#Pre-Departure Briefings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbaz7 · 2 months ago

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FLIGHT 2136: PART 1

paige x azzi

word count: 4.7k

A/N: This is me attempting to continue a story that someone else started so there’s a little bit of 1st person at the beginning. The two of them don’t know each other in this universe 🫣 Let me know what you think and leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼

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1st Person POV - Tuesday

The morning light filtered through the windows of Ronald Reagan National Airport, casting a golden hue over the terminal. I walked with an easy confidence toward my gate, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air from the small kiosk in the corner.

My Delta flight to Hartford, Connecticut, was set to depart soon, and while most travelers shuffled impatiently in their boarding groups, I moved at my own pace, having the quiet privilege of a first-class ticket.

I wasn’t nervous for the trip to Harford. I never got nervous.

Traveling was second nature to me, and today was no exception. Adjusting the strap of my carry-on, I took a quick glance at my phone. Still good. The game wasn’t until Thursday, which meant I had more than enough time to settle in–explore Storrs a little before tip-off.

“Flight 2136 to Storrs, now boarding.”

As the flight crew called for first-class boarding, I stepped forward, handed over my ticket, and was waved through without a second glance. Within seconds, I was making my way down the jet bridge, the cool air-conditioning of the plane a nice contrast to the warmth of the terminal.

Seat 2A. Window. Perfect

I slid into the seat, stretching out with an appreciation for the extra space. The quiet hum of boarding announcements and the occasional shuffle of bags filled the cabin, but I was content. This was going to be a good trip. I’m making the right decision.

A movement beside me caught my attention. Someone slipped into the seat next to mine with an easy kind of grace. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but when she settled in, a sense of familiarity stirred in my chest, so I glanced over slightly.

Azzi Fudd. That’s ironic.

UConn’s star shooter. One of the most talented shooting guards in the country.

For a brief second, I considered saying nothing–letting her exist in peace for the duration of the flight. But then, why would I? Hesitation had never been my thing.

I turned toward her, offering a small but confident smile. “Good morning.”

She glanced over, her expressions polite but neutral, clearly used to traveling alone. “Good morning.”

Leaning back, I let my posture speak for itself–relaxed and effortless. “What’s got you flying to Connecticut on this random Tuesday?”

She let out a soft chuckle, as if the answer should have been obvious. “I go to school there. Was visiting family for a few days.”

I nodded, letting the moment stretch just enough to spark curiosity before adding, “I’m flying in for the game on Thursday.”

This caught her attention. Her head tilted slightly, and she gave me a curious look.

I let the silence linger, enjoying the moment before saying. “I hope you have a great game, Azzi Fudd.”

A small, almost shy smile crossed her lips, her guard lowering just a fraction. “You know who I am?”

I held her gaze. “Yeah, I know who you are.” Then I smiled softly.

She studied me for a second longer, as if trying to piece something together, before letting out a quiet chuckle and turning her attention forward.

Still, I could tell she was thinking about our exchange. I’d seen that look a few times before–the subtle mix of curiosity and amusement. The kind that said, Who is this person?

Which is nice. Something about her not recognizing me made me smile internally. Made a lot of questions fly through my head.

The flight attendants moved through first class, offering pre-departure drinks. I opted for water and Azzi did the same. The cabin was filling up quickly, the sounds of rolling luggage, hushed conversations, and the occasional overhead bin slamming shut blending into the usual pre-flight chaos.

As the final passengers trickled in, I glanced at her again. She was settled comfortably, dressed in a UConn hoodie and joggers, her hair pulled back. Even here, in an airport, getting ready to go 30,000 feet in the air, she carried herself like a top athlete–poised, confident, focused.

Eventually the engine rumbled to life as we pushed back from the gate. I kept my gaze ahead, but I could feel her sneaking quick glances in my direction, still trying to figure me out.

Finally, she spoke.

“So, are you a UConn fan, or…?”

I smirked, turning toward her just slightly. “I just respect greatness.”

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “That’s not really an answer.”

“Sure it is.” I leaned back in my seat. “I appreciate good basketball. UConn typically plays good basketball.”

She considered my words, then nodded, satisfied with my response–for now.

“You from Connecticut?” she asked, shifting slightly to face me better.

“Nope.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you’re flying in just for the game?”

I nodded. “Yeah something like that.”

“Must be a big game for you to make the trip.”

I shrugged. “It’s basketball and it’s UConn. It should be a good game. Why shouldn’t I?”

She smiled again, this time more openly. “I like that answer.”

I smiled softly, letting my gaze linger for a moment longer before looking away.

The plane started its ascent, leveling off the ground. So I pulled out my phone, flipping through my playlist, but I could feel her still looking at me, still wondering.

I let the silence stretch a little longer before glancing at her. "You always sit next to people who know exactly who you are, or am I just lucky?"

Azzi laughed at that, shaking her head. "This is definitely a first."

"Glad I could make your morning interesting."

She tilted her head slightly, as if she was debating something, then asked, "So what's your story? You a journalist? A scout? Former player?"

I chuckled. "You tell me. What do I look like?"

She squinted, pretending to analyze me. "Hmm... not a journalist. You don't have that nosy energy and you aren’t leading the conversation much."

I smirked. "Good start."

"Not a scout either. You're too relaxed."

"Keep going."

She tapped her fingers on the armrest. "Former player?"

I gave a small shrug. "Something like that."

Azzi gives me a curious look so I simply add, “Tore my ACL.”

Azzi nods at this, a few thoughts flickering across her face, before she decides to be satisfied with the answer, even though I hadn't really given her a complete one.

For a while, we just sat there, the quiet hum of the plane filling the space between us. It wasn't an awkward silence-it was comfortable, like two people who had met at just the right time, in just the right way.

Eventually, she glanced over again. "Since you know who I am, do I get to know who you are?”

I turned toward her, meeting her gaze with a confident ease. "You'll figure it out."

She let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "Mysterious huh."

I grinned. "I try."

She didn't press further, but I could tell she wanted to. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, arms crossed loosely, a thoughtful look on her face. The rest of the flight stretched ahead of us, and something told me this conversation was far from over.

The flight had settled into a steady hum, the initial rush of takeoff giving way to a quiet cruise above the clouds. I let my head rest lightly against the seat, simply watching the muted sunlight filter through the window as I got lost in my thoughts.

After a while, I reached into my bag and pulled out a book, flipping it open to where I’d left off. The familiar weight in my hands was comforting, and I easily lost myself in the rhythm of the words.

A few minutes passed before I felt it–that subtle sensation of being watched. I didn’t reach right away, just kept reading, letting the moment stretch. But sure enough, when I shifted slightly, I caught Azzi glancing at the pages from the corner of my eye.

I turned another page, pretending not to notice, until she finally spoke.

“Not many people our age read these days.”

A small smirk tugged at my lips as I glanced up, amusement flickering in my eyes. “Our age?”

Azzi shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “Yeah. You carry yourself a certain way. Too confident to be young, but definitely not old.”

I chuckled at that, licking my slightly dry lips before I titled my head. “Twenty-two.”

Azzi nodded, like she had just proven a point. “Exactly.”

Something about the way she said it–so certain, so sure–made me grin. I let the moment linger for a beat before turning back to my book, the words on the page suddenly a little less interesting than the person sitting next to me.

Azzi had gone quiet again, but I could tell her mind was still turning.

She was debating something, mulling it over like a question she couldn’t shake. I went back to my book, letting the silence settle, but it didn’t last long.

“Okay, I’m sorry—I can’t help it,” she finally said, exhaling a quiet laugh. “I need some more answers from you.”

I arched a brow, slightly amused at her behavior, before slipping my bookmark into place and setting the book down on my lap. Adjusting slightly, I leaned against the window, fully turning my attention to her now.

Azzi met my gaze for a brief moment, her brown eyes flickering with something unreadable when they met my blue ones before she blinked away breaking the eye contact as she shifted just enough to regain composure.

“I’m usually not much of a talker,” she admitted.

I tilted my head slightly, a small smile playing at my lips. “But?”

Azzi exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe herself right now. “But you know who I am, and you’re flying in for the game on Thursday. That seems like the universe trying to tell me something. Like I should talk to you more.”

I laughed at that. “God works in mysterious ways.”

That made her smile. “So you’re religious?”

“I am.”

Azzi nodded, taking that in, before grinning. “You’re a woman of few words.”

I chuckled. “I’m not much of a talker these days.”

Azzi picked up on that instantly. “These days?”

Her curiosity was sharp, intentional. She seemed to pick up on little things that most people didn’t. I met her gaze again, letting the words settle between us before answering.

“Things kinda just happen in life that change how you used to be,” I said simply, my voice carrying something quieter. Then, with a small, almost nostalgic smile, I added, “I used to be a chatterbox.”

Azzi studied me for a moment, then exhaled a soft chuckle. “I see you’ve opted for more of the mysterious route these days.”

I smirked. “Something like that.”

She hummed, shifting slightly in her seat. “How much do you know about me, exactly?”

That question made me grin. I could tell she was fishing, trying to gauge just how much of her life I’d kept tabs on if any.

“I just follow basketball,” I said smoothly, tilting my head slightly. “I don’t know much about you specifically… if that makes you feel better.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, a smile tugging at her lips. “I never said I felt bad about it.”

That made me squint slightly, studying her. There was something playful in the way she said it, like she was testing the waters, waiting to see how I’d respond.

After a beat, I nodded. “Fair.”

Azzi held my gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes before she finally looked away, exhaling softly. She drummed her fingers against the armrest, like she was debating whether to keep pressing or let it go.

I figured she would drop it, but then she glanced back at me. “So, if you just follow basketball, that means you’re a fan of the game itself—not necessarily the players?”

I smirked slightly. “That’s what I said.”

Azzi hummed, shifting in her seat so she was angled toward me again. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite team?”

I chuckled at that. “You want the real answer or the diplomatic one?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, so there’s a wrong answer?”

“More like one that might bruise your ego a little.”

Azzi let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Now I have to know.”

I leaned back, letting the suspense build for a second before finally answering, “I’ve always been a South Carolina fan.”

Azzi made a face at this answer. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

I laughed. “I warned you.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You had me thinking the universe was setting something up here, and then you hit me with that.”

I smirked. “Didn’t realize this was a dealbreaker.”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to think. “I guess I’ll allow it.

I let out a soft laugh, nodding. “That’s generous of you.”

She grinned but didn’t say anything for a moment, just studying me again, like she was still trying to piece something together. Then, finally, she asked, “So… do you still play?”

I ran my fingers along the edge of my book, considering my response. “Yeah. Just not this season.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “Because of the ACL?”

I gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

She exhaled softly, like she understood exactly what that felt like. “That sucks.”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

Azzi tilted her head, studying me again. “What position?”

“Point guard.”

She grinned slightly. “Figures.”

I raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi smirked. “You carry yourself like one.”

I chuckled, shaking my head a little. “And how exactly does a point guard carry themselves?”

She shrugged. “Like they’re always in control. Always seeing two steps ahead of everyone else.”

I hummed, amused. “Insightful.”

Azzi leaned back in her seat, a knowing look in her eyes. “I have my moments.”

I let the moment stretch between us, then smirked. “You’re not wrong, though.”

She smiled, like she already knew that. “Figured.”

After this Azzi kept the conversation going, steering it effortlessly. She asked about my recovery, how long I’d been in D.C., and what I thought of UConn’s season so far. I answered when necessary, but mostly, I let her take the lead, watching how she engaged—curious, thoughtful, but never overbearing. It was easy, the kind of conversation that didn’t require effort.

At some point, the captain’s voice crackled through the speakers, announcing our descent into Hartford. The mood between us shifted—not awkward, just quieter, like we both knew whatever this was, this easy back-and-forth, would soon come to an end.

The plane touched down smoothly, and after taxiing for a few minutes, the seatbelt sign flicked off. Azzi and I stood almost at the same time, and for the first time, she actually noticed my height.

Her gaze flickered upward, just slightly. Not by much—maybe an inch and a half, two at most—but enough for her to register it. I saw the way she took in the difference, her eyes narrowing just a little before she smirked to herself.

I grabbed my carry-on from the overhead, and just as I was about to step aside, an older woman across the aisle struggled to pull down her own bag. Before I could think twice, I reached up, easily grabbing it for her and setting it down with a polite smile.

Azzi was already in front of me, but I caught the way she paused, how her eyes flicked toward my arm. It wasn’t much, but I knew what she saw—how the muscles, usually understated, tensed for just a second, giving away what I was in fact an athlete.

She didn’t say anything, but there was something in the way she blinked, like she was filing that detail away.

I smirked slightly. “See something interesting?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “Just confirming my suspicions.”

I let out a quiet chuckle, grabbing my bag as we started moving down the aisle. “And what suspicions are those?”

She looked forward again, shaking her head like she wasn’t about to give me the satisfaction of an answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I huffed a small laugh, following her off the plane. “You have no idea.”

As we filtered out into the terminal, the steady hum of airport chatter surrounded us. The moment was nearing its natural end, both of us instinctively moving in different directions. I adjusted my bag, glancing ahead when Azzi suddenly slowed, turning back toward me.

“Alright,” she said, her voice light but pointed. “Can I finally get your name?”

I exhaled through my nose, pretending to consider it for a moment before cracking a small smile. “Paige.”

Azzi repeated it softly, like she was testing how it sounded. Then, her smile grew. “Paige.”

I nodded.

Her eyes flickered with something—curiosity, maybe. “Where are you sitting Thursday, Paige?”

I huffed a quiet laugh, shifting my weight slightly. “You’ll see me, don’t worry.”

Azzi let out a laugh of her own, shaking her head. “Mysterious until the end, huh?”

I smirked.

She took a small step back, still holding my gaze. “Alright then. I hope I see you Thursday, Paige.”

“See you Thursday, Azzi.”

I turned first, heading toward baggage claim, but I could still feel her eyes on me for just a second longer before she finally walked away.

3rd Person POV - Wednesday

The low hum of conversation filled the diner, a cozy spot just off campus. The kind of place where students and locals alike came for a quick, unpretentious meal. Azzi sat alone in a corner booth, her food pushed slightly to the side as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone between bites of her sandwich. She had just finished practice, still dressed in a UConn hoodie and sweats, her legs stretched comfortably under the table as she enjoyed the serenity of being alone after a long day.

The bell above the door jingled as another customer walked in. Azzi didn’t look up at first, too focused on her own space, but a shift in the atmosphere made her glance toward the entrance.

Paige.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard for a second. Paige moved through the diner with the same confidence she had on the plane–unhurried, assured, like she was exactly where she was meant to be. When their eyes met, a small smirk tugged at Paige’s lips as she adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and changed direction, walking toward Azzi’s booth without hesitation.

Azzi leaned back slightly, watching as Paige came to a stop at the edge of the table.

“Didn’t take you for a diner person,” Paige said, tilting her head as she glanced down at Azzi.

Azzi quirked a brow. “And what exactly did you take me for then?”

Paige exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Not sure yet.”

Azzi let out a small laugh at that, shaking her head. She gestured toward the other side of the booth. “Since you seem curious, you might as well sit.”

Paige didn’t hesitate to take the invitation, sliding into the seat across from her. The air between them felt the same as it had on the plane—slightly charged, neither of them in a rush to give too much away.

For a moment, Azzi just observed her. The dim lighting of the diner softened Paige’s sharp features, but there was still something unreadable about her, a layer just beneath the surface that Azzi wanted to press into.

“So,” Azzi started, fingers tapping lightly against her cup, “what brings you here?”

Paige leaned back, resting an arm on the top of the booth. “Needed some food and this was near my hotel. Didn’t expect to run into you if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

Azzi gave her a look. “Didn’t expect, or you don’t mind?”

Paige smirked slightly, neither confirming nor denying. Instead, she nodded toward Azzi’s half-eaten sandwich. “That any good?”

Azzi shrugged. “It’s a sandwich.”

“Helpful.” Paige snorted, glancing toward the menu.

Azzi studied her for a second before speaking again. “So, you gonna tell me where you’re sitting tomorrow, or are you still trying to be mysterious?”

Paige grinned. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I told you.”

Azzi shook her head, amused. “You really don’t give anything away, do you?”

Paige’s smile softened, but there was something thoughtful in her expression. “Not much to give these days.”

Azzi caught that phrasing again—these days. She let it settle between them for a moment before leaning forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table.

“You’re interesting, you know that?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “That a compliment?”

Azzi mirrored her expression. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly. “You haven’t decided if you’re complimenting me?”

Azzi opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the server appeared at the table setting a water down. The girl gave Paige a once-over, her gaze lingering a lot longer than necessary. It wasn’t subtle, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Paige blinked, raising an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

The waiter, undeterred, flashed a grin and asked flirtatiously, “What can I get for you?”

Paige tilted her head slightly. “I’ll just have what she has.”

The waiter jotted it down, her eyes flicking back to Paige, clearly intrigued. “I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said, voice tinged with interest. “I would’ve remembered a face like that.”

Paige gave a tight, polite smile. “I’m not from here. Just visiting.”

The server hummed thoughtfully, clearly trying to piece something together, before she walked off with a final lingering glance.

Azzi watched the whole interaction with mild amusement, eyes flicking to Paige’s expression. Once the server was out of earshot, Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You certainly have a way of leaving an impression.”

Paige shrugged, leaning back in her seat again, her lips curling up into a faint smile. “Guess it’s a talent.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that. “A talent, huh? I’m starting to see why you don’t need to talk much... you let people do it for you.”

Paige’s smile softened slightly as she shifted in her seat, taking a moment before responding. “It’s easier that way. Sometimes.”

Azzi leaned back, propping her chin up in one hand. “And what makes it easier?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to Azzi, as if weighing whether or not to answer. There was something about her, something quiet but intense that made Azzi lean in just a little closer, her curiosity growing.

Finally, Paige shrugged slightly. “Not everyone needs to know everything.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that your way of saying I won’t get the whole story?”

Paige chuckled softly, meeting her gaze. “I didn’t say that. May it’s just not the right time yet.”

Azzi didn’t push. Instead, she just smiled, amused by the game they were starting to play.

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Azzi said, leaning back as she crossed her arms with a grin. “Maybe I'll try to get you to talk tomorrow.”

Paige shot her a look, her lips curling into something a little more playful. “Yeah maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Azzi let the words hang between them for a moment, her grin deepening. “I think I like my odds.”

Paige only hummed, picking up her water and taking a sip. “Do you?”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, studying her. “You don’t seem like the type to say things you don’t mean.”

Paige set her cup down, her expression unreadable. “And what type do I seem like?”

Azzi’s gaze flickered over her, deliberate but not too obvious. “Still figuring that out.”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “That why you keep asking so many questions?”

Azzi smirked. “Something like that.”

Paige tapped her fingers against the table. “And here I thought you were just being friendly.”

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her voice light. “Maybe I am Paige.”

Paige arched a brow, but before she could respond, the waiter appeared, setting down her plate.

“Here you go,” the waiter said, her tone lingering as she looked at Paige with clear interest. “Can I get you anything else gorgeous?”

Paige offered a polite but tight smile. “No, thank you.”

The waiter hesitated just a second too long before finally nodding and stepping away.

Azzi, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, took a slow sip of her drink. “You make friends fast.”

Paige picked up her sandwich, glancing at Azzi with a smirk. “You jealous?”

Azzi exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “Not even a little.”

Paige chuckled, digging into her food. “Good. I’d hate for that to be another thing you had to figure out.”

Azzi’s gaze lingers on Paige for a moment before she speaks again, her tone smooth but laced with something playful. “So, you’re telling me there’s a chance?”

Paige picks up her fork, raising an eyebrow. “A chance for what exactly?”

Azzi shrugs, pretending to be casual. “For me to get some answers out of you tomorrow.”

Paige pauses briefly, just enough for the words to settle, before taking a bite of her food. “Didn’t say that.”

Azzi watches her, amusement flickering in her eyes. “But you didn’t say there wasn’t.”

Paige smirks slightly but doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a direct answer. Instead, she gestures toward Azzi’s plate. “You done with that?”

Azzi leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Trying to change the subject?”

Paige shrugs, blue eyes glinting a little. “Just figured you might be too busy trying to figure me out to actually eat.”

Azzi lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I can multitask.”

Paige tilts her head slightly, as if assessing her. “Good to know.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a second longer than necessary, a quiet challenge passing between them, before Paige finally breaks eye contact to take another bite. Azzi smirks to herself, leaning back against the booth.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering over Paige with something unreadable behind them. “You’re really hard to get a read on.”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, tearing off a small piece of her sandwich. “That’s funny. You seem to be doing just fine.”

Azzi smirked. “Am I?”

Paige shrugged, popping the bite into her mouth. “You tell me.”

Azzi watched her for a moment before shaking her head with an amused smile. “You like making people work for it, don’t you?”

Paige leaned back slightly. “Depends on the person.”

Azzi hummed at that, tapping her fingers against the table. “And what about me?”

