#. | away at sea (phoenix)

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

���I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[sometimesanalice]

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss. 

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”  

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.  

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier. 

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together?  You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day.  I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[this-blog-needs-a-name]

One Piece Fic Recs

This is a list of incredible One Piece fanfics I have read either on Tumblr or Ao3 the majority of which are character x reader/oc.

📝 Ongoing/Unfinished

Long Works (>25,000 words)

It Comes in Waves by analogwriting Trafalgar Law x f!reader (71k)

The Bird & The Mermaid (Trafalgar Law x F!Reader) by BlackOrchid1004 (40k)

Small Changes by SweetScentences Platonic Law and Corazon fix it (37k)

The Daughter's Return by @cozage Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (126k)

Birds of a Feather by flyingfishgirl Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (74k)

Inked on Skin by Archaeological / @tackyink Trafalgar Law x OFC (385k)

📝 Home of the Sun by Nahella Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (167k)

📝 Free (Trafalgar Law/Reader) by ElenaMoon (153k)

📝 Throne by teroinreadsteroinwrites Shanks x OFC (41k)

📝 This is Us by Anonymous Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (90k)

📝 Card-Sharp by VintagexTypewriter Shanks x OFC (90k)

📝 Home Is Where the Hearts Are by brouhahas Trafalgar Law x f!reader (37k)

📝 Rare Whales, Shining Seas, and the One That Dreams of Them by NunTheWiser Platonic Whitebeard Pirates, Platonic Heart Pirates x OFC (339k)

📝 Bound by Silver by ToastedMilkBar Corazon x f!reader (46k)

📝 Immune To Your Charms by @grandline-fics Donquixote Doflamingo x f!reader (26k)

📝 Chaos in Their Bones by @eureka-its-zico OPLA Zoro x f!reader (148k)

📝 Determination! by @thesharktanksdriver Platonic multiple characters/crews x child!reader (69k)

Puzzled by @mynewblackdress OPLA Sanji x f!reader (35k)

Medium Works (10,000-24,999 words)

Epiphytism by Jarchetype Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (23k)

Little Blue Bird by MidNightWriter42 Marco the Phoenix x f!reader (12k)

📝 Affiliation by maybeitsdee Portgas D. Ace x f!reader (23k)

📝 The Beast and the Mouse by @simpleeindulge Eustass Kid x f!reader (12k)

📝 Little Game by @gingernut1314 Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (16k)

the blade daughter by @halfvalid OPLA Zoro x f!reader, Dracule Mihawk x daughter!reader (24k)

You Should Be Sad by @fanaticsnail Dracule Mihawk x f!reader (14k)

put my name at the top of your list by @ladadiida Sanji x f!reader (12k)

Through Shadow by @gingernut1314 OPLA Sanji x f!reader (10k)

Your Highness by @nanawritesit OPLA Sanji x f!reader (13k)

Come Sail Away by @sassenach-on-the-rocks OPLA Sanji x f!reader, OPLA Zoro x sister!reader (15k)

📝 Stowaway by @spitfire-of-the-sea Platonic Whitebeard Pirates x f!reader (10k)

[writing-until-i-drop]

Breeding Kink | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 1,008

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! Oral (fem receiving), unprotect p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, mentions of pilot death, lmk if I missed anything

a/n: this isn't the story I thought I'd write but it's what came out when I put my fingers to the keyboard???

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Bradley had been back from deployment for two days, having spent that time sleeping and eating as much of your cooking as possible. This deployment had been rough, he had been sent out on a sixth month mission that had taken a year to complete with only intermittent communication home, and one of the other pilots had burned in around the eight month point, something your husband was having a hard time recovering from. 

The two of you were laying in bed, Bradley’s head on your chest, his calloused hand resting on your stomach. You lazily carded your fingers through his hair, which had grown longer while he was at sea, texting with Phoenix about plans for brunch that weekend. Bradley started to rub wide circles over your stomach, tickling you.

“Roo,” You giggled, “What are you doing?” 

“Thinking,” Bradley shifted so that he was laying between your legs, both hands resting on your stomach. You put down your phone, freeing your hands to rest them on his shoulders. 

“You want to talk about it?” Bradley didn’t respond right away. You patiently waited for him, watching him as he cradled your stomach, pressing soft kisses all over it. 

“Freighter had two kids waiting for him back in Missouri,” Your heart broke for the pilot and his family. Your worst nightmare was getting a knock at your door while Bradley was deployed, men in uniform waiting on your porch to tell you that he wasn’t coming home to you. “My mom used to say that I was the only thing that really helped her get through my dad’s death.” Bradley looked up at you with sad eyes, still holding your stomach. 

You knew what he wanted to do. The two of you had talked about having kids one day, when the time was right. The idea of getting your pregnant usually drove Bradley wild, leading to spur of the moment sex around the house, nothing but pure filth leaving his mouth. It was hot as hell every time but you had never really gotten into it to the level your husband had. Except what he didn’t know is that you had gone off your birth control a few months ago.

“I want to have a kid with you, sweetheart,” Bradley whispered, eyes flickering downwards, not meeting yours. “Not just because I might not come home one day because I’m going to do everything I can to come home but because I think we’re going to be the best parents.” 

“Then let’s do it, give me a baby, Bradley.” 

The look of surprise on Bradley’s face was precious. You wanted to snap a picture of it but before you could reach for your phone, Bradley was kissing you hard. You sighed into the kiss, spreading your legs so he fit more easily between them. You were wearing one of his shirts and underwear but both pieces of clothing quickly ended up on the floor alongside his pajamas. 

“I love you so much,” Bradley kissed down your neck, between your breasts, paying special attention to your stomach.

“I love you too,” You moaned as he settled between your legs, placing your legs over his shoulders. Bradley ate your pussy like a starving man, obscene noises filling the room as he licked and sucked, sliding two fingers in when you were wet enough. After a year of no sex, it was a mix of pleasure and pain but you were dying for more. 

“So fucking good,” Bradley kissed the inside of your thigh, “Missed you so fucking much.” 

“Missed you,” Your back arched as he pressed in a third finger. “Gonna cum,” Bradley doubled his efforts, rushing you towards your climax, and he didn’t stop when you reached it. Bradley kept going until you were pushing him away, overly sensitive after so long apart.

“Think you’re ready for me?” You tasted yourself on his tongue as he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. “You ready to have my baby?” 

“Please, Lee,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I want to have a baby.” Bradley notched himself at your entrance then paused, giving you a serious look.

“Are we actually about to do this or are we just practicing?” You could tell this was important to him, he’d be okay with either answer because he loved you, but he wanted this to be the real thing.

“I’m not on the pill anymore,” You promised, leaning up for a kiss. “We’re going to have a baby.” 

“Fuck yeah we are,” Bradley’s kissed muffled your moans as he thrust into you in one quick stroke, his cock stretching you, filling you completely. “Gonna put a baby in you,” He promised, setting a deep, steady pace that had your back arching and toes curling. “I’m going to fill you up and fuck my cum back into you, make sure it takes.” 

“Fuck,” You gasped as he pulled your hips, shifting you into a position that let him hit even deeper inside of you.

“You’re going to look so pretty, tummy all swollen with your baby.” Our baby. Those words hit you like a ton of bricks. You were going to have a baby with Bradley and you were over the moon. “Shit, I’m not gonna last.”

“Cum inside me, baby,” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Give me a baby.” Bradley reached between you, rubbing your clit until you were right there on the edge with him.

“Cum for me, honey.” And you did, falling over the edge of your second climax, Bradley following right behind you. The warmth of his cum filling you with the possibility of getting you pregnant was overwhelming, the sensation heightening your orgasm that much more. “That’s it, honey. Milk my cock, take every fucking drop.”

When Bradley finally pulled out he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under your hips, keeping them angled up so nothing leaked out. 

“I love you so much,” He kissed you sweetly, “So, so, so much.” 

Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27 @cevansbaby-dove @runawaybaby3 @helloitzholly

“I love you too, Roo.”

[vivwritesfics]

May I request a Bob Floyd x Reader fic? Maybe Bob coming home for the holidays, but doesn’t tell Reader so Reader is all excited/surprised. (I’m in a fluffy sort of mood.) Thank you :)

warnings: slight, barely there angst, pregnancy, birth

Bob couldn't help but grin as he thought about it, driving home from Top Gun. Leave had come about last minute for him, not giving him enough time to write for you, letting you know.

Writing letters was how you communicated. It was sweet, making him feel like an old timey soldier, writing to his love back home. Sometimes you two would call, arranged through letters. But recently your letters had stopped.

