you, kissing your temple as you used his fingers to pleasure yourself.

“Such a needy pussy, baby.”

“Need you, Joel.”

“You’ll get me, baby. Patience.”

You groaned as he pushed a finger into you, pumping it at an expert pace. You felt the tight coil of release building up so much quicker than you anticipated, and right before you were about to cum, the elevator stopped with a ‘ding’.

Joel pulled his slick-soaked finger out of you, slipping it into his mouth as he sucked your arousal off of his digit. He pulled down your dress quickly before the doors opened, and you were practically trying to drag him to your room.

You made sure the coast was clear before unlocking your door with the keycard, tossing your clutch onto the table beside the door. As soon as the door closed, Joel pushed you up against it.

You had a moment of déjà vu, feeling like you were back in Joel’s office with you up against the door as he hungrily kissed you.

Your hands tangled into his styled hair, greedily tugging at it. You moaned against him, pushing yourself off of the door to lead Joel back to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. The back of his knees hit the bed, and you gently pushed him down so he’d sit.

“Take this dress off, baby. I wanna see you.” You turned around so he could help you with the zipper, and he happily obliged. He kissed the middle of your back once it became bare, and you turned around to face him again as you peeled the straps off of your shoulders. You were moving slowly on purpose, giving Joel a bit of a sensual show before you wanted to make him feel good.

Once the dress was completely off, you got down on your knees in front of him and began undoing his belt buckle. He ran a hand through your hair, cupping your jaw as you fiddled with the button of his slacks next.

“Y’don’t have to, baby.” Joel whispered, searching your eyes for apprehension. You shook your head at him.

“I want to. Wanted to since the day I laid eyes on you.” You confess, and he groans softly as you tap his hips, signaling him to lift them so you could take the clothing off of him. You palmed him through his boxers, giving his cock a slight tug over the cotton material.

If it’s one thing you were determined about, it was giving Joel the best head he’s ever had in his life. You slowly peeled off his boxers as well, tossing them somewhere in the room.

His erection sprang free, head swollen and leaking pre cum. You whined at the sight, biting your faded cherry red lips in anticipation. You looked up at Joel who looked at you expectantly, and you smiled up at him shyly before taking his cock into your hand, giving the silky flesh a few tugs. You kept doing that as you leaned down to trail kisses up his tan thighs, free hand rubbing circles into his skin before using your tongue to lick your way up to the base of his cock.

You moved your mouth away from him so you could finally give the tip a kiss, kitten licking it softly for a few seconds. The salty taste of pre cum melted onto your tongue, and you hummed up at him. You took the tip into your mouth, tongue swirling over it before moving further down his girthy shaft.

“Mmph– fuck, your mouth feels so goddamn good, baby.” Joel groaned, cradling the back of your head with his hand. You moved your mouth all the way down, being met with the coarse, unruly hairs at the bottom of his cock.

You moaned around him as you felt him twitch in your mouth, and you moved your mouth back up while squeezing your lips around him. You continued this motion for the next couple of minutes, bringing your free hand to gently fondle his balls.

His hips bucked up, causing you to gag around him. “Fuck, darlin’, ‘m sorry.”

You hummed against him again as you looked up into his eyes, brow furrowed and jaw clenched.

“Look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock like that, baby.” He was panting now, and you stuck your tongue out of your lips so you could lick the underside of his cock with ease.

Joel gripped the bed sheets with such sheer force that you thought the threading was going to rip. His uneven breathing was apparent now, and his head tossed back as he held onto the back of your head, moving it up and down faster.

“Fuck baby, ‘m gonna– shit.” He cursed, and you swallowed every last drop of cum that spilled onto your tongue. You let go of his cock from your mouth with a small pop, leaning back on your heels to look up at him. His eyes met yours after a brief minute and he hummed, chuckling while he shook his head.

“Christ, babydoll.” Was all he said before gently tugging your arm so you’d stand up. You looked so divine like this in front of him—all lace and heels and curves and a sex appeal he just couldn’t fulfill himself enough with. He needed you in every way all the time. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“You sound so hot when you moan for me, Joel.” You say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He pulled you closer to him by your hips. You nod, biting your lip. He smirks as you as your hands trail down to the buttons of his shirt. You undo them one by one before slipping the aqua material off of his body, leaving him completely bare for you.

“You’re so handsome.” You whisper, and he smiled shyly up at you. Joel Miller? Shy? That’s a new one. You concluded that he didn’t get told that often, so you made a mental note to tell him as much as possible from now on.

Joel moves back on the bed to lay his head down where the pillows were. “C’mere.”

You moved to sit on your heels on the bed next to him, and he tugged at your wrist. He brought you down for a kiss before mumbling against your lips. “I want you to sit on my face, sweet girl.”

You pulled apart from him quickly, puzzled and completely mortified. “What?”

“I want you,” He repeated, tugging you back down to him, “To sit. On. My. Face.” He emphasized each word, and you felt yourself clench around nothing at his request.

“Joel, are you sure? I’m– what if you can’t breathe? What if I’m too heavy?” Insecurity started to flood your mind quickly, and Joel shook his head.

“You’re not too heavy, baby. You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Just, please, sit that pretty pussy onto my goddamn face.” He begged, and your brows furrowed at him in disbelief.

You trusted him, though, so you sighed as you straddled Joel’s chest carefully. You shuffled forward before stopping right below where he wanted you most in that moment. He grabbed your thighs and forced you to move upward so you were hovering over his face.

“Sit.” Was all he said, but you hesitated for a second. His hands slid up to your hips, forcing them down so his breath fanned over your slick-coated pussy. He kissed your soft flesh over the lace of your panties, moaning at how your hips bucked at the slightest touch.

He brought one hand up before moving the lace of your panties aside, kissing your bare pussy this time. You moaned softly, grabbing onto the headboard before Joel licked a long stripe up your folds. You moaned louder this time, relishing in the heat of his skilled tongue as he lapped up your arousal. He started to eat you out like a man starved, dipping his tongue into you before moving it up and circling around your clit. His hands moved down to grip the soft flesh of your thighs once more, moving them back and forth to encourage you to ride his face.

“Use my face, sweet girl. C’mon.” His voice was muffled, but you got the message loud and clear. You decided to let go of your fears and started to grind your soaked cunt into his face, clit catching onto the hook of his strong nose.

“Fuck, Joel.” You cried, mouth falling agape as you used his mouth for your pleasure. He brought a hand down to your ass and squeezed it, moving his hand back to give your soft flesh a smack. You moaned at the feeling of your stinging flesh, moving your hips in circles.

Joel moaned from underneath you, shooting vibrations up and through your body. You felt that tight coil rapidly approaching again as Joel settled on sucking your clit once more, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.

It was like a dam bursting and the floodwaters came rushing in, unstoppable and forceful.

Your hips rutted against his face as you rode out your intense orgasm, crying his name like a prayer. All that was on your mind was exactly what was coming out of your mouth: Joel Joel Joel.

“Did so well f’me, honey. So fucking good.” He praised, bringing your body down to be leveled with his on the mattress.

Joel looked at you in your already blissfully fucked-out state, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were glossed over as they stared at him, body still convulsing at certain points as you rode out the last of your orgasm.

“Think y’got one more in you, sweet girl?” He asked, and you were confused at his initial question before it quickly dawned on you that he meant another orgasm. The exhausted part of you wanted to say no, but the insatiable part of you wanted to be filled and stretched by his intoxicating cock.

You nodded your head, and he smiled down at you with mischief. “Good. Wanna see those pretty eyes of yours roll back when I make you feel good.”

Fuck, he was really going to be the death of you.

He moved to unhook your bra from you in one easy motion, tossing the lace item somewhere in the room along with the rest of the clothes already in disarray. He maneuvered himself on top of you, and you looked up at him with such adoration. He smiled down at you as he moved down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, a hand cupping your jaw gently as you two just simply kissed for awhile.

