Occupation: Lieutenant Commander, U.S. Navy -- U.S. Naval Aviator
Neighborhood: Ridgeview Heights
Time in Blackstone Ridge: Newly arrived, July 2025
「 the introduction 」
The Navy’s "favorite" middle child and a career officer who’s spent most of his life trying to measure up without ever letting it show. (Think if Hangman from Top Gun: Maverick had more humility and a permanent tension headache.)
Did everything right growing up—good grades, leadership roles, ROTC scholarships—but still somehow always wound up second-best to one of his siblings. Usually Mickey.
He’s the kind of guy who’ll show up early, do the hard job, and never ask for credit. Not because he’s humble (he’s not…not really), but because being dependable has always been his way of surviving the noise.
Got promoted to Lieutenant Commander a few years back, and yeah, he’s proud of it—but he’ll downplay it unless you’re his dad.
Recently stationed at the same base as Mickey for the first time in years. Has mixed feelings about it.
New to Blackstone Ridge and definitely still figuring it out—he says he’s here to “lay low,” but honestly? He’s not sure what comes next.
⸻
「 it’s not pressure if you don’t look at it 」
Matt’s the type who’s emotionally available in theory, but hard to read in practice—he’ll ask how your day was, but you’ll notice he never answers that question himself.
Calls his sister la ratoncita out of habit, even if she rolls her eyes every time.
Tells himself he’s nothing like his father but shares more of his silence, ambition, and tunnel vision than he’s ready to admit.
He’s had a few serious relationships and more than a few almosts, but none of them stuck. Most people would call him a great guy. Not many have gotten past the surface long enough to know for sure.
Loves to dance (quietly, competently, never the center of attention), and has a soft spot for women who challenge him without starting a fight.
Drinks his coffee black, keeps his car immaculate, and irons his t-shirts even on leave. The man is disciplined. Also, perpetually exhausted.
Don’t mistake his patience for passivity—Matt may hold his tongue, but once he’s done with someone, they don’t get a second chance.
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"Thankfully, he strikes me as the type to save romantic gestures like that for his actual partner, and you're not exactly his type," she teased back, not able to even picture Aslan pulling a boombox moment from Say Anything. "But hey, if that changes and he shocks us both, then you totally get to say 'I told you so' and I won't even punch you for it."
When Matt mentioned her previous dating history, Mickey laughed out loud, her head falling back. "Matt, this is the first guy I've wanted to introduce to the family. Everyone else before was some kind of joke, a test to see how ridiculous I could find someone to be." Mickey shuddered at the thought of that specific man, remembering just how horrified her mother had looked. Her father, meanwhile, had simply stared at the man. It had pissed Mickey off, actually, because she'd wanted a reaction—any reaction that involved her father speaking to her, admitting he cared about the men she spent her time with because he cared about her. Instead, she'd gotten a call the next day asking if that man was someone she truly thought her family should be associated with. It had always been like that, though, and she'd told herself she didn't care anymore.
"I know mom and dad will love him, because honestly, how can anyone not respect Aslan? But truthfully, Matty? I don't care if they find some fault in him. He could be at the bottom of their list—and trust me, he won't be, I know dad too well to expect him to find fault with a special forces sniper of Aslan's caliber—but I'd choose him every single time." She reached for the door handle to the diner's front door, pausing after opening it and smiling thoughtfully toward the ground. "He's the first guy I've ever met who makes me think differently about it all, like it's not some game where I'm trying to bring home the most obnoxious date I can get my hands on. I actually want to be on his arm or holding his hand, and I'm proud to be the woman by his side. I don't think I've ever been proud to be connected to anyone outside of our family like I am with him."
Matt snorted. "Fine, fair enough." But unbeknownst to Mickey, they'd had a pretty striking conversation. While Matt usually could file things like that away with ease depending on the person, something told him that Aslan was a worthwhile friend. There weren't many people he could say he wholeheartedly trusted, so for the circle to expand even a slight amount was kind of a big deal. He listened to Mickey, and was struck by how open she was. Open about caring for someone the way she did for Aslan, and then simultaneously not giving a single fuck what anyone else thought. It was admirable.