You loved him, Bob knew. The letters stopping didn't make him worried. Maybe they were getting lost. Yeah, that was right, they were getting lost. And that was what Phoenix told him in reassurance every time your letters didn't arrive with the rest of the mail.

He hadn't told you that he was coming home. He could imagine it though. Stepping through the door while you're in the kitchen, stress baking as you often did when he was away. You would turn around and catch sight of him, dropping the bowl that you were holding. It would make a mess at your feet, but you wouldn't care.

"When did you get here?" You would ask him, hand settling on your bump. The pregnancy updates had stopped with the letters and Bob had missed them so much, looking at the pictures you had sent with your previous letters. Pictures of your scans, pictures of your bump, you telling him what size fruit your baby was.

He would smile softly at you, dropping his bags to stride over to you. "I've been here the whole time," he would say as he took your hand and pulled you to step over your dropped baking.

You would throw yourself at him, pressing kisses all over his face. Bob would hold your hips and press his forehead to yours. His hand would travel up, feeling your bump. "My love," he would whisper and kiss you. "My angel." He would drop to his knees. "My baby," he would whisper and kiss your bump.

Bob pulled up to the house in his red truck.

No lights were on, no Christmas decorations were displayed. No twinkling lights hanging from the windows, no tree shining through the open blinds. The decorations, the light up Santa and sleigh weren't set up on the yard and no wreath was on the front door.

Something wasn't right.

Bob grabbed his bags from the truck. He made his way to the front door, unlocked it and walked inside.

The house was silent, still. When Bob had come home as a surprise before, the whole surprise had been ruined by the dog running up to him, barking his head off. But not this time. The dog wasn't there, his bowl by the front door was gone.

"Honey!" Bob called. It was too early for you too be asleep. Heading up the stairs, he walked to your shared bedroom. "Baby?" Throwing open the door he looked into the room.

The bed was perfectly made in the too cold bedroom, as if you weren't sleeping there. His stomach dropped. Bob ran from room to room, desperately searching for any sign of you. He ran to the room beside your own, his heart sinking.

The room had been set up for the baby, completely finished. It was something he hadn't gotten around to before he headed back to work, headed out to sea. But here it was, walls completely painted, the mural he had started finished. The crib had been set up and the shelves had been screwed into the walls, filled with soft toys and picture books.

Maybe you had left him.

No. The baby's room was ready in the house you shared. You couldn't have left him.

Grabbing his phone, Bob pressed to his ear. He waited, anxiety making him feel so damn sick as he headed back to his truck.

You picked up within a few rings. "Bobby?" You asked, voice small and breaking. It came out almost like a squeak, had Bob's heart melting.

"Hey, honey," he whispered, relief flooding him. You didn't hate him, you hadn't left him. You wouldn't have sounded like that if you did. "I'm home."

"Shit."

He hadn't been expecting that.

"What is it?" He asked quickly. That same panic flooding him yet again.

"Bobby, we went to stay with your parents."

We. You and the dog. "You're in Montana?" He asked as he headed back inside. "You made the drive on your own?"

"We stopped on the way," you said, an attempt to reassure him. "We didn't do the whole twenty hours in one stint."

Bob dropped his bags and headed upstairs. "I'm on my way," he said as he stuffed his clothes into a bag. "I'll be there soon, sweetheart. Just act surprised when I get there."

You laughed, the sweetest sound Bob had ever heard. "Okay," you said. "I love you." The two of you hung up after that, letting him get himself ready for the drive.

Bob tried to do the twenty hour drive in one do. Fifteen hours in, he pulled into a rest stop, refuelled and had a nap. It was just a quick one, letting him rest before he hit the road again.

Five hours later, he pulled up outside of his parents house. He had driven through the night, desperate to get to you. The moment he pulled up outside of the house, he climbed out of the car and walked up to his parents front door. You were in there, his wife, the soon to be mother of his child.

Sucking in a breath, he knocked.

Only a few moments later, the door was pulled open. Bob's father stood there, eyes wide as he looked at his son. he didn't know he was home, leaving it as a surprise, just as you said you would.

His dad pulled him into the house, arms around him. He said nothing as he walked him through the house, into the living room.

The minute Bob laid eyes on you, he felt himself welling up. "Hi, Bobby," you whispered.

His steps were slow as he approached you, as he approached the little bundle in your arms. "Hi honey," he whispered and dropped to his knees in front of you.

His eyes hadn't left the baby in your arms. He swallowed, his mouth dry. "Is this..."

You nodded. "Bobby Floyd, I'd like you to meet your daughter."

His daughter. You had given birth... and Bob had missed it. He took his glasses off as he wiped his tears away. His daughter. She was here. He had missed almost all of your pregnancy, left you to do it all on your own.

He couldn't help the way he cried. You reached out and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Do you wanna hold her?" You asked and Bob nodded.

You placed your daughter into his arms. Bob choked down a sob as he looked down at her. She was so small in his arms, had his nose. Fuck, she was the most precious thing he had ever seen.

You wiped more tears from his cheeks as Bob sat beside you on the sofa. You leaned against him, your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he cried, unable to take his eyes off of her. "You did this all on your own and I should have been here."

"I was fine, Bobby," you whispered and pushed your fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him. "I knew it couldn't do the holidays on my own, so I came here. I sent you a letter telling you."

He released a mix of a laugh and a sob. "I haven't been getting letters," he said, his voice shaking as his head came to rest on top of yours.

Your eyes went wide. "What? So, you missed the letters about Amelia?"

Amelia Floyd. His daughter. He sobbed again, looking down at her. She opened her eyes, her blue eyes and stared up at her father. She started crying, but it was nothing to do with him. "Hungry, 'melia?" You asked as you took her from his arms.

His wife, his daughter at his family home. The dog came to join you at some point, jumped into his lap and licked his face. "Okay, Rog," he said through a laugh, giving him the attention he so wanted.

His family, reunited for the holidays. He couldn't have asked for anything better for Christmas.

[starseungs]

a phoenix's ashes. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — from a love that burned bright to a love that fell like ashes. only a sincere wish from the heart would make a love twice as better rise from its remains.

genre/s — exes to lovers, second chance, angst with a happy ending, pianist!seungmin, violinist!reader • 1.5k words

warning/s — not much other than pain, lack of communication as a theme

note — another seungmin fic because i need to get over this man 🧍‍♀️ its messing with my brain chemistry... | song inspos are « i don't want to watch the world end with someone else - clinton kane » and « huling sandali - december avenue »

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

In the windows of your sight, the view tints green.

They were a startling contrast to the bright white lights illuminating the stage ahead. It framed the picture of the scene well, you suppose. With the two performers seemingly glowing in the tints of yellow provided by the Brazilian maple flooring. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by one of the two, who was donning a beautifully polished violin in her hands. The strings sang in delight as the woman delivered the intricately thought-out vibrations to all those who could hear. 

And those who did, listened. Down to every last sound.

To word it in the simplest way you could muster, it would have to be perfect. The type of playing every person who has learned the violin even once has dreamed of achieving. A small but content smile makes itself known on your face as desires and memories paint themselves in splashes. You were once like that; you hummed to no one in particular. Acknowledgement lost in the silence of muted praises. The green you were presented with made much more sense in the moment of awareness.

Envy. It was an emotion you've come to know, admittedly very well. Drips of resentment seeped through the river of flowing emotions that were overwhelming you. Despicable as it was, you let it be. After all, it was what kept you grounded. Only a fool would discard an anchor when heading into the chaotic sea. The precaution may not always apply—especially not in the depths of the darkest waters—but the thought is what keeps a lost sailor hopeful with the dreams of land.

A certain ring of a key brought you back to the moment at hand. In what seems like a flash, your eyes lost sight of the violinist you were dedicating your absolute attention to. Instead, your gaze shifted to her side, where a male was sitting in front of a sleek black grand piano. The furrowing of your eyebrows proved to be an unstoppable action as your mind connected the face to a name. One that you had refused to utter from the moment his figure stepped on stage. A dark, almost black, blue tie hung securely around his neck. It was in a shade that made you shudder with an awful interpretation.

Longing. You deciphered the tingle of desperation. Every piano key he pressed seemed to grow louder in your ears. It almost scared you to think that the pianist would overpower the strings of the violin you adored so much. A clawing feeling sank itself deeper into your skin, wishing to avoid memories of the time when the two sounds co-existed as a symphony. But it was eventually deemed unfruitful as the score ran to its end.

If only—oh, if only you could retrace your steps back to that time. Back when the music floated carelessly through the air. Without fear or judgement of those who were out of the equation. Back to when you loved with a passion. The days that let your heart skip in a melody resembling the piece being played. You let out a silent chuckle.