It was nice that Joel brought the balance of sweet and sensual to the rough and sexy parts of having sex with him. Though you’ve only fucked once before this, you knew he was a tender lover when he really wanted to be.

Your felt Joel’s hardened cock against your inner thigh, so you took it upon yourself to gently grab it and start gliding his shaft against your folds. He moaned into your mouth as your thumb swiped over the tip, bucking your hips against him to get him soaked with your sticky sweetness.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He asked, taking his own cock into his hand before lining the tip up with your entrance. You nodded, and he gently pushed inside you until he reached the hilt.

The stretch was just as delicious as you remembered. So fucking full that it nearly knocked the breath out of you. You grabbed onto his biceps, jaw slack and brows furrowed.

“Look at me, sweet girl.” He murmured, and your eyes snapped open to find his. He smiled down at you before he started to move his hips, thrusting slowly at first before he started to pick up the pace.

“Feel so good, Joel.” You mumbled, intertwining your hands into his hair.

“So do you, angel.” He moaned as you clenched around him, savoring the feeling of you so warm and wet. He continued the tortured pace of his hips for a couple of more minutes before you decided you wanted, no, needed more. You wanted to see aforementioned stars.

“Faster Joel, please. Need you to fuck me faster.”

“Needy little cunt.” Joel chuckled, and you nodded in agreement.

“Please.” You whisper, and his hips doubled in pace.

“This what you want, angel?” He asks through gritted teeth, knowing he probably wouldn’t last long if he kept fucking you at this pace.

“God, fuck, yes!” You cried, gripping onto the bedsheets as your eyes started to roll into the back of your head. The tip of his cock was kissing that oh so sweet spot inside of you, and you got what you wanted: you were seeing stars.

You clamped your eyes shut as the sound of skin slapping on skin and lewd moans from the both of you filled the cozy hotel room. Joel brought his middle finger to your mouth, and he didn’t even have to ask you to suck on it. You just did.

With Joel, it was this invisible push and pull that drove you crazy. It truly bewildered you how well your body listened to him without him having to say a single goddamn word.

He popped his finger out of your mouth before moving it down to your clit, rubbing fast, tight circles around it. Your body felt like it was on fire as your orgasm built up inside of you. The pit in the depth of your core was licking flames up your spine, ready to burst at the seams at any given time.

“Joel, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, and he groaned in response.

“Cum with me, baby.” His voice sounded pleading, and you nodded quickly. You felt yourself come undone in the blink of an eye, Joel following suit.

You brought down Joel’s face to smash your lips with his, swallowing each other’s moans as you both rode out your earth-shattering orgasms.

Joel pulled apart from you and dropped his head onto your shoulder as he pumped into you twice more before pulling out. Joel immediately brought you into his side, stroking your bare back with his hand. Goosebumps raised onto your skin, and Joel smiled.

You both laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breaths, enjoying the peaceful aftermath of it all. You turned your head to press a kiss to his chest, heart beating slightly faster at your subtle movement.

“I think this is the best exposition I’ve ever been to.” You teased, tracing patterns on Joel’s chest. It rumbled when he laughed, grabbing your hand to press his lips to the back of it.

“Gotta say, it’s definitely mine too.” He agreed, and you softly giggled as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

You had so much to tell Adrienne when you got back home from California, and you knew she’d lose her mind–just like you’re losing yours as you slowly realized you’re falling for the man that lay beside you.

tag list: @cool-iguana ; @beskarandblasters ; @nostalxgic @pamasaur ; @untamedheart81 ; @joelslegalwhre ; @ilovepedro ; @sarap-77

[fluentmoviequoter]

i was wondering if you can do like a secret admirer / friends to lovers thing with tim bradford? like reader or tim are sending each other notes and get them something that they’ve mentioned before but never had time or the resources to get. sorry if that sounds confusing

I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted; if it's not, let me know and I'd be happy to try again! Thanks for the great request and please feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Secret Admirers

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, friends to lovers, obliviousness, brief LA Rams slander

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“How am I supposed to consider you a friend when you say things like that?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head. “You’re just mad because I’m right.”

“There are other things to do besides football,” you argue.

“I thought it was my night to pick.”

“You always pick football.”

“The Rams are playing.”

You sigh dramatically, leaning against Tim’s shoulder. “Fine, turn on the game, let me lose a few more IQ points.”

Tim’s shoulder moves below you, the only sign that he’s laughing at your actions. If you didn’t want to watch football, he wouldn’t make you, because he’s a good friend. No one knows; you only got close to him because of your relentless pursuit of getting to know him. And now you’re inseparable.

“You know you’re my closest friend?” you ask.

“Then you should get out more,” he deadpans.

“You love me.”

“Whatever you need to hear.”

“Tell me I’m your best friend and I’ll tell you the Rams are making it to the Super Bowl.” You lower your voice to add, “For once.”

Tim’s eyes narrow as he moves to look at you. “You have to mean it.”

Nodding, you put on your most serious expression.

“You are my best friend,” Tim says.

You smile brightly, and Tim presses his lips together to hide his smile.

“The Rams are going to the Super Bowl. Guaranteed,” you tell him.

“Well now they are. You’re our luck,” Tim mumbles, leaning back against the couch again.

“Heard that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You haven’t seen Tim in almost a week. After the game ended, a win for the Rams, he got called into work and has barely been home since. Just long enough to sleep and eat each night before he’s gone again. Los Angeles has been dealing with numerous crime sprees, like a miniature version of the Purge that the Mid-Wilshire Division faces singlehandedly.

Your stomach rumbles around lunchtime, and as you reach for your bag, you realize Tim probably hasn’t had a good meal this week. Dialing the number of his favorite restaurant, you place a huge order to be delivered to the station, not even thinking about letting Tim know who it’s from.

Knowing Tim has food he’ll enjoy, you rest a little easier and continue your day with a small smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” Tim sighs, letting you inside. “Sorry I’ve been so busy this week.”

“No problem, glad you’re home.”

“You’ll never guess what happened,” he says. “Someone sent a ton of food from my favorite restaurant yesterday afternoon. The timing was perfect; we were all exhausted and starving. And… it’s been so long since someone just did something nice for me like that.”

Tim smiles as he shakes his head gently.

“I wish I knew who it was from so I could thank them properly.”

You consider telling him, but first, you ask, “Think it’s a secret admirer?”

Tim barks out a single laugh. “Yeah, because this is going to become a regular thing.”

That’s all the answer you need. Keeping your mouth closed, you nod and become Tim Bradford’s secret admirer. He deserves everything and more, and it’s up to you to show him.

You’ve always felt something for Tim, and as you start taking note of little things he likes or wants, you avoid confronting what these feelings could really be.

✯✯✯✯✯

“More to come,” you say as you finish writing the letter.

After a few days of giving Tim small gifts and becoming more attuned to his wants and likes, you add handwritten notes to your deliveries to add a personal level. He hasn’t seen your writing enough to determine you are his secret admirer, so you give him the acknowledgment and words of affirmation he craves, often without knowing.

Securing the note to the top of the box, a new Rams jersey, you smile. Being Tim’s secret admirer makes you happy, but more than that, it makes Tim happy, which is the one thing you want in the world.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim opens the box before the letter, his eyes widening at the brand-new, once-worn Rams jersey. Closing it quickly, he reaches for the letter before stopping. Tim feels strange accepting the gifts, especially one that is so expensive. But, if whoever this is wants to do something so kind, the least he can do is accept them. It’s not just about the money, though, Tim realizes. His thoughts often drift to you, and he can’t place why, but he still wonders if accepting something from others will create a rift in his relationship with you.

First, it’s not too expensive. You deserve so much more than you would ever be willing to get for yourself. So, accept it and enjoy it.

Tim shakes his head; whoever wrote this knows him better than he thought. They’re probably close.

Happiness isn’t something you have to earn or prove you are worthy of.

Closing the card and tucking it underneath the jersey, Tim prepares to leave for the day. After stowing the thoughtful gift from his secret admirer in his backseat, he drives to a nearby store to pick up a few things for dinner.