He let out a low whistle, nodding at his sister. "Okay. Message received." His eyes softened, just for a beat. "You really do deserve happiness, Mick. I--" I wish I'd been brave enough to go after my own happiness. The words died on the tip of his tongue, and he sort of laughed softly. At this point it was just easier to bury his own feelings down. No way could he share with her what went down with Carmen. It wasn't that she wouldn't understand. Matt felt like she was probably one of the few who actually would, in some strange way. But his goal was never to seek out pity. "I don't know, I think I've already said that same thing, with five different variations. You get the picture. Sorry."
He stepped into the diner, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the thought of their dad. It was probably all in his head, but he never quite felt like he could do anything right. It had all started basically from the moment Matt had choked as a kid and Mickey had taken over. He was struggling to not be the person who let certain moments define him. That was kind of hard, though, when it always came up somehow during family dinner. Their mom, bless her, always tried to protect him from that--but as much as Matt felt like he was constantly being punished, half of that came from his own self loathing, buried deep under years of regret and inadequacy. Clearing his throat, Matt glanced at his sister, desperately shaking the inner monologue out of his brain so he could fully be present. "Now, the real question is....pancakes, waffles, or French toast?"
Caroline went for her daily cappuccino fix when she saw Matt sitting in a nearby booth. She decided to approach him, and offer him her usual friendly smile. "Hey! Fancy seeing you here." She said. "How are things going?" She wanted to know how things were going with him and Mickey, something about what he shared about their sibling dynamic really had her rooting for them to work it all out. She could ask Mickey, of course, but she wanted to hear Matt's side.
Matt looked up, fingers tapping against his to go cup of coffee. Usually, he was a basic coffee with cream and two sugars kinda guy, but today for some reason he'd opted for a little bit of pumpkin flavoring. It was warm for October, but he could pretend otherwise. "Hey, Caroline. Good to see you. Wanna sit?" He gestured to the spot opposite him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Things are good. Can't complain. We replaced the lightbulb that at one point I was convinced would put a hex on me if I blinked wrong, so safe to say we're not cursed. I think my newest problem--if you can call it that-- is being a fifth wheel to Mick and her guy and Javi and the girl he's sweet on. So, you know, just another day." He took a sip of his coffee. "How 'bout you?”
"I only assumed. Movies show that at least, which unsure how accurate that is. But, anyway, there has to be a cure for the loneliness. At least, maybe something like a stress relief. So, why do you put yourself down like that? Aren't you taught not to measure against the others? Even family? Can assume if you sucked then you wouldn't be part of it."
"Ah, the keyword there being movies. I'll give credit where credit is due--some directors really do their research." Matt blinked at Eli's question, scrunching his nose like he'd been caught. "Okay, you know what--fair point. But it's honestly because we were all pitted against eachother. Maybe sometimes it wasn't, like, intentional. But it happened. We were conditioned." He snorted and shook his head. "It's sad, but the only thing I'll ever truly know is how I rank up against the rest of my siblings. I can't even compare myself to my youngest sister, because she's nowhere near the officer lifestyle. Too good for that crap. You know what I mean?"
Caroline frowned at Matt's explanation of his relationship with his sister, it sounded kind of sad. She hoped that if she ever lucky enough to give Oliver siblings - have that big family she dreams of - that they just simply loved each other. But it was nice to see the man committed to repairing that relationship. "Oh no, I'm an only child."
"I see." Matt nodded, not blind to the frown on Caroline's face. He wasn't gonna sugarcoat anything--he tried that before, and it hadn't exactly gone well for him. "I've wished that on myself maybe once or twice, but it's nice to have the groupchat buzzing, even when the day ends with a joke at my expense." He smiled goodnaturedly despite that comment. He felt a little awkward talking about himself. He gave both Caroline and her son another once over, subtly checking around in case anyone else decided to barrel into their path. "I do believe that was the worst of the traffic jam." He quipped.