Maybe in another life. For now, the present will have to do. A soft smile graces your lips once again as you watch the pianist stand, plastering a content-looking smile at his splendid performance. 

You could only clap in respect.

Witnessing the last stage of the day brought an odd feeling. With the hall lights appearing to guide the audience away, the darkness being chased away was akin to multiple weights being lifted off your shoulder. That itself would have been the best way to end your afternoon. 

If only that didn’t mean having to walk under the dimming evening sky.

“You came,” a voice called out. The two words were short and concise. Straight to the point. A statement rather than a question. The frigid tone of someone who, in your memories, was always so warm made you exhale too shakily for your liking. It was humorous, as it was a great complement to the vibrant orange sunset amidst the chilly air of the incoming night.

The pavement crackled under your feet. “And you made it,” you stated back. His stare shot straight into yours from the minute you turned around. “Congratulations, Seungmin. You did well out there.”

“Even if it’s not the same?”

“What was there to be mourned about? The dynamics sounded heavenly in my ears,” you admitted. The moment of hesitation before your last sentence lingered in the air. You watched a lone leaf swing downward in the space between the two of you.

His next words were spoken through gritted teeth. “It could have been better.”

“Seungmin, you should know by now that I’m never going to be the mind reader you expect me to be.” You sighed in defeat. “I could know you, but I could never be you. So, tell me what you actually want to say.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” he spits out. “You knew me too well that I let myself take advantage of the security you gave me. But that didn’t mean you had to break what you’ve built for yourself just because of me! How much more selfless do you want to be, to the point that you become a selfish coward!”

A car rushed by the barren sidewalk the both of you stood on. The sun had long since been gone, replaced by the moon to be the sole spectator in the exchange between two old flames. Lines of streetlights resembled the lights on the stage you had abandoned, imitating previous performances you once shared with Seungmin. You clenched your fists at the flashes of memory.

“You can’t just hold on to the past like that, Seungmin—”

“Not if it was the present and future that I wanted!” He cries out. “You would never understand what I had to go through when you stepped off that stage for good. The endless nights that I thought to myself, how you could just make that decision like it was nothing. But in the end, it was just me refusing to acknowledge that you had given up. You gave up on me. On us.”

The spear that had lodged in your heart long ago started moving again. You had so much to tell him—that you couldn’t. Not when your conversations with the constellations had you blaming yourself the same way he did to his own. It was never about whatever thought Seungmin made into a conclusion on his own. 

It was the complaint-turned-advice that you failed to apply to yourself.

“Stand on stage again, Y/N.” You flinched at the emotional cracks in Seungmin’s voice. “Stand beside me again.”

In that moment, you proved him right once again. Exactly how long are you going to act selfless to shield your selfish cowardice? You claimed that you wanted to be the muse for Seungmin’s harmony. Yet the moment your skills were questioned, you let go of everything without even a second glance. Now, did you really have the right to dictate whether you were enough for Seungmin or not?

“The violin is no longer for me,” was what came out as a whisper. You watched as Seungmin’s eyes glistened to produce clear beads resembling diamonds. Fear that he might have caught on to the undertone of weariness you were trying to hide after a year of endless convincing. “I’ve left it behind me. It’s been a year.”

A storeowner nearby shuts the front doors of his shop.

“Even the person I fell in love with?” Seungmin asks. “The person you were at the beginning of what we used to call us? The person who shone brighter than the high-grade theater lights, no matter who else was beside them? The same person who could never compare to the stars in the night sky with how much they burned with passion? If so, then tell me right here and right now. That the one I loved has long been left behind by the year as well.”

Your hands twitch to grip an imaginary violin and bow.

“Seungmin.” 

“Please,” he pleads desperately. “Break what’s left of the man who loved that version of you. I refuse to let the fragments of what you were continue to be the reason I keep myself understanding of the pain you bring to me. This is my last wish to you, Y/N. Please let my heart hate you as well.”

Something wet fell in droplets right by your shoes.

“I can’t.”

There were streams flowing down your face.

“I haven’t left that version of me behind.”

A bubbling wail makes itself present in your throat.

“I never forgot how much I loved the violin.”

Slow footsteps echoed through the area.

“And especially not how I continued to love you even throughout that one year.”

Warmth. Like the yellow tint emitted from the Brazilian maple flooring when the overhead lights hit it during a performance. Like the heat of the moment when you reach the climax of a piece. You were back in Seungmin’s arms. In the stage where only you and him existed.

Just where you needed to be.

SERIES TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka

[hisui-dreamer]

where the light is dim

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: everyone's wandered off in the festival, and you can't even find a familiar face

Tags: poetic themes, fluff, diasomnia shenanigans

Word count: 436

Notes: happy chinese new year everyone🧧🏮🎆!! this was heavily inspired by a chinese poem that takes place on new years (which i attempted a translation of below hehe), and plus it's the year of the dragon, so now we have mal mal festival time (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Masterlist

The east wind blows breezes a thousand blossoming trees,

The stars, like rain, descend like a gentle breeze.

Bejewelled carriages and fine horses leave a fragrant trail on the road,

Phoenix flutes resound in the wind, the jade lantern’s light flows,

All night, the fish and dragon lanterns dance.

Maidens adorned with gold, extravagant pins in their hair,

Smiling shyly, fragrance lingering in the air.

In the crowd, searching countless times,

Suddenly, turning my head,

There stands the one, where the light is dim.

―青玉案・元夕 辛棄疾

The street pulses with energy, vibrant and bustling beneath a canopy of scarlet lanterns that sway gently in the evening breeze. Each lantern, adorned with intricate designs and tassels, casts a warm, inviting glow that bathes the cobblestone pavement below in a rich crimson hue.

The air is alive with the hum of chatter and laughter, as locals and visitors alike meander through the thoroughfare, their footsteps echoing against the ancient brick walls that line the street. Vendors peddle their wares from colourful stalls, their voices competing with the lively strains of traditional music that drift from nearby taverns and teahouses.

'Where is he?' you thought to yourself, tired from the heavy ornaments painstakingly styled into your hair as you turned and turned your head to catch even a glimpse of him amidst the bustling crowd.

Malleus had invited you to a short trip to the Far East, prompted by Silver's longing to explore the lands of his childhood hero, and swiftly organized by Lilia's enthusiastic urging. You're not sure whether Lilia was aware of it or not, your travels happened to coincide with a grand local festival.

The street offers a multitude of intrigue, from mouth-watering scents from the food skewers to the delicate souvenirs hand-crafted by merchants, and it's not long before you find yourselves gradually becoming separated from the group amidst the bustling crowd. The allure of the vibrant surroundings pulls each person in a different direction, until eventually, you can no longer spot any familiar faces amidst the sea of glamorous outfits adorning the local ladies.

A whirring noise catches your attention, and you turn to the direction of the sound. Your gaze is met with the spectacle of fireworks illuminating the night sky, their explosions of brilliance painting the heavens with vibrant hues, scattering glittering sparks like diamonds. Brilliant reds, dazzling blues, and alluring golds intertwine and collide, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colour that captivates all who gaze upon it.

It's a view you want to share with him.

You weave through the crowd once again, deftly sidestepping opulent carriages and elegant ladies. Their alluring perfume mingles with the joyous melodies of the flutes, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you momentarily dizzy.

A glance down a narrow alley catches your attention, and in the distance, a lone lantern flickers. Squinting to sharpen your focus, you realise you've found the very person you're looking for.

Malleus, tucked away in the shadowy corner, his focus fixed solely upon a weathered lion stone statue.

You can't help the exasperated smile that graces your lips.

Maybe you should've expected that.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[cyborg-franky]

For the lovely @argothesame thank you for the love and support! I feel rusty so I really hope you like this <3<3

Marco x GN Reader SFW WC: 740

“It’s so fuckin’ hot I hate it.” You whined and draped yourself over the couch in Marco’s office, fanned yourself with a file of paperwork, and looked utterly pathetic. Marco peered over his glasses to look at you melting. He chuckled and stood up from his work.

“It’s not that hot yoi,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders and you shot him a look as you carried on fanning yourself, tugging at the neck of your shirt desperate for anything else to help. The windows were open but not even the lovely sea breeze was enough to cool you down. 

“Easy for you to say, you run cool because of your devil fruit,” you said with a huff and watched him open the fridge, get a large jug of water and pour you both a glass, soon joining you on the couch once you’d shuffled up enough to make room for him. You took the glass and held it against your forehead with a sigh. “Thank you,” he just nodded with a lazy smile as you started to down the water. Enjoying how cool and refreshing it was, you needed this.