While shopping, Tim sees something you have always wanted but have never been able to afford. After receiving so many kind gifts and hearing the exact words he unknowingly craves, he feels a strong urge to give you something you want and deserve, too.

It's after dark when he leaves the store, so Tim decides to put it on your porch in the morning as a surprise. You’ll know his writing, so he prints a note that you deserve nice things, even when you don’t feel like you do.

Once it’s safely on your porch before sunrise, and Tim is driving to the station, he realizes that he doesn’t like having a secret admirer. Not because he doesn’t like the gifts or the money spent on him, but because he doesn’t want to lose you if the secret admirer wants more.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tears gather in your eyes when you see the gift on your porch. After years of daydreaming about spending that kind of money on something you love and then talking yourself out of it with an argument that you don’t deserve it, you don’t know what to do. The note attached to it silences each of the thoughts racing through your mind.

Being a secret admirer and having one are very different things, and you’re not sure you like this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Each gift Tim receives over the next week deepens his frown, even as he reads the kind notes attached. He wants to know who it is, so he can explain that he’s grateful, but it needs to stop. You’ve stayed at his side through each letter, glad that someone is being kind. Tim’s contention comes from the fact that when he gets something, he wants to call you and share it with you, but that may not be fair to you. Yes, he’s your secret admirer, but he doesn’t want to lose you because of his. It’s probably an irrational fear, but if someone is doing this and expecting to move forward into a real relationship with Tim, he can’t. He won’t.

On Friday, the end of his first week as your secret admirer, he sends you a bouquet, not made of flowers, but of things that constitute your favorite hobby. It’s incredibly thoughtful, and the note comes straight from his heart. He mentions something specific about your past, smiling as he pictures your excited smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you accept the large arrangement, your eyes widen as you reach for the card first. The last line mentions something you’ve only talked about once. The one time you confided about it to someone was to Tim Bradford.

Your jaw drops as you realize that Tim is the only person who could have been doing this over the last week. That means he probably knows that you’re his secret admirer, too. Grabbing your car keys, you drive straight to the station, ready to tell Tim it’s been you and you meant every word you said.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Who dropped it off?” Tim demands.

“Sergeant,” the woman begins.

“Don’t tell me that it was a delivery, they have to give a name. I need to know who is giving me this stuff because I can’t accept it!”

You stop in the hallway, listening to Tim’s raised voice as he refuses to accept a gift. 

“I can look into it.”

“Please do,” Tim says, quieter.

Stepping out of the hall and walking toward the bullpen, Tim sees you, and his shoulders drop in relief. He walks to your side and leads you somewhere private to talk.

“You don’t want a secret admirer anymore?” you ask softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the envelope hidden behind your back.

“No.”

“Why not?”

 Tim sighs, rubbing his hand on his jaw before answering, “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

Even though you were sure the letter was from him, you drop your eyes and begin second-guessing yourself. Maybe you mentioned it to someone else, or they just found out. Tim notices your change and steps closer.

“What’s going on?” he asks gently.

“Nothing, I just- I should go.”

You rush out, and Tim can’t chase you because he has to work. He calls and texts you throughout the rest of the afternoon, growing grumpier with each ignored message and ring.

When he finally gets off work, he drives straight to you and knocks on your door, determined to get answers.

“I thought it was you,” you admit, opening the door and not letting him speak. “I was getting letters too and I thought they were from you.”

Tim’s anger dissipates nearly immediately with your soft voice and downcast eyes. “They were. The letters were from me.”

“Then-“

“That’s why I can’t let whoever is sending me such thoughtful gifts continue,” Tim interrupts. “Because I have feelings for you.”

You pull Tim inside, leaning against the door as you say, “But it's all been from me.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and his mouth gapes open as you pass him an envelope. He opens it, nearly choking on air as he sees two tickets to the next Rams game.

“Why didn’t you just tell me at the station?” he asks, looking between you and the tickets before moving toward you.

“You said you were in love with someone else,” you answer with a shrug.

Tim chuckles, letting you see his smile as he bends to look into your eyes. “Because I didn’t know it was you.”

“I was going to tell you. At the game, if you’d let me go.” You fiddle with your fingers until he slides his hand between yours.

“I have a better idea.”

“What?”

Tim sets the tickets on the table behind him. Turning toward you, he takes your face between his hands and kisses you. His slow, languid movements reinforce everything he has expressed through his actions and written words over the past week.

You gasp when his lips meet yours, clutching his shirt in your grasp as you kiss him, letting your actions speak yet again.

“Will you go out with me?” Tim asks, breathless as he pulls back, his hands dropping to your waist. “Some walking angel gave me a few Rams tickets, and I’d love to take you.”

“Depends,” you answer with a hum. “What are your thoughts on secret admirers?”

Tim squeezes your waist gently. “I love mine.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

How about reader, who is a seasoned gamer, invites Gaz to play something like Valorant or Fortnite etc. She says "dw it took me a while to get good too" but he picks it up stupid quick. He spends the rest of the time enjoying winding her up more than the actual game.

absolutely absolutely. gaz can and should get away with everything.

1,833 words / lucky number 13

...

"Gaz... you know most people play video games to escape their responsibilities."

"So you've told me." Gaz's voice crackles over your headset.

You're staring at your screen, watching as he confirms his character selection in the game's lobby. "You're absolutely sure you want to play tank?" you ask him.

He locks in his character, and it appears in the pregame lobby: a bald-headed, square-jawed guy with a muscular build and heavy armor.

"Positive. You're playing healer, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm playing tank. Pocket me."

"You've never even played this game. We'll both get obliterated."

"Come on. How hard can it be? Shoot, use ability, reset. I take the damage; you heal me; I dish it back out; we win; you thank me for carrying you as always. It's just like our usual game."

"Repeat that last one. I think your mic cut out on account of the bullshit."

"You don't think I can keep the heat off you?"

"I don't need you to keep the heat off me. I just want you to have fun and not die in the first five seconds of the round," you tell him. He did buy this game specifically to play it with you. After a totally reasonable amount of prodding on your part. It's been your go-to for weeks.

"Then pocket me and I won't die. I'm not having fun if I'm not in the thick of it. You know me."

"Fine. For one game."

"Bet," Gaz says, sounding smug about it. "I'm not gonna disappoint."

During that first game, he's getting his bearings. But he takes to it rather intuitively, especially with your help over voice chat. His tactical skills are whip-sharp as always. As you pocket him, you focus your character's abilities on keeping Gaz alive. But you switch to upping his damage output when you realize he's holding down a choke point by himself, taking on enemies and laying out a field of fire for your team. It's impressive, considering this is his first time playing the game.

When an enemy sneaks up on you, his pocket healer, he disposes of them with slightly more prejudice.

"You're pretty good at this," you tell him, scanning the results screen. "I mean, maybe mid-tier if you were on your own."

"Mid-tier?" he says, a little affronted. "It's called being adaptable. Not that you'd know. Hundreds of hours in this game and you're mid-tier support at best."

You cross your arms, leaning back in your computer chair. "Because I don't play support. You know what? I'm switching to DPS. See what you carry without me patching your ass up every ten seconds."

Back in the lobby, you select your main. Gaz eyes the character with a bit of respect. "A rogue, huh? You must think you're pretty good. Gonna need a lot more healing."

"Only if I get hit."

"I could sponge that damage right up for you. Keep you nice and safe."

You scoff. "Won't need it."

"Let's see."

In the next round, you weave in and out of combat, gleefully dodging attacks and landing devastating blows before you disappear. Your bread and butter. Meanwhile, Gaz does--at worst--an admirable job tanking. Still, when you look back and see enemies surrounding him, it's clear he could use an assist.

You double back and flank two of the enemies on him, picking them both off one by one. But before you can gloat, his voice in your headset interrupts you.

"Good kills, baby."

That's not the reaction you wanted. It immediately ticks you off. "I know."