Paige didn’t answer right away, just let the moment hang between them before finally saying, “Guess you’ll have to figure that out Azzi.”

Azzi exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t make anything easy, do you?”

Paige smirked. “Where’s the fun in easy?”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but then her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then let out a small sigh. “Alright, I gotta get going.”

That’s when she reached for her wallet, and Paige immediately waved her off. "I got it. Don’t worry about it."

“I can't let you do that."

Paige met her gaze, smirking. "Azzi, it’s a sandwich. Ten dollars won’t kill me."

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Fine, but I’m getting it next time."

Paige arched a brow. "Next time?"

Azzi pushed up from the booth, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah, next time." She adjusted her jacket before glancing at Paige one last time. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Paige."

Paige watched her for a second before nodding. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Azzi."

Just as Azzi turned to leave, Paige called out, "Hey, Azzi."

Azzi stopped, looking back with a curious expression. "Hm?"

Paige hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words before saying, "I need you to be open-minded tomorrow, okay?"

Azzi’s brows furrowed slightly, intrigue flickering across her face. She studied Paige for a beat, noticing the subtle seriousness in her expression, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

A small smile crossed Paige’s lips. "Thanks."

Azzi returned the smile before stepping back. "Bye, Paige."

Paige watched her leave, tapping her fingers lightly against the table, a thoughtful look settling in her eyes before she went back to eating her sandwich.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

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Under The Mistletoe | John Marino

summary: john can't help but keep his hands off you, resulting in a very scandalous christmas party sneak off.

[word count] 5.4k

a/n: welcome to the 3rd fic of cute and hughesy’s christmas special! this was so fun to write and i’m so excited for you all to read it - let the john girlies feast 🥰 thank you to this request - you are my inspo ✨🎄

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

there was something in the air tonight - something besides the warm, comforting smell and sounds of the christmas season. it was a lingering feeling, laced with sultry and sweet undertones, and it was all due to your boyfriend john marino.

you and john met the literal day he'd first come to new jersey following his departure from the penguins. the day started like any normal one for you, which consisted of waking up late and rushing around your tiny apartment to make it to work. you had been not long out of college - graduated with a sports journalism degree- and had landed a job working behind the scenes with the devils administration team.

like every other time you'd get into work, busy with finishing the previous days work on your phone and not paying attention to your surroundings, ran into john - knocking your phone right out of your hand and almost knocking you onto your ass. but like the gentleman you've learned your boyfriend is, he saved you from the embarrassment of falling and grabbed ahold of your arm to prevent the tumble. and like the complete romantic you are, you blushed and instantly developed a crush on the new member of the new jersey devils.

it didn't take long for you and john to start dating - I mean, neither of you were shy about your feelings or intentions with one another. you wanted to date him and he certainly wanted to date you - case closed. your relationship blossomed quickly, and you found yourselves completely and sickly enamoured with one another. your personalities perfectly complemented one another, and so did your values and priorities. it was perfect - is perfect.

you'd quickly fallen into one another's routines and traditions- forming one big and complete circle that you wouldn't trade in for the world. you knew john was your person, so when the trade to utah came, there was no other choice than to go with him.

leaving your parents and friends back in jersey was hard, especially around the holidays, but with john and his sweet and reassuring smile at your side, you've been able to properly prepare yourself for that missing piece of holiday magic you’d left back home.

one of your favourite christmas traditions of hosting a christmas party was something else you'd been upset about missing, and you had been frowning about it since the calendar changed to december 1st. but, in some miraculous fashion, john said the guys on the team were wondering if you and him wanted to host the utah party - and obviously you jumped off the couch and shrieked a yes.

which brings you back to the cinnamon scented kitchen of your and johns utah apartment, adding the finishing cheeses, meats, nuts, crackers and other miscellaneous foods to your wooden santa shaped charcuterie board.

you pull away once you perfectly placed the last green olive, perfectly shaping the olives into a holiday wreath pattern in the middle of the board, and you smile and hum triumphantly.

the house is filled with only the sound of the hum of a new megan moroney christmas song, mixed into your holiday party playlist. nobody has showed their faces yet, but you weren't expecting them until 7 - so that makes sense.

your wipe your hands against one another, saved from rather wiping the crumbs off on your curve hugging trousers. you've paired the black pants with a festive shade top, accompanied with your favourite gold jewelry and snowman socks - because comfort mattered. your smile doesn't falter as you glance at the digital clock on the front of your microwave and- oh shit, it's almost 7.

you feel yourself start to bubble with a hosting panic, frantically double checking all your picky food trays to ensure they looked presentable, and making sure respective drinks were in the fridge - including your white wine that you, as well as marissa kerfoot, preferred chilled.

just then, the sound of johns socked feet pad into the entryway of your shared kitchen. the floor creaks right where you pass into the living room, and the loud noise has you jumping slightly - your anxious adrenaline off the roof.

"looks great babe." johns voice is a soothing hum as he leans against the archway, his gaze overlooking the array of food on your long dining room table.

you pick up the last tray you'd been working on and shuffle over towards the table, placing the santa board in the middle of everything. you knaw your lip anxiously, and look over towards your boyfriend with questioning eyes. "are you sure? not too much?"

john analyzes you quickly and subtly - so much so that you're not even aware that he's assessing your body language. without saying anything yet, john walks over to you with practiced ease, and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you up against his chest gently.

you allow your boyfriend to move you easily, enjoying the domestic peace that always comes with johns presence. your anxiety about wanting to host the perfect holiday party for johns teammates and their significant others subsides as he starts to stroke along your spine with his thumb, and his easy smile comes as beautiful distraction.

"don't stress," john breathes, continuing his rhythmic movements against your back. "everybody is going to be so impressed with your gouda display."

you're still not convinced, and your eyes fall back towards the table as you check over everything for the hundredth time - your boyfriends joke going right over your head. john sighs gently, because he knows once you get into your own head, it can be hard to get you back out.

he leans down and presses a firm kiss to the junction of your neck. johns lips are warm and soft, and the feeling has your eyes fluttering closed with pleasure. he moves farther up your neck, continuing to kiss and gently suck along your scented skin - your vanilla perfume setting comfortably in johns senses.

to further his attempt at what seemingly feels like trying to distract you, johns hands snake down your lower back, passing over the round of your ass before taking a handful of flesh, squeezing you with his long fingers.

which brings you back to the lingering tension through your apartment - the desire and poised touches from john all coming back to you.

john has been very handsy with you all day. which isn't necessarily odd for him, because your boyfriend has always been flirty and touchy with you - but today specifically was amped up to another level. it started in the morning while you were both brushing your teeth and john couldn't help but grind his morning wood into your backside. it continued throughout the morning and into the afternoon, with john always touching you with his hands and/or mouth - your neck, your waist, your thighs, you ass, your tits - anything john could get his grip on, he would.

"think we can fuck quick before people start arriving?" johns words are rushed and muffled against your jawbone in between sloppy kisses. his breathy question has you blushing a deep red, matching the shade of your shirt.

a knock on the door echoes throughout the apartment, followed by the roudy laughter of some of johns teammates - you can even hear the muffled voice of clayton keller telling them all to behave.

you pull away from john. "don't think so."

—

johns wandering hands continued throughout the night, even with an apartment filled with your new friends and teammates - he didn't care and their possible wandering eyes didn't stop john from touching all up on you. anytime you'd step away to prep more food in the kitchen, or make sure everything was still somewhat neat and in an organized manner on the dining table, your boyfriend wasn't far behind you.

as you're crumbling more feta for another bowl of greek salad (a house favourite), john pressed into you from behind, his arms enclosing around your torso as he suckles and nibbles below your jaw.

"you smell so good." john says against your skin, lips tickling along the shell of your ear. you giggle at the feeling, slipping out of his grasp and opening the refrigerator.

"johnny..." you warn him gently, hands enclosing on the head of iceberg lettuce and bringing it out of the fridge. you close the door with your hip before making your way back to john - who is still lingering by your cutting board and empty salad bowl. "you can't do that right now."

it seemed that anytime you'd pass through the archway that separates the hallway from the living space of your apartment - constantly checking everything is neat and organized around your home - john would be there, constantly reminding you that the archway was decorated in a beautiful garland with a dangling display of mistletoe.

john, completely unbothered by his teammates and their wives and girlfriends all around you, wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you from escaping. he waggles his eyebrows down at you, smiling sneakily. "looks like we are under the mistletoe."

you give him a deadpan look. you can't tell if you're annoyed or amused by his constant attempt's at kissing you - but with the faux innocent look on his face combined with his rosy cheeks and glimmering gaze, you're sure it's the latter.

you sigh gently, but pucker your lips at him. it's a silent invitation for your boyfriend, and the sight has his grin deepening. john leans down, connecting your lips in a seemingly innocent peck.

but, you're wrong. john's hand slides up towards your face, grabbing ahold of your warm cheek to keep you in place. his tongue slides along your plump lip, asking for entrance and attempting to deepen the kiss.

someone who sounds like liam o'brien cat calls you from a few feet away, which starts a chain affect in which the rest of johns teammates start hollering at you both. you laugh against johns kiss - which he still hasn't attempted to stop, and gently push off his chest, but not without a playful smack against his peck first, serving as a scold.

you would even catch john watching you from across the room anytime he wasn't attempting to cop a feel. his eyes were darker than usual, and you could see that even with the distance between you - practically undressing you with his eyes while jack mcbain talks about his new dog.

you flick your hand in his direction, a dismissive motion as if you're telling john to stop and pay attention. it has your boyfriends smirk growing, hiding it behind the rim of his can.

you flush deeply, all too familiar with the sultry gaze in johns eyes. you clear your throat, taking a sip of your white wine as you turn your attention back towards some of the ladies, easily sliding back into the conversation about countertops and cabinet colours.

it's not 20 minutes later that your phone alerts you that it's on low battery, and without wanting to risk forgetting to plug it in before falling asleep, you go to plug it in.

you excuse yourself from the group conversation in your kitchen, hovering over the sandwich platter, and slip down the hall - quickly ascending up the small set of stairs that leads to the upstairs hallway. one of the main reasons you and john chose this apartment specifically was because of the size and layout of the place, and you loved how it felt like a mini home rather than a bachelor pad style apartment.

you softly close the door, but don't properly latch it, leaving a small gap of light between the mahogany wood and the matching door frame. you pad towards your side of the bed where the charging cable is dangling over your beside table, and plug the end into your dangerously low phone.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the noise has you jumping in surprise, spinning on your heels quickly to find the source of the sound. you should've known immediately who would've followed you upstairs, the sight of johns seductive, but still boyish grin looking back at you.

with a hand held to your beating chest, you exhale - the sound a mixture of adrenaline and laughter. "jesus, babe. you scared me."

"sorry." he chuckles. the sound of the lock turning is a very faint click in your ears, and immediately you know what he's up to. john moves towards you, his sneaky grin still tugging at his lips, and gently takes your palms in his.

john guides you towards the bed, and once the pit of his knees hit the edge of the plush mattress, he sits down. you stay standing, just watching your boyfriend with an unimpressed quirk to your eyebrow. john's legs spread, and he's immediately pulling you into him further, keeping you close. his fingers trail off your palms and slowly find their way up your legs and hips, settling over the waistband of your pants.

john gently squeezes your torso, right against the seam of the pants, and tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes wonder over your body, drinking in every curve, bump, amd fleshy round. "fuck." he breathes the curse, his hands slipping around until he can grab onto your ass, squeezing it firmly. "you look so sexy today."

you squint at him accusingly, "we can't start john - people are here."

johns brows come together tightly. "screw my teammates - I wanna fuck my girl." his words send your stomach into a whirlwind of cartwheels and somersaults, making you feel warm and fuzzy. you flush a deep maroon, and you find yourself mirroring john, taking your lip between your teeth and gently nibbling.

to accentuate his words, john's then lifting the hem of your top up, exposing your belly and the bottom of your wired bra. he leans in and begins to kiss along the expanse of your skin, delicately marking and tickling your sensitive tummy.

you breathe a pleasant hum, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of your boyfriends mouth on you without the constant worry and fear of feeling exposed or getting caught. behind your locked door, it's just you and john with no prying eyes or ears. your hands slide up your boyfriends biceps and up around his shoulders, gripping the strong muscles to keep your knees from buckling.

john's mouth detaches from your stomach, and he rest his chin gently between your boobs, looking up at you with a hopeful and mischievous glint in his eyes. with his thumbs stroking your rib cage, occasionally teasing you by slipping them underneath the wire of your bra and grazing your tits, john quirks his eyebrow in question. "please sweet girl, I can't go another second without sinking into your pussy."

you shutter pleasantly at his words, letting yourself feel the butterflies all over your body flutter around - sending tingles and small shock waves through your system. quickly, your eyes bounce back towards the locked door - making sure nobody was looking for you or john or lingering in the hallway.

nobody is there.

with a reluctant nod, you whisper okay. "we have to be quick though."

johns grin widens. "oh trust me, i've been half hard since you walked out of the closet in these pants - I can't wait to take them off." with his words, john grabs the back of your thighs, pulling you onto the bed. your knees rest against each side of his muscular thighs, effectively straddling him.

the pull in your inner thighs is a slight burning sensation, but it's also so so good. your clothed pussy nestles perfectly on johns hard on, and instinctively you begin to grind against him, your body already searching for that release. john groans, pulling your face back in for a kiss. it's a heated exchange, with a mixture of careless spit and teeth, your lips moving together frantically and knowingly. it's messy and hot - perfectly crafted to further turn you both on.

johns fully hard underneath his jeans, providing the perfect stimulation to your throbbing clit and sticky entrance. you can already feel the wetness pooling in your thin underwear, and so can john, your pants doing nothing at hiding the damp mess leaking through the fabric and transferring to his jeans.

without wanting to wait any longer, john's grasp on your body tightens as he prepares to move you both, flipping you over and onto you back. you squeak at the sudden movement, your lips disconnecting for your boyfriends as you push yourself further up the bed.

john is soon back over you, hovering on top of you heavily. the press is intoxicating, and makes the thrill of the whole thing so much more intense. "I wanna taste you."

you shake your head, breathy as you remind him, "no - we have to be fast."

"I don't care." with that, he tugs your pants down with practiced ease, revealing your bare legs and soaked underwear. john throws your pants behind him, landing somewhere on your bedroom floor - you're sure you'll probably struggle to find them after. "need to taste you."

your thighs part automatically, already anticipating the upcoming actions that your boyfriend is about to perform on your body. john smirks as he settles onto his belly between your legs, and his hands immediately wrap around the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread.

over your wet underwear, john leans down and presses a lingering kiss on your clothed clit. you watch him breathlessly, and your hips buck upwards in search of more friction.

he smirks quickly before going back in, licking a flat strip against the sheer material of your tiny panties, his tongue dragging from your dripping entrance and back up to your swollen clit.

"fuck, johnny please." you whine, fingers carding through his curly hair. you tug his roots as john's tongue swirls over your clit, the combination of your underwear and his tongue providing a rather powerful amount of stimulation.

john let's go of one of your legs in favour of reaching for the seam of your underwear, roughly tugging the string to the side and exposing your glistening pussy fully. your boyfriend audibly groans at the sight of your slick folds and the aroma of your arousal, and he quickly dives back in, his tongue dipping into your entrance to collect your wetness before he firmly licks back upwards to your tingling bundle of nerves.

you borderline scream, and your head falls back into the fluffy pillows as you're no longer able to watch as john eats you out - feeling too fragile to keep yourself up right. he's always been so good at pleasing you with his mouth - knowing the perfect combination of licking, sucking, and teeth that never fails to bring you to the finish line.

against you, john moans and the sound vibrates through you deliciously. when he adds two of his calloused, skillful fingers into the mix, sliding them with ease into your dripping entrance, you just about pass out. you cover your mouth with a shaky hand, muffling the sounds of your mewls - eyes downcast to once again watch john pleasure you.

his eyes flicker up your body, finding your gaze. your pure flushed and blissed expression has him even more turned on, subtly grinding his aching cock into your shared mattress as he continues to hold your thighs open, lapping up your juices and plunging his digits into your hole.

john release your clit with a gentle pop, a thin string of spit mixed with your arousal trailing between his puffy mouth and your pussy. it's all so erotic and sneaky, and the sight has you approaching very quickly to your boiling point. "you 'gunna cum for me sweet girl? can feel you flutterin' around my fingers baby - fuck."

you nod once, "yes - oh my god keep doing that."

john doesn't need to be told twice, and he goes back down on you, suckling on your clit - swirling his tongue and moving it over and around your bundle just the way you need him to. it's not long before you're snapping, clenching down on johns fingers as you cum, dripping onto the bedding as you release rushes out of you.

he hums in satisfaction against you, beginning to slow his stimulation on your throbbing pussy - helping you ride out your high with sweet and comforting movements and kisses against you.

finally, you feel yourself come back to reality, breathing heavily in the quietness of your shared bedroom - nothing but the wet noise of john slipping his fingers out of your heat and the muffled conversation of the party floating up the stairs. "fuck."

john crawls back up your body, his boyish grin pulling at his lips, still glistening with your release. "good?" he questions cockily, one of his brows quirked a knowing raise.

you grin lightly, cheeks flushed. "you know it was."

he licks his bottom lip gently, because he knows he's being cocky - but john also knows that you love it. he leans down, attaching your lips in another hot and bruising kiss. you can taste yourself lingering on his tongue - that slightly sweet but almost salty flavour that john loves so much invading your tastebuds.

you pull away with a smirk. "I wanna ride you. i'm aching for it johnny."

he quirks a brow. "look who's aching now?"

"shut up." you laugh through your scold, gently shoving johns shoulders so he gets off you. contradictory to his words, you can feel his rock hard cock bobbing against your inner thigh, a reminder that he hasn't yet gotten off.

you direct john to slouch back against the padded headboard of your bed, and as he does you pull off your shirt, exposing you completely to john in your empty bedroom. the change of temperature has your nipples hardening further, and it sends signals right down to your pussy. you crawl over to your boyfriend, positioning your knees between his thick thighs as your lean forward on your hands.

you gently suck under his ear - a spot that always has him falling apart. like predicted, he lets out a deep groan, eyes fluttering closed as the sensation runs through his body. you pull back, you lift off his shirt. "gunna sick your dick, 'kay?"

his brows raise in surprise, face blushed as he smirks at your words. "be my guest." john helps you with removing his jeans, pulling them down his muscular thighs until they pool under his knee caps. you're too eager to take them off completely, and you waste no more time, taking ahold of his oozing dick in your closed fist, guiding the head towards your lips. you gently smack his angry red tip against your puffy lips, to which he grunts. "such a tease."

you swirl your tongue around the beating tip a few times, before licking a flat strip over his dripping slit, collecting and tasting the dribble of salty pre-cum. john moans once more, watching through lidded eyes as you take his tip fully into your mouth. it's a sight he'll never get tired of, and he can't help but collecting your hair for you, keeping the curled strands out of your face - for your benefit and his.

slowly, you take his full length into your warm mouth, hallowing out your cheeks to elevate the sucking motion over johns dick. you begin to bob your head, continuing to take his full amount into your mouth as you do. you take breaks from the up and down motion every now and then, switching up the stimulation as you slip him out of your mouth and lick the underside of his dick - tracing veins and further teasing him.

"i'm - fuck - i'm close. need to cum inside you." john gently tugs the base of your roots, pulling you away from his throbbing dick. using his thumb, he wipes the lines of spit from your face, cleaning the mess from your lips and chin. you grin at his sweet action - even if everything else about the situation is dirty.

john mimics your smile. "come up here."

you do has he says, assuming your earlier position of straddling johns spread legs, your knees sinking into the soft mattress beneath you. your core bumps against the still leaking tip of johns dick - standing high and hard, brushing his lower abdomen as he moves. immediately you let your glistening lips slide over his cock, further slicking him up with a mixture of your lingering saliva and arousal.

johns perfectly sized dick feels ridiculously good against your throbbing clit, sliding perfectly between your folds as you rock over him. it has you both moaning, breathless as you continue to grind against his dick. "gunna put it in baby?" john breathes teasingly, "or you need me to take control?"

you don't answer him, but instead lift your hips slightly, creating enough space for you to reach between your legs and take ahold of johns hot and heavy cock. you grip him with expertise, guiding his head to prod against your soaking entrance. and with that, you let yourself slide down his length, your grip automatically releasing as you balance your hands on his chest - lowering yourself onto john.

he curses, hands immediately flying to grip the fleshy sides of your hips, ready to help guide you through your ride. "you're so fucking hot."

"mhmmm - yeah?" your clit presses against johns pubic bone, an added stimulant that already has you feeling worked up and spent. you take your lip into your mouth, biting on the puffy flesh to keep ahold of your grunts.

you begin to move, slowly at first to build up your pace. it's hard to keep a steady pace though when johns dick perfectly hits all your sweet spots - pulling you closer to the edge. "oh god," you mewl, letting your head roll back, "feel so fucking good."

john smirks up at you, clearly pleased with your breathless statement. you look so good, your bare breasts swaying as you grind yourself on his hard cock. your hair is sex messy, giving you that wild and beautiful look he loves so much - your skin glistening with a combination of a sheen of sweat and the shimmery body lotion you'd applied after your shower. john can feel your juices soaking his lower half, matting down his littering of pubic hair to his skin - you're making a mess on him and yourself.