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Starter For: @mattymaddox
Location: Local Department Store
This was stupid. Tae didn't know why he was here, really. There were better suit shops in the area and Spencer wouldn't have cared if Tae showed up in flip-flops and cargo shorts (okay, maybe that last part was a lie), but Tae happened to have some free time between his meetings, one of which was happening at the client's office across the street. There were nicer suit places, actual tailors in town, but curiosity had got the best of him. "Excuse me!" He stuck his hand out, a little awkward as he made his way to the elevator, just catching it with his arm before the doors closed. "Oops, hi, sorry." He flashed the other man inside a small nod. "Menswear, fourth floor, is that okay?" he asked, reaching out to push the button. Why did he always do that? Practically ask for permission to simply exist? What was the guy going to do, kick him out and tell him to walk? "I mean, which floor would you like?" he corrected.
Matt wasn't sure how he ended up at a department store on a random weekday, but he had a sneaking suspicion it probably had a thing or two to do with something his father said. The other night, Matt had made the near fatal mistake of asking his dad for approval, and would the same suit he'd had for three years be good to wear to whatever upcoming family shindig they had to endure? The response came in a passive aggressive comment that Matt couldn't have kicked if he tried. He'd have had better luck asking Javi for help. He reached out and also guided the elevator open, giving the stranger a small smile. "That's exactly where I was headed, actually. I almost got lost trying to find this freakin' elevator." He rolled his eyes as if to poke fun at himself, stepping fully into the elevator and leaning against the wall. He fell silent, observing the other male for a long moment. "You okay? I'm not gonna, like, swallow you whole or something dumb like that."
"I'm going to have to say hello to her after this." She said, briefly looking around the carnival to see if she could see Mickey. "Are you two close?" She asked, mostly out of curiosity. Learning about people was always nice.
Matt breathed out a laugh, scrunching his nose. "Well, like. Yes. But it's complicated. Aren't most, if not all, sibling relationships complicated?" He chewed on the inside of his lower lip for a moment. "Typical sibling rivalry, our dad instilled this heavy competition in us and that kinda ruined....well, a lot of things. That's just my side of things, but I don't really have the right to speak on Mickey's behalf. I'd be lying if I said the reparation of our relationship wasn't at least part of the reason for being here. But it just worked out like that." He nodded at her. "You got any siblings?"
"God, no. It's never easy. Kind of makes me wonder how in the hell the older gen did it. But, we try our best, and that's all that matters." He hummed, somewhat agreeing with Matt. He took a sip of his drink, which now had the honey stuck at the top. He made a face and coughed into his elbow. "Don't you hate that, let things settle at the top and then end up nearly inhaling the honey up your nose." Laughing, he shook his head. "So, indulge me in this tea. Military really all that it's cracked up to be?"
"Good attitude to have." Matt watched as Eli took a sip of his drink, letting out a low rumble of a laugh. "If you get me to do the freakin' Heimlich 'cause you choked on that, you know we'll both never hear the end of it." He thought for a moment, not entirely sure how to answer Eli's question. "Well, it's rewarding for one. But I think what some people don't mention is how lonely it gets sometimes." Prime example of that being Carmen--a person Matt rarely told stories about, but maybe eventually. "It was kind of already set in stone for me. I'm not nearly as great as my brothers and Mick, though. I will say, the comparisons really only stop and end at my dad's mouth, so I guess I should be grateful. But yeah. It's cool. What about you and your...baking, right? Gotta be pretty rewarding watching everything come to fruition."
"Totally not gonna be ashamed to admit it but yes. Izzie is addicted to that one and also that other classic date my parents show that aired in early 2000s. They don't make them like they used to, I'll tell you that much." Max said it with a bit of melancholic nostalgia for the good vh1 and MTV tv phase. "I never pegged you for a raspberries type of guy. Is that your favorite fruit?"