He chuckles and takes down another enemy. He's tunneling in on the fight now that you've got him back on his feet, but clearly he still has time to talk to you. "Can't take a compliment."

The face that he's purposely pushing your buttons just irritates you more.

The next few games, he makes himself indispensable as a tank. It should be a good thing, but he keeps getting in your way specifically. You'd swear it's on purpose. He tanks hits for you and then acts like you'd lose the game without him. His cockiness is insufferable. Worse--you can't ignore how deftly he's scaling the difficulty curve here. He's holding the attention of the enemy players, keeping them away from you while you deal the damage. And you'd never admit it, but the way he's holding aggro is saving your ass.

You shouldn't need him to do that, though. You tell yourself the only reason you're not playing better is because he's forcing you to maneuver around him.

Then he offs the enemy rogue right as you're finishing her off. You swear into the mic. "Gaz, come on! You stole my kill."

"I'm giving my little rogue the help she needs. Besides, you know it's not about getting the most kills. It's about the team's collective score," he teases, and you have to remind yourself it's just a game.

It's like he can tell exactly what to do to piss you off in record time after that. Bossing you around, telling you to take this point or make that kill. He even pipes up once to remind you it'd be a good time to use your ult. You open your mouth to tell him it's not ready yet, but to your chagrin, you glance down and realize it is. Somehow he's keeping track? Unreal.

You're a little impressed about that one, but you'd never tell him. In your defense, he's distracting you with all this banter and teasing. He's making it hard to focus.

"No backseat gaming," you tell him.

"Wouldn't have to backseat game if you played better."

"I would be playing better if you weren't crowding me!" You sigh out your nose. "You're only doing this to get a rise out of me. Micromanaging me. I swear you get off on it."

"You're giving me too many opportunities to obsess over you." He sounds smirky.

The way he says it makes something in your lower stomach flip. You lose focus for half a second--long enough for the enemy rogue to slip past Gaz and smack you.

Gaz slams into her with his shield to stun her, then spins around and uses his special to deal more damage. That last hit downs her. You don't even have a chance to react.

His voice in your headset is smug still. "Like I said."

"Fine. Thanks."

"You can thank me by not dying again."

After the game, you sit back in your chair, arms crossed. "You sure talk a lot of shit."

"Am I?" You hear him grinning. "I hoped you'd give me a little more attitude than that."

"Oh, I know. You're not subtle."

"Neither are you. You get riled up so easy."

"You want me to fight you? Because it sounds like you'd rather me just roll over and bite the damn curb."

"No, you want that. You're a masochist."

"Thank you."

"It isn't a compliment."

"I know. Keep bullying me," you snark into your mic.

It's hard to resist teasing you when you say stuff like that. "Okay," he says, his tone turning playful. He leans back, crosses his legs, and situates himself in his chair. The game's results screen idles on his monitor, forgotten. "You've gotta stop making it so easy for me, though."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"Ooh, are we doing condescension now?"

"I've been condescending to you since minute one. I can turn it up if it's not obvious enough."

"Keep going and I'll get off."

"Off voice chat, you mean?"

You smirk. "No."

He smiles, rolling his shoulders back. "I can absolutely be more condescending to you if that's what your incompetent little heart desires."

You laugh. "You were just waiting to bring that one out, weren't you?"

"I've got several of them tucked away just in case you got mouthy, But let's be honest--you're always mouthy."

"You're one to talk. You talked hella trash that last match."

"Only because I had to pull your ass out of the line of fire all the time. If you were better, I wouldn't have to. You're giving me ammunition, here."

"I just think it's telling that you play tank."

"Are you saying I'm compensating for something?"

"You said it. Not me."

He rolls his eyes, smirking. "You want to talk about projecting? You're the masochist, and you play a rogue? The one class known for being fragile? You're putting a target on your own back. What does that say about you?"

"Better than a tank main," you quip.

"I'm taking all the hits so you can DPS your way to getting play of the game. Makes me sound proper generous."

You examine your nails. "Makes you sound like a control freak."

"Why don't you look me in the eye and say that? Turn on your cam."

Your grin widens. "Gaz, please. If I turned my webcam on every time some guy online asked me to, I'd never have time to play."

He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Who says I'm kidding? Come on, baby. Give me eye contact. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a control freak."

"Nope." You know he hates that you're not budging.

"Why? Aren't you decent?"

"More like I have Cheeto dust all over my hands."

"Doubt that."

"It's true."

"Come on. Prove it."

"See? Control freak."

"Fine, I'm a control freak--withyou. But you like it, don't you?"

"Oh, I love when you order me around. I love knowing exactly what you want me to do so I can avoid doing it forever."

He sits back in his chair and stares through his screen. It's not like he's never seen your face before. You've posted a selfie or two in shared chats. But he's never seen you cozied up in your pajamas. Or in a cute little robe. Or maybe a big t-shirt, the soft kind. Like he wears.

Yeah, he's realizing he's down bad. Worse than he thought.

"You wanna make the next round more interesting, then?" he asks.

You arch a brow, propping your sock-covered feet up on your desk. "Like how?"

"You lose, you turn on your camera, obviously."

You snicker. "I don't know what you think I get up to on a Friday night, but you're gonna be sorely disappointed." You pop another Cheeto in your mouth, knowing he'll hear it crunch.

Gaz laces his fingers behind his head. "I've already curbed my expectations. Bet you're sitting around in sweats and a hoodie with some anime character on it." Not that the thought of that isn't appealing. He suspects you don't let many people see you that way.

"You're... uh..." You look down at what you're wearing. "Not far off, actually."

"I know, baby. I've seen your Discord handle."

"So what if I win?"

"Then I won't tell anyone how hard you got stomped these last few rounds. And trust me, I'd be telling everyone. It's embarrassing how much of a load you were. Don't take that the wrong way, though--by all means, just sit there looking cute while I carry this next game."

"Oh, you're on."

Gaz grins, leaning forward. "Yeah, we'll see how cocky you are when I put you back in your place."

You pull your chair back up to your desk, hands poised over your mouse and keyboard. "Promises, promises."

Gaz readies up, too. "Don't worry, baby. I'll keep my word. But once I humble you, you're gonna regret ever doubting me."

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: Battles of Attrition

I think we can all agree that there’s something a little wonky with how d&d’s combat system changes between the early and mid/late game. Heroes go from being rightfully cautious about danger to being outright banal about it, confident that their accumulated power will be enough to dispatch all but the most outstanding foes.  The traditional solution is to put them up against stronger enemies but in my experience these mismatched encounters are a failing proposition: combat just gets more swingy and there’s only so many high level threats I can throw at them in a short period of time before it begins to strain credulity.   

While a lot of folks (Especially the OSR crowd) have taken the stance that 5e is broken because of how much it empowers players, I think the real fault lays with the lack of systems that exist to provide challenge outside of anything related to the damage based tug-of-war that is combat.  I think a lot of those systems were part of the non existent “exploration” pillar of the game before Hasbro realized they could make easy money selling the game in its unfinished state and gutted it along with the development team. 

Thankfully, I and other homebrewers are around to do what the megacorporations cant, namely have some original thoughts and try and figure out a way to add challenge back to the game without resenting those playing it for having fun. 

TLDR:  Trying to make our games challenging by upping damage numbers in combat is a losing proposition, in no small part because that part of the game is DESIGNED around the heroes winning. Instead, we up the overall difficulty by making them temporarily weaker with systems like sickness, stress, exhaustion, & item degradation. All of which I have details and guidelines on below the cut. 

First and foremost let me state some of my goals for these “attrition systems”, so we can all be on the same page. Whenever I make homebrew rules I try for something that’s going to require little to no paperwork on behalf of the players and can be seamlessly implemented into my DMing style. It’s not about realism, it’s not about punishing players, this is a way for me to add mechanical depth without bogging down the machine entirely. 

Attrition should be largely non-permanent.  The 5e audience invests a lot in their characters both emotionally and mechanically, so it won’t do to pile on debilitating debuff after debuff to the point of making a character useless. 