"yeah baby," john encourages, his eyes dancing between your blissful expression and where your bodies are rapidly connecting. "you're doing so good - my good girl." his grip on your hips tighten, guiding you up and down on his cock - switching and helping your momentum.

"shit johnny, i'm gunna cum again." you all but whine, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure intensifies, warming your belly amd increasing your heart rate. the way john is practically moving you by himself, combined with the movement of his dick sliding in and out of you and your clit smacking against his pelvis has you approaching your second climax.

john doesn't slow down, and if anything he increases the movements. he pulls you closer to him so that your breasts are pushed against his strong, bare chest - stomach's touching. all without stopping the guiding force that has you riding him, john kisses you. "cum on my cock baby."

his whispered and breathless words on your lips are the final push you need, and you release over his throbbing length. you let out a pornographic scream, head falling to johns shoulder as the pleasure completely overtakes your body.

john wraps his arms around your torso and flips you both over, and he's once again hovering over your flushed body. the movement has his dick slipping out of you, and the loss of that full feeling has you whining. "you did so good sweet girl. you gunna give me another one?"

you're too overwhelmed to speak - still dealing with the aftermath of your last orgasm, and processing johns request. you're still so turned on that it's not even funny. all you can muster is a moan and a quick nod and john immediately smirks, leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your sweaty hairline.

you breath a smile at the gesture - but as john begins to manhandle your legs, spreading you once again, your smile is taken over by a gentle groan. he pushes your legs towards your chest, and on instinct you grab ahold of the back of your thighs, keeping them in place.

not a second later john is guiding his dick back into your heat, pushing into you fully. it feels like he's splitting you in two with the way he slips into your spent pussy, nestling into your tight and spasming walls deliciously. "shit baby you take my cock so well - you feel what you're doing to me?" john breathes, eyes tranced on the sight of your pussy sucking him in.

his hands push against the back of your thighs, and the shift on your legs allows him to push his length either deeper. you moan, your walls clamping down on john automatically.

john squeezes your thighs between his fingers, beginning to pick up his pace - diving his perfect cock in and out of your slippery entrance. he hits all your sweet spots once again, perfectly moving his length into your weeping pussy. still built up from your last orgasm, your walls begin to flutter around his thrusting member once again, the coil in your stomach ready to snap for the third time.

your boyfriend smirks knowingly at the feeling of your clamping walls, and he looks down at you cockily. "knew you could do it - c'mon sweet girl." john's thumb slips up your folds, landing on your puffy clit and he circles the bundle of nerves tightly.

"yes yes yes yes - don't stop." you plead, desperately close to falling over the edge.

"i'm going to cum." john tells you through a groan, picking up his pace rutting into your heat. with one more pass over your sensitive clit, you cum with a exhausted whine, eyes fluttering closed as stars begin to dance in your vision. "good girl." john praises.

your arousal leaks out of your fucked hole, dripping and trailing down your ass, pooling on the bread spread. john shutters in pleasure at the sight, and with four more sporadic thrusts into you, he cums - hot ropes of his seed shooting into your entrance, coating your walls.

he pushes into you one last time, letting his entire release into you and making sure it doesn't escape. john groans in satisfaction, eyes closing as he basks in the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock. "holy fuck."

you nod, still catching your breath. without a verbal response from you, john grows concerned, looking towards you with pulled eyebrows. "you okay?"

a smile tugs at your lips, and you nod again. "yeah."

"good," he smiles, "you did so good."

you flush even deeper at his praise - never failing to get flustered from a compliment that comes from your smoking hot boyfriend. john's smirk deepens at the sight of you, and he quickly presses a kiss to your ankle before helping you lower you legs back down.

at that time, john slowly slips out of your pussy, and you both hiss at the loss of the contact. you begin to feel johns seed migrating down your walls, ready to spill from your entrance. "I gotta get up before your cum coats our bedding."

"let it," john kisses your neck once, a firm but yet somehow soft press that has you tingling all the way down to your toes. "you already made a mess - we gotta wash the blanket anyways."

just then, somebody laughs downstairs and the sound of a group of your boyfriends teammates doing a karaoke cover to a justin bieber christmas song is all you can hear. "yeah and we also have a party to get back to."

you watch the recognition flash on johns face as he recounts how your shared apartment is currently filled with his hockey team and their significant others - some of which are probably beginning to wonder where the two of you have gone. "oh yeah."

you laugh, "oh yeah."

you both get dressed again, after you make sure to deal with your business in the en suite. you speed through getting your clothes back on, making sure you both look presentable before heading back to your party. you make john leave before you, claiming you don't want to look suspicious walking down the stairs together - that would definitely give away what the two of you had been up to.

while you wait the few minutes before heading back downstairs, you grab ahold of your phone - now charged and ready to go. the sight of a text from melissa kerfoot lights up your lock screen.

melissa kerfoot

🍆 ????

you blush - so much for secrecy.

267 notes · View notes

thewulf · 1 year ago

Text

The Analyst's Arrival || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hi can I request a hotch x bau reader? I'm sure its been done before but I just love your hotch fics!! When Strauss hires the reader without Aaron Hotchner's approval, tensions run high. Hotch is distant and a little mean, but the reader's unwavering positivity and kindness start to chip away at his walls... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Yelling, gunshots (non wounded), general CM triggers

The BAU conference room hums quietly with the usual pre-meeting chatter. Derek flicks a crumpled paper ball at Spencer who is engrossed in his latest physics journal. While JJ shares weekend plans with Prentiss. The light mood does little to ease the stiffness in Aaron Hotchner’s posture as he stands at the head of the table with his folders organized neatly in front of him.

The door swings open and Erin Strauss steps in. It was a rare occurrence that immediately draws everyone’s attention. You follow behind her, your confident stride belying the curious glances you receive from the team.

"Good morning, everyone," Strauss begins. Her voice pulling the room into a focused silence. "I’d like you to meet Agent Y/N L/N. She’s joining us from the NYPD where she served in the Major Crimes unit. Agent L/N has a sharp analytical mind and extensive field experience which I’m confident will be invaluable to our team."

Hotchner's eyes narrow slightly, not at you, but at the way Strauss seems to relish the surprise on his face. He had not been informed of this decision—a move that didn't just sidestep his authority but outright ignored it. A move he hated.

As polite smiles and nods pass around the room, Hotchner remains motionless. His gaze finally landing on you. You seem unaffected by the tension your presence has stirred as you returned his scrutiny with a polite, unwavering smile.

"I'm very excited to be here and look forward to working with each of you," you spoke. Your voice steady and warm. "I’ve heard only the best about the BAU team."

"Thank you Agent L/N," Strauss cuts in smoothly. "I’ll leave you in Agent Hotchner’s capable hands." With a final nod Strauss exits, the click of her heels echoing a stark finality to her departure.

There is a brief silence as you linger in the doorway. "Why don’t we get started then?" Hotchner says. His tone more a command than a suggestion. "Morgan, Reid, can you bring Agent L/N up to speed on the current case?"

As the team dives into the details of their latest unsolved case Hotch observes you. You listen intently, asking pertinent questions that demonstrate not just your understanding but your capability to dive right into the deep end. Despite his initial resistance he can't help but admit—albeit grudgingly—that you seem competent.

Yet as the meeting progresses Hotch feels a gnawing sense of irritation. It isn't directed at you, but at Strauss and the situation he’s been forced into. Watching you interact with his team, a part of him wants to see what you can do. To see if Strauss’s confidence in you is justified. But as the leader of the BAU and with walls built from years of leadership, admitting that will take a bit more than just a good first impression.

In the days following your introduction the BAU team falls into a familiar rhythm with you, gradually weaving you into the fabric of their tightly knit group. Spencer shares book recommendations, curious about your interests. While Morgan teases lightly, testing your sense of humor. Prentiss and JJ involve you in their lunch outings often asking about your experiences with the NYPD.

However, Hotchner maintains a professional distance. During briefings he is succinct, his interactions with you strictly businesslike. His questions about your reports are pointed and perhaps harsher than necessary. You sense his doubt. Not just in his words but in the lingering looks that question your conclusions or the slight frown when you speak up during meetings.

One afternoon you're updating the team on a profile you've been developing. "Based on the victimology the unsub is likely someone with a deep-seated resentment towards authority figures. Possibly stemming from a troubled childhood," you explain as you clicked through the presentation slides.

"Seems like a stretch without more evidence," Hotchner interrupts abruptly. His critique hangs in the air. Heavier than the typical scrutiny profiles usually receive. You notice a brief exchange of looks among the team, but they remain silent.

Despite this you maintain your composure, responding calmly. "I'll dive deeper into the case files and see if I can substantiate that with more specific behaviors," you assure him with a nod that's meant to show both your respect for his experience and your confidence in your own skills.

As you work later in the quiet of the empty briefing room refining your profile, Hotchner watches from his office. The light from his desk lamp casts a long shadow and his expression is unreadable. The easy acceptance from others contrasts starkly with his skepticism and it's clear that you have yet to earn his trust.

One evening as you're the last two in the office Hotchner approaches your desk with his usual resolve towards you. "Agent L/N, I want our profiles to be watertight. I can't have assumptions without solid evidence," he states. His voice low and firm.

"I understand, sir," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate your guidance. I'm here to learn and contribute as effectively as I can."

There's a pause, a moment where something unspoken passes between you. Perhaps it's the acknowledgment of your dedication, or maybe it's Hotchner wrestling with his own reluctance to accept change. He nods curtly and leaves you to your work.

Despite the cold front you don't let it dampen your spirit. Instead, you double down on your efforts, pouring over case files late into the night. You were determined to prove your worth not just to Hotchner, but to yourself. Your positivity and commitment slowly chip away at the team's initial reservations and even though Hotchner remains distant you start to feel like a part of the BAU family.

As weeks pass your insights during case reviews become sharper. Your suggestions more intuitive. The team begins to rely on your judgment. They sought out your opinion, and slowly, very slowly, you notice a thaw in Hotchner's demeanor—a nod here, a less critical question there.

But the wall he has built around him isn't one to crumble quickly and you know that gaining Hotchner's full trust will be a marathon, not a sprint. Still, your unwavering kindness and the diligent sparkle in your eyes during every case discussion continue to sow seeds of change. Even in the stony ground of Hotch’s reserved heart.

A couple of weeks later and Hotch finally decides you’re ready to join the team in the field instead of staying behind with Penelope. Not that you didn’t like working with her you were just craving to do what you were hired to do.

The air is thick with tension as the BAU team arrives at the suspected hideout of the unsub at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It's late, the darkness only broken by the beams of flashlights and the occasional flicker of police sirens in the distance. Hotchner's orders are clear and concise. His voice a calm command over the sound of rustling tactical gear.

"Reid, Y/N, you're with me. Morgan, Prentiss, take the east side. Radio if you make contact. Everyone, stay sharp," Hotchner instructs. His eyes scanning the perimeter before leading you and Reid towards the main entrance.

The warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and echoing spaces. A place that seems to absorb sound and light alike. You follow Hotch with your senses heightened every training you’ve undergone pulsing through your veins. As you navigate through a maze of crates and discarded machinery, a noise—a soft scuffle, almost imperceptible—catches your attention. You signal to Hotchner and Reid pointing towards a dark corridor off to the left.

"Stay here, cover us," Hotchner whispers. His gun raised as he edges toward the sound with Reid close behind.

You position yourself with your back to a solid surface, gun aimed at the corridor. Your mind races through various scenarios, but nothing prepares you for the sight of a figure lunging out of the shadows. Heading straight for Reid with a knife glinting in the dim light.

Without a moment's hesitation you break cover, tackling Reid out of the knife’s path. The impact sends you both sprawling to the ground just as Hotchner turns, firing off two quick shots. The unsub goes down, a groan echoing off the walls.

"Reid, you okay?" Hotchner is immediately by your side. His usual stoic demeanor replaced by concern.

"Yeah, thanks to Y/N," Reid gasps. His eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near miss.

Hotchner turns to you. His expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly his features soften, the corners of his eyes crinkling not with frustration, but something akin to gratitude. "Good work, Agent L/N. That was quick thinking."

Your heart pounds not just from the action but also from Hotchner's acknowledgment. "Just doing my job, sir," you manage to choke out though the gravity of the moment isn't lost on you.

As the team secures the scene and paramedics check over everyone Hotchner keeps glancing your way, his gaze lingering longer than usual. In those looks there’s a new respect, perhaps even a reassessment of his earlier doubts about you.

Later, as the team debriefs back at the BAU, Hotch publicly commends your actions. "Agent L/N’s instincts and bravery tonight might have saved Dr. Reid’s life and potentially others. Excellent work."

The team’s applause is warm, genuine, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. More than the praise it’s Hotchner’s nod of respect towards you that marks a significant shift. It's a turning point not just in your relationship with him but in your place within the team. Your actions have not only proven your worth, but they’ve begun to dismantle the walls Hotchner had built around himself, brick by brick.

In the weeks following the intense warehouse operation the dynamic within the BAU team subtly shifts. You are no longer just the new agent. You have proven yourself as a vital part of the team. Hotchner notices the change not only in how the team interacts with you but also in his own perceptions.

One crisp autumn morning as the trees outside the Quantico offices burst with gold and russet hues, Hotchner finds himself observing you from across the bullpen. You’re assisting Morgan with recalibrating the physical training program for new recruits. The ease with which you handle the task, balancing Morgan’s strength with strategic insights, does not go unnoticed by Hotchner. There's a gentleness mixed with competence in your approach. A stark contrast to the decisive action you displayed in the field.

Later that day, you offer to stay late to help Morgan review the training schedules, ensuring they are optimized for the team’s needs. Garcia joins in eager to add her tech-savvy touch. Hotchner overhears laughter from the office you’re sharing, a sound that is light and genuine, making him pause as he packs up for the night. The sound of friendship and shared effort makes the BAU feel more like a tight nit family and he realizes you are a big part of that shift.

During a team briefing the following week Hotch openly seeks your opinion on the psychological conditioning aspects of the training program. As you outline your thoughts by citing recent research and adaptive training methods he listens intently. The team watches this interaction, clearly seeing Hotchner’s respect for you which influences their own views.

When the team encounters a critical situation with a string of high intensity raids you suggest an innovative tactical maneuver that saves valuable time and minimizes risk. Watching you handle the pressure with composed determination Hotch feels a significant shift within himself—a deep-seated respect for your skills and a growing admiration for your resilience.

It’s not just your professional competence that reshapes his thoughts but also your empathy and dedication. You take the time to ensure that the team is not only prepared physically but supported mentally. A role that enriches the team in ways Hotchner hadn't anticipated.

One evening as everyone is about to leave you pass by Hotchner’s office. He calls you in, an impromptu gesture that surprises even him. “Agent L/N,” he begins, his voice reflecting a mix of professional respect and something more tentative. “I’ve been meaning to say… your work, especially in these past weeks, has been exemplary. I initially misjudged you and I want you to know I appreciate what you bring to the team.”

Your response is a nod accompanied by a warm smile, but his words catch you off guard and a faint blush colors your cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m just glad to be here, and I really truly appreciate your guidance.”

It's then, in that quiet moment, as the setting sun casts a warm glow through his office window highlighting the blush on your face and the sincerity in your eyes that Hotchner sees something he hadn't fully allowed himself to recognize before. The softness of the light, the quiet dignity with which you accept his praise and the undeniable warmth of your smile strike him profoundly.

For a brief moment Hotchner is silent, observing you not just as a capable agent but as a person whose presence has subtly but indelibly changed the fabric of the team—and his own perceptions. The realization that he finds you beautiful, in more ways than one, surfaces quietly but powerfully in his mind. This acknowledgment isn't just about your physical appearance but encompasses the entirety of your influence on him and the team.

As you leave his office with a certain lightness in your step. The thoughtful look on Hotchner's face mark a turning point. It's a small almost imperceptible moment, but it’s one where personal and professional lines blur slightly, hinting at deeper unspoken possibilities that neither of you may yet fully understand.

The next case up had been grueling with long hours and high stakes that left the entire team feeling the weight of their responsibilities. As the post-case debrief wraps up in the BAU conference room the team disperses, leaving behind a palpable relief mixed with the usual fatigue. But as everyone else heads out to grasp at some much-needed rest, Hotchner lingers at the conference table organizing his notes with more care than perhaps necessary.

Seeing you gathering your belongings slowly he finds the resolve to address the change he's felt brewing within him. "Agent L/N, could I have a moment?" he asks. His voice much softer than usual.

You nod, curious, setting your bag down and returning to the table. The room is quiet now, lit only by the dim lights left on for the night shift.

Hotchner takes a deep breath, his demeanor uncharacteristically open. "I owe you an apology," he starts. His eyes meeting yours. "When you first joined the team, I was... less than welcoming. I questioned your capabilities. Not because of any fault in your record or your behavior, but because I was resistant to the change you represented."

You listen, surprised by his candor, as he continues, "I've always insisted on control, on predictability. After everything I’ve been through, it seemed like the only way to protect the team, to protect my family from further loss. But I've come to realize that I was protecting myself more than anyone."

Hotchner pauses. His gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to yours, more intense, more vulnerable. "You’ve brought a new perspective to the team, a resilience and warmth that I didn't know we needed. You've saved lives, not just through your actions in the field but by being who you are. And...” he hesitates, the next words clearly weighing heavily on him, “and I find myself grateful, not just for your contributions to the team, but for the light you've brought into my life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. The formal barriers between you melting away in the quiet honesty of the moment. “Thank you, Hotch," you respond, your voice low. You were touched by his admission. "I’ve always admired your dedication and getting to see this side of you, it means a lot."

Hotchner nods with a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve. "I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I would like to... explore this, whatever this is, with you. If you’re open to it," he adds quickly, almost awkwardly.

As the room quiets and you acknowledge Aaron Hotchner’s feelings. Even though your elated you feel that pit of dread form in your stomach. Aaron was your superior… a shadow of concern passes over your face, quickly deepening into visible anxiety. "Hotch," you start, your voice carrying a mix of hope and worry that quickly spirals into panic. "What about Strauss? If things change between us... I mean, if we do this, couldn’t it really complicate things? What if it impacts the team, or your position, or—"

Seeing your distress, Hotchner steps closer. His expression softening significantly as he picks up on your escalating fears. "Hey," he interjects gently, his tone soothing. "Let’s just take a moment, okay?"

You pause, your breath shaky, caught up in the whirlwind of potential consequences that his words had unwittingly unleashed.

Hotchner reaches out slowly. He was giving you time to accept his comfort before his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. "We're not going to rush into anything," he assures you, his voice calm and steady. "Yes, there are risks, and you’re absolutely right to consider them. But we’re not in this alone. We have a team that supports us, and we have each other."

His words help, but it's the firm comforting presence of his hands, the warmth from his touch, that really begins to calm your racing thoughts. "We'll be careful," he continues. "We’ll make decisions together. I respect you too much to let this cause you any distress. If it ever becomes too much, we stop and we stay professional. That’s a promise."

Your breathing slows, steadied by his reassurances. Looking into his eyes you find a sincere commitment there. A steadiness that you’ve always admired in him now directed towards nurturing whatever might grow between you.

Seeing that you’re still tense, Hotchner does something he rarely does—he pulls you gently into a hug. It’s a careful gesture making sure to respect the boundaries but offering comfort. "We’ll handle whatever comes, together," he murmurs. "You're not in this alone."

The hug was unexpected but deeply comforting. It helps to dissolve the last of your apprehensions. You let out a slow breath, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You felt a sense of safety in his support.

"Thank you, Hotch," you manage to say with your voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that. One step at a time. I can do that."

"One step at a time," he confirms. Giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to respect your space. "We have all the time we need."

As you both leave the conference room, your steps feel lighter. The burden of immediate decisions lifted. With Hotch’s support you feel ready to face whatever challenges might come knowing that not just the weight of the case, but also the weight of new possibilities could be shared.

In the weeks that follow your relationship with Hotchner develops quietly but deeply. Both of you are cautious, acutely aware of the professional boundaries that must be maintained in the intense environment of the BAU. Yet outside of those walls, in the small, stolen moments you find together, a new world seems to unfold. A world where you can be just Aaron and Y/N, not agents with burdens too heavy to bear alone.

You start with simple coffee dates after long shifts where the conversation drifts from case debriefs to shared interests in literature and quiet confessions about your lives outside the FBI. These moments are a revelation, filled with laughter and soft looks that linger longer than necessary. They are moments that stitch the fabric of your relationship tighter with every thread of shared vulnerability and joy.