“If Ace comes in today, I will throw myself into the sea. The boy is so hot; he raises the temperature just by being in here,” you warned. Marco hummed, sipping his drink and putting an arm around you. You were about to groan and make a fuss, cranky from the rise in the summer temperature, not needing extra body heat but you saw the flicks of blue in the corner of your eye and feel the air change. He was cooling you down, and you leaned into him with a relieved mumble.

You closed your eyes when he started to run his fingers through your hair, playing with the strands as his cooling touch chased away the nasty sticky feeling. You didn’t feel like you were sweating buckets now as you felt a happy shiver from being in Marco’s proximity. He kept you wrapped in his arms and the cooling blue flames. You started nodding off when the cup of water you’d held tightly tilted enough to splash water down your top. You made a started sound and sat up. Marco took the cup from your flailing hands as you wiped yourself down with a mumble. 

Marco chuckled, the low rumbling in his chest as he watched you panic dry yourself. “What’s the matter, little bird? I thought you wanted to be cooled down,” the lazy smile soon slid into a smirk as you fixed him a side eye, flapping your shirt up and down to do your best to dry it. “Not what I had in mind,” you sighed. You’d been so comfortable in his embrace, like your own personal cool summer breeze in the form of strong arms.

You could see the crinkle around his eyes as he gazed at you lovingly, amused as he set down your water and pulled you back against him. Using his flames to keep your temper down, you settled against him again, your irritation from moments again washed away with the gentle breeze that wafted in through the open window. 

“Can we stay like this all day?” you asked, your fingers interwining with his as you felt his lips brushing against your forehead, a quick kiss. “Hmm, as much as I’d love to, I can’t yoi,” Marco replied. You knew that would be his answer. He was always so busy either with medical things or navigation.

You were always baffled by how someone as busy as Marco could be so laid-back and relaxed. It must have been something to do with the phoenix making time an illusion for him. “Yeah, I know,” you tried to keep the disappointed tinge from your voice, but Marco saw through it, always able to read you like a book.

“But, when I’m done, we can go for a late-night flight?” he offered, and you perked up, causing him a laugh. He loved your honest reactions. “Sound good? I take it?” His smile grew, and his beautiful blue eyes sparkled as the flames' reflection danced in the depths. 

“That sounds perfect,” you smiled and leaned up, kissing the stubble on his chin as he held you a little longer. He waited until you slipped off into an afternoon nap, gently laying you down on the couch, and then went back to work.

[ryin-silverfish]

I understood that Fox spirits with gold and white fur are normally heavenly foxes. But Su Daji in the versions we know, killed people before the events of the story. So, will any type of fox spirit get this color when it already has its nine tails? even if they are already foxes that killed people?

I am kinda confused by the wording of this question. Correct me if I'm wrong:

-Heavenly foxes = foxes with gold/white fur and 9 tails

-Heavenly foxes are "good", or at least work for the establishment

-Su Daji of the Pinghua version is a heavenly fox, judging by her appearance

-But she kills people and isn't good

-Does that mean gold/white fur color and 9 tails is merely a signifier of power in fox spirits, and has nothing to do with their alignment or allegiance?

Well...time to dive into some fox spirit lore.

In the oldest Chinese legends, nine-tailed foxes are very much divine beasts. The Girl of Tushan, for example. Nine-tailed foxes also appeared in Han dynasty grave reliefs and paintings as part of Queen Mother of the West's worship:

They were very much auspicious beasts, like Qilins or Phoenixs. Same goes for white foxes.

The exact point in time where "Auspicious Foxes" started shifting into "Demonic Foxes" is unclear, but it probably had something to do with the change in ways people conceive of yaoguais: namely, the idea that anything that grow old enough can become a yaoguai.

Foxes seemed like a prime candidate for that kind of stuff, because unlike dragons or phoenixs, they were just too common, mundane, and eerie. Divine beasts don't sneak into your chicken coop under the cover of darkness.

By the Northern and Southern dynasty, in Ge Hong's Baopuzi, there was already the idea that animals that reached a certain age could transform into humans, and he cited foxes, wolves and jackals as an example:

"...They can live up to 800 years old, and when they reached 500 years old, these beasts transform into human shapes."

Around the same time period, Guo Pu's Xuanzhong Ji gave an even more elaborate account of fox spirits' transformation:

"Upon reaching 50 years of age, foxes can transform into women. 100 years, beautiful women, divine shaman, or men in order to charm women. They can know things from thousands of miles away, are masters of the arts of charms, able to make people lose their minds...at 1000 years old, they can commune with Heaven, and are known as heavenly foxes."

This concept of heavenly foxes had a renaissance in the Tang dynasty, where folk worship of foxes were very popular, and Daoist influences meant that many foxes in Tang folklore were practitioners of the Daoist arts.

If foxes could cultivate, it was only natural that the best cultivators among them could become immortals, just like human Daoists, and get a job in the Celestial Bureaucracy.

Curiously enough, all Tang dynasty heavenly foxes were male foxes, and the troubles they got into often stemmed from their own lust and entitlement to human women.

Heavenly fox status also offered them protection from death sentences: when they were subdued by Daoist masters or immortals, the punishments were either beating with a rod or exile.

However, only one Tang text connected heavenly foxes with nine-tailed foxes and a specific fur color: You Yang Za Zu, which I cited in a previous answer.

In a sense, this fusion of nine-tailed foxes with heavenly foxes was really going back to the roots of "Nine-tailed Foxes as Auspicious Beasts".

But it didn't last, and by the Song dynasty, nine-tailed foxes had undergone full yaoguai-fication like the rest of their kind.

This is just my speculation, but "Nine-tailed Foxes as Demonic Spirits" could perhaps be traced back as far as their more auspicious associations: the nine-tailed foxes of the Book of Mountains and Seas were just another type of man-eating fantastic beasts, after all.

Anyways, it is at this point that the idea of Daji being a nine-tailed fox first appeared, and FSYY Pinghua went a step further by merging Daji with the "heavenly nine-tailed fox" of You Yang Za Zu, turning the auspicious divine beast back into the demonic.

But, back to your question: a white/golden fox, or a nine-tailed fox, is not necessarily a heavenly fox. In the Qin-Han era, that's just an auspicious beast.

By Guo Pu's definition, a heavenly fox is just an incredibly powerful 1000 years old fox. By the Tang dynasty definition, a heavenly fox is a long-lived master of the Daoist arts who managed to get a job in the Celestial Bureaucracy.

They absolutely can be assholes (though shielded from the worst punishment). The idea that a heavenly fox is also a nine-tailed fox of unusual fur color is specific to that one passage in You Yang Za Zu and FSYY Pinghua.

Having nine tails/white or golden fur doesn't say anything about a fox's alignment or morality either. Rather, it says more about people's general conception of foxes during that specific era, and what was auspicious in one dynasty could easily become markers of the demonic in another.

[serpentthecrow]

Sleepy time with the grishaverse characters

A/n: I... Don't even... Sorry about that. My executive dysfunction did its magic. But here you have this as a peace offering since you guys liked the crows one. I can't even believe how long it's been. I'm probably not going to keep writing too many fics, if any at all. But this one's mandatory. And short.

Summary: headcannons on the sleeping habits of (some of) the grishaverse characters.

Alina Starkov

Hear me out

The girl's out like a light

Exactly the type of person to roll around the bed, end up in peculiar positions, and mainly, accidentally slap you or kick you in her sleep

Isn't picky, but if she COULD choose- only the softest mattress, duvet and pillows

She's petty like that

Has absolutely no night routine. Like. NONE.

Owns no pajamas. Just normal clothes passing as sleep clothes.

Gonna use her sun summoner powers when getting up in the middle of the night to fetch water etc., only to curse profusely because ✨light sensitivity✨

Midnight snacks. No elaboration is needed.

Definitely owns a stag plushie. Cause poor thing.

Mal Oretsev

Sleeps like he's in a coffin

No honestly. Like, on his back, straight as a plank. Psychopath.

The nightmares tho.

The biggest duvet stealer

Never actually uses the duvet tho. Kicks it away every time

Can barely be bothered to change

Absolutely cannot be bothered to make the bed

Hasn't got a single idea how to put on a bedsheet

Red flag: eats in bed too often

Occasionally has a dream about Nikolai throwing him overboard Volkvolny and grinning down at him, saints know why.

Would fall asleep under any circumstance. Light, loud sounds, anything. Bang two pans repeatedly next to his head, and the guy will still fall asleep if he's sure he can afford to.