"Date my parents...huh. Been a minute since I thought about that one." Matt snickered and shook his head. Truly, the early 2000s had been quite a time. "Nah, it's usually strawberries. But strawberry ice cream? Forget that." Matt relaxed a little more. "You didn't? I'm afraid to ask what kind you thought I went after, and please for the love of god do not say durian."
“It looks like a fucking flour bomb went off in here,” Javi surveyed, eyes widening as he took in the destruction around them for the first time since they’d set to work. How did people make cooking look so easy? Or leave the kitchen in pristine shape whenever they were done? It had to be some sort of fucking sorcery. Looking over at Matt and the flour in his hair, Javi snorted a laugh, “We get left alone for five minutes and end up in the shit trenches. How, my guy– how?” It was a damn good job that Mickey wasn’t just out of the house right now, but out of the country with Aslan; she never needed to see, hear, or know about the disaster zone they’d turned her kitchen into. “Nah, I think it’s gonna be great,” Javi assured him, patting a flour-clad hand on his shoulder and leaving a white imprint of his palm behind on Matt’s shirt, “Memorable, if nothing else.”
"It's shameful, I know. But--look, I didn't burn the fillings! So that's something, right?" Matt pointed again to the saucepans, and tried in vain to scroll back onto his phone. His fingers were coated in too much of...well, everything...to unlock the phone again. Defeated, Matt sauntered over to the kitchen sink, running his dirty hands under the water before fixing Javi with a thoughtful glance. "Honestly at this point I feel like maybe we should just retrace all the steps backward. Probably find the vacuum, too. Flour makes nooks and crannies appear that I wouldn't have even thought existed." He pointed to the limp dough on the countertop, reaching out to poke at it slightly. "Something's missing. But what the hell could it be? You know that me calling my mom right now would basically be like admitting defeat?" Even so, Matt would jump at any chance to call her--they had a special relationship, always had. Sometimes it felt like she was doing triple the work to make sure he felt heard and understood.
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"Not to sound too cliche but I honestly thought some sort of mob boss. I think that's just my brain being tapped into the latest docuseries I'm making my sister watch with me." That made him laugh as he thought to how shouting didn't make people look smarter. It had the opposite effect. "It is a shame that we won't get that show. I mean, mom showing up in town again after more than a decade away would be the biggest plot twist. There's a butterscotch version? Also, go back to the chocolate version because that one is insane."
"A mob boss." Matt repeated, snickering quietly. "That's funny. You ever see that show on, I think VH1? Mob Wives? Talk about hardcore." He listened to Max, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, though, huh? And yes, there definitely is a chocolate version. Chocolate cake and chocolate milk. Ten times better than the original. Especially with little raspberries. It's usually my go-to birthday cake choice."
Eli laughed a little more forcefully than necessary. "Her reputation does indeed follow her." He was tickled by that, and he knew that she'd find it funny after she gave birth to their son. "You may be the wildcard, though. You'd catch her on a good day, imagine? That'd be funny. I'll make my other cousin make them. He's the resident tamalero of the family. You'd think Isaac would be, but he got the likes to consume food, not make it gene." It seemed like Matt was well versed in Barbie. "See, it's that empowerment shit that should fly in those barracks. Sounds like ya'll afraid of Barbie's power." He pointed his finger at him as he nodded. "Sisters and wives. Though I love both dearly. Actually, middle sisters are the bossiest. That one is a fact. Baby sisters are the more chill ones. Less responsibility and whatnot." Baseball made his eyes glisten. "Baseball, huh? Do you play in a casual sense?" The laugh that ripped through him was one between amused and surprised. "Yeah. I know it may sound weird because I'm the second born, and typically, the oldest carries a shit ton of responsibility, but for me, it is carrying on the legacy of my Nana's bakery. If she was alive now, she'd say don't fucking worry too much. But, it's a heavy thing to carry. Realistically, she'd be more inclined to shut it down if it caused more stress than happiness, but I still can't help but trip when I review the sales at the end of the year and overthink if I'm doing enough for the team. I worry about the ones on the team that count on that paycheck each week just to live, you know. I want to make sure they're all taken care of."