Aaron, who has always been guarded with his emotions, finds in you an understanding ear and a comforting presence. You learn about his son, Jack, about the painful loss of his wife, and how these experiences shaped him, not just as an agent but as a man who fiercely protects those he loves. Your empathy and gentle encouragement help him navigate the lingering shadows of his past. Allowing him to embrace the possibility of happiness again.

For you, Aaron becomes the person you didn’t know you needed in his strength. His steadfast nature and unyielding integrity inspire you, guiding you through the complexities of your role within the BAU. His belief in your abilities boosts your confidence and his support becomes your anchor in the turbulent sea of your demanding careers.

Together you navigate the highs and lows of life at the BAU. After particularly harrowing cases it’s Aaron who helps you decompress by taking long walks by the lake near your apartment or simply sitting together in comfortable silence. And it’s you who brings light into his evenings with Jack making sure to join them for movie nights and slowly becoming part of the family he holds dear.

The relationship does not go unnoticed by the team but the respect you both maintain at work ensures that your personal lives enrich your professionalism rather than detract from it. Your colleagues see the subtle changes—how Aaron smiles a bit more, how you’re both more relaxed despite the demands of your job.

After a few months of dating, you and Aaron walk hand in hand along the quiet paths of a nearby park, he stops, pulling you close. The city lights cast a soft glow around you, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath. "Y/N, these past months have shown me something I hadn’t dared to hope for," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. "That it’s possible to find light even in the darkest places. You’ve brought that light into my life."

You smile while reaching up to touch his face gently. "And you’ve shown me that strength isn’t just about holding up the world on your own, but knowing when to share the load," you reply, your heart full. "I love you, Aaron."

"I love you too, Y/N," he whispers, and as he leans down to kiss you, it feels like a promise. A promise of a future together where love and understanding can thrive amidst the chaos of the life you’ve chosen.

As autumn turns into winter the relationship between you and Aaron blooms amidst the frosty edges of the season, weaving warmth into the crisp air around you. Your love, quiet but profound, becomes the silent strength that both of you draw from during the demanding days at the BAU.

One chilly December evening after a usually tough case that had stretched your limits and tested your resilience, Aaron plans something special to celebrate not just the end of the case but the life you are building together. When you arrive at his house after the long day, you find the living room transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. It was complete with soft blankets, flickering candles, and a fireplace that crackles with warmth.

Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron greets you at the door with a gentle smile dressed in a comfortable sweater that makes him look homier than ever. "I thought we could use a quiet night in," he smiles while leading you into the room.

The table is set with your favorite foods and there’s a gentle playlist humming through the speakers filled with songs that have slowly become 'yours'. Aaron pulls out a chair for you, his manners impeccable as always, but his eyes are shining with a joy that is purely personal. As you eat, the conversation flows easily—plans for the holiday, funny anecdotes from the day, shared dreams for the future. After dinner Aaron leads you to the couch where a blanket is draped invitingly. He sits beside you pulling you close into his side, and you nestle against him feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Y/N,” Aaron murmurs, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, “when I think about all we’ve been through, I realize every moment led me right here, to this. To us. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You look up at him touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And I can’t imagine a better person to share my life with,” you reply. Your hand finding his. “You make everything... brighter. More beautiful.”

Aaron smiles, his gaze tender. “I have something for you,” he says while reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, exquisitely wrapped box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a pendant that glimmers softly in the firelight—a compass.

“It’s to remind us that no matter where we go or what cases we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he explains. His fingers brushing lightly over the pendant before fastening it around your neck.

You touch the pendant overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s perfect, Aaron. Just like this night, like this.”

He leans in with his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow and sweet, a seal over promises made and kept. The rest of the evening passes in gentle laughter, shared kisses, and dreams whispered between the folds of blankets under the watchful glow of firelight and twinkling stars outside your window.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

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harryyskiwii · 2 years ago

Text

Summary: Flight Attendant Y/N meets Captain Harry Styles for the first time and they join the mile high club, sort of.

Pairing: Reader y/n X Captain Harry

Word count: 4,207

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been on holiday the last week and that is what inspired me to write this 🥰As always, please feel free to request anything! Hope you enjoy!

One of the things you enjoyed most about being a flight attendant was the thrill of being able to visit new places, if only for a brief period of time.

You had worked for British Airways for 3 years now and soon you would be hoping to step up to Team Leader where you could help train and look after new flight attendants.

You usually only did short-haul flights out of your base which was London Heathrow and flew across Europe; the longest flight being 6 hours. Short hail suited you, you typically flew to 3 or 4 places within a day and by 1 am, you were back in your bed. That’s if all went to plan. For today’s first flight, you were heading to Dusseldorf in Germany, somewhere you regularly flew to.

You parked your car in the staff area of the airport, changed out of your trainers and into your small black court shoes as driving in heels was never comfortable.

You pulled out your small case from the boot of your car which contained a spare uniform because you won’t be caught out again; on a previous flight a passenger spilt their red wine all over you one time and you had no spare shirt to change into, your water, your lunch because aeroplane food was awful and some spare makeup to top up with in between flights.

You smoothed out your navy pencil skirt, so old fashioned you thought, and tied the red, white and blue scarf around your neck ready to enter the airport.

You headed straight for security and through the fast track lane since you were crew. Once past, you headed to the staff area to check which gate you had to go through to get to the aircraft.

Approaching gate 7, you showed the staff your pass and they nodded and let you go.

You headed towards the aircraft, where you saw the First Officer; Andy doing the pre-flight walk-around. You had flown with Andy for the best part of a year and you knew him well. He got into flying after he fancied a change in career from being in the police. You always liked Andy, he was a father to 2 girls who he adored and always made the typical dad jokes which meant it was normally a good flight with him

“Alright wee one, nice to see you” he smiled at you. “Hey, how are you?” You smiled back at him.

“I’m good, ready for 12 hours of pure joy?” He joked and you laughed. “Always” you replied.

“Who’s the Captain today?” You asked, always fearing if it would be one of the older, slightly rude Captains or one more relaxed and friendly.

“New guy, Styles his name is. Seems like a good bloke, think Daniel already has the hots for him” he winked and you laughed.

You relaxed at the mention of Daniel who you had become best friends with after you had both started the job on the same day. You loved working with him as he always seemed to make the flight go in faster.

“Hey! Am I glad to see you today” you said once inside the aircraft.

“Hey!!” He said hugging you “I’ve not been with you on a flight for ages, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” he said excitedly. You laughed as he always saw working with you as gossip sessions rather than working.

You headed towards the front portion of the plane where the crew placed their bags and got ready for the flight. You glanced in at the cockpit where you saw the Captain sitting doing the necessary paperwork before departure. Although you could only see the back of him you could tell he was wearing his black double-breasted black jacket with the 4 gold stripes on both the epaulettes and the sleeve of his jacket; showing his ranking as Captain.

He had short, dark brown hair which you could tell had been meticulously styled that morning as not a hair was out of place. You had never worked with this captain before, so you weren’t sure what to expect from him; some captains could be so far up their own, you weren’t allowed to speak to them unless spoken so you kept quiet and put your things away and headed back out to the main cabin to find 2 more girls who you didn’t recognise arriving onto the plane.

“Hi, I’m Emma, Team Leader for today. Nice to meet you” the tall blonde girl who was wearing a minimal amount of makeup but still managed to look flawless said to you.

“Hi nice to meet you, I’m y/n” “Lovely name, I’ll go sit my bag down and we can start the briefing” she smiled.

You noticed the other girl who had since boarded, she looked a little more reserved so you decided to introduce yourself.

“Hi I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you” You smiled at her to help relax her. She looked young and a little unsure, she was maybe 18 or 19 years old so you assumed she hasn’t long qualified as cabin crew. You remember how nervous you were for your first few flights so you decided you wanted to look out for her during the day

“Hey, I’m Holly” she said. “Not long qualified?” You asked kindly.

“This is my 2nd flight” she said and you smiled.

“Don’t worry I remember my first couple of flights, it’s nerve-wracking but you’ll soon get the hang of it. There’s no better way to learn than doing it so if there’s anything you need a hand with today, just let me know. I’m always happy to help” you smiled.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your things” You smiled and led her towards the cockpit.

“So you can grab anything you need out of your bag and put it in the fridge if you’ve got a sandwich or anything like that, otherwise you can pop it in here and lock it, we all put our bags in one locker together

“Ahh, I thought I heard some voices. I was just coming to do the briefing” you heard the captain say from behind the cockpit door. You stood up straight and smiled at him coming out.

His eyes fell onto you first and he smiled “Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you” You shook his hand that he had extended for you and took in his beauty. He looked young, maybe 29 or 20. He had green eyes and fair skin which had a slight tan to it, making the dimple on the left side of his face more prominent.

“Y/N, lovely to meet you, Mr Styles”

“Please, call me Harry” he told you and you smiled at how genuine he seemed. Most captains would only allow you to refer to them as Captain and their last name so it was nice to have one who was more relaxed.

“This is our newbie Holly, this is her 2nd ever flight today” you smiled as you introduced the new recruit to him.

“Holly, nice to meet you. I’m Harry, hope you’re settling in well?” He asked kindly as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Styles, yes settling in very well thank you” she sheepishly replied. It always was a bit intimidating to speak with a captain, especially ones you didn’t know much about.

“Call me Harry please” he smiled. “Shall we move to the cabin and start the brief?” He asked and you nodded, moving to the front part of where the passenger seats were located.

By this point, everyone was now in the cabin waiting to start the briefing. The captain introduced himself to the remaining crew members before you all took seats at the front of the plane.

“So my name is Emma I’m one of the British Airways Team Leaders and I’ll be working as number 1 for this shift. Today we’ve got Captain Harry Styles and First Officer Andrew Simmons on the flight deck. For cabin crew today we’ve got Daniel, Holly and y/n, I think we’ve already met each other by now yes?” Emma asked as she pointed to everyone during the introductions.

“Great, it’s a Boeing 777 we’re on today, I’ll let Captain Styles and First Officer Andy talk more about that in a bit. There are a total of 6 flights today; Heathrow to Düsseldorf, Düsseldorf to Heathrow, Heathrow to Las Palmas, Las Palmas to Heathrow and then Heathrow to Venice and Venice back to Heathrow. Full flights on all destinations so we need to be on top of our game in the cabin, Daniel can I ask you to be number 2 today? Holly, do you mind being 3 today and y/n as number 4?”

Number 1 meant you were looking after the passengers in the front of the plane, number 2 was in the middle of the plane, number 3 was in the back section of the plane and number 4 was an additional person who helped the rest of the team, including the flight crew.

You nodded in agreement, secretly glad you were given the position of helping to look after the captain and the FO.

“Captain Styles, do you want to run through your information?” She asked and he straightened up in his chair.

“Yeah sure I’ll just introduce myself a little more since I’m a new face to a lot of people. I’m Harry I’ve been a Captain now for 5 years having previously worked for Ryanair before moving here 3 weeks ago. Please call me Harry because Captain sounds old and although I’ve recently hit my 30s, I’m not quite there yet” This gained a few laughs from the crew, including yourself.

So he was attractive and funny? The more he spoke the more you found yourself more and more drawn to him. He was charming. But not in a cocky way, he seemed genuine and the fact he was a Pilot told you he was smart. Very smart. You always did have a thing for intelligence.

“We’ll be cruising around 30,000 feet once up in the air, weather looks good, clear skies with a 30% chance of light showers. The weather in Düsseldorf is 23 degrees which doesn’t concern us as we’ll have a 20-minute turnover before boarding to come back to the UK unfortunately, bet you wish you’d chosen long haul now Holly?” Harry joked at the fact that although travelling throughout Europe, you hardly ever got to even leave the plane.

You all laughed and Holly agreed. Harry continued with the briefing, telling you about the time durations, and quizzing everyone on emergencies, something which was legally required to ensure all crew knew what to do in the event of one.

“Thanks everyone, I think we can start boarding now” Harry smiled and Emma nodded, knowing to start the boarding procedure.

“Y/N can you help Holly if she needs a hand opening the rear door?” Emma asked and you nodded.

You headed towards the rear of the cabin with Holly behind you.

Once everything was set for boarding, you headed towards the middle of the cabin to help passengers find their seats and help with any luggage they had.

Luckily, boarding took 20 minutes and before you knew it, you were doing the safety demonstration for the passengers while the plane reversed out of the airport and to the runway. You could hear Andy’s voice informing the passengers of the information Harry had relayed to you earlier about the weather etc to keep them up to date.

With the safety demonstration over and having checked everyone had their seatbelts on, Emma nodded to you to signal that you could sit down and prepare for the take-off.

“Cabin crew take seats and prepare for take-off” you heard Captain Styles say and you smiled a little at the sound of his voice.

You sat down at the rear of the plane next to Holly and fastened your seatbelt.

“I’ve done hundreds of flights and I never get bored of the take-off or landing” you said to her quietly as you could feel the plane taxing down the runway.

“I’ve done a handful and still get nervous” she said and you squeezed her hand a little to let her know it was okay to be nervous.

He must have gone from 50mph to about 170mph in less than 30 seconds because before you knew it, you were being hauled into the air with such speed that you swear your heart fell out of your arse. A “fuck” could be heard under Holly’s breath and you laughed.

That was a sure sign of a good takeoff. For a plane to take off at such speed it requires a good sustained acceleration which was exactly what Harry did.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent and good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground? Was there anything this Pilot wasn’t good at?

As the plane climbed into the air, Andy’s voice could be heard over the intercom “Ladies and Gentleman please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the captain has switched off the seatbelt sign. Thank you”

A common command that was often used for eager passengers who would immediately take their seatbelts off as the plane took off the ground.

10 minutes in, the seatbelt sign was switched off and people started to immediately stand up to use the toilets, it always looked like the hunger games you thought.

Because the duration of the flight was only 1 hour and 25 minutes, only the drinks and snack service were required so you and Holly started with that as one of your first tasks, hoping to keep the passengers settled.

Halfway through the service, the alarm which alerted cabin crew to the cockpit was rung and so as the number 4, you left the drinks cart and headed to the cockpit.

You straightened out your skirt and pushed back a few loose strands of hair before knocking and going in.

“Everything alright?” You asked politely squeezing through the small door and inside the cockpit.

“I’m just gonna nip to the loo” Andy said and you nodded, understanding. It was policy that the cockpit operated a “2-person flight deck” which meant 2 people had to be in the cockpit every second the aeroplane was in use.

Andy exited and headed for the toilet.

“Come and sit down” Harry said to you as he glanced over at the seat Andy had been sat in. You moved and sat down in the First Officer’s chair.

“How’s everything out there?” He asked looking over at you. The plane was now set on autopilot meaning it no longer required the captains' manual control, rather a system was being used to control the path of an aircraft.

“Yeah everything’s good, no difficult passengers yet, although what are the chances I’ve jinxed it now” you laugh.

“For the next 5 flights, we’ll have the worst passengers in the history of aviation” he joked and you laughed at his quick white

God, he looked so good sitting there. He had taken off his jacket which revealed a clean crisp white shirt, still showing the 4 gold stripes on his shoulder, but the shirt revealed tattoos. Tattoos which made you feel there was a lot about the Pilot you wanted to find out about.

“Great takeoff by the way” you remarked to him and he smiled lightly.

“Thanks, I’d practised take-off loads in flight school and then just lots of experience I suppose”

The way he spoke was so gentle but also with such passion for his career in his voice.

“What about you, how long have you been in the air for?”

“I’ve been cabin crew for 3 years now, I love it. I was saying to Holly earlier that no matter how many times I fly, I still get the same buzz each time we take off and land”

You watched as his lips turned upwards into a smirk “You’ve not experienced my landing yet, wait until you do”

You laughed at the comment and right on time, Andy came back.

“Fancy swapping jobs for the day?” He joked when he saw you in his chair. You laughed and got up “No thank you, I’d rather not be responsible for 130 passengers” you said and they laughed.

“You guys need anything before I head back out?” You asked them both.

“Could I get a tea if possible please y/n?” Harry asked you politely.

“Of course, how do you take it?”

“Milk and 2 sugars” he told you and you took a mental note of it.

“Nothing for me thanks y/n” Andy said.

You headed back to the cabin, being stopped multiple times by passengers to ask for certain things before making this Captain his tea.

You knocked on the cockpit door and went in.

“Here’s your tea for you” you said handing it to Harry. He smiled and took it off you “Thanks” You headed back to get a Karen in row 21 the G&T she had previously asked for .

“Y/n!” You heard your name being called by the captain from behind the door of the cockpit you had just been in.

You sighed a little, sensing something was wrong and headed back in.

“That’s the best cup of tea anyone has ever made me” he remarked as he smiled at you.

You laughed slightly “I’ll add tea-making skills to my CV then”

“Honestly it’s perfect, I might have to request you on every one of my flights so you can make me the perfect cuppa”

“Right you two, enough with the flirting. Styles we’ve got 25 minutes until landing” Andy jumped in and you and Harry both laughed.

Andy winked at you and you continued with the rest of your tasks.

You arrived in Düsseldorf, with a very smooth landing from Captain Styles at 7:20 am with the next flight at 8 am, giving you a 20-minute turnaround time to get things ready for the next lot of passengers boarding. It was a quick turnaround and before you knew it, you were taking off from Düsseldorf back to London

Landing back at Heathrow at 9:30 am, the next flight was at 10:15 and already there was an issue.

A nervous passenger was starting to feel unwell and wasn’t sure if she would be able to fly to Las Palmas. You and Emma were trying to convince her that the 4-hour and 30-minute trip would be completely safe and she had nothing to worry about.

“I can’t, I can’t fly. What if the plane crashes or falls into the sea? I can’t swim, I will drown and die. I can’t” the passenger who looked no more than 25 said.

“I completely understand your nerves, I can assure you that aeroplanes these days are made to be very very safe and the chances of anything happening are so very slim” you tried to reason with her.

Meanwhile, Emma had instructed Daniel to tell the flight deck what the delay was.

“Hi, I heard we’ve got a nervous flyer?” You heard the same voice who had complimented your tea-making skills say from behind you. The woman nodded.

You looked up to see Harry standing in the cabin, looking to speak with the passenger.

You stepped back and let him crouch down beside her in her seat.

“I’m Harry, I’m the Captain who’ll be taking you over to Palma today. Can I ask your name?” He asked kindly to the passenger.

“It’s Rebecca” she said.

“Okay Rebecca, it’s nice to meet you. So Daniel explained to me that you’re quite nervous when flying?”

“Yeah, I worry the plane will crash or fall into the water”

“Okay I can see why those are concerns, the risk of a crash or the plane failing and falling into the sea is 1 in 11 million. The aircraft is completely safe and in all my years of flying, I’ve never had an emergency on board, well actually I forgot my coffee once which was a real emergency. I’m a real grump without my coffee” he joked and the passenger laughed, as did you at the comment.

“The team are all here to look after you during the flight and if you need anything at all, you can press this button above your head for assistance and they’ll be right over to help you. Does that put your mind at ease a little bit?” He asked still crouched down beside her.

“It does thank you yes captain” Rebecca smiled.

“Good, we’ll be taking off in around 10 minutes so sit back, relax and try and enjoy the flight as much as you can” He smiled and renters back into the cockpit to being the takeoff procedure.

During the flight, the nervous passenger fell asleep halfway through and only woke up when the plane was safely on the ground. Harry came to check on her as she was disembarking and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness in calming her down.

“It’s no trouble at all, you have a good holiday now” he told her as she left the aircraft.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent, good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground and great at calming people down. If you hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, by the next 3 flights, you definitely will have.

Thankfully, the following 3 flights were uneventful, except for the drunken guy who had spilt his crisps all over another passenger which you had to clean up.

The last flight from Venice back to base at Heathrow was welcomed. Your feet were sore, your makeup had half melted off and you couldn’t wait to get your hair out of the uncomfortable bun you were required to wear all day.

After seeing all the passengers off the plane, you started to clear up.

“What a day, thanks for all your help guys” Harry shouted down the cabin as he locked it up for the night.

“No problem Captain Styles, hope to be working with you again soon” Emma said to him.

“Likewise, you guys head off I’m just going to do a walk around” you heard him say.

“Are you sure?” Emma said. “Yeah sure, thanks again everyone” he said once more.

You, Holly, Emma and Daniel started to get ready to leave when you felt Harry’s arm touch yours slightly.

“You stay” you heard him whisper into your ear subtly as you passed him to get your bag.

You blushed and swallowed hard “You guys go, I need the loo” you said to the rest of them.

“Go in the airport” Daniel said and you hinted at him to go.

“Weak bladder, you go I’ll see you soon” you smiled at them.

“Text me later!” Daniel said and you smiled as they left the aircraft.

“Weak bladder eh?” The captain raised an eyebrow at you when everyone was out of sight.

You laughed “I couldn’t think of anything else”

He laughed and smirked at you “I couldn’t help but think about you today. That shitty landing in Venice was your fault, I couldn’t think of anything else”

“I’ll just add ‘distraction to pilot’ on my CV as well then shall I?” You joked.