Has a phoenix plushie. Pun intended.

Aleksander Morozova

does this guy even sleep? Questionable.

But in case he does:

A side sleeper

Surprisingly heavy sleeper

Rarely sleeps in bed when unsupervised tho. Not uncommon for him to fall asleep in a chair.

Black silk sheets only.

Talks in his sleep

Seriously.

If someone walked in on him sleeping, he'd be long since executed for treason.

Absolutely unaffected by caffeine

Produces a whole lotta shadows before going to sleep, roused by the slightest amount of light.

The extensive night routine is canon.

Doesn't have a plushie. The only one in this hc series btw.

Nikolai Lantsov

my favorite sailor bo- anyway

(Let's ignore Volkralai for the purpose of these hc's)

A stomach sleeper. We stan.

A pillow hugger. We stan.

Mostly blue bedding, especially in the palace or the spinning wheel, since we all know he misses the sea.

Another one with a whole-ass night routine.

Reduced amount of clothes when sleeping- usually just pants

They're pajama pants tho

Has some trouble falling asleep on land, he's used to the rocking of the ship

nap king, especially as Sturmhond

Reads a LOT before bed

A night owl- has to be reminded to got to sleep

Sometimes starts to rant about some invention of his

C A N N O T fall asleep without cuddles. Like, he's physically unable

The biggest manchild about waking up early.

Has a fox plushie. A fact.

Genya Safin

babygirl has nightmares, okay? Gotta start with that.

lowkey got accustomed to some level of luxury in Os Alta

not the biggest fan of cuddling. For understandable reasons

a warm beverage before bed

fuzzy socks

tries to maintain an exact time to go to sleep but ultimately fails because she's got trouble falling asleep

probably improves on her sleeping habits once she becomes a part of the triumvirateonly cause she has to tho

overthinking before sleep queen

does she have a plushie? Does David count? You tell me.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Weather

Bombogenesis and bomb cyclone - A bombogenesis is “the process that occurs during a 24-hour period when the atmospheric pressure of an extratropical cyclone drops with enough intensity to produce explosive cyclogenesis.” The central barometric pressure drops quickly, producing hurricane-force winds and heavy snow or rainfall—like 77 inches worth of snow in one day. Nor’easters often undergo bombogenesis as cold winds from the north mix with warmer ocean water from the south, creating a big temperature range. These “weather bombs” or bomb cyclones can become blizzards when the conditions are just right. These bombs happen mostly in the fall and winter, but they aren’t unheard of during other times of the year.

Crepuscular ray - A twilight ray of sunlight shining through breaks in high clouds and illuminating dust particles in the air.

Derecho - A widespread and severe windstorm that moves rapidly along a fairly straight path, and it is associated with bands of rapidly moving thunderstorms. In some instances, the media will refer to derechos as "inland hurricanes".

Frazil - “Ice crystals formed in turbulent water, as in swift streams or rough seas.” However, frazil can also form in lakes and oceans; it is the start of sea ice. Frazil usually forms on very clear nights with very low temperatures.

Gloriole - “A halo, nimbus, or aureole.” When ice crystals are suspended in the atmosphere, light catches them causing a bright halo or even a rainbow around the sun or moon. The gloriole forms 22 degrees away from the center of the object, but this phenomenon can often be confused with coronas that form due to water droplets.

Graupel - A type of precipitation that is formed when really cold water droplets collect, freeze, and fall on snowflakes. This creates what is known as a ball of rime, which is “an opaque coating of tiny, white, granular ice particles.”

Haboob - “A thick dust storm or sandstorm that blows in the deserts of North Africa and Arabia or on the plains of India.” Haboob’s dust-storm cousin also hits the United States—just ask anyone who lives in Phoenix. These dust storms usually occur during or as a result of a thunderstorm.

Hunch weather - This term dates back to the 1700s; drizzle or winds that are strong enough to make you hunch over when you walk.

Monkey's wedding - Sunshine and rain at the same time; also known to be called sun showers. However, in South Africa, a “sun shower” is also known as a monkey’s wedding.

Moonbroch - A large halo around the moon; it is a sign of an approaching storm. A broch is an old term for a Scottish circular stone tower.

Petrichor - The distinct scent of rain in the air. More precisely, it’s the name of an oil that’s released from the earth into the air before rain begins to fall.

Polar vortex - A massive whirlpool of cold air that hovers above Earth’s North and South poles. During the warm months, the vortex shrinks toward the poles and generally stays out of our hair, which is nice. During the winter though, the vortex’s boundary—a narrow band of fast air called the polar front jet stream—expands, dipping toward the equator and dumping frigid weather onto any unsuspecting towns (or commuters) in its path.

Sastruga - (Sastrugi in the plural form) means “ridges of snow formed on a snowfield by the action of the wind.”

Smuir - “A thick atmosphere, a dense enveloping cloud or swirl of smoke, snow, rain, or mist.” Alternatively, a blind smuir is merely a snowdrift.

Snow - The partially frozen water vapor which falls in flakes.

Snow eater - When there’s snow everywhere. But, all of a sudden, a nice warm breeze blows over the snow and melts it all away. This usually happens in the Rockies.

Snow flurries - Light, intermittent snowfall without significant accumulation; tend to come from stratiform clouds.

Snow showers - A short period of light-to-moderate snowfall, also characterized by a sudden beginning and ending. There is some accumulation with snow showers, and they fall from convective or cumuliform clouds.

Snow squall - A heavy snow shower with strong winds.

Sugar weather - In Canada, when they have nice warm days but chilly nights, that’s known as sugar weather. That type of weather is just right for getting the maple syrup running in the maple trees.

Swullocking - Hot, sticky, humid weather during the summer; humid weather.

Thundersnow - When snow is the primary form of precipitation in a thunderstorm (instead of rain).

Virga - The virga phenomenon is when you can see that it is raining, but it evaporates on the way to the ground and ends up changing back to water vapor before you can feel it. When it rains and the rain actually makes it to the ground, there’s a meteorological word for that, too: praecipitatio.

Williwaw - A violent squall that blows in near-polar latitudes, as in the Strait of Magellan, Alaska, and the Aleutian Islands.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: On Weather ⚜ Calm & Stormy ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[kurithedweeb]

Dear Sir Garroth,

Allow me to be plain with you, Sir. I'm angry at you. Pissed at you, really. Extraordinarily pissed, if you couldn't tell from the scorched edge of this letter you will likely never see. I'm not even sure why I'm still writing this seeing as I tried to burn it before I finished the first sentence. Perhaps only because it's something to do.

I was stabbed the day before the battle ended, do you remember? By a frost dagger. I would have appreciated the warning that the cold will run through your veins, perhaps from a man who used to wield one himself? You know how the cold afflicts me, you bastard. No matter, my blood is plenty warm with hurt now. Since you first bound it on the field, my stitches have been torn thrice. I collapsed the moment I stepped through the portal and had to be helped into town to see Donna.

Though she may be a wondrously talented medic, Donna is no healer or witch. There's only so much she could do and so she's ordered I remain on bedrest until I've healed to her liking. I'm loathe to bring that woman's wrath down on myself, hence why I am now writing pointless letters to men stranded in different realms. She has four children now, Donna; Yip, twin boys Lello and Rollo, and a girl named Luca. She's only a babe, Luca, still in her swaddling, but the twins must be nearly ten. I tell you this because it's been fifteen years. We've been gone fifteen years. You may still be gone years and years.

Levin is grown now. Lord, even. He resembles you very much, all keen blue eyes and wisps of blond curls falling in his face, but his mannerisms are alike his mothers'. He has a faint trace of your accent in his words, too. He did not recognize me. I'm told he was too young when we left to remember us properly, though Malachi supposedly does. He's a trader these days, out at sea with Logan when we arrived home. Levin didn't speak with me long, as busy all day as our lady is—was. He did tell me he'd been excited to meet us both, that his brother and Uncle Dante had told him stories of us as he'd grown, and he'd known that if we were anything at all like how they'd described then we were good men he'd rather get to know.

Dante's grown old. I last saw him hours ago, and now he is head guard rather than the slight boy fresh from the academy we knew him as. The dark circles under his eyes make me worry he hasn't had a proper rest in years, and he's thin in a way I wish I didn't recognize. Do you remember the night he snuck away to handle the O'khasian archers? You might not. I've found even so soon after to my eyes the days and nights blend together at times. I remember the great tears rolling down his face when you and I removed the arrow and picked the remains from his face. That night left a scar on either cheek, rough ones shaped like starbursts or comets. The shape far-off lights make in the night when you squint just right. He felt so small in the cradle of my arms then. He's of a height with me now, standing eye to eye.