There should be an inverse relationship between the severity of the affliction and how long it lasts. Think in term of encounters, days, or weeks, (with the understanding that an attrition that goes on for long enough becomes a questhook in itself) 

The exception to this rule is if someone hits 0 hitpoints. I’m outspoken in my stance that characters should only die when it’s alternatively appropriate, but the dm is at liberty to inflict thematically devastating setbacks in the unlikely event that the party DOES suffer losses in the damage tug of war. 

We want to be sparing with how much attrition we throw at the party at once, so as to not create a “death spiral” where failures compound upon one another and make getting through the adventure impossible. 

In most cases suffering Attrition should be something the party is able to avoid by being fast/lucky/cautious/clever or whatever else the encounter requires. It’s there to add weight and consequence to their actions, and as a factor for DMs to build scenarios around. 

Exhaustion:  Unlike a lot of the other changes made in Oned&d, I actually quite like the overhaul of “each point of exhaustion is a cumulative -1 to all d20 rolls and spell dc, beyond 10 is death” as it allows us to play with exhaustion far more readily as an attrition. 

Every night you don’t rest in a haven (a safe comfortable place)  you need to make a con save or take a point of exhaustion, with the ruggedness of the environment determining the DC. Characters with the survival skill or natural explorer feat don’t have to make this roll. Only rest in a haven removes exhaustion at the rate of one point per night (though spaces like a luxury inn or a peaceful glade watched over by friendly fey may restore more)  

Hitting 0 hp and then being healed gives you a point of exhaustion. Nothing’s going to tire you out like getting magically defibulated so now everyone can stop complaining about healing word spam. 

Poison:  For our purposes, the “poisoned” condition as written  is too severe. Disadvantage on all attacks and ability checks is downright punishing for anything other than a single battle. Instead we’re going to make it work like charmed, where there’s a baseline effect for the purposes of resistance, but the status of each poison is dependant on the source.  

Poison falls in the “ short term big effect” side of attrition, specifically undermining a player’s ability to do most things since most effects end on a successful save or at the end of an encounter. Long lasting poisons should have more minor effects than the default poisoned condition, only applying to a few types of rolls or having a bane-like effect that makes judging the odds just a little bit more difficult.  

This makes poison great to use for dungeons and short-ranging exploration where the party is likely to face multiple encounters in one day. 

Diseases:  4e aced the design of these maladies by treating them as a contained skill challenge with their own CR  with various stages: stage 0: you were cured, stage 1: you suffered the initial effect, stage 2 or 3: you suffered a severe effect, with the final stage (3-4) being some effect that made the disease permanent.  When you got a disease it was usually stage 1, and you (usually) saved for it at the start of each day. Beating the DC by 5 or more meant you went down a stage (closer to 0), where as simply succeeding meant it stayed as bad as it was. Failing meant you got sicker, meaning a character could bounce up and down in wellness as an adventure went on. 

Diseases are best for longterm adventures, and often undermine one particular aspect of a character ( healing, actions assosiated with a particular stat).  Counterpoint to poisons, diseases should start out fairly gentle and then get worse the longer they’re left alone, leading to eventually devastating effects.  

Curses:  While borrowing the mechanics of diseases, I’d have curses be specifically weirder in their effects. The sort of thing that can make up the central hook or b-plot of a whole adventure.  This should also mean that curses are the hardest for the party to stumble into, but also the hardest to shake. 

Item Degradation: Detailed in a previous post HERE, the long and short of it is that item degradation is a form of player driven attrition that gently curbs their overall power level. If they go too hard, use their best items recklessly, get involved in needless fights, then they’re going to be in worse shape by the time they reach the final challenge. This was supposed be the idea behind HP/limited class abilities per day, but attrition systems cover that better IMO. 

Stress:  The psychological counterpoint to exhaustion,  I’ve already talked about Stress HERE. I tend to only use stress in horror themed adventures and campaigns, as it builds upon 5e’s optional “madness” system which fits the theme when gothic terrors and eldritch abominations but less so with the game’s usual heroic fare. 

Hunger & Supply:  I made a super lightweight system based off this idea of “depletion die” for potions and other consumables, check it out, it’s lightweight and fantastic.  Using this kind of system gives us another avenue to challenge our party, lengthening or shortening their lifeline as they lose supplies and seek out new caches. 

Thinking environmentally:  Part of the fantasy of being an adventurer is travelling to dangerous places and living to tell the tale.  We’re denying our party that fantasy if we don’t follow through on the threat the idea of these places imply.  You should risk sickness if you go into a swamp, sewer, or jungle, thirst should be a factor in desert exploration, just like freezing is for mountain and winter expeditions.  That’s to say nothing of magical hazards; cursed landscapes that drain your will to live dead marshes style, alchemical smog in a steampunk industrial zone, fading into nothingness as you approach the edge of existence.  

Figure out the natural hazards, make your party aware of the danger, and then build your adventure around the fact that they’ll need to save against the hazard each time they take a long rest.. Do they take a detour if it means having a safe place to camp? Is there a resource they need to manage along the way? Could encounters expose them to further dangers or make their current exposure worse? Keeping these ideas in mind especially when you’re planning a wilderness exploration adventure should give you lots of ideas to fill up those encounter tables. 

Adding insult to injury:  Giving enemies the ability to inflict attrition in various forms makes otherwise trivial  enemies a credible threat even to a seasoned adventuring party. As an example,  A party might breeze through a fight with some monstrous spiders ( or even ONE regular sized spider, if you can imagine) , but that spider encounter doesn’t need to be the most dangerous thing ever if their next encounter is a navigation challenge fording a river and a few of the heroes are still groggy thanks to the slow acting poison in their systems.  

In this way you can use attrition based battles to soften your party up for greater challenges, long after their HP totals and healing ability have outpaced the damage a single trap/encounter can do. 

Artist

[fruitcoops]

Hopelessly Devoted

O'Knutzy Week Prompt C2: "Hello, There". Prompts by @oknutzy-week-2024, and characters (of course) (with love) by @lumosinlove <3

TW for joking mentions of romance-novel smut

Leo had never seen someone work as hard as Finn O’Hara. He saw it in the straight line of Finn’s back and the solid set of his shoulders, even when he was calm. He saw it in everything he did—in love and, up until recently, in hockey. He was unequivocal dedication, embodied.

He was sure Finn would say the same about him; he was sweet like that, pretty face and prettier words that were always so honest they made Leo’s ribs hurt with the pounding of his heart. Finn liked to call him brave. Leo had started believing it after the last decade had proven it true in more ways than he cared to count.

And, Christ, Leo counted everything. Endless cycles of goals-assists-saves-loss-win-horror-victory that left him bolting upright at two o’clock in the morning well into his first season of retirement. Netminders kept perfect track of the game and every player coming at them. Remus’ mental playbook of every player in the NHL was only uncanny because he was out of the goal. Leo still remembered the tics and tells of most everyone he’d ever faced.

But what was there to count, now? Beautiful mornings? Those happened every day, though he hadn’t been awake for sunrise in three blessed years. Exotic vacations? He had a wonderful time on their honeymoon (all three of them), but he’d always prefer visiting one of their families.

The pan sizzled softly when he flipped the bagel with a practiced flick of the wrist. Leo smiled to himself. Maybe he should start counting Finn’s annual bacon-egg-and-cheese total. He’d probably come up with the same number if he bought a calendar and ticked the days by hand.

Finn’s commitment to his mid-morning snack was rivaled only by his unwavering passion for bodice-ripper novels, and the evidence of said passion filled their kitchen with a flurry of furious clicking while Leo slid the bagel carefully onto a plate.

See, Leo thought it was a joke, at first. A funny little prank Finn was playing on his new rookie roommate, tucking raunchy paperbacks into the bookshelf between Brontë and Dickens to make him blush. Har-dee-har-har, you got me, I’m such a prude.

Finn had not been joking.