“You’re such a distraction to the pilot,” he said quietly as he leaned in closer to you.

He cups your face in his hands and he leans in and slowly kisses you. The kiss soon starts to grow more intense as moans echo through the cabin.

He’s started to groan in your ear and kiss your neck up and down.

He pushes you down into a seat in the front row by your hips and he kneels down in front of you.

His hands go up underneath your skirt and start to pull on your tights to reveal your bare legs.

"Harry we can’t do this here." You say completely out of breath already.

“You’re right, the toilet is better. Does this count as joining the mile high club even if we’re not in the air?” He smirked as he led you, barefoot to the bathroom.

For the next 10 minutes, you and Harry enjoyed each other’s company in the toilet as he moved his hips slowly inside of you, each thrust getting faster and faster.

You felt like you might collapse soon and he knew it too so he decided to stop just before you orgasmed and let you out of the toilet.

You sat down in the front row, completely out of breath, a little disheartened he’d pulled out before you orgasmed.

He appeared from the toilet, zipping up his trousers and putting his belt back on.

“Let’s finish at my house” he said and you happily obliged. It was fair to say that night you never got any sleep, despite how tired you had been after your shift.

Thanks to Harry giving you the most amazing sex you’d ever had, you had never been more grateful to be an Air Hostess as you had been that day for meeting your now boyfriend, Captain Harry Styles.

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fandom #harry styles concept #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x reader #harrystylesoneshot #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fanfiction #Pilot!harry #PilotHarry #CaptainHarry #flight attendant #harry styles one shot #hslot werchter #love on tour #hslot 2023 #harrystyles #harry fanfic

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katerinaaqu · 1 year ago

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@prompted-wordsmith

This is for you because your small story was amazing so I want to create one in return! And since you want Helen to speak up more here is a little interaction pre-departure from Troy between Helen and Odysseus because why not!

The city hadn't yet stopped smoking from the night of massacre. Helen feared it never would. The smell of burning wood and asbestos was sticking on her clothes and hair; bitter reminder of the events of the night before. Helen didn't want even to think of the lingering smell of blood; metal and water that she had touched. It was as if everything was red now; hands and heart and bloodshot eyes. She hadn't slept that night or the night after it. She feared she never would again.

She could still feel that this was partially her fault; both the beginning and the end of it. She knew the Horse was a farse; a well-staged plan. She chose not to alert the alarm. She had chosen her side once more. And now women and children and men at Troy were laying down dead or worse. She remembered seeing Andromache being dragged out of the city in chains along with other women. They were to be sold as slaves or given as prices to the kings of the Acheans. The once proud queen was now crying woefully; mourning her husband who was killed. She had been dragged out of her husband's tomb where she went to seek sanctuary. That was the ultimate hubris along with her father-in-law Priam who she heard from a conversation had been slain upon the altar he hoped would grand him his life. She heard it was Neoptolemus, the young man who carried the blood of Achilles in his veins and apparently his rage and temper. Who would have known that a child like that could be so cruel and blasphemous? So full of rage? Helen could not see her infant son in her arms as she was taken away. She didn't even dare to ask. For a brief second Andromache raised her head and her honey eyes stuck within her blue ones. The look was almost accusatory as the tears had given her face reddish lines. Or perhaps it was the self inflicted scratches that she had made in her woe. That second lasted longer than it should be before the queen was dragged away.

"That could have been me..." she thought

However her position was not much different. As she was standing at the peer, she was always guarded by a soldier; obviously her husband wanted both to protect her but also obviously he didn't trust her. Helen couldn't say she blamed him but it still hurt. She was seeing Menelaus talking to Odysseus, sorting out the details. Helen watched her husband and her former fiance in wonder. Indeed how strange fate was! How different the two men were! She could tell Menelaus's auburn hair from kilometers away as they were held together by a band around his head. He was well built and strong, seemed dressed in sunlight. Odysseus next to him seemed the opposite. He wasn't tall. He was barely average, a few decent inches shorter than her husband and a good head shorter than her brother-in-law however he seemed wider in shoulder and his chest resembled a wall dressed in a coat of dark curly hair. His head was adorned with black hair that seemed golden under the setting sun: bushy and curly like a ram held together by various little bands that held his curls tamed under his leather headband. His beard was equally bushy and shaggy even if he had obviously tried to make himself more presentable from the night before. His onyx eyes were bottomless holes. The man seemed tired; prematurely aged that day. Helen knew that he had a similar burden to bare with her. How strange indeed, she thought. The man seemed like coming from the night. And yet he seemed darker now; his shoulders seemed heavier than before.

"Take her home safely"

Odysseus's voice drew her out of her daydream. His voice was hoarse and tired. He seemed aged before his years. Helen remembered again the flamboyant young man that was supposed to court her. Sure his eyes filled with premature wisdom and intelligence gave him an aura of age but she could remember his laughter and smile seemed those of a teenager as if trying to persuade people of his actual age. Now that teen was gone. He was a man now; long past that first youth; a Sacker of Cities.

"Otherwise all this would have been for nothing!"

The timbre in his voice; the seer accusation, hurt her much more than anything besides her husband's distrust. No, at least Odysseus...the wise and prudent Odysseus should understand. Menelaus nodded to his loyal friend and shot her with yet another look. Helen couldn't decide if it was angry or closer to sad. As he walked away she turned again to look at Odysseus. The man barely saw her with the corner of his eye but spoke nothing. Helen couldn't bare the silence any longer.

"Odysseus..." she finally spoke, "Why? How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel?" His voice was full of disbelief, of anger that made his chest rise like the tide

He turned to her walking like a lion ready to pounce. Helen stood her ground though. She stuck her ocean blue eyes deeply within his black ones.

"Cruel?" He repeated, "I've lost my son's first 10 years because of this war!"

"This war wasn't my choice!" Helen felt the need to defend herself against him.

"It commensed because of you!" The accusation was finally spoken outloud, "Menelaus started this because of you!"

"I didn't know he-..."

"YES YOU DID!" Odysseus finally bellowed making her take a step back, "yes you did...you just didn't think!"

He turned her back at her. He was about to leave but he didn't seem done yet.

"The blood of many brave Acheans is on your hands..."

That was way too much. Odysseus should know better than hurt her this way! This was unfair even if spoken through pain and anger. Bravely Helen held back the tears that burnt her eyes. He wouldn't see her weep!

"If I told you..." she began with the best voice she could master, "...that gods play games with us all the time...that they cloud our judgment... Would you believe me?"

Odysseus looked over his shoulder but spoke nothing.

"You of all people should understand" Helen whispered

"What does it matter what I'd believe?"

"It matters to me!" Helen replied firmly. "Please, Odysseus...at least you...at least you should believe me..."

Odysseus seemed ready to reply but the last minute he stopped himself. He chose silence; cruel and cold silence. He began walking away. Two angry tears ran down her white, rosy cheeks. No she couldn't leave it this way!

"ODYSSEUS!" She yelled after him, "you're a hypocrite!"

That stopped him to his tracks as he turned around.

"What?" He asked almost scandalized

Helen was shivering from top to bottom and her knuckles turned white from clenching them too hard.

"Do you think you're any better, Sacker of cities?!" The last one was spat like an insult like a curse, "do you think your hands are clean? You say that the war commensed because of me! That so many Greeks died because of me! Then what about you, Odysseus? What about all the Trojans killed in the city in that bloodbath?! What about all these women and children that are now piled up to be burnt or eaten by dogs and vultures? Who is to answer for THOSE Odysseus?"

Odysseus of Ithaca was frozen in place, shaking in anger but so was she. And she wouldn't be stopped now. She was Helen of Sparta, Helen of Troy, Helen the daughter of Zeus!

"It was your plan, your scheme that got the Greeks inside the holy city of Troy! It was your idea that gave them the way to sack it!"

Odysseus, the eloquent man seemed now unable to respond. He seemed stripped out of his furious anger although some of it was burning inside. Instead he managed to utter

"This massacre wasn't my choice..."

A sound between humorless and mocking laughter and cry came out of her mouth.

"Oh so you tell me you didn't know? You didn't know that the Greeks who were away from their homes, wives and children wouldn't unleash all their piled hatred? Didn't you know they would burn the city that kept them away from them to the ground so it wouldn't rise again?"

He didn't respond. Helen knew he couldn't.

"You say the blood of the Greeks is on my hands. Then the blood of Trojans is on yours!"

Odysseus seemed to have trouble breathing. She had hurt him and she knew it. Perhaps she had simply voiced everything he had in his mind all those days. She could remember how tenderly he spoke of his wife and son. Her husband used to say he identified himself as father of Telemachus not son of Laërtes. Women and children...his son and wife... He seemed ready to either lash at her or leave. However as always The Man of Many Ways sighed and did the unexpected; he spoke again.

"It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not, you know. What it matters is if he does"

Helen took a glance towards Menelaus from a distance. He was preparing the ship. She sighed and returned her gaze towards the man they called "equal to gods".

"But do you?"

"Yes" he finally admitted, "yes I believe you"

Helen sighed in relief. It was her thanking to him

"There is fate between us, Helen..." Odysseus said hoarsely.

Helen didn't need to see his face behind his wide back to read his expression.

"Yes" she replied, "you could have been my husband"

"I am glad that I'm not"

That husky whisper made her look up in wonder. She didn't expect that answer.

"You don't deserve me" the son of Laërtes said, "and I don't deserve you"

He barely looked at her again over his large shoulder.

"I see now why my cousin loved you" whispered she

"And I see why he loved you." Replied Odysseus, "why he started a war for you. Not for his pride; for you. You were indeed worth it..."

He looked at her again for the first time for a while.

"You and I have both blood on our hands" he said grimly, "you, the starter of war, hold the blood of many brave Acheans upon you...while I, the one who ended it, the Sacker of Cities, will have to live for the rest of my life carrying the deaths of Trojans upon me... Women and children..."

He covered his face with his large hand and turned around. He was sobbing.

"Women and children..." he whispered again, "Penelope...my sweet Telemachus...children... infants no older than he was..."

Helen was afraid to ask. She didn't want to know. She had met enough horror for a lifetime. She wanted to move on. She wanted to forget.

"Get home safely, Odysseus" she wished to him, "Husband to Penelope...father to Telemachus. I hope you will get what you wished for..."

"You too, Helen, kissed by the sun like golden Aphrodite...daughter of Zeus. Farewell Queen of Sparta..."

He walked away. Helen heard his voice yelling orders to his men like the expert sailor he was. Helen sighed and smiled so slightly. The title he used...was addressed to her. Odysseus had recognized her admitted her but also signaled her, her fate. She knew now she had a second chance to rectify everything; first for herself and next for everyone else.

The journey had come to an end. A new one was about to begin.

Okay guys I am so sorry I have no idea why or how but yeah...this... I hope you liked it.

#greek mythology #odysseus #the odyssey #greek myth #odyssey #iliad fanfic #homer's iliad #post iliad technically?#helen of troy #helen #helen of sparta #helen and odysseus #him and helen are working through it #the odyssey 1997 #odysseus the master mariner #odysseus of ithaca

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crushpunky · 8 months ago

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im actually curious how did the actress!reader finalize her last season in obx? what happened to her character and how everyone felt?

i’ll give you some of my brief thoughts, but i’m thinking i’ll write something a bit more in-depth later 🤭

i think that she decided pre-season 3 because of the point in her life/career she was in. so much was going on, and i think she figured her character has sort of “run its course” and her time on the show came to a natural conclusion in season 3.

in my mind, her character sort of realized that she needed to leave OBX or she would be trapped there for the rest of her life, unable to explore the world or do any of the things that she wanted. on top of that, i think she realized that her staying in the OBX kept making rafe worse as she was unable to say “no” or not forgive him no matter what. ultimately, her departure marks a big turning point not only for herself (in doing something for herself and nobody else) but for rafe (in being able to love someone so much he’s willing to let her go). all of this, however, does leave her and rafes story a bit open ended considering they still love each other but are apart…

in terms of people’s reactions, i’m not entirely sure. i like to think her departure was natural, but im sure some drama/controversy would undoubtedly pop up on the internet 😀🙄

#obx #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #kook!reader

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persianatpenn · 5 months ago

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Sa'di and the Persian Poetic Tradition

The Persian and Arabic poetic traditions meet at various, fruitful intersections. Though separate languages with distinct linguistic trajectories, among their most prominent commonalities may be the classical qasideh form. Sa'di, otherwise known as Abū Muhammad Musleh-od-Dīn Ibn Abdallāh Shīrāzī ( ابومحمد مصلح‌الدین بن عبدالله شیرازی‎), occupies a particularly curious position in the qasideh’s development in Persian. He is, apparently, known for his vacillation between lettered genres: at once, he was a poet and an author of prose; one known to celebrate the Prophet Muhammad, and simultaneously, speak to the merits of wine consumption; and a writer uniquely capable of shifting between laudatory, humorous, and satirical tones. This weekend, I read Sa’di’s thirteenth century poem, Bedahad būse bar na’āl-e Mohammad, in hopes of understanding his contributions to the Persian language’s development and his relationship with Islam. Further, I hoped to understand the extent to which his qasideh appeared familiar, as I currently study the Arabic rendition thereof.

In Arabic poetics, the coming of the Prophet Muhammad seemed to all but cease previously celebrated written production. It was said that, if Arabia’s famous writers now had access to the Qu’ran, there was no need to write poetry, for it could not compare in its beauty to scripture. The story goes that the venerated Kaaba once sat adorned with the Mu’allaqat (in Arabic, the hanging odes); after the arrival of Islam, it became a monotheistic religious structure. I was thus interested in understanding how Persian poets wrote after the pre-Islamic age: I figured such an exploration might extend my understanding of our shared literary histories and linguistic customs. Somewhat to my surprise, Sa’di’s poetry appeared meaningfully different. His poem in translation seemed to shift the qasideh’s quintessentially celebratory tone toward praise for the Prophet.

Sa’di opens his poem, “The vastness and perfection of the skies are incomparable / next to the perfected vastness of Mohammad.” This line struck me, as it quite openly disavows previous qasideh aesthetics. Sa’di appears to agree with the Arabic language’s development in this regard: we no longer must (exclusively) praise the natural landscapes around us, he says — rather, the arrival of Islam via its messenger discounts that which we once thought uniquely beautiful. He recognizes, still, that the skies are “vast” and “perfect”. Nonetheless, they do not stand in comparison to the Prophet. Curiously, Sa’di also invokes the names of previous prophets: “Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Jesus / Appear together within the shade of Mohammad”.

Although Arabic poetry tended away from praising the Prophet at all, and instead focused more strongly on the veneration of God, it would have been particularly uncommon to reference other prophets after Mohammad’s revelations. Sa’di seems intentional in his connection between Islam and the figures that predated its consolidation. The poet, then, figures his own, Persian customs in brief departure from the qasideh's manifestations in Arabic. Sa’di goes further, referencing my namesake, Bilal: “Out of the abundance of beauties found within the Garden of Paradise / Chosen from the all is Bilal of Muhammad”. Bilal, to Sa’di, belongs to Muhammad, and thus is worth mentioning. Such a subordination of other figures and forms to Muhammad's guise — whether previous poetic praise, earlier prophets, or the Prophet’s companion — appears natural and welcomed from Sa’di’s perspective. He closes the poem, “Sa’di, if you are seeking love and youth / Love of Muhammad and his family shall suffice you”, likewise placing himself within the shadow of the Prophet’s inevitable blessings. Particularly notable is his direct invocation of his name in the poem, a feature unfamiliar to early Arabic poetry.

Sa’di’s poetry greatly interested me for its intersections and contradictions with the Arabic usage of the qasideh form. His words echo the development of Arabic poetry, in that he shifts his focus of praise to the Prophet and Islam rather than nature per se. Simultaneously, he grows somewhat distant from the Arabic tradition. This exploration contributed to my Arabic literary studies, while also enhancing my grasp on Islam's role in its various cultural and written manifestations. Although only an initial delve, I feel increasingly familiarized with one of Persian poetry's approaches to the qasideh and religion. In the future, I hope to better understand how poetry can reveal the commonalities and differences between the Arabic and Persian languages. One departure point might be a close, comparative reading of pre- and “post-” Islamic Arabic and Persian poems. Nonetheless, I am delighted by the opportunity to engage Persian poetry in its own rite, allowing it to rightfully exist on its own accord, too. I have attached a manifestation of this poem in Iranian music, as I found it helpful to hear the words read and adapted as well.

Sacred Persian Verse - Sa’di - The Sandals of Muhammad, n.d. https://www.sacredpersianverse.com/poems-poets/sadi-the-sandals-of-muhammad.

~Bilal

---

Persian text:

ماه فروماند از جمال محمد

سرو نباشد به اعتدال محمد

قدر فلک را کمال و منزلتی نیست

در نظر قدر با کمال محمد

وعدهٔ دیدار هر کسی به قیامت

لیلهٔ اسری شب وصال محمد

آدم و نوح و خلیل و موسی و عیسی

آمده مجموع در ظلال محمد

عرصهٔ گیتی مجال همت او نیست

روز قیامت نگر مجال محمد

وآنهمه پیرایه بسته جنت فردوس

بو که قبولش کند بلال محمد

همچو زمین خواهد آسمان که بیفتد

تا بدهد بوسه بر نعال محمد

شمس و قمر در زمین حشر نتابد

نور نتابد مگر جمال محمد

شاید اگر آفتاب و ماه نتابند

پیش دو ابروی چون هلال محمد

چشم مرا تا به خواب دید جمالش

خواب نمی‌گیرد از خیال محمد

سعدی اگر عاشقی کنی و جوانی

عشق محمد بس است و آل محمد

English translation:

The moon remained hidden from the beauty of Mohammad / No cypress exists with the modesty of Mohammad The vastness and perfection of the skies are incomparable / Next to the perfected vastness of Mohammad A promised meeting for all on the Last Day / Laylat-ul-'israa, the Night of Union for Mohammad Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus / Appear together within the shade of Mohammad It is not the courtyard of this world in which he intends to parade / On the Last Day, watch and see his procession Out of the abundance of beauties found within the Garden of Paradise / Chosen from the all is Bilal of Muhammad Like the ground, the sky desires to fall / In order for it to kiss the sandals of Muhammad The Sun and the Moon do not shine disparately on earth / No light shines except the beauty of Muhammad Perhaps if the sun and the moon seize their light / With the two brows of Muhammad you'll find a shining crescent My eyes have seen his beauty in a dream / No sleep shall overtake these eyes now upon a vision of Muhammad Sa'di, if you are seeking love and youth / Love of Muhammad and his family shall suffice you.

youtube

#iran #persian #farsi #persianpoetry #qasida #Sa'di #islamic poetry #arabic poetry #Youtube

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goldeneyedgirl · 3 months ago

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year of the otp challenge 2025.

january prompt: sharing clothes.

Yes, I'm trying this challenge again because I loved it in 2023. This one is from Runaway-verse; just a little warm-up riff on Jasper's Return after he takes a few months away to roam with Peter and Charlotte. Yes, the xbox tee has returned and I think is practically canon to all my fics now.

runaway-verse, beginning of alice's senior year

It’s after midnight when Jasper finally makes it back to Forks. It’s been a long run - Peter and Charlotte had decided to stay in the Yukon, and he’d gone on ahead. It had been tempting to linger for a few more days, but he had promised to be back a week before school resumed. Carlisle would be annoyed with him, and Alice would be furious - she had barely been onboard with his summer plans in the beginning, and she still had a lot of attachment issues and anxiety. Esme was going to bribe her into some kind of therapy with the offer of her own car, but Jasper was staying out of that.

He privately hated the idea of Alice going to therapy, just because remembering to keep the cover story for the Cullens straight in front of a doctor would probably stress her out even more. But Esme was nothing if not determined. And he couldn’t get too mad - when Alice was stressing out to the point of panic attacks over his departure, it had been Esme who had swooped in and planned out Alice’s entire summer in three-week blocks to distract her from his absence - a trip to Isle Esme, a pre-college art camp in New Hampshire, up to Alaska to see the cousins, shopping trips in New York and Boston, dance classes in Seattle… the list had been endless.

So had the silence - Carlisle had encouraged Jasper to take a satellite phone for emergencies, and leave his cellphone behind so that Alice wasn’t bombarding him with messages the second he left the property line.

“This is just as much for you as it is for her,” Carlisle had said kindly. “Having a human so dependent on you is a massive undertaking, Jasper. The rest of us can lean on each other when it becomes overwhelming, but you have a unique bond and… I don’t want you to suffer for it, and have it affect the very precious relationship that you share - especially when you’ve been working so hard on your control and blending in. You should enjoy your summer. If you want to speak to Alice, you have the satellite phone. We will keep her safe, and I promise that if anything occurs that you need to know about, I will contact you.”

It had felt very strange to leave Alice behind, standing on the porch barefoot and looking about twelve years old as he vanished into the woods. She’d felt lost and anxious in those brief moments before distance broke his reading of her emotions, and the only thing that stopped him from turning around to comfort her was the fact that Esme was waiting just offside to take Alice in and comfort her.