We missed their entire lives in the Matron's realm. Gone in a blink. Our boys, our brother, our friends, they have all moved past us. Irony of irony, they've sent us off into the Matron's embrace already, Sir Garroth Ro'Meave. Buried us and moved on.

Because of your actions, we have missed the whole of their lives, the lives we could have shared with them. Should have. All for what? For a man you hadn't seen in at least a decade, one you no longer knew at all?

Everything has changed because of what you did, you ass. I should tell you I will never forgive this deed of yours. And yet I miss you already.

Sincerely yours,

Your second-in-command, Sir Laurance Zvahl of Phoenix Drop.

[inspofromancientworld]

Legendary Creatures: Simurgh

By Alaexis - Own work, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2115489

A simurgh (سیمرغ, also spelled senmurv, simorgh, simorg, simurg, simoorg, simorq or simourv) is a Persian bird that is related to the phoenix that spans an area from Georgia, to Armenia, and the Byzantine Empire and other areas that were influenced by the Persian Empire.

By Unknown author - This file has been provided by the British Library from its digital collections.Catalogue entry: IOSM J.67, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31453107

The word simurgh is related to the words meaning 'the bird of Saēna', a raptor, probably an eagle, falcon, or sparrowhawk as the Sanskrit śyenaḥ (श्येनः) meaning 'bird of prey'. Though it is also closely related to the phrase sī murğ (سی مرغ) that means 'thirty birds', which was used by Sufi poet Abū Ḥāmid bin Abū Bakr Ibrāhīm (c. 1145 – c. 1221; Persian: ابوحمید بن ابوبکر ابراهیم), better known by his pen-names Farīd ud-Dīn (فریدالدین) and ʿAṭṭār of Nishapur (عطار نیشاپوری) in his The Conference of the Birds as a word play.

By Nickmard Khoey - https://www.flickr.com/photos/nickmard/2887513290/in/set-72157607483985460/, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5619184

The simurgh is frequently depicted as a winged creature, large enough to carry an elephant or a whale, with the body of a peacock, head of a dog, and claws of lions. Sometimes, it has a human face. It is old enough that it 'had seen the destruction of the world three times over'. It also plunges itself into flames every 1,700 years, similar to phoenixes.

By Painting: Unknown 7th century artist.Photographer: undetermined - This file has been extracted from another file, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=95912662

They are benevolent, purifying land, bestowing fertility, mediating the union between the Earth and the sky by serving as a messenger. It lived in the Tree of Life in the middle of the world sea. When it flew away from the Tree of Life, the Tree shook so hard that it lost leaves, which became the seeds of every plant. It also expresses the divine mandate of kingship and priesthood.

By From the Sarai Albums. - http://www.ee.bilkent.edu.tr/~history/Pictures1/im16.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5760173

Abul-Qâsem Ferdowsi Tusi (940-ابوالقاسم فردوسی توسی 1019/1025), also Firdawsi or Ferdowsi (فردوسی) wrote the most famous story about the simurgh in his Shahnameh (Book of Kings). In it, a prince named Zal, son of Saam, was born albino, causing his father to cast him out, believing him to be demonic. A simurgh rescues him and raises him, teaching him wisdom as they have all knowledge. When Sal was old enough, he wanted to rejoing humanity and the simurgh and the simurgh gave him three feathers to call her should he need her help. He married a woman named Rudaba who had a difficult labor with their first child. The simurgh responded to his call for help and taught him to perform a cesarean section.

[missmarveledsblog]

Fan girl ( Mickey garcia x reader)

summary : when bob is sent from the hard deck to his little sisters sos message well she is not what they expect

warnings : other then shitty friend it's mostly goofy fluffy fun. mutual pining , slight age gap like ten years or less , idiots in love nerdy good fun , dry humping is as smutty as this part goes next part will be more spicy if another part is wanted that is ?

The hard deck well was the hard deck , the place filling up , tag chasers sizing up what  would be their goal for the night as the naval officer done the same.   bob nursed his ginger ale listening to phoenix talking away to him and javy , watching rooster and jake sizing the sea of woman as well as each other like a competition  and listening to fanboy talking about the latest season of some fantasy show he was watching as payback simply asked what he done last night  . that was til the buzzing of his phone pulled from his pocket looking at the string of texts coming up , he knew she was in san diego , they planned to meet up some point  but what he didn’t expect an SOS  and his little sister almost begging him to get her .  He tensed up standing almost spilling his soda . 

“ hey what’s wrong” phoenix asked concerned tone pulling his fellow dagger squads attention. 

“ i gotta go my little sister is in trouble and needs me , shit where are my key” he panicked looking around. 

“ pocket come on” nat took the keys from his pocket placing them in his hand. 

“ hey i’ll pay your tab” she smiled softly as he nodded . 

“ we’ll come too incase “ rooster pulled the nearest to him which happened to be hangman and fanboy . 

Rushing out he was scared shitless afraid of what was going on and what trouble she could of gotten into at a comic book convention . 

The crowd thick ,  eager  fans pushing and shoving dying to  get a touch even a glimpse of the panels and their stars  and usually she was the same . an eager bunny ready to hear the plans and spoilers to a new movie coming .  But now she felt small , tiny as she looked down at her costume , the cosplay she took months perfecting  and yet the whole mood soured by her so called best friend and her weird ass boyfriend . it was honestly so childish and petty but hell her family told her to watch out for that one  and now she was stranded at a convention in san diego the only upside was her brother being stationed here somewhere she was unsure where but honestly the “ i told you so “ lecture would be worth it if it meant she wasn’t left alone in a big place she no idea where she was .   a few  saw her distress eager to help even offering to stay with her while she  text her brother  and if he was coming they would stay til she was safe .  and they did but she eventually told them she was fine making her way out to the entrance knowing her brother was on the way . it really wasn’t her fault and should of seen it coming the whole trip was iffy carrying the bags of her back as she soldiered on to out to the front.  She felt sick and scared and now she was crying outside dressed up while people looked at her like she was some kind of weirdo . 

“ hey sweetcheeks what’s the tears for “ a voice called looking to see a dude coming her way dressed as batman not even a good batman more dollar store kind. 

“ i’m ok i just wanna be alone thank you “ she sniffled moving away .

“ come on don’t be like that  you shouldn’t cry your too hot too cry”  he smiled hand coming to her cheek as she pulled away . “ come on i’m nice guy” he said standing to her closer .

“ stand back “ she snapped only for him to pull her arm harder and her knee to come up hitting him so hard honestly she turned his balls into  a bat cave sending him  groaning to the ground only the dude seemly wasn’t happy to be bested as he pulled her again . 

“ LET HER GO” was all she heard and seen was her brother and three men charging towards her. 

“ fuck off man we’re talking “ the man groaned still trying to push past the pain . 

“ no were are not douche wayne” she stomped on his foot and  grabbing her bags and running to her big brother .   as he went to follow her only for bob to pull her behind him . 

“ i’d walk if i were you these ain’t costumes little boy” the tall blonde smirked as  the man finally caught a look ,   his face draining of any color staring up at the men before him .  walking away muttering something about her being “ a bitch anyway” . 

“ what the hell why you alone where’s annabelle “ bob asked checking her over making sure she wasn’t hurt although her arm was red. 

“ she left me here , her stupid boyfriend kept making sleazy comments and she blamed me after i told him stop  she got my bags and stuff out of her car and they drove off left me here” she sniffled tears filling her eyes. 

“ come on we get you back to mine knew she was a snake “ he gruffed, throwing his coat over her body . 

“ thank you and you guys “ she turned to see his friends all bashful smiled thrown her way . 

“ Did you know bob’s sister was hot” rooster whispered as the two men shook their  heads . 

“ hey baby on board you gonna introduce us to this sweetheart” the blonde called . 

“ hangman  , rooster , fanboy this is my little sister y/n  , y/n this is three of the  seven dagger squad member .. now there come “ he said still pissed she was left stranded and hell annabelle was definitely not gonna be let off with it when he told his other two sisters . she was the baby of the family of course they were protective . 

She sat in the car , she just wanted to get in her pj’s and binge a comfort show but now she was hyper aware of the beautiful ass men in the back seat of  the car . 

“ nice costume darling “ the blonde drawled . 

“ its a cosplay man , right pretty girl..who is it ? “ the mustache man scoffed before a sweet smile turned to her . 

“ Daenerys targaryen “ the one with the kind eyes spoke up.  “ violet eyes “ he explained. 