And then it was endearing, like all the other Finn-isms of which he was so fond. It was just…such a silly hobby for an athlete—a former frat boy, no less!—to have in an environment like the NHL. It felt absurdly right that Finn, with his big smile and open heart, would unabashedly love books with oil-paint cover art of a lady fainting into the arms of a conveniently topless bodybuilder. Leo had tucked it into his heart and let it lie.

Finn retired.

Finn was utterly horrific at sitting still.

Finn started with Marie Adkins’ 1942 classic A Rogue for a Lady and ended with Eleanora Zimmerman’s yet-unpublished installment of Zoe Cross’ Cross-Continental Affairs: Volume III, officially clearing the romance collections of all three public libraries near them. His whoop of joy when Ms. Zimmerman answered his email inquiry with a PDF of her manuscript had startled Logan so bad he spilled coffee across the kitchen island and into his lap.

But reading—devouring—the books wasn’t enough. Finn’s systematic rip-through of every literary soap opera he could get his hands on came with an elaborate Goodreads account as well as a nightly debrief.

Leo fucking loved it. Listening to Finn parse out his opinions like an Ivy League lecturer quickly became the best part of his day, especially when the season wound down. It was permanence and consistency while his head whirled with thoughts of this one, just this one single last year and then I’ll really be done, this time for sure. Finn loved hockey like everything else: with no holds barred. He left it, and he was okay. More than okay—he was thriving.

But no hobby was without its faults.

So fucking stupid, Finn had muttered with a sharp shake of his head. I just can’t. It’s a disappointing plot and, worst of all, it’s poorly paced.

Leo and Logan had shared a look across their spaghetti. Finn could give no greater insult to books known for their overdramatic style than ‘poorly paced’.

Well, Logan had said, carefully, almost casually. We all know you’d write it better.

Damn right I would, was Finn’s forceful answer as he stabbed a noodle onto his fork.

Then do it.

Leo had to admit even now that he hadn’t expected that. Perhaps he should have, from Logan. There’s an issue? Solve it. His ‘no more running, no more bullshit’ oath when they were first starting latched into most things he did.

Finn had wavered about it for three days. Once (and only once) he nudged Leo awake at 7:30 in the morning, still sweaty from his run, to ask him if he thought publishing under his real name was a bad idea. He had been forced to mull that one over on his own when Leo banned him from post-shower, mid-coffee cuddles for the crime of dripping sweat onto his pillow.

Finn decided to start writing a book on a Thursday morning in the middle of March, bought a new notebook and a nice pen, and promptly didn’t write a word until his birthday in August.

I’m a failure, he had moaned into Leo’s chest, half-suffocated by the thick fabric of his hoodie. I’m so stupid.

No, baby, you’re not stupid, Leo had soothed. It was a little hard to breathe with the full weight of him splayed useless across Leo’s body, but that was nothing new.

I’ll never write a word. I’m cursed to keep reading forever and being mad about shitty romance with bad, boring characters. The 70s did it best.

Leo remembered sighing in sympathy. But they’re all straight.

But they’re all fucking straight! Finn had groaned. He didn’t move from his puddle of misery and writer’s block until Logan came home and knocked on the back of his head with a pack of pre-sharpened pencils and a cow-print composition book.

Goodreads reviews became graphite smudged on Finn’s hands and cheeks. Small spiral notebooks cropped up around the house, and eventually settled as Finn’s stalwart companions on his morning jogs. When the pencils wore down to nubs, he bought the crappiest pen Leo had ever seen in his life—when that ran dry, he bought another, and a third, and then all the notebooks grew into a teetering tower on Finn’s desk overnight.

A stapler followed, and red pens.

March rolled around again and the tapping of Finn’s laptop became a comforting ‘hello’ when Leo came home from practice. Finn didn’t talk about his book, but Leo didn’t mind. As long as Finn was happy, he could be patient, even if curiosity chewed at him day and night.

When do I get to read it? Leo had finally begged in the heat of June, turning over in bed four nights after his final NHL game. He was restless already and hardly sleeping. He needed something other than endings to occupy his mind.

Finn had smiled at him. The point of his nose pressed to Leo’s. I sent the manuscript out last week. The first copy is yours, Peanut.

Leo had kissed him for that most thoroughly.

“Hello, there.”

Leo smiled into a hidden freckle behind his ear and wrapped his arms around Finn’s chest, giving him a squeeze. “Hey.”

“This for me?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s head rested back on his shoulder. Leo took the weight happily. “But not really. Ugh, my eyes hurt.”

“Wear your glasses.”

“I wore them yesterday.”

“Didn’t realize they had a recharge time.”

“You know, plastic and glass can be really high-tech these days.”

Leo covered Finn’s eyes with one palm; his lashes fluttered and his chest shook with a laugh. “Glasses,” he insisted, dragging his hand up to Finn’s forehead to tilt his face all the way up and meet his gaze. “Keep this shit up and I’m not putting special sauce on your bagel sandwiches anymore.”

Finn’s soft doe eyes went bright. “What special sauce?”

Leo quirked a brow at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“C’mon, that’s not—”

“Glasses or I eat it and you never, ever get to try it.”

Finn gasped. “You’re starving me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Fucker.”

“You’re just mad yours never turn out as good as mine.”

“Poltergeist.”

“It’s because you don’t heat the pan enough.”

“I do!” Finn protested, sitting up and turning sideways in his chair to face him. “I did everything right when you showed me. It doesn’t taste right.”

Leo shrugged. “You’re cursed. Sucks to suck.”

Finn groaned and thumped his forehead against Leo’s collarbone. The hair at the back of his head was soft when Leo scratched through it; the muscles of Finn’s neck relaxed on a slow exhale.

“Same or new?”

“New,” Finn mumbled.

Leo hummed. For three weeks, he had been waiting for Finn to scatter his attention to the handful of ideas that had been left in the void. He refused to send books to his publisher until he could read them aloud to his captive audience of two without turning five shades of red and blowing a frustrated raspberry at the draft. Many had not yet passed that test. “From your list?”

“Nah.”

He nuzzled his nose into the top of Finn’s head. “ ‘S it about, then?”

“A prince.” Finn raised his head slightly. A kiss found the neckline of Leo’s shirt. “And a knight.” A second alit on his bicep, lingering long enough to feel his lips move. “And the sun.”

“That’s cheating,” Leo whispered through his smile. “You’re not supposed to write about us.”

“The New York Times bestseller list disagrees.” Finn lifted his head. His nose scrunched. Confidence rouged his cheeks, and Leo wasn’t a writer, but he’d pen poetry about that any time. “My self-imposed rules can wait. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Finn raised his eyebrows and leaned close like he had a secret. The plate with his cooling sandwich chimed at a tap from his pen. “It’s funny. Something tells me they’re gonna end up together in the end.”

Leo looked at him for a long moment, then darted a kiss to the bridge of Finn's nose. "Are you putting porn in it?"

"Are you going to let me eat my bacon-egg-and-cheese with the special sauce that you made because you love me so much and you think I'm so cute and sexy?"

"Yes."

"Sunshine, I will write all the porn you want."

"Hmm." Leo let his eyes drift to the laptop screen (just a little peek, a tiny one, not even a real spoiler) but Finn's hand lowered it before he could catch more than a glimpse. He made a disgruntled noise and straightened. Foiled again. "Wear your glasses and I'll make you one tomorrow, too."

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Toni Braxton - You're Makin' Me High 1996

Toni Michele Braxton is an American R&B singer, songwriter, actress and television personality. She has sold over 70 million records worldwide and is one of the best-selling female artists in history. Braxton has won seven Grammy Awards, nine Billboard Music Awards, seven American Music Awards, and numerous other accolades. In 2011, Braxton was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame. In 2017 she was honored with the Legend Award at the Soul Train Music Awards.