Peter had teased him mercilessly when he had absently mentioned going into towns and cities for Alice for the first few weeks; turning around to check that she was keeping up when she wasn’t even with them.

He’d spoken to Alice three times in nearly twelve weeks. The first time, Alice had had a panic attack when he’d gone to end the call, which had gotten Esme involved. The second time, she’d had a nightmare and called him at four in the morning to demand he stay the fuck out of Colorado, refusing to go into detail about why. The third time was from Isle Esme, wanting to know if he was close by and willing to join the family at the beach; he’d been up the very top of Canada and hearing her hopeful voice had almost been enough to send him immediately to Brazil until Charlotte had told him he was being an idiot.

It was the longest they’d been apart in years.

Leaving his coat and boots in a reeking pile to be dealt with - probably burnt - in the morning, Jasper crept through the back door. He expected it to be a pretty ordinary night - Alice would be asleep upstairs, Edward would be watching Bella sleep, Rosalie and Emmett would probably be upstairs or hunting, and Carlisle and Esme would be somewhere in the house. His plan was to shower, check in with Carlisle, and then read until Alice woke up.

Except he walked in to find the entire family sprawled out in the living room, with a movie playing - Bella was there too, and asleep on Edward’s shoulder.

“Welcome home,” Rosalie said, as soon as she noticed him. “We’re on hour eight of waiting for you to show.” She sounded irritated, but made no move to turn the movie off or move from her position, her legs thrown across Emmett’s lap.

“Alice wanted to wait up for you,” Esme explained, motioning to what Jasper had mistaken for a pile of pillows - wedged in the centre of the pile was Alice, curled up in a tight ball, sound asleep. “I’m afraid exhaustion won in the end.”

“Had to double back coming back into the states, took longer than I thought,” he said. “Let me shower before you wake her up.”

It’s the fastest wash he’s ever had, and he adds the jeans and sweatshirt into the hamper of unsalvageable clothing - twelve weeks of animal blood, mud, venom, and general filth had taken their toll, and he never wanted to see any of those garments again.

He’s coming back downstairs when he hears Esme talking in a low voice.

“Alice, sweetheart, Jasper’s home.”

He’s not expecting the immediate reaction, of a disheveled head popping up out of nowhere and looking around before she locks onto him.

He’s expecting her flinging herself over the back of the couch, still barely awake, at him even less.

And he… well, Jasper didn’t think Alice would change that much in twelve weeks. Alice didn’t change. She grew older, yes, and she’d gained weight since they’d joined the Cullens, and she was definitely taller than she had been when he first met her.

But the girl he’d left behind had still been his Alice, a slightly more grown up version of the kid he’d found in a park at night. There was no single word for what Alice truly was to him - Edward called them platonic soulmates, and it worked as well as anything else. She was a precious commodity, the entity his existence revolved around. He knew it, she knew it, the family knew it; they all vividly remembered the day that Rosalie had suggested boarding school for Alice, when Jasper had first joined them. He hadn’t reacted well, and it had ended with a broken coffee table, Emmett ready to defend Rose to the point of violence, and Alice pleading with Jasper to calm down, she wasn’t going anywhere. She would of course stay with him and the rest of the family.

And the changes wouldn’t have been so obvious if he’d been around this summer. This was on him.

But the shock on his face is obvious to them all. He’s going to regret that.

This version of Alice is a young woman. She’s cut her long hair off and now it falls in soft little waves to her chin, accentuating her neck and the shape of her face. She’s at least another inch taller now, at the roughly five-feet Carlisle always said she’d be.

And she’s wearing one of his old t-shirts over shorts. It’s hilariously too large for her, hanging down to her knees and leaving one shoulder bare, but she looks gorgeous in it. She is gorgeous, even sleep rumpled and clinging to him like her life depends on it.

“Jasper, you’re home,” she says, her face muffled in his shirt. She still smells the same, her emotions still feel the same, and he gathers her up in a hug. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Carlisle’s given him several talks over the years about how humans change and grow. He thought he understood that Alice would change. He’d witnessed it - how many new clothes had he found her, how many times had he braided her hair, how many times had he answered her questions. He had witnessed all of it - he’d been at her side since she was thirteen years old, and now she was… almost eighteen.

Eighteen. It was like she’d waited until he was gone to finish growing up.

(She’d worn his clothes numerous times before, wrapping herself in giant hoodies when she was cold or it was raining; borrowing his old hunting shirts to paint in; throwing on one of his button ups when she went swimming at the river or sunbathing before Carlisle caught her and lectured her on the risks of skin cancer. He’s not sure why a threadbare Xbox t-shirt has him flummoxed. He’s lived through the era of corsets, of bra burning and free love, and now he can’t stop staring at a teenage girl in an oversized t-shirt as Alice pulls him back towards the living room.)

“You’re late, you said Tuesday - it’s technically Wednesday,” Alice manhandles him back into their spot, amongst the cushions and immediately crawls on top of him when he sits down. “Tell me everything, where did you go?”

He makes the mistake of looking at the rest of the family then, and immediately regrets it - Emmett and Edward are giving him looks to kill. Edward’s is just a narrowed glare, thanks to Bella still sleeping next to him, but Emmett’s is a flat-out threat of murder.

This is not what he agreed to when Carlisle suggested a summer vacation - his brothers plotting his imminent murder, Rosalie watching the movie with pointed focus, Esme exchanging looks with Carlisle and Carlisle visibly trying not to laugh.

All whilst Alice buries her face in his neck and demands he tell her everything he’s been up to, whilst Bella drools - and snores faintly - against Edward.

Shit.

(Alice smells like peaches and saltwater and him, and somewhere Peter is laughing his ass off that the Major of Monterrey has just been undone by his best friend in his old shirt.)

He’s in so much trouble.

#my fic: runaway #year of the otp 2025 #not sure if this is canon to runaway yet #but a fun riff #carlisle leaves the death threats to emmett #jasper thought it was bad when alice was invited on a date in junior year #her senior year is his hell #all glow-ups are cancelled on his watch #esme's gone all mama-bear and carlisle's just shrugging this off because he knew this would happen

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luckyemo · 1 month ago

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my personal canon/canon extrapolation komahina timeline

PRE KAMUKURA PROJECT HPA - i dont think they ever formally met at hopes peak when hinata was in the reserve course. the most they were aware of each other was komaeda seeing chiaki hangout with the same random reserve course and hinata seeing unimpressed glares from komaeda

FIRST MEETING - komaeda and hinata (or at the time, kamukura) first meet when komaeda and nanami are searching for tsumiki like how its shown in the dr3 anime. when komaeda and kamukura touch colours flash everywhere bc the danganronpa universe is actually a soulmate au and komaeda and hinata are the only soulmates we see/know about and despite initially attacking one another, komaeda is instantly infatuated by kamukura (+ their potential for hope) and kamukura is equally intrigued by this sickly walking corpse with one foot in the grave that survived a bullet shot at his chest at point blank range (a ‘i cant kill him so i have to fuck him’-type fascination) and Needs to know everything about the enigma that is komaeda

AFTER BRAINWASHING - immediately after class 77-b falls into despair (like that night immediately) kamukura and komaeda have sex somewhere on campus a la absolute hope birthday. i also headcanon there to be a short time period (couple weeks-couple months) between when class 77-b was brainwashed vs when they "graduate" and unleash depair onto the world, and during this latent period theyre fucking like every night

START OF DESPAIR ERA - before they leave hopes peak kamukura has class 77-b, including komaeda of course, brainwashed into forgetting their brief past and likewise erases their own personal memory of the remnants of despair. they are still like Aware of one another and know the roles they represent (like leader vs lackey) but personal memories are gone. deep, deep, deep down theres a faint feeling that remains within both kamukura and komaeda, like a gut feeling or instinct of "ive known you more intimately than anyone else and need to know that again" but if and when they do meet up again this feeling can easily be written off as just like regular attraction so its not like they really know about their own shared past. the reason kamukura does this is to keep things interesting from their perspective, perhaps worried theyd grow bored of the one (1) thing that they find interesting, or maybe just a short-sighted attempt at maximizing personal pleasure bc the only thing more fun than finding the ultimate object of ur affection and learning everything about him is finding and figuring out everything about him over and over and over again right

DURING DESPAIR ERA - over the course of the worst most despair-inducing incident in the history of mankind, kamukura and komaeda (eventually servant) would group up (and hook up) fairly frequently. after every interaction kamukura would brainwash them both into forgetting what happened. sometimes these link-ups would only be for the night but sometimes it'd be stretched into days or weeks (especially if they were working towards a large goal like razing a city). the other remnants had a similar relationship with kamukura (minus the fucking) (mostly), with occasionally grouping up to accomplish something but always disbanding and brainwashed into forgetting one another. for most of the remnants this happens at most like 5 times over the couple of years of the tragedy but for komaeda its like 2-5 times a month. again because this is sci-fi the brainwashing is pretty targeted so no one forgets they have a duty to cause despair, but any relationship formed is just a ghost memory.

DRAE - the end of drae when komaedas talking to monaka is just after a recent kamukura departure and brainwashing. kamukuras the one who got komaeda on monakas back bc there aint no way komaeda did that himself lmao. when they were working together kamukura (very cryptically) mentions their plan with the junko ai and nwp, and this is why komaeda tells monaka something will call him away soon (but also doesnt go into detail bc he literally doesnt have the details in his brain anymore and probably wasnt even told them in the first place lol)

BOAT TRIP TO ISLAND - here we see them meeting "for the first time" again (lol). i think kamukuras initial reaction is how they would always initially react to komaeda, like thinking they already had him figured out perfectly but once komaeda introduces his ideals of hope and despair to kamukura they're hooked. i also think its so so so funny that kamukura (+ presumably post game hinata) can smell komaedas rotting brain/diseases bc komaeda cares a lot about cleanliness and hygiene and yet his soulmate is like woof u stink oh the irony

NWP - in the nwp hinata and komaeda are of course drawn to one another right away and want to figure the other out completely. even after komaedas outburst in chapter 1 trial, even after komaeda finds out the truth in chapter 4, they still just Want To, Need To Know and understand the other. they both have a not so obvious crush on the other but nothing comes from it during the game. i really like the sentiment they have for one another at the end of island mode and see them having something similar in the game proper; hinatas coming at it from like he likes komaeda and he knows komaeda likes him and expects komaeda to make the first move and is surprised when komaeda wants to only be friends, but hinatas too tsundere to be that honest with his emotions and would never say that outright or let his own feelings be know and will wait for komaeda to be ready, and with komaeda being just about completely enamoured with hinata but unable to allow himself to be happy or in love, stuck on the idea that he doesnt deserve the pleasure of love or companionship and hinata doesnt deserve the inconvenience, especially with all the other shsl students around that hinata could/would potentially date.

POST NWP - after hinata and the survivors wake up from the nwp they all work together to wake the other remnants up from their pods. komaeda, of course, is the last to be woken up due the intensity of their simulation death and complications with their other conditions. hinata worries himself over komaeda’s pods for weeks, almost 2 full months, trying everything he can. sometimes (most of the time) he skips meals and sleeping, and pushes himself as hard as he can using every talent in her arsenal to wake komaeda up. hinata no doubt blames himself for being one of the despair ringleaders and for bringing the junko ai into the nwp, and with that on top of his not so minor crush for komaeda, so he really cant be reasoned with when the others tell him to take breaks. thankfully his kamukura project altered body can keep up with his motivations + desires.

SDR2.5 - i really dont have much to add, like i think sdr2.5 happens like it happens. you really dont have to wear your yaoi goggles too tight here but one thing i want to point out is the flashback komaeda has when he hears hinata's(/world destroyer's) voice for the first time is similar to how the brainwashed-into-forgetting memories komaeda and hinata have about their time during despair. like nothing is super clear but they might be able to remember a fuzzy snapshot or a vague setting or a brief action etc

POST SDR2.5 - after komaeda is woken up hinata is so relieved, and the two spend the next 5 or so days doing medical tests, prosthetic fittings, and some physical rehab. they spend nearly every hour together due to hinata not wanting to leave komaeda’s side. the others comment on this but hinata uses the excuse of “im his doctor” when they tease him about his very obvious crush. komaeda is going through a lot of changes, physical ability changes, ideology changes/restructuring, and hes really starting to sit with the idea that he can live and enjoy his life, including his love life.

DR3: HOPE ARC - after the remnants stop mitari and depart on the boat komaeda and hinata naturally find themselves drawn to one another, like always. during the few days trip back to the island komaeda and hinata shift from being really good friends to friends with benefits to some shaky form of partnership. what happens specifically is hinatas like “hey i’ve really enjoyed what we’ve been doing, do you want to like keep doing it” bc thats as direct as he can be with his emos and komaedas like “of course” but doesnt ask for details at the time. neither realizes at the time but hinata was only referring to the last week or so when it was just them two together (since he has been awake from the simulation longer being in the nwp/despair days is more distant to him) but komaeda thinks hinata is referring to the whole expanse of their relationship (since he hasn’t been awake as long and feels more like a continuous time period). despite this, theres not a huge misunderstanding of the circumstances of their relationship beyond hinata thinking they are exclusive with one another and komaeda thinking they’re casually open. (this comes up eventually but theyre chilling for the time being lol)

POST GAME - the remnants return to jabberwock and start their new life there. komaeda and hinata share a cottage and their domestic life consists of sharing meals and chores and healing along with their friends. occasionally some of the remnants are called to the mainland by the future foundation for a mission, and hinata is almost always required to go, and the distance is always emotional for them. the warriors of hope are brought to the island at one point and though all the remnants are raising them together everyone knows hinata and komaeda are the main parents. their relationship blooms, they get older, the kids grow, they have a threesome with souda(+ others) on more than one occasion, and they get perpetually closer to achieving their goals of fully understanding one another 🍀🌻

#for the post game part i could go on foreverrrrrrrrr but i just wanted to get thru the highlights bc this was long enough #but thank u for reading if u did :D #my posts #komahina #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #hinakoma #kmhn #hinata #komaeda #*boba manifesto tune* this is my komahina manifesto

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rjzimmerman · 3 months ago

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In case we need visual reminders......

This photo:

The Palisades Fire burns near homes amid a powerful Santa Ana windstorm on January 7, 2025, in Pacific Palisades, California. A record-hot summer in California during 2024, combined with near-record dryness in southern California late in the year, helped set the stage for the catastrophic wildfires that have ravaged the region this week. (Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images)

And this chart:

And these maps:

Departure of temperature from average for 2024. North America, South America, Europe, Oceania, and Africa all had their hottest year on record. Asia had its second-hottest year on record, while Antarctica had its 17th-hottest year on record. It was the hottest year on record in more than 100 countries – including China, Canada, Mexico, Germany, Brazil, Greece, Malaysia, and South Korea – and in areas where a total of 3.3 billion people live, according to Carbon Brief. No regions experienced record cold. (Image credit: NOAA)

Change in average yearly temperature from 1995 to 2024. The regions with the strongest warming have been the Arctic, Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and the waters off the Northeast and Western U.S. coasts.

Excerpt from this story from Yale Climate Connections:

In 2024, the planet broke the record set in 2023 for the hottest year on record, NOAA, NASA, the European Copernicus Climate Change Service, Berkeley Earth, and the UKMET Office reported on January 10. There were 14 straight months of record-breaking global temperatures from June 2023 through July 2024, and the July global temperature value was likely the hottest of any month since 1850.

Human-caused climate change added an average of 41 days of dangerous heat globally in 2024, and it is likely the total number of people killed in extreme weather events intensified by climate change in 2024 is in the tens or hundreds of thousands, according to the World Weather Attribution group and Climate Central.

According to Berkeley Earth, 24% of the Earth’s surface experienced a locally record-high annual average temperature in 2024. Local record annual averages impacted an estimated 3.3 billion people — 40% of the global population — with 104 countries setting new national records for their annual average, including China, Canada, Mexico, Germany, Brazil, Greece, Malaysia, and South Korea.

Global ocean temperatures and land temperatures in 2024 were both the hottest on record, said NOAA. The record heat in the oceans in 2024 brought on a global coral bleaching event, the fourth one in recorded history (1998, 2010, 2014-17, and now 2024).

The year 2024 was the first in which global average surface temperatures exceeded 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels in the five leading datasets, with departures from average ranging between 1.46-1.62 degrees Celsius. (The differences in the datasets arise largely from using different baseline years for pre-industrial climate, such as 1850 versus 1880, and from slight differences in how researchers account for data-sparse areas such as the Arctic, especially prior to 1900.) While record heat in 2023 and 2024 was expected because of a strong El Niñ0 event that occurred in the Eastern Pacific, the full magnitude of the heat both years was higher than expected, for reasons that climate scientists are trying to understand.

Reaching 1.5 degrees Celsius in an individual year is not equivalent to a breach of the Paris Agreement’s 1.5°C limit – which refers to long-term warming over a period of 30 years – but it nevertheless indicates that the world is quickly approaching this internationally agreed threshold.

#global warming #climate change

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h0neytalk · 1 year ago

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Mango v. LingQ v. Anki

I’ve been using the above apps for a while now and I couldn’t find a ton of somewhat easy to understand comparisons/explanations of how to use these various cult favorites. I figured I would make one if anyone is wondering where to start or making a departure from Duolingo.

Standard langblr disclaimer: I am ultimately just a person on the internet, I’m not an expert in language learning or a world renowned polyglot. I’m not even an expert in any of these apps/programs. These are all just thoughts and opinions I have about the value of each app to myself as an average consumer trying to learn a language and intended to help other people decide where to spend their time.

Anki

Anki is an open source spaced repetition flashcard program. It has an incredibly loyal fan base of med students and people who just want to learn things. This is also the one I have the least experience with so I recommend diving into forums and other blogs who go in depth on all the ways you can use this program. The web version is completely free and there is an official paid mobile app. There are also unofficial paid apps, this is the source of great drama and discourse and I’m not touching that here. Spaced repetition essentially means that the program will present you with cards at intervals designed to maximize your retention. When you flip over a card, you have four options that boil down to: fail, hard, good, easy. This is how the program determines what to show you and when.

Key Features:

The main draw is obviously the spaced repetition system. It’s much easier and more effective than sorting manually.

Because it’s open source, there is a way to customize the settings and cards to do basically whatever you want. There are also tons of premade decks to import and either use as-is or use as a base.

The online web version is completely free.

You can add really any media type to the cards. You can add sound clips of pronunciations, images, even drawings and diagrams.

Having the four options is particularly useful for the nuances of learning a language. For example, for general vocabulary decks I’ll assign one “point” to general meaning, tense/part of speech, and pronunciation. Getting the general meaning but not the other two means I select “hard” when I flip the card.

Best uses:

Vocab or learning a new alphabet. Specifically for drilling any of those “slippery” words. I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but there are some vocab words that just refuse to stick with me. I’ve found the Anki SRS does help pin them down.

Potential downsides:

While there are decks to import, there could always be errors that you won’t catch just seeing single vocab words with no context.

The available customization is labor intensive.

The UI for the official app and web version isn’t super slick and intuitive.

Even the best flashcards are ultimately just flashcards and have limits to their usefulness.

Mango

Mango is similar to Babbel or other programs that focus on speaking (and doing so quickly). I much prefer Mango to Babbel or any other similar app and find that it does what it says it will. Languages are split into units. Each unit has chapters and each chapter has lessons. A lesson will start with an optional pre quiz and a brief recording of a conversation that you will be able to follow by the end of the lesson. Each lesson concludes with a listening and reading quiz. It also utilizes spaced repetition and gives you daily flashcards to review.

You learn based on phrases rather than individual words. A long sentence will be presented in its entirety. The lesson will then go through each word individually before combining them into phrases and, finally, the full sentence from the start. Then you will learn vocabulary needed for variations. The activities are fairly standard for a language app: speaking, listening, multiple choice. You can also turn off the interactive feature and have the lesson run as a “speak and repeat” style podcast. It tracks the hours you’ve spent learning a language and there is an activity log, but no in depth stats.

Key features:

It is focused on speaking immediately.

Has a ton of languages and several dialects for those languages.

Focuses on phrases and patterns that are most useful if traveling or having brief, friendly interactions.

Presents information in a digestible way and isn’t overwhelming.

Includes culture and grammar notes.

$12.99 a month but most public libraries and schools give you free access. You can also set up a household account for multiple people and split the cost with friends/family.

The first lesson of any language is free, and some rare and indigenous languages are completely free to access.

Audio is native speakers. When you record yourself, your vocal wave pattern appears that you can compare with the native speaker.

Best uses:

If you are traveling soon and want to navigate basic, friendly interactions, this will get you there quick. Within 1-3 months easily, depending on the language and how often you practice.

I also recommend this as a starting place when you are totally new to a language or to learning a language in general. The structure is excellent for getting a feel for things.