“  exactly you got that from the white hair and violet eyes most people thought i was Rhaenyra since the whole house of dragons thing “ . 

“ i recognised the clothes from the season one when she was with the dothraki” he spoke up getting more animated as the other two looked completely lost .

“ hey ten point to ..” she paused unsure which one he was but she was guessing who it might be. 

“ fanboy ma’am but mickey is fine” he smiled . 

“ well ten points for mickey “ she giggled . 

“ hey that’s show were they have sex and dragons right” the blonde asked. 

“ yes but it more to it hangman right … i’m bradley “. 

“ he’s right a lot more than sex and dragons but they are cool too i guess” she snorted only for her phone to start buzzing . “ you called mama” she squeaked . 

“ sorry” bob winced although he was on partly sorry . 

“ hey mama … no i’m ok now bobby got me … yeah i’ll stay with him tonight … no mama i haven’t even told him that part” she whined .  

“ told me what?” . 

“ fine i’ll put you on speaker “ she sighed . 

“ bobby baby she can stay with you when she moves there right?” 

“ MAMA im a grown ass woman” she exclaimed .

“ bobby ?” her mother voice called . 

“ of course she can” he nodded . 

“ y’all can hear me right “ she turned to the guys in the back who eagerly nodded.  “ you  know i’m twenty two years old right i ain’t a baby” she called down phone. 

“Thanks bobby “ her mother called.

“Whoops bad signal” she rolled her eyes hanging . 

“ real mature grown up” bob chuckled as he hit the answer button on his car and she groaned face red of course this would happen around the hot guys .

Pulling into bobs  driveway she barely spoke given he was too busy talking to their mom and then it was their dad soon the whole family as she honestly was wondering if the creepy batman was a better choice after all.  She stood stretching out as the guys got out the car too even bob was slightly confused. 

“ can you order pizza bobby i need to shower and wallow for the night maybe watch a movie or two maybe avengers or something”she smiled weakly . 

“Ohh good choice  nat and the guys are on their way “ rooster smiled brightly .

“ oh cool well i’ll go shower” she ran into the house as bob looked into the groupchat . 

“ really hangman “ he rolled his eyes.  “ baby on boards got hot ass sister you gotta see this”  he read the message out . 

“ hey i mean since she gonna be living in san diego it good she has friends right “ he patted his arm heading in the house a swagger on him  ready to  put on his A game .

 “ i won’t let bagman get your sister plus i feel like we had a connection “rooster called as he ran into the WSO  house. 

“ you not going to say anything?” bob look at his friend. 

“ wonder which avenger she like most i like the falcon or winter soldier“ fanboy mused walking with  bob .

It didn’t take long for nat , payback and javy to show up all curious to see how hot said sister was  til she walked out wearing sweats and oversized t-shirt , hair air drying free from the long white wig as she stood seeing more people standing in her brothers living room .  

“ hi i’m nat you must be y/n it nice to meet you “ the dark hair woman stood forward . 

“ nice to meet you too bobby told me all about you .. all of you actually kinda already know all your names “ she chuckled. 

“ yeah well ok come on lets get the movie on “ bob rolled his eyes as she made her way in  her eyes looking to see where to sit and seeing those kind eyes barely looking her eye or trying not to . 

“ mind if i i sit here” she asked pointing to the spot as mickey just smiled the two not even acknowledging the shoving match of the other trying to get the other side til she felt herself bouncing slight. 

“ let watch the revengers huh sweetheart” jake flashed as flirty smile as both her and mickey’s heads shot in his direction . “ if it scary let me know , ill protect ya” he winked . 

“ dude it’s superheroes” rooster rolled his eyes .

“ what one should we watch ohhh maybe timeline order or  we could do mini marathon of them separately although it would only work for some maybe timeline order is best”she mused. 

“ timeline would be better although cause then if we went separately well we would have to watch the series” mickey agreed . 

“  i do need to rewatch the falcon and winter soldier” she nodded . 

“ lets watch that movie” jake nodded. 

“ it’s series no … we could switch and watch different franchise maybe star wars the new acolyte is out “ she mused. 

“ i have yet to watch that i’ve heard mixed review so i’m sort of well waiting to form my own opinion .. if you feeling the superhero vibe we could watch the boys “ he point out as the other were totally lost . 

“ that makes me want to watch supernatural i mean jensen ackles as soldier boy is wow but i do love me some dean winchester” she nodded in agreement. 

“ good omen always makes me wanna watch doctor who obviously david tenant is fantastic but he is my favorite doctor”he chuckled . 

“ oh my god you seeing what i’m seeing “ nat whispered as two nerded out . 

“ unfortunately i do” bob gulped. 

“ can we watch shawshank or something while they figure out well i don’t have a clue what they're even talking about now “ jake head tilted. 

“ i mean i love the last of us the casting is spot on but if they are  sticking to the source material and timeline i am so not looking forward to season two but i am so excited as well “ she sighed .  ( cause same ) 

“ are we invisible to them ?” javy asked looking around the room . 

“ i think that us out of the race “ rooster  chuckled . 

“ are we watching a movie or not” jake asked confused completely and utterly . 

“ oh shit sorry erm we could watch..” 

“ we’re gonna watch shawshank “ bob spoke up saving the whole room from another nerd session .   “ no talking steven king” he added making her mouth close. 

“ i was gonna ask if pizza was coming “ she huffed . 

“ steven king is cool though” mickey whispered making her nod eagerly . 

It was six month since her brother rescued her from being stranded in comic con , creepy batman and meeting his friends  who were also her friends even if she was ten years younger than them it still was nice being able to come to a new place and not feel so alone .  going to the hard deck being able to head to a group and not being a loser sitting on her own .  also another thing she loved was being able to be herself especially with mickey probably only one of the group who shared her love for the things of the nerdy side of life .  the two would talk from everything from gaming , anime and comics . most of time the rest of the group left them to it because it was like they were talking another language.  They did like watching it unfold even bob made his peace at thought of his friend and little sister maybe striking up some form of romance . the only thing that was stopping them was well them , both oblivious to the other feelings that even stevie wonder could see .  so maybe a little help would be ok , a little meddling would be helpful and give them the push they needed . 

She was getting ready knowing the dagger squad coming over for a night of gaming  which honestly she didn’t think twice about  knowing it was probably going to be a few games of mario kart  til jake says it not real game like pool or darts when he loses.  She felt a little silly doing her make up and hair nothing major but she like looking nice especially when a certain hot as fuck WSO was going to be there . she couldn’t help the crush that grown , he was well hot , nerdy and a sweetheart she didn’t even stand a chance .  yet anytime she flirted it was falling on deaf ears or unless it was his way of being kind and not out right rejecting her but hey it didn’t help to look right?. 

He was nervous  , like hands sweating as he walked up his fellow WSO porch all because he had a major crush on his little sister . He didn’t even have an excuse the moment he saw her as Daenerys he was  smitten and the more time he spent time and got to know her  that just made him a goner. Never had he connected with someone  so easily  getting to truly be himself yeah payback was his buddy but even he had to tell mickey to talk about something else , y/n didn’t and when she did it was talked about some just along the line of it .    her smile took his breath away , her eyes made him get lost in them  just everything about her had him falling more and more.

Just as he was about to knock bob open the door stepping out looking at the man smiling nervously before walking around as if he was leaving .

“ wait is it not game night?” he checked his phone checking he had the right night unless he conjured the whole thing .

“ please don’t mess up cause hangman said he has dibs “ was all bob said before running to his car and driving off.

“ where’s he going “ she asked standing at front door brows furrowed .

“Think flying finally caught up to the guys i think they forgot tonight i can go if you want” he curse the lame stupid mind of his .

“ i mean or you could say and we could actually play something decent don’t get me wrong the italian plumber is cool but well it nice to play other game with more to em “ she smiled widely .

“ Or hear me out we can actually watch something we like “ .

“ star war marathon ?”

“ star wars “ he confirmed as two ran into the house excitedly .

Working in a team as she got the snacks and drink and he got the movie up and ready internally screaming to calm the fuck down . his hands so sweaty he was would drop the remote out of his hand and the way his heart was beating she had to of heard it . he felt like a nervous teen being in presence of his crush those nerves pulsing through every fiber his body making him shiver at possibly of making a huge fool of him .

“ you ok .. cold here let me get you a blanket “ those eyes filled with concern or worry making him melt like a puddle maybe it was good thing having her doting on him like this and her attention yet that made him notice that was always something he had. He wondered why that was but the though went as fast as it came the moment She sat down putting The blanket On the two of Them only then he notice the light were dimmed god he needed to get his shit together .