Matt nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I love it. Not always for the glory--I like the rhythm and focus. Kinda forget about the white noise, ya know?" He shook his head, brushing a hand over his face. "Life definitely has a funny way of changing plans, for sure, but it helps keep shit in perspective. At least for me." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, eyes tracing it for a moment before turning back to Eli. "Sounds like you're carrying a lot. I respect that. I guess maybe we both know what it's like to juggle the weight of people who count on us and still try to do it without letting it eat at us. Not always easy, is it?" He offered a gentle smile. "Makes the wins worth it."
Hearing Matt talk about his sister, Kit could tell Mickey was a badass. Aslan had said as much, sure, but it clearly meant something bigger coming from her own brother. After all, to outrank an older sibling must mean she had earned it, right? Kit didn't know much about ranks or military life, but he figured it was similar to a ranch in that the hierarchy had a lot to do with skill and experience. "So she could kick Aslan's ass, if she needed to. I thought he seemed a little hesitant when I asked him, but I think that's cause he knows she could." Kit was teasing, mostly, but he couldn't think of a way to lighten the mood anymore than that.
"No shit? My uncle Tito told me watermelon seeds would grow a watermelon in my belly if I swallowed 'em, then the next time we were out at the store, he pointed to a pregnant woman and told me she'd swallowed watermelon seeds." Kit laughed, remembering the way his mom and dad had howled with laughter when he relayed the story to them that night. Tito had always been one of his dad's best friends, and he'd quickly become one of Kit's, too. "Nah, you don't have to thank me," Kit said with a shrug, glancing at the crowd around them. "Honestly, it's not so bad once you figure out the flow. See, these people here are headed toward the food tents, so you want to either get real close to the inside lane to get there faster, or stick closer to the outside if you're plannin' on bailin' before you get there. If you want another drink, this line over here is headed toward the alcohol, and you'll want to stick close to the right-hand side, it moves faster. I think that's the stronger side for the beverage slingers, kinda like how at the Barrel, you want to stick close to the side furthest from Benny's office. It's always got a shorter line, and it moves faster, because usually he's standin' down there slingin' drinks himself." Kit shrugged, finally landing his gaze back on Matt. "You stick around this town long enough, you'll figure out all the secrets, too."
"Mmmhmm, yeah. She probably could." Matt smirked. "Well, hell. Let him figure that out on his own, I guess? Because God help whoever scorns her. I think we all walk around like we have something to prove, even and especially when we don't truly." It was nearly impossible to feel like the chosen one in the Maddox household, not without doing the most perfect thing. Not without showing up all your siblings. Matt still felt a lump in his throat from time to time when he reminisced on the guilt he felt for taking the credit for something Mickey had done. Truthfully, it was one of the reasons he'd grown to loathe group projects. "My parents set the bar pretty high. You could say most of the stress we put on ourselves is self-inflicted."
He tilted his head, watching Kit carefully. "You've got a sharp eye, I'll tell ya that much. If you wanna get on Mickey's good side, don't let her win. I'm guilty of doin' it in the past, but I think....for us, for all my siblings, it really helped when we earned something not just because of our name." He nodded slowly, offering a genuine smile. "I think I'll be in it for the long haul. Or at least until my next assignment, whenever that is. I like what I see so far. And I haven't met a complete dick--except for just bein' in line not too long ago. Someone blew right past me and a mom with her kid. Like, I get that slow walkers are universally hated, but what about the human tornadoes? They're just as bad, no?"
"Mickey Maddox?" Caroline asked, when Matt asked if she knew a Mickey and a Javi. She wanted to confirm that he was talking about the Mickey that immediately came to her mind. "The festival can get pretty chaotic, but not the town itself."
"Yeah." Matt nodded, blowing out a deep breath. He wasn't too riddled with anxiety, but sometimes big crowds made him feel a little suffocated. It was a good thing pretending was his favorite skill set. "I'm sure she's around somewhere, or maybe not. I don't really know what she's into these days."