This is also great if you studied a language previously and need to refresh your memory or get back into it.

Potential downsides:

The “record yourself” feature is fairly buggy and often freezes up. It can also be annoying to try and match the timing of the native speaker, but you don’t have to record audio to progress past those lesson points so it isn’t too much of an inconvenience.

It isn’t meant for total fluency. As stated, the lessons (at least that I have done) are focused on speaking while traveling and making small talk. Some of the early lessons teach you to say “sorry, I don’t speak [x]”. Which is very useful if going abroad soon, but less so if you would rather just be able to speak that language.

The regimented nature can make it feel slow/too easy if you are also using other methods.

The review flashcards only have a binary “yes/no” option which feels annoying for longer phrases or after using Anki-style cards.

With any course like this, you aren’t going to have much choice in the vocab you learn or prioritizing topics.

LingQ

I am honestly surprised I don’t see more about this. I think they have been making a bunch of updates recently so maybe the version I’m using is miles above previous ones, but it is shockingly powerful. It’s also the hardest to explain (which may be why I don’t see much written about it and why this is going to be a long section.) LingQ (pronounced “link”) operates on a hybrid comprehensible/massive input model. While Anki prioritizes memorization and Mango priorities speaking, LingQ focuses on comprehension and listening. LingQ is comprised of courses which are made up of lessons. There are pre-built courses made by LingQ but the real goal is to make your own (more on that later).

Each lesson within a course has an audio recording and a written transcript. Words you haven’t seen before are highlighted blue (when you start, that’s every word). You click the word to see the definition and assign it one of 5 statuses: ignore, new, recognized, familiar, learned, or known. “Ignore” is used for things like names or borrowed words, they won’t be counted in your stats. “Known” is for words you knew before seeing them. You likely won’t have any of these if you’re starting a new language with no prior experience. Levels 1-3 highlight the word yellow and it becomes a LingQ. You can create a LingQq using as many words as you want. You can manually change the status of a word when you see it. You can also do various review activities similar to Mango, and if you get a word right twice in a row it will automatically bump up a level. You can always adjust it back down if needed. LingQ is very focused on the value of listening to a language. You can add lessons to playlists and listen to them like a podcast.

My personal favorite part of LingQ is the ability to import lessons. Especially YouTube videos. The site has a browser extension that will import any content in your target language into a lesson as an embedded item. You can then read/listen to/watch that content right in the app and get “credit” for it. LingQ’s statistics are some of the coolest/most motivating I’ve seen. You get coins for completing tasks but those are really just to see a number get bigger. It also tracks the words you’ve read, how many words you know, the hours listened, and speaking/writing if you utilize their tutor marketplace or writing forum.

The free trial is very limited but it’s enough to poke around and get a feel for things before signing up, not necessarily to learn anything substantial. The monthly membership is $12.95 and there’s a $199 lifetime option as well. I definitely recommend spending some time playing around at the free level and then upping to monthly if you like it.

Key features:

The ability to import lessons. It will also create a simplified version of shorter content. This is an AI generated summary of whatever you’ve imported. I use this for videos where natural speaking cadence can make it hard to parse things sometimes. It’s easier/more productive if I know generally what’s going on.

The creation of LingQs. I just think it’s a really cool and useful way to approach comprehensible input. You can visually see the yellow fading as you understand more and more of a lesson.

You can export LingQs to Anki (theoretically). I’ve never done this myself and I’ve seen some forum posts saying it doesn’t work super well all the time but it is a built in feature.

In-depth stats tracking and the ability to consume all the content easily in app. The stats would be annoying if it wasn’t literally easier to watch a video via LingQ than on YouTube.

Community features. There are community challenges (like Duolingo) but also a forum to submit writing that will be corrected by native speakers and a marketplace of tutors to easily sign up for speaking lessons. The forum is free and volunteer based, but scrolling through I didn’t see anyone who didn’t have at least one reply. The tutors are paid at an hourly rate and you can also pay by the word to have them correct written work.

Super flexible. There really isn’t any one right way to use this app so you can structure it however you like and set your own goals/metrics.

Playlists and focus on listening. It really does help to constantly be immersed in what a language sounds like, and being able to read and listen to the same thing has been so nice.

Actually decently helpful emails and not just spam.

Best for:

Hardcore language learners. The app/site provides some guidance on how to get started and the basic idea, but you’ll need to play around with it and spend some time reading forum posts or the emails they send to find what works for you.

Getting to higher levels of fluency after maxing out other apps/self study methods.

People looking to spend a lot of time on language learning because they enjoy it. This isn’t snarky, but there’s a difference between wanting or needing to learn Spanish to communicate at work or on vacation and just really enjoying learning languages. This is an app for language nerds.

Potential downsides:

Very overwhelming. They technically say you can jump right in with 0 knowledge of a language and be good to go, but I think it would be hard to make a lot of progress unless you’ve learned other languages before. If you’re looking to learn a new language for the first time, I recommend starting with Mango to get your bearings.

Doesn’t teach new alphabets. This isn’t a huge issue for Mango since it’s speaking focused, but I wouldn’t jump into Arabic or Russian on LingQ without spending some time learning the alphabet with other methods.

User generated definitions. This is a double edged sword. The definitions being linked to sites like Globse can lead to wrong definitions, but because you’re seeing things in context it’s easier to catch. And looking into what a phrase means is a great way to learn if you are really into languages.

The import feature isn’t 100% perfect when it comes to videos. It will only create a transcript when the video has captions enabled or a transcript provided, otherwise it just shows up as an audio file. It will also sometimes randomly just not be able to import a video which can be annoying, but in the grand scheme of things these are very minor annoyances.

Time commitment. The method doesn’t require a ton of actively sitting down and reviewing vocab or reading new words, but it does assume that you’ll swap out listening to music or podcasts while going about your day with listening to content in your target language. This is all well and good unless you really enjoy listening to specific content while doing tasks or need help not getting distracted. It’s going to be a lot of incomprehensible noise for a while before you can parse it. This might not be a downside as much as something to keep in mind when considering how effective it’s going to be for you.

Not as active of a community. Maybe it’s just for my particular languages, but there definitely aren’t a ton of people actively doing things like challenges. This really doesn’t matter much to me but it could be a bummer if you’re looking for that.

tl;dr just tell me how to learn things

If you need to learn a new alphabet, start with that. Otherwise, Mango to get your bearings, Anki to add to your vocab as you get bored with Mango, and LingQ to realistically get “fluent”. Then start writing and speaking either using tutors or people you know or local language groups.

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corrosive-equilibrium · 1 year ago

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Rebirths

(WORLDBUILDING FOR VITRIOL AU ONLY)

To continue off from the general ghost lore and type categories, there is another subset to go over: rebirths.

Rebirths are the results of a ghost's type category being changed into another, typically by force. This phenomenon turned taboo originated from essentially the ghost version of graverobbing.

When a ghost ceases to exist (departs/departure), their essence is returned to the Ghost Zone. During the departure, their damaged core releases the base properties of what makes up the ghost, one of them being the type category. It's basically the structure of their DNA. It is in this brief time window that others could harvest the base properties being released and keep them long enough to be tangible/stable.

Departure is something many ghosts are respectful about. A natural ghost has reached the end of their existence; a limbo ghost is experiencing their second and final death. Ghosts tend to say their last goodbyes or leave the departing ghost alone to have their last moments be peaceful. Harvesting base properties from departing ghosts is seen as being disrespectful, however, that didn't stop the many ghosts that did so out of curiosity.

The rebirth process phenomenon was prominent during the early Primary Era, when the Ghost Zone was known as the Abstract World and when type categories were established. Type categories are formed alongside the ghost, both natural and limbo. There was no possible way for a ghost to change their type categories until curiosity got the best in many and ghosts began experimenting on their own. Using the base properties released from departing forms, ghosts would infuse these properties into materials in order for them to not return to the Ghost Zone. From there, these materials (typically in metal form) would be converted into weapons or other tools. Ghosts discovered that in order to undergo the rebirth process, one must force these converted tools into their core for the properties to be absorbed, whether having an open wound that leads to the core or forcefully creating one.

However, the end result varied from many ghosts ending up in departure, as it was all trial and error. Many tried different type category properties that overwhelmed the core into failure, or some ghosts didn't survive after a tool was stabbed into their center. Afterwards, the desired result came down to using the same type category properties from various departing ghosts. The rebirth process is a painful one and it led to many rebirths suffering from the trauma of it, especially when the process was permanent. Those researching this phenomenon would turn down the opportunity while others would continue out of cruelty.

The rebirth phenomenon quickly died down as soon as the ghost king at the time became aware of it, forbidding the process to ever be performed. Many ghosts would find any material infused with core properties and seal them away. There were precautions taken for fabricators and anyone creating weapons to always check the materials/metals they use. Rebirths who suffered from the process were seen as something pitiful or some sort of abomination. It turned into a taboo that even after the dismantling of the law system (King Pariah's defeat), these precautions were still practiced throughout future eras.

In later eras like the Tertiary Era, rebirths are rare and are typically results of an accident. Many rebirths would enter rehabilitation areas to process the trauma and heal, while others try to move on and get used to their new forms. They've become a part of the Ghost Zone just like any other ghost.

Features of their previous type categories would carry over to the rebirth form, and their cores would store some of the previous properties into memory. Offspring with rebirth parents will typically carry the traits of their parents' original type category pre-rebirth as a result.

#danny phantom #vitriol au #concept art #worldbuilding #rebirths #currently have a hand injury going on #I wish I could draw more but can't atm :(

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bratshaws · 1 year ago

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through the hourglass 298.brb x oc

a/n: do yall like when i write action scenes or stuff like that? i m trying my best i swear.(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/253/254/255/256/257/258/259/260/261/262/263/264/265/266

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278/279/280/281/282/283/284/285/286/287/288/289/290/291/292/293/294/295/296/297

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca

They were finally going to leave the base after grueling days after dealing with the breach and making sure it was safe to. He was still suspicious, but he had to hold it in as he made his way to the jet. “McAllister.” he nods to the younger pilot, pointing to the large aircraft “How’s she lookin’?”

McAllister, standing by the jet, immediately saluted Rooster, trying to hide how startled he was. "Sir, she's prepped and ready to go. All systems are green, and the maintenance checks have been thorough. We've double-checked everything after the breach incident. Should be smooth sailing."

Rooster studied the jet, a mixture of trust and wariness in his eyes. The recent security breach had heightened his vigilance, and he wasn't about to take any chances, especially when it came to the safety of his team.

"Good work, McAllister," Rooster acknowledged, clapping a hand on the younger pilot's shoulder. "I appreciate it. Let's get everyone on board and take off as soon as possible. Anything else I should know before we take off?"

"Just the standard pre-flight briefings, sir. Weather conditions are optimal for the route. All necessary supplies are loaded, and the communication systems are in top shape. We've also received the latest intel updates, and everything seems clear."

Rooster acknowledged the information with a curt nod. "Keep an eye on the communication channels. I want to be informed of any anomalies or irregularities immediately. And McAllister, if anything feels off, even the slightest bit, you let me know, understand?"

McAllister’s blue eyes widened "U-Understood, sir. I'll keep you informed of any changes," McAllister affirmed, his gaze focused and determined…and one quick salute thrown his way,one that Rooster nodded off.

As Rooster turned to make his way towards the jet, he felt a presence approaching from behind. Phoenix walked up with a confident stride, helmet tucked against her waist. "Rooster, everything set for departure?"

Rooster met Phoenix's gaze,"Yeah, we're ready to go Nat. Keep an eye on the navigation systems and stay vigilant. I want everyone on high alert until we're clear of any potential risks."

Phoenix nodded, a serious expression settling on her features. "Got it. Me and Bob are ready…" she pauses, “Brad.”

First name basis.

Serious talk.

She lowers her voice, “...should we…” she flicks her gaze to the side once they were left alone, “Be aware of something else? On the way up?”

Rooster glanced around, ensuring that their conversation wouldn't be overheard. The wind whistled softly, carrying the distant sounds of the base and the hum of the jet's engines.

"You mean aside from the usual protocols and the security breach?" Rooster raised an eyebrow, signaling for Phoenix to proceed.

Phoenix hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the jet. "Yeah, I mean, it's just... something doesn't sit right with me. After the breach, after the rumors, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this mission than what we've been told."

Rooster sighed, his shoulders tense and high. "I've been feeling the same way, Nat. The breach, the rumors, it's all adding up to something I can't quite put my finger on. But we need to be cautious and discreet about how we handle this. We can't let paranoia compromise the mission." he looks back to the others, “Are the others–”

“They are fully aware too.”

“Good.” he looks back at McAllister who will be his co-pilot once again, “Let’s get ready, comms open,got it?”

The atmosphere inside the jet was of an anticipated readiness, like they were all ready to do this. Rooster took his seat in the cockpit, adjusting the controls with practiced precision. Beside him, McAllister focused on his tasks, running through the pre-flight checklist.

"Bob, Phoenix, make sure you've got a clear view of the navigation systems. We need to stay on course, and I want real-time updates on any changes," Rooster instructed over the intercom, his voice calm and authoritative.

"Copy that, Rooster," Bob's voice crackled through the communication system.

He nods, even if they couldn’t hear, turning his head towards McAllister “All good?”

McAllister nodded, his hands steady on the controls. "All systems are green, sir. Ready for takeoff on your command."

Rooster acknowledged with a firm nod. "Good.You keep an eye on the sensors. I want to know if anything comes up, no matter how small. Guys, stay vigilant on communications. We need to know if there are any unusual activities."

The jet's engines roared to life, the sound echoing across the airstrip. Rooster guided the aircraft smoothly down the runway, the anticipation building with each passing second. The night sky stretched above them, a canvas of stars and darkness.

As they ascended into the sky, the tension inside the cockpit mirrored the uncertainty that hung over the mission. Rooster's mind raced with thoughts of the breach, the rumors circulating among the team, and the unshakable feeling that something was amiss.

Phoenix's voice broke through the cockpit's intercom. "Rooster, sensors are clear for now. No anomalies detected."

"Good. Maintain alertness," Rooster replied, his eyes scanning the instrument panel. The hum of the jet and the distant whir of the engines formed a rhythmic backdrop calmed him down immensely “Hangman?”

“All good here too.” Jake replies “Nothing weird going on.”

The jet sliced through the night sky, its powerful engines propelling it forward into the darkness. Rooster maintained a focused demeanor, his hands steady on the controls.

Phoenix's voice echoed through the intercom. "Rooster, all systems are stable. We're on course, and sensors are still clear."

Rooster acknowledged with a terse nod, his gaze shifting between the instrument panel and the expanse of stars outside.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension within the cockpit intensified. The team remained vigilant, each member fulfilling their assigned roles with precision. Rooster, acutely aware that one pilot hasn’t talked to him yet.

“Mark?” he asks “How are things on your end?” he tries to forget how Mark acted earlier, thinking it’d only be stress…nothing more

There was a brief pause, a moment where the only sound in the cockpit was the steady hum of the jet's engines. Rooster's gaze lingered on the communication panel, awaiting Mark's response.

"Mark, do you copy?"

Finally, Mark's voice crackled through the intercom, its tone guarded. "Yeah, I'm here, Rooster. Everything's fine on my end. Just focusing on the mission."

He glared down at the intercom,then inhaled. Something in his tone was…off. The air inside the cockpit seemed to thicken, an unspoken tension hanging in the space between them.

"Good to hear. Stay sharp, everyone," Rooster instructed, his voice firm. The jet soared through the night, a silent arrow cutting through the darkness. He looks outside for a brief second and all he could see was the ocean. “McAllister?”

“Sir?”

“Hit me with the updates,what have you got?”

"Sir, we're approaching the designated coordinates. No signs of any unusual activity or potential threats so far. All systems are functioning within normal parameters."

Rooster nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the navigation display. "Good work, McAllister. Keep a close eye on the sensors. We need to make sure we're not walking into anything unexpected."

"Understood, sir. Monitoring sensors closely," McAllister affirmed.

As the jet continued its steady course over the vast expanse of the ocean, Rooster couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered. The tension within the cockpit, especially with Mark's guarded response, was palpable. Rooster's mind raced, considering the implications of the breach and the possibility of internal threats.

He decided to address the elephant in the room. "Listen up, everyone. We've had a breach, and I need to be certain that everyone on this team is committed to the success of this mission. If there's anything anyone needs to share or any concerns, now is the time to speak up. Our safety and the success of the mission depends on it."

The cockpit fell into a tense silence. Rooster could almost feel the weight of unspoken words, the hesitation that hung in the air.

“Anything?”

More silence.

“Good.” he sighs,rolling his neck, “Remember, it’s mainly scouting right now, keep an eye out everyone.”

The jet continued its journey through the night, slicing through the air with a purpose that belied the tension within. The team, each member locked into their roles, navigated the dark expanse with a heightened sense of awareness.

Rooster's mind, however, remained fixated on the unspoken dynamics within the cockpit. The breach had cast a shadow over the mission, and the palpable unease among the team members only deepened his concerns.

“McAllister, talk to me.”

McAllister adjusted his headset, the blue glow from the control panel casting an otherworldly tint on his face. "All systems are running smoothly, sir. Sensors are clear, no anomalies detected so far. It's like a ghost town out here."

Rooster nodded, his eyes scanning the navigation display. The ocean stretched endlessly beneath them, the moon casting a silvery glow on the rippling waves.

As the jet soared through the night sky, Rooster's mind remained alert, every sense attuned to the surroundings. "Keep an eye on the horizon, McAllister. We're entering the target area," Rooster instructed, his voice firm.

The tension within the cockpit heightened as they approached the designated scouting zone. The darkness below seemed impenetrable, a void that concealed both potential threats and vital information.

Suddenly, McAllister's voice cut through the stillness. "Sir, picking up a faint signal on the radar. It's irregular, doesn't match any known patterns."

Rooster leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at the data on the screen. "Can you identify the source?"

McAllister furrowed his brow, fingers dancing across the console. "It's intermittent, sir. I can't pinpoint the origin. Could be interference or something else."

Rooster's instincts kicked in, his lips pursed. "Maintain course but be on high alert. We don't want any surprises. Let me know if anything changes."

The jet continued its path through the designated area, the tension within the cockpit rose. The intermittent signal added an extra layer of uncertainty to an already delicate situation. Rooster's mind calculated various scenarios, each one requiring a different response.

The minutes ticked by, the team on edge, their eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement or activity. The ocean below seemed vast and unyielding, the moonlight creating shifting patterns on the water's surface.

Suddenly, McAllister's voice broke the silence again. "Sir, I'm detecting an anomaly in the water. It's registering a disturbance, like a turbulence pattern, but there's no storm reported in this area."

Rooster's gaze snapped to the sensor readings. "Give me more details."

McAllister's fingers flew over the controls. "It's a localized disturbance, approximately two clicks ahead. The water temperature in that area is fluctuating rapidly. I can't explain it, sir."

Rooster's mind raced as he processed the information. A disturbance in the water, anomalies on the radar—something wasn't adding up. The team, now fully aware of the potential threat, intensified their focus.

"Prepare for a low pass, McAllister. We need visual confirmation," Rooster ordered, his voice cutting through the tension.

The jet descended, flying just above the water's surface. The moonlit ocean unfolded beneath them, revealing the mysterious disturbance. As they approached, the team strained their eyes to make sense of the anomaly.

"Sir, visual contact confirmed," McAllister reported. "There's something in the water. It looks like... wreckage."

Rooster's brow furrowed. Wreckage in the middle of the ocean raised more questions than answers. He instructed McAllister to zoom in on the visual feed, attempting to discern any identifiable markings or signs of recent activity. “What kind?”

"Looks like a ship," McAllister remarked, his voice quiet. "But there's no distress signal, and no lifeboats. It's as if it just... fell apart."

Rooster studied the wreckage intently, his mind calculating possibilities. "Check for any markings or identification. We need to figure out who this belongs to and what happened."

As McAllister manipulated the controls to enhance the visual feed, the jet circled the area, providing different angles of the scene. The team noted the absence of any discernible logos or flags on the wreckage, making it difficult to determine its origin.

"Sir, I can't find any identifying markers," McAllister reported, frustration evident in his tone. "It's like this ship came out of nowhere."

Rooster's gaze remained fixed on the debris below and before speaking, he paused, his mind snapping to one thing and one thing only.

Trap.

The jet continued to circle the wreckage, the team analyzing every detail they could discern from the visuals. Rooster's mind churned with possibilities. A sunken ship, devoid of markings, raised concerns. A lot of them.

"McAllister, check for any signs of recent activity," Rooster instructed, his gaze unwavering. "We need to know if this is recent or if it's been here for a while."

McAllister nodded, manipulating the controls to enhance the visuals even further. The jet's advanced sensors picked up traces of fuel residue and disrupted marine life around the wreckage, indicating that whatever happened had occurred relatively recently.

"Sir, it looks like this wasn't too long ago. There's still some residual heat and disrupted marine activity." McAllister reported.