"You're Makin' Me High" is the lead single from her second studio album, Secrets (1996). The mid-tempo song represents a joint collaboration between the Grammy Award-winning producer Babyface and Bryce Wilson. The beat of the song was originally for singer-songwriter Brandy, with Dallas Austin pegged to write a lyric to override; however, Braxton had Babyface write lyrics for the song. It was ultimately issued in the US as a double A-side with "Let It Flow", the airplay hit from the 1995 film Waiting to Exhale.

"You're Makin' Me High" became Braxton's first number-one single on both the US Billboard Hot 100 and Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs charts; it remained on top for one week on the former and for two weeks on the latter, eventually going Platinum. A remix by David Morales with re-recorded vocals allowed the single to also top the Dance Club Songs chart for two weeks in August 1996.

The song earned Braxton her third Grammy Award for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance in 1997. The success of "You're Makin' Me High" would later be continued with the release of the smash hit "Un-Break My Heart", which peaked at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 for 11 consecutive weeks, while topping the charts in several other countries.

"You're Makin' Me High" was sampled for Method Man & Redman's 2001 song "Part II", from the How High soundtrack. In 2014, Anglo-American producer/DJ Secondcity sampled a part of the song's bridge for the main hook of his UK number-one single "I Wanna Feel".

The accompanying music video for "You're Makin' Me High", directed by Bille Woodruff, features Braxton and a group of friends consisting of actresses Erika Alexander, Vivica A. Fox, and Tisha Campbell-Martin.

"You're Makin' Me High" received a total of 60,2% yes votes!

[brother-emperors]

Plutarch, Crassus 7 (trans. Rex Warner)

caesar's in his mid 20s here, crassus is in his late 30s. early 40s. I did the math for their ages two days ago and didn't. uh. bother to write it down on account of being Very Tired. it's a 15 year age difference because their respective birth dates are easy numbers to remember, but if I have to add in another math step related to specific years events happened, I'm going to walk into a forest.

anyway! this comic was a certifiable creative nightmare on account of it was originally. going to be something goofy, it was supposed to end with crassus going (don draper voice) I don't think about you at all. but every time I tried to start over to get that ending, it would veer back into this territory. so after a full week of wrestling with it, I finally let the dramatics win. and you know what, having it cut off mid sentence is fun, actually!! might do it again sometime tbh

OH and that panel of crassus pouring caesar a drink is a callback to the first time I made a comic focusing on them

[whyse7vn]

BREAKING POINT -

[ ot7 x reader ]

this is like super short pls forgive me tan twitter tl for context

tan on twitter!!!

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: yoongi pls unblock me on twitter

yoongi: kill yourself

tae: i tried guys why doesn’t he love me 💔

y/n: that was a pathetic try

tae: guess what

y/n: what?

tae: ligma man..

y/n: ligma??

jimin: no way 😭

jk: baby…

namjoon: really

y/n: WHAT???

jin: i’m with her

wtf you guys on about??

hobi: this is a sad day

tae: LIGMA FUCKING BALLS BITCH

y/n: drown

jimin: ur fault tbh

hobi: real

y/n: leave me alone

jin: look you made her upset idiots

y/n: IM NOT UPSET

hobi: cheer up baby ❤️

namjoon: it’s okay tae upsets me all the time

y/n: im fine

hobi: bts song

jk: i know bts

tae: me 2

y/n: i want to stab you with a pencil

tae: watch out namjoon

namjoon: she is definitely talking to you

tae: proof?

hobi: bts?

jimin: i’m gonna bts outta you shut the fuck up

hobi: aw man :/

jk: bts?

jin: beat the shit

tae: beat MY shit

jk: woah

yoongi: he actually needs to kill himself wow

tae: @y/n u 2

y/n: LEAVE ME ALONE

jimin: she’s mad

y/n: I’M NOT MAD

jin: y/n are you still with that scoups guy?

namjoon: didn’t we just find out they we’re together like a week ago?

jk: WE DID????

jin: she moves on fast tho so idk

y/n: NO I DONT????

jimin: yoongi mingyu jk scoups mark wonho minho san all of us

there’s more hold on i’m thinking

hobi: all of us?

jk: say sike…

y/n: ARE YOU FUCKING SICK???????

jin: woah major slut alertttttt

namjoon: shut up

y/n: ONLY LIKE 4 OF THOSE NAMES ARE RIGHT

jk: what

y/n: AND IVE ONLY FUCKED 2 OF THEM SO KILL YOURSELF LEAVE ME ALONE

yoongi: she’s a grown woman

y/n: RIGHT

sorry i’m hot as fuck and pull bitches it’s not my fault

jin: u mid

y/n: ur 30

jin: ok please leave me alone i’m sorry

tae: my body count is also 2

jimin: -2

tae: ummmm?

jk: i’ve killed no one

i could of but don’t worry

namjoon: ??

hobi: fyi she did not deny being with scoups

jimin: TRUE

jk: NO

y/n: i deny it

jimin: too late we know

jin: SLUT

sorry

pls i’m sorry i didn’t mean it pls don’t be mean to me

please oh my god i’m sorry it slipped out

love u

please

y/n: THIS IS NOT FEMINISM

namjoon: it’s okay if ur with him

jk: NO ITS NOT STOP SAYING THAT WHATS UR FUCKING ISSUE STUPID STUPID STUPID

y/n: IM NOT

tae: who have you fucked

yoongi: are you stupid?

tae: no i’m curious

hobi: OH IM CURIOUS YEAH

wow i love shinee

y/n can you please start talking to minho again and then get married to him so i can be at his wedding and we can be forever connected

jk: SHUT UR MOUTH

y/n: you guys know so much about my relationship life it actually makes me want to throw up

jimin: ur easy to stalk

hobi: she’s fucked jk and yoongi

tae: and me

jin: in dreams doesn’t count

yoongi: lol

tae: LOL AWAY FROM ME YOU NASTY BITCH

U THINK UR WINNING BUT UR FUCKING NOT

WHEN ME AND Y/N GET MARRIED IT WILL BE ME KIM TAEHYUNG WHO LOLS IN UR FUCKING FACE

YOU RAT

yoongi: L

tae: no

yoongi: O

tae: YOU FUCKING STOP RIGJT NOW MIN YOONGI

yoongi: L

tae: 6pm seoul south korea apartment block C floor 7 door number 279 a ak47 a man a mask and a fucking dream

namjoon: wow ok that’s great!!

nice vogue shoot btw jungkook!

jk: I WILL NOT FUCK U GO AWAY

namjoon: oh my fucking god

hobi: scottish pride!!

jimin: ???

hobi: was he not wearing a kilt?

jimin: a what?

hobi: killing myself

jin: why they put you in that dirty ass bathroom omg?

tae: dirty shoot for a dirty man

jin: ?

tae: what?

jin: just a bit crazy coming from u

y/n: tae you need to shower

tae: you in love

ha

fucking bitch

jin: do you fuck her or fight her damn?

jimin: right he’s pissing me off

tae: can you leave me alone i’m going through a lot rn

jk: dick

tae: ??

jk: a lot of dick

yoongi: lmao

namjoon: he likes men?

hobi: ewwwwwwwwwwww

jimin: homophobia?????????

jk: yes so he’s going through them

cuz he does not like y/n

yoongi: you say this like every 2 weeks

jk: because it is true

y/n: thank god

jk: no thank men

hobi: thx men

jin: so it’s not jimin?

jimin: what??

tae: i’ve never touched another man let alone sleep with one

hobi: amen

y/n: now that is just not true

namjoon: who cares

tae: I DO

hobi: no one will ever say those words to you

jin: i will

tae: fr 🥲?

jin: LOL

tae: ok kys

and fuck that bitch y/n

yoongi: have

tae left “tan on twitter”

hobi: cuteness overload ^_^

y/n: what crawled up his ass today tf

jk: hi do you need me do you want me do you love me

namjoon: can we just talk about life or like

jin: let me guess trees?

jimin: weed?

jk: OH MY GOD NAMJOON WANTS TO TALK ABOUT WEED

hobi: life is a downward spiral noting matters we are all slowly dying the government hates us money is worthless drugs are all around our water is running out

jk: where is it running out of

let’s catch it

y/n: tae was being super weird right?

hobi: super shy

namjoom: what’s new

hobi: new hair

namjoon: stop

hobi: forgive me master

namjoon: i’m at my breaking point

jimin: breaking bad

jin: drugs?

jimin: it all links back to namjoon…

jk: omgggggg namjoon is this true……..

namjoon: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

—-

pls lmk if you like the twitter concept idk if i’m feeling her yet but if you guys are i will do more idk trying to be different 🙈

[anthonyhurd]

Now available!