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"Reckon that's just family in general, right?" Benny shrugged nonchalantly, not one to really get too wrapped up in discussing the business and behaviors of others for too long. Plus, he'd learned his lesson with Aslan: telling people how he felt about Mickey didn't always end super well for him. If she was going to be around, he figured he'd better stop complaining about her sooner rather than later. "I don't dance around shit, kid, you'll learn that real fast. No point in all that, I'm not afraid to speak my mind one bit. Niceties are just a waste of time."
"Mm, yeah. You're probably right." Matt smiled and shrugged, taking another sip of beer. At Benny calling him 'kid,' Matt's eyebrow arched. "Huh. I haven't been called that in a while. Not by my parents, nor my older brothers, and certainly not my commanding officer. That a compliment or...somethin' else?" Either way, he smirked to himself. "That said, I appreciate that about you. World could use a lil' more of that."
"You must have me confused with your other sister," she teased, giving him her best attempt at a straight face, "I do not pry, Matthew." She could barely hold it in much longer than that, a smirk breaking across her lips. "I just didn't want to pester him asking what you said and how you said it so I'd know how you feel, you know? I mean, he was clearly a fan of you, so I figured that was a good enough sign for now." Mickey sipped her coffee, nodding at what Matt had to say in regards to Aslan. It was strange how much she wanted her brother to like her boyfriend, but she did. "You two have a lot in common," she added with a sideways glance at Matt, wondering just how much they'd talked about deeper things.
Once Matt caught back up with her, Mickey laughed softly at Matt's threatening of Aslan. It was very clear to her that Matt thought it was necessary to be the protective big brother, but Mickey was just as likely to kick Aslan's ass herself if it came down to it. Granted, nobody could do much against the man if he set his mind to something, but he'd never use that against her. "Yeah, he's not afraid of much, that's for sure." She smiled over at Matt when he nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did. "Yeah? Well, that's a good sign, I suppose. Just don't go getting too used spending time with him by yourself, he's my boyfriend, after all. You go find your own." She stuck her tongue out before rounding the corner and spotting the entrance to the diner. "He really is the best, Matty. I've never met anyone who makes me feel like I'm the most important person in his world, and before Aslan, I wasn't even sure if I'd want to find that. Now I don't know if I can live without it."
Matt could only nod at Mickey's observation, falling into silence for a moment. He struggled with letting people in and letting anyone get too close--he'd learned his lesson with Carmen, after all, which was really the great thing about the military and the constant moving. "He's on my nice list until he rolls up with a boombox blaring Don't Stop Believin.' Then I might have second thoughts. " His mouth quirked up ever so slightly at the memory from his and Aslan's conversation. It was strange, going through most of his life and feeling like such an outsider. Then, moving to this town, trying to find his footing and settle in and landing almost immediately on what felt like it could be solid ground for once in his life.
His gaze landed on the diner just after hers did, and Matt turned to look at his sister. Really look at her. "I think you should take it as a compliment that this is the first guy you've dated that I actually want to be associated with. Remember the guy who flossed at the table with one of his beard hairs? I thought Dad was gonna have an aneurysm right there." He pretended to gag at the mere memory of that one marker on the list of guys Mickey had brought in seemingly to piss their parents off. How with Aslan, this would be a good step in the right direction, and maybe--just maybe--Maxwell Maddox, Sr, would lay off. "But no, I don't want all the gory details even if I slip up and accidentally half-ask. But it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be his friend." Matt nudged his sister's shoulder. "I wouldn't be all up in your business. I'm an adult, thank you." He stuck his tongue out right back at her, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I think..." He swallowed the lump in his throat, memories of his own almost-love quickly swimming into his brain. What would he have wanted someone to tell him, if he had moved forward and pursed what he could've had? "I think if you have something that real, don't let it go. Okay? It's yours. The rest is no one's business."