Rooster contemplated the information, a frown creasing his forehead. The absence of distress signals meant either a catastrophic failure that prevented any communication or a deliberate effort to keep the incident under wraps.

Both scenarios added layers of complexity to the situation.

"Keep scanning the area for any signs of life, survivors, or hostile presence," Rooster ordered, his tone decisive. "We need to gather as much intel as possible before making a decision."

As the jet continued its surveillance, the team remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the water for any signs of movement or unexpected activity. The moonlight played on the ripples of the ocean, casting an eerie glow on the scene below.

"Sir…no life forms.," McAllister announced, his fingers swiftly navigating the controls. “There’s…there’s no one down there."

The enhanced sensors revealed no signs of electronic interference or abnormal energy readings in the vicinity. The wreckage seemed to be a result of a conventional maritime incident, yet the absence of distress signals and life forms continued to puzzle the team.

"Sir, there's nothing unusual in the readings," McAllister reported, a hint of frustration in his voice. "It's a straightforward wreckage, but the lack of survivors or any communication is... unsettling."

Rooster nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Alright." he sighs, eyebrow twitching in anger, he knew something was off about this, “Everyone…return to base.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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berakahelite · 2 months ago

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amphtaminedreams · 11 months ago

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Mid-year Fashion Update for 2024 in (Mostly) A-Z Format: RTW, Pre-fall, & a Little Haute Couture Plus my Top 25 (Part 3)

-clockwise l-r: Petar Petrov RTW F/W24, Pressiat “, Private Policy “, Puppets and Puppets “-

-top to bottom: Philosophy di Lorenzo Serafini RTW F/W24, Prada “, Preen by “, Thornton Bregazzi “-

-clockwise l-r: Plan C RTW F/W24, R13 “, Rahul Mishra haute couture S/S24, RTW F/W24, Rave Review “-

-top to bottom: Prabal Gurung RTW F/W24, Atelier Prabal Gurung RTW F/W24-

-top to bottom: Proenza Schouler RTW F/W24, Rabanne “, Retrofête “-

-clockwise l-r: Ralph Lauren RTW F/W24, Renaissance Renaissance “, Self-Portrait pre-fall 2024, RTW F/W24, STAND STUDIO “, Simon Miller “, Regina Pyo “-

-clockwise l-r: Reem Acra RTW F/W24, Reverie by Caroline Hú “, Rick Owens “, Rochas “-

-clockwise l-r: Richard Quinn RTW F/W24, Roberto Cavalli “, Rokh “-

-clockwise l-r: Róisín Pierce RTW F/W24, Roksanda “, Roland Mouret “, Rui Built “-

-top to bottom: Sacai pre-fall 2024, RTW F/W24, Sandy Liang “-

-clockwise l-r: Saks Potts RTW F/W24, Sea “, Shuting Qiu “, Schiaparelli haute couture S/S24, RTW F/W24, Sinéad O'Dwyer “-

-top to bottom: Shiatzy Chen RTW F/W24, Simone Rocha “, Sportmax “-

-clockwise l-r: Steve O Smith RTW F/W24, Stine Goya “, Sunnei “, The Row resort 2025, Theory RTW F/W24, TIME “, The Garment “, Supriya Lele “-

-top to bottom: Thom Browne RTW F/W24, Tom Ford “, Tommy Hilfiger “-

-clockwise l-r: TOGA RTW F/W24, Tokyo James “, Tolu Coker “, Uma Wang “-

-clockwise l-r: Susan Fang RTW F/W24, Talia Byre “, Tamara Ralph haute couture S/S24, Samuel Guì Yang RTW F/W24, ShuShu/Tong “, Tanya Taylor “-

-top to bottom: Tory Burch RTW F/W24, Ulla Johnson “, Versace “-

-Valentino RTW F/W24-

-clockwise l-r: Valentino haute coutre S/S24, Undercover RTW F/W24, Vaquera “-

-top to bottom: Vetements RTW F/W24, Victoria Beckham “, Florentina Leitner “ (saved image under Victoria not Florentina…oops) -

-top to bottom: Vivetta RTW F/W24, Vivienne Tam “, Y/Project “-

-clockwise l-r: Vivienne Westwood RTW F/W24, Viviano “, Weinsanto “, Yirantian “, Wiederhoeft “, Viktor & Rolf “-

-clockwise l-r: XULY.Bët RTW F/W24, Windowsen “, Yohei Ohno “, Zimmerman “, Zuhair Murad “, Yohji Yamamoto “-

-clockwise l-r: Saint Laurent RTW F/W24, Yuhan Wang “, Ujoh “, William Fan “-

The Best of the Year (So Far)

So…this is the second time I’ve included a brief quick summary of my top 25 collections in one of these posts. I used to write my thoughts on everrryyy single collection and the whole process took me a fucking millennia every time, to the point that once I finally got round to posting, 2 seasons worth of collections had come out in the meantime. Sticking entirely to photo posts feels kind of pointless to me because these end up feeling completely impersonal. Like yeah, I only pick my favourite looks from a collection for the final post but there seems to be sooOooO many bloody brands out there these days that including brief notes to emphasise my faves throughout would be like dropping needles in a haystack and expecting them to catch somebody’s eye.

To round off the posts with my top 25 feels like a good middle ground to plant my roots in, so I guess this is going to be tradition from now on? On which note, in no particular order, let’s get into my 25 standout collections of 2024 thus far:-)

I promise I will ACTUALLY make it snappy. Mostly, anyway.

-clockwise l-r: Gucci RTW F/W24, MarkGong “, Armani Privè Haute Couture S/S24, Rokh RTW F/W24-

1. Gucci RTW F/W24, creative dir. Sabato De Sarno: Every and I mean every Gucci collection that has, and will be, debuted over the next couple of years counts rn. We get it, you hero worship Alessandro Michele, I hear anybody who has had the patience to sit through any of my previous fashion posts crying. But regardless of whether I was an Alessandro devotee or not, the first couple of years following the departure of a well-established and imo! Visionary! creative director is crucial for their successor, as it establishes the direction they’ll be taking the brand going forwards.

The first Gucci collection we saw under de Sarno had me worried, I can’t lie. It was such a stark departure from what I’d come to expect from Gucci that I thought, well, that’s it folks. Gucci’s done. It was safe, minimalistic, yeah expensive looking, but ultimately just really bloody boring. All that being said, with the benefit of hindsight, I suppose I see that debut show as de Sarno’s way of signalling Gucci’s renewed commercial viability. Bland looks are nothing if not versatile, and versatility of course increases the widespread appeal of a brand. Some of Alessandro’s looks were out there, which I can imagine made it exciting for the detached onlooker (myself), but probably not great for the brand’s shareholders. After all, the goal is to make money. Yep, it’s the worst isn’t it? How profit so often is prioritised at the cost of art!

I think what this collection showed me is that just because de Sarno seems on a mission to promote the brand’s accessibility, essentially one of toning things down in favour of broadening the target market, that doesn’t mean all I’ve loved about Gucci over the last decade is lost.

Far from de Sarno’s S/S24 collection, there were a number of similarities between this one and the Gucci I came to know and love under Alessandro. Though it still lacks Alessandro’s eclecticism, it is reassuring that even in these early days, more of the character the former creative director infused is beginning to shine through.

I can’t fully say Gucci is BACK! But what I will say is that PARTS of what I love about Alessandro’s Gucci is back. All I wanted from the last collection was a bit of EDGE for Christ’s sake, OPULENCE, dark romanticism, gothic touches. Ultimately, S/S24 lacked a sense of power, like the quiet ferocity and intimidating, yet mystical presence that defined the best looks we saw on Alessandro’s runway; in my mind, this signalled the character he brought to the brand was being forced back into the box. On the contrary, de Sarno’s F/W24 collection played homage to the legend in many ways. The inclusion of deathly platform heels, black lace and faux leather, for example, indicates de Sarno is more inspired by Alessandro’s abandonment of the “quiet luxury” ideal, a bigger admirer of his carefully curated undercurrent of danger and disruption, than I previously thought. To say de Sarno fully leaned into the witchy glamour Alessandro brought to the table is a stretch but this collection did have hints of that aura, with the opulent jewell toned fabrics, snake print and sequins littered throughout a promising acknowledgement of that other-worldly, underground cabaret vibe Alessandro channelled when he was at his best.

If everything I’ve said about this collection so far sounds critical, it’s only because I’m holding de Sarno’s early work, upon which I’m sure the burden of ensuring commercial viability weighs heavy, to Alessandro. We’re talking someone who had been creative director for long enough to likely be entrusted with far greater creative license. So comparison aside, in a vacuum, I can say I do adore this collection. Gucci RTW F/W24 has been a major relief because it seems the new team spearheading the brand don’t intend to abandon Alessandro’s vision completely.

2. MarkGong RTW F/W24, creative dir. Mark Gong: obviously, I had a lot to say about Gucci, I’m highly invested, but I can sum up why I was so fond of most of the other collections on this list much more succinctly, don’t worry, lmao. When it comes to MarkGong for example, it kind of felt like a manifestation of how y2k would interpret the 90s (as was the case in actuality with the 2000’s ‘70s resurgence), with the best elements taken from both and combined in one collection. Though the ‘90s grunge influences, reminiscent in many ways of Marc Jacobs’ famous Perry Ellis collection, were more obvious, I like how a bit of the old y2k sleaze was brought into the picture too. It kinda felt like a tour through the wardrobe of a Cali from the Valley party girl who’s going through her rebellious phase, iygm. Either way, I get me, and that’s why MarkGong is on this list because yeah, it’s a cute collection.

3. Armani Privè Haute Couture S/S24, creative dir. Giorgio Armani: I never thought I’d see the day an Armani collection in any form would make it onto this list, because my general feeling is that more often than not, I find it a little saccharine, aggressively prim and proper, you know. The stying usually has those models looking like a cross between a 2000’s era Barbie doll and the kind of outfit your rich grandma would try to force you into. I mean, with context of Giorgio being an 89 year old man, it makes sense. So I’ve got to say it, I was truly taken aback by how much this collection actually worked for me. It’s not like it was jarringly different to what I’d expect, the head to toe looks are still, for the most part, youthful and girlish, it’s more that they fully committed to the dress-up fantasy, consequently, this feels a lot less uptight than the image I’ve come to associate with the brand. Instead of pedestrianising the princess look, Armani leaned in, to a dreamy, candy coated effect.

4. Rokh RTW F/W24, creative dir. Rok Hwang: Rokh is a firm fixture in my seasonal favourites list by now, and whilst this collection stayed true to Hwang’s formulaic balance between elegance and edge, I really appreciate the subtle bohemian touches, and the nomadic feel this collection has. It broaches into new territory for the designer, and one I find quite mesmerising at that. Whilst Hwang’s collections typically feel sleek, distinctly modern, this one is more free-spirited and earthy. Though I get a bit of a Pride and Prejudice vibe, the modern day tailoring and signature deconstructed feel of the looks, along with current street style rooted silhouettes, ensure this collection, whilst a departure from the expected, remains true to the brand’s identity.

-clockwise l-r: Dilara Fındıkoğlu RTW F/W24, Courrèges “, Khaite “, Vivetta “-

5. Dilara Fındıkoğlu RTW F/W24, creative dir.“: Dilara stayed true to form with her F/W24 collection. As ever, her designs give the wearer an imposing, battle-worn aura, without ever compromising the ethereal, other-worldly beauty of the garments. The end result is that this particular collection felt like a darkly mesmerising visual tale of a kind of fallen angel on earth, who excels so highly at navigating the depravity of a Victorian era criminal underworld she ends up in that even once she descends to hell to reign as the Bella Hadid adjacent it-girl of the underworld, her fleeting, vampiric presence on earth spawns many an urban legend in her wake. If that isn’t an excellent proposition for a new Netflix original series (since I know they seem to love throwing money around left, right and centre at new shows these days), I don’t know what is. I would like to state for the record here that if Netflix want to take me up on that offer I’ll forgive them for prematurely cancelling Mindhunter whilst continually renewing Riverdale and subjecting us to Cole Sprouse as a result:-)

6. Courrèges RTW F/W24, creative dir. Nicolas Di Felice: I’m not usually a minimalism girl but Courrèges does it in a way which feels uniquely futuristic. Like if the Tesla man had half the brain cells he thinks he does and managed to actually do something significant in space, head-to-toe Courrèges would be an incredible outfit choice for the rope cutting of an intergalactic nightclub. Unfortunately, even if Teslatubby wasn’t so full of shit, and actually possessed the level of genius he wants to convince us of, he is clearly too busy fine tuning the Twitter algorithm into subconsciously red pilling everyone to be building bars in space. As a sad result, Courrèges can wait, I say, as if I can afford their stuff anyway…as if the 75% increase in the price of a large bag of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons in less than 2 years doesn’t have me in a tailspin.

7. Khaite RTW F/W24, creative dir. Catherine Holstein: I don’t have all that much to say about Khaite except that I think it’s very cool, lol. A very lame descriptor, ik. I know I trash minimalism all the time and it could be argued that Khaite’s collections are pretty stripped back but I think in this instance, I like that, because it feels like it hasn’t come straight from a drawing board of neutrals, rather an exercise in restraint of the darker, grungier aesthetic. Rather than going down the deconstructed, oft-unfinished look you’d typically associate with that style, Khaite seems a re-imagining of trends under the alternative umbrella in line with the tailoring, simplicity and functionality associated with prestige fashion houses. Whilst working for a hedge fund management company in London sounds like a fucking nightmare, in this parallel universe where I do end up in one of those nonsense jobs, Khaite would be right up my alley. Not only in terms of what I’d look to for inspiration if I had to don the uniform of a rush hour briefcase wanker, lol, but also because I’d definitely reach for their designs, being the staple pieces they are, on a low-key day too. In true British fashion, I did of course mentally envision the corresponding briefcase wanker Inbetweeners scene as I typed those words. Forgive me, the appreciation for that show is just one of a very limited number of things which unites Britain as a country.

8. Vivetta RTW F/W24, creative dir. Vivetta Ponti: Vivetta’s F/W24 is giving “I’m not a regular crazy cat lady, I’m that bitch kind of a crazy cat lady”. So, you know, in other words, it’s kinda twee, but also kinda provocative, and the balance feels correct. Not to celebrate adultery in any way but this for me, is all girl-next-door, Jess from new girl vibes on the surface, with a undercurrent of this bitch could steal your menzes running strong underneath. The whole collection feels like something Marina would have worn during her Electra Heart era.

-top to bottom: David Koma pre-fall 2024, RTW F/W24-

9. David Koma pre-fall 2024, creative dir.”: so, although I’ve included David’s RTW collection, my adoration goes to his divine pre-fall collection this year. I just included 4 looks from his RTW collection as my new tradition dictates is the protocol when I’m listing my top 25, which is to include 4 of my favourites looks from every collection listed. If I do a whole 8, I’m just repeating what I’ve already done when I originally included said brand in the post, ygm? Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I was unexpectedly disappointed in Koma’s RTW collection, a rare occurrence mind you, so I just chose 4 of the best looks from it for continuity to go along with pre-fall. On that note, let’s talk about this pre-fall collection: it was perfection! There’s a lot of references to the hyper-girlish coquette and ballet-core aesthetics we’ve seen become widespread fashion crazes, but whereas the trend (ordinarily, I suppose it depends on how you style the pierces) is ordinarily quite demure, casual, and semi-virginal at times, Koma adds high glamour and sex appeal. There are plenty of bows, whites and pastels, but the loose linen, cheesecloth, and babydoll silhouettes are gone and replaced with svelte body-con dresses, plunging necklines and daring cut outs, as well as plenty of black and bold reds throughout. I can’t work out if it all leans more into a dominatrix vibe or it’s giving me Dita Von Teese, but what I do know is this collection has SPICE. It’s seems fit for the same fallen angel type I just wrote about Dilara’s collection reminding me of, with the difference being that in this scenario, god (…or his angels…or whoever it is that takes care of the banishing from heaven stuff if you’re so inclined to that way of thinking) drops her into a crowd of Y2K party girls rather than 19th century Britain. I am hyper aware of how niche my analogy is here, so I apologise that I need to be this pretentious and self-referential, but…I’m just fully aware I’m not capable of holding anybody’s attention for long enough for them to otherwise know what I’m going on about, lol! A vivid, easily stimulated imagination is a blessing and a curse, play your tiny violins for me:-)

-clockwise l-r: Chloé RTW F/W24, Tom Ford “, Burberry “, Oude Waag “-

10. Chloé RTW F/W24, creative dir. Chemena Kamali: This collection was SOOOO GORGEOUS, I HAVE NO WORDS. This is the wardrobe of modernised 70s goddess come to life-soft, decadent, ethereal, just ARGH! Perfection in every way. I am so excited for everything Chemena Kamali is going to do with Chloé if this is anything to go by.

11. Tom Ford RTW F/W24, creative dir. Peter Hawkings: I’ve never really expected anything from Tom Ford. Like when I think of Tom Ford, I usually think of perfume? Expensive perfume but perfume, nonetheless. But you know what, this kind of ate? IDK what was in the water with these designers when RTW F/W24 collections were being put to paper, but once again, this collection was very reminiscent of the Studio 54 era. It seems a minimalist yet luxuriant kind of modern spin on the colours, shapes and fabrics of late 70s bohemian rock, only in a way where the end results are tailored towards the competitors at every decadent invitation-only party’s unspoken best dressed contest. If the brief is expensive, eye-catching, bold, something which moulds the wearer into being the “you either want to be her or be with her” cliche then any number of the pieces from this Tom Ford collection would hit all the criteria.

12. Burberry RTW F/W24, creative dir. Daniel Lee: Burberry is so hit or miss for me, but this was a dramatic yet practical, luxurious, at-times punk influenced hit. Am I saying that because there’s a bit of tartan? Perhaps. But what I am sure of is that I would commit crimes for some of these coats honestly. Speaking of, I might be way off but the fur pieces are a bit mob-wife if my understanding of that vibe is anywhere near accurate. I feel increasingly out of touch with the internet so I don’t actually know, but if I’m right, this is the kind of thing I’d be alright with mafia money paying for. Reassuringly, when envisioning what I’d wear with a knock-off outerwear piece inspired by this Burberry collection, I did not once start to feel like I was veering into the RHONJ cast cosplay zone so I feel like despite the excess, these hopefully faux (though probably not) furs pass the sophistication test. Regardless, it’s okay, I’m not getting anywhere near purchasing the real thing anyway, lol.

13. Oude Waag RTW F/W24, creative dir. Jingwei Yin: Courrèges with a sprinkle of ‘90s grunge and a hint of Morticia Adams. That is to say that I loved the Courrèges F/W24 collection but I love this even more.

-clockwise l-r: Cecilie Bahnsen RTW F/W24, Marni “ Ottolinger “, Moncler Grenoble “-

14. Cecilie Bahnsen RTW F/W24, creative dir.”: a somewhat utilitarian repurposing of her signature dainty, whimsical approach to womenswear, Cecilie’s F/W collection found itself in alignment with the widespread appreciation of softness, delicacy, and innocence that’s been a prominent theme of this year’s F/W24 collections. But this is no case of Cecilie jumping on the bandwagon. Cecilie has excelled at this kind of thing for years, and I’ve pretty much always a fan of her vision. She’s never aggressively chaste or child like in her designs, and does it in a way that’s subtle enough to set her apart from the many, many designers who tried their hand at going all cottagecore this year. Mostly, Cecilie relies on gentle silhouettes and playful yet elegant fabrics to evoke a sense of both fragility and mischief fuelled allure, which in turn creates a sprite-like feel to her looks. All that being said, her work is multidimensional, equally grounded in and hardened by reality, suitable for a jaded 21st century woman. In this sense, as much as I see Cecilie’s collection is not dissimilar from a lot of the others that debuted this season, it is also quietly confident that the pivot towards this wistful, semi-angelic vibe is best when it’s done in a low-key way, and balanced out by a sullen sartorial armour of grungy utilitarianism: I like to follow the guidance of my Google image archive of Courtney Love 90’s style when I envision an outfit, so when it comes to Cecilie’s instinct to finish off a tulle dress with a clunky shoe as RTW F/W proved she knows how and when to do with tact, my appreciation for her work each time feels driven by a force of habit.

15. Marni RTW F/W24, creative dir. Francesco Risso: The FUR COATS!!! Yeah that’s ART.

16. Ottolinger RTW F/W24, creative dir(s). Christa Bösch and Cosima Gadient: Impromptu after-hours metal concert at the corporate office? Wild end of financial quarter orgy? Apocalypse hits the Conde Nast HQ? The stealth wealth Pinterest girlies find themselves contestants in a Battle Royale type situation? We’ll never know exactly what the starting point was for this Ottolinger collection but it feels like the visual devolution of the high-powered professional, a deconstruction of that idea of what’s tasteful, sophisticated, intelligent, into something that’s liberated, futuristic, a lot more punk, and generally much more suited to joining a biker gang than sitting in a boardroom