Maybe she was too close way to close , he could probably hear how hard her heart was beating or the way her breathing was labored. hopefully the movie would help distract her , let her gather herself . She watched the text coming on mouthing the lines she seen so many before only to hear the mumbling of said words making her head turn to see mickeys mouth moving she couldn't stop it the giggle that spilled from her lips making his cheeks heat up.

“ sorry” he winced .

“ no don't be it cute“ she whispered unaware her world had on him . the whole time she tried and really tried keeping her eyes on the screen but it was hopeless when they would drift and land on mickey . studying every feature on his face those kind eyes , to the chiseled jawline

“ does he know how hot he is” she thought only it seemed she was thinking out loud .

“ does who know?” .

“ em han solo of course” of course her brain would betray her .

“ i think he does” he chuckled . “ really han solo?” he teased .

“ yeah like you're not gonna drool when leia gets in that bikini” she shot back. “ That is my next cosplay idea” she mused only for him to choke on the air and internally thank whatever god there was a blanket was covering in now. “ wow that bad?” she joked .

“ oh quite the opposite i mean jesus you might kill some dude with heatstroke it will that hot “ he absent mindlessly confessed.

“ i think your being too kind” she snorted .

“ i’m being deadly honest hell have you seen yourself you make jake nervous not that he admit it out loud but shit you would send a guy into cardiac arrest” .

“ yeah ok says the hottest guy ever “ she scoffed only to freeze .

“ hottest guy ever ?” he didn't know were this confidence came from but shot was he gonna question it .

“ so hot id give a dude a heart attack ? “ she countered.

“ i stand by what i said “ he turned so he was facing her the movie long forgotten in the background .

“ i stand by what i said” she copied his movement turning to face him , eyes darting to his lips biting her own .

“ can i .. i wanna kiss you so bad right now” he licked hos lips hands itching to touch her skin .

“ i kinda hope you do “ she smiled softly. that was it that was the ok he needed to surge forward pressing his lips on her . every cliche that she read , seen or heard . those things she felt skeptical about made her want to kick herself cause as she felt herself kissing mickey garcia she understood it all , felt it all . those firework , puzzle piece coming to get , lighting her own dark world , nerve coming alive sort of moment , the soft moan that came muffled by each other . his hand nestled at back of her head and other on her hip pulling her closer her hand scratching the back of his neck . hating her lungs and their stupid need for oxygen she pulled back slightly her head pressed again his delighting in the turn about in the night as he couldn't stop like he was addicted between taking breathes plant soft kisses upon her lips . the kiss starting again more heated as she straddled his lap feeling him nipping her lower lip as she gave him the entrance they both needed , that twirl and dance feeling the taste of each in a tango while his hand fell her hips . her skin heated, burning in a desire that only he could quench . the need building in her core needing the friction she ground down that delightful feeling of him growing hard beneath her , hands guiding her movement panting foreheads pressed together eye locked. blown lust filled pupil and lidded eye mirror between the two as groan came from his mouth and whimpers spilled from her . he could feel that winding and tightening feeling that was building like all his sense on her . only her scent filled his nose , only her sounds filled his ears and one her touch was all that matter . he was addicted not knowing how he went so long in life and never feeling this , fuck he felt like he was robbed . in all that both so lost in a bubble of lust it was lost on them the sound of a key in a door not til they heard the “ Hell yeah” that broke the spell , burst that bubble as mickey looked to see the horrified face of some of dagger squad and proud smile on hangmans .

“maybe you should come stay in mine” nat winced turning and leading bob out the door as hangman walked over high fiving his friend as others gave an awkward wave as the front door closed .

“ they're gone” he whispered abd yet her head didnt lift her cheeks were to red at the fact her brother just caught her like a horny teenager dry humping and heavy petting one of his friends well she was definitely never going to live that down .

“ hey come on” he kissed her cheek hand rubbing up her back she let out content hum at the feeling before she sat up .

“ did this a little backwards but i would love take you out …on a date” he smiled shyly .

“ take me out for breakfast but first mickey … take me to bed” she giggled grinding her hips down . her shrieks filled the house with how fast he lift her up fuck it she already got caught might as well go big or go home as he carried her down the hall .

[pelideswhore]

timeline

@a-chaotic-dumbass @nysus-temple here it is!! also tagging @godsofhumanity because you said something about calydonian boar hunt which i mention ever so briefly. the links will take you to fics i have written about the aforementioned occurrence since i will shamelessly take any chance to plug my writing.

Telamon (22) kills his younger half-brother, so both he and Peleus (19) are exiled by their father. Peleus is taken in by his uncle and marries his cousin. He eventually joins the Calydonian Boar Hunt, and accidentally kills his uncle/father-in-law, resulting in his fleeing for a second time. In this second exile he is accused of attempted infidelity by the King’s wife, whom he shunned. The news reaches his own wife, who kills herself, leaving the throne of Pthia to him. The King chases Peleus for revenge, organizing an attack on him by centaurs on Mount Pelion. Chiron aids Peleus and saves his life. This whole fiasco takes 9 years to unfold.

Peleus’ (28) success during the Boar Hunt results in his marriage to Thetis. A year after the wedding, he joins Jason on the Argo. Thetis gives birth to 6 boys before Achilles is born but they all die in infancy.

Priam (27) and Hecuba (25) introduce Paris (0) into the world and almost immediately abandon him into the wild. So far they’ve had Hector (8), his sister (7), Deiphobus (5) and the twins Cassandra and Helenus (4)

4 years later, Achilles (0) is born and dunked in the Styx; Thetis then leaves Peleus (34).

Phoenix (35) gets exiled and comes Phthia because Peleus (35) is his friend, Achilles (1) is living with his dad, he and childless Phoenix bond.

Patroclus (8) kills his playmate over losing a game of petteia; his father sends him away, Peleus (40) empathizes and takes him in, Patroclus and Achilles (5) meet for the first time (ROUGH SEAS)

Menelaus (16) and Agamemnon (21) seek asylum in Sparta, Clytemnestra (14) is immediately infatuated by Agamemnon, Helen (14) not so much. Castor and Pollux (14) are interested in the stories they have to tell.

Agamemnon (22) leaves Sparta to overthrow Aegisthus (20) in Mycenae; he (23) returns to ask for Clytemnestra’s (16) hand in marriage but she’s already married. He kills Tantalus and son (<1) and gets engaged to her (BLOOD-RED HANDS).

Helen (16) gets kidnapped by Theseus about a month later, the Dioscuri (16) bring her back; Clytemnestra (16) and Agamemnon’s (23) wedding gets pulled forward despite the mourning period out of fear for Clytemnestra’s wellbeing and because she is displaying symptoms of pregnancy. Peleus (43) leaves Achilles (9) and Patroclus (12) to go on a military expedition to Troy with Hercules and Telamon (46). When he returns it’s all he talks about and Achilles becomes obsessed with the idea of Troy. Podarkes/Priam (40) earns his epithet when his father (65) gets killed, Hector (21) has his first experiences with war. Telamon takes Priam’s sister as a concubine and she births Teucer, Ajax is 14 at the time.

Helen (18) gets wed off to Menelaus (20). Odysseus (22) marries Penelope (20), Agamemnon (25) and Clytemnestra (18) already have Iphigenia (1) and she’s heavily pregnant (OLIVE TREE)

Achilles (11) gets sent to Charon as a method of education, by now he and Patroclus (14) are inseparable.

Achilles (13) comes back home from Charon and teaches Patroclus everything he learned.

Helen (25) leaves Sparta with Paris (22) (WATCH THE STARS COLLAPSE), Hector (30) freaks out (GATES OF TROY); Achilles (18) impregnates Deidamia (17); Odysseus (29), Agamemnon (32), and Menelaus (27) come and get him for war (SKYROS); Penelope (27) is left alone with Telemachus (1) (CRAZY FOR YOU) and Orestes (10) and Pylades (12) are sent to Sparta to stay with Hermione (6) for her protection.

Achilles (18) goes to Phthia, his father (52) gives him gifts and weapons, Achilles takes Patroclus (21) and Phoenix (52) with him (SAY YOU REMEMBER ME). At Aulis, Iphigenia (11) is brought in as a supposed bride for Achilles, but she is sacrificed (WEDDING ALTARS AND SACRIFICIAL SHRINES). Electra (10) and Chrysothemis (4) are now alone with their mother.

Achilles (25) kills Andromache’s (35) family and she flees to Troy, where she remeets Hector (37) whom she knows from 29 years prior. They get married and a year later Andromache gives birth to Scamandrius/Astyanax.