Pull Me Close (pictured above) is now on sale as a timed edition print for two weeks.

Sale ends at 10am May 4th. Edition size will be determined by how many orders were made. Each will be 16x20” with a 14x18” printed area and a 1” white boarder all around. Each will be signed and numbered.

At the end of the release one lucky print purchaser will be announced as the winner of the original painting. All you have to do to enter the raffle is purchase this print. The purchase of other prints doesn’t enter you into this raffle but multiple purchases of this print give you multiple chances at winning the raffle.

Please note, nothing will be printed or shipped until after the raffle winner is announced on May 4th. So it will be mid May before everything ships out.

I’ll be donating 50% of the profits of the print sales to the HIV Glow Out NM 2024 event happening May 4th.

UNM Truman Health Services is partnering with Common Bond and Albuquerque Pride to bring you a glow-tastic event! The event will highlight glowing games, a dance-off, a costume contest, a fun and inclusive walk, prizes, and lots of fun! Funds raised will primarily benefit the Common Bond HIV Emergency Project. Since 1988, the Emergency Project has helped prevent homelessness for low-income New Mexicans living with HIV/AIDS. Some funds will also benefit the Truman Health Services-Bruce Williams Community Fund. This fund helps UNM Truman Health Services provide necessities to patients thriving with HIV.

[carionto]

Predator mode

Big Thrasher was not a happy camper after his first encounter with Humanity. There is a certain exponential curve to simple ballistic weapons, whereas shields, which start off way above, progress on a geometric line. E in = E out (mostly, some charge is lost in conversion) vs E=MC^2. He learned that the hard way when three of his toughest cruisers were reduced to space dust by, as he later learned to his horror, a mid-sized transport ship using Human standard issue rail cannons.

Someone smart would move on and avoid Humanity. Big Thrasher isn't a complete idiot, but he is a prideful and narcissistic pirate captain. Thus his ability to make sensible decisions is handicapped severely. Now he has made a most dubious one indeed:

Infiltrate a Human science station and steal all their secrets and use them to get sweet, juicy, delicious revenge!

Finding one was disturbingly easy, there's so many of them. Like, at least one for each star system within eighty light years from Sol, one for each planet within thirty, and then it just gets ridiculous within Sol itself. Oddly enough, despite their size, typically there are no more than ten people aboard, almost all Human, only a few are joint Coalition.

Thinking long and hard (something Big Thrasher is not a fan of) he decided on his target - a lone station on the very outskirts of publicly known Human activity and furthest away from any major Coalition systems.

When his reconstructed fleet arrived behind the local gas giant, the station was sitting in mid orbit of the inner rock planet and was broadcasting something strange on open channels - a melodic chant of sorts:

"..live on a Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submari.."

whatever that meant. No matter, Big Thrasher's fleet was moving in on the target, stealth drives on, weapons ready, numbers on their side, element of surprise - the perfect ambush.

...

Where did the station go?

Before Big Thrasher could register neural activity to try and answer that, it appeared. Behind them. And a small explosion happened moments earlier where it used to be, but the main concern was the station firing its stabilizer thrusters to rotate it at incredible speeds, then a long blade slicing one of his ships in two. Then it disappeared again. And another small explosion.

Once more, it suddenly reappeared behind another one of his ships and did the same thing, but this time used its thrusters to quickly move towards the vessel and impale it on a massive spike. Disappear. Small explosion in its place.

Three. Four. Five. They're losing ships by the second. A literal space station sized target and they can't keep track of it, let alone land a single hit. How is it teleporting? What are those explosions?

WHY IS A SPACE STATION ENGAGING HIS PIRATE SPACE SHIP FLEET IN MELEE COMBAT!

WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!

WHY IS IT WINNING!?!??!

Big Thrasher once again order an emergency retreat, what remained of his fleet scattered to randomly selected quick hyperjump coordinates, and would regroup in a few weeks time.

_______________________

Aboard the experimental development station Tree of Grating Whispers the crew of seven were hastily putting out fires and trying not to throw up from all the gee forces they just endured, kinetic dampeners be damned.

A few hours later, all in their environmental suits, as the life support system was dead, they convened for an after-action report:

"Right, so, good news and bad news. Good news - short range teleporter works perfectly. Bad news - each unit doesn't teleport with us and just explodes, further data has been unrecoverable so far.

Good news - rapid action thruster and kinetic combat mode works. Bad news - can't have biologicals onboard and even moderately durable systems break after a few swings.

Overall, I'd say this has been a success (unanimous nodding). Let's get to working out the kinks and we'll have a presentable version for the military. We'll also have to thank those pirates for not masking their engine heat trails, this was a great field trial guys, real proud of everyone!"

The chief says, while high on painkillers (and so is the rest of the crew), as another part of the station self-immolates.

[hakkasm]

↑You can read all the pages from the link above!

[Comic] Mafia Sitter

I started writing in mid-January to submit to the Global Comic Award 2024 and finally completed it. Continuing from there is a long feedback.

The working time is two months for the main text and two weeks for the cover. Around January 11th, I received a DM from a friend saying, "There's a contest like this," and thought, "The deadline is the end of March... it's impossible for me (I've never drawn a completed comic before)." But it's a comic contest aimed at the world... My art style is only recognized in this contest... I couldn't ignore this contest. I was in the middle of making another piece, but I interrupted it, and I was full of anxiety about whether I could draw a comic in just two and a half months. However, the thought, "Instead of worrying, I should act quickly," came to my mind, and I started writing from January 13th, changing my mindset.

I spent 1 day on the script, plus 1 day typing the dialogue, and started the "completed 1 page per day" lifestyle from January 16th.

The goal was to complete 45 pages, but at the plotting stage, it was about 56 pages. When I actually started drawing the manuscript, the planned page allocation didn't match, and the total number of pages increased to 65. (I learned the importance of page allocation.) At a pace of 1 page per day, I wondered if I would make it by March... (I'm easily bored, I didn't think I could do 1 page per day.) So, I rearranged my schedule to make 3 pages on weekends, which would give me some leeway. This idea turned out to be a big success.

As a result, I achieved 1 page per day and was able to finish drawing all the pages by early March, leaving the remaining time to work on the cover, which is like the face of the comic.

Since I work as a company employee, I had to finish work by 8:00 p.m. to make time for the manuscript, which was a daily pressure. There were times when I finished the manuscript at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on weekdays. I fell ill. At that time, I felt like giving up. (On the day I fell ill, I slept for about two hours and resumed manuscript production after my condition improved a bit.)

It was truly a life of "pushing myself to the limit", but accomplishing it gave me confidence. 'Oh, I can make a 65-page full-color comic in 2 months.' It became an advantage for me. (I don't want to push myself like this anymore, though... haha.)

Thank you for participating in the survey for the title logo! The survey results leaned towards the left logo. While the left logo was packed with concept, its font style and thickness varied, resulting in imbalance when aligned in a row and making it difficult to use in monochrome. If the left logo had overwhelmingly won the votes, I would have chosen it. However, since the right logo also received a considerable number of votes, I decided to adopt the right logo.

Now all that's left is to see the results on Global Comic Award. I'm really aiming to win. Both the script and the art are amateur-level when viewed separately, but I balanced them out to make them good enough.

It's my first comic work... I really want a lot of people to read it! *If enough people like the comic and want to get a copy of the comic book, I can make and sell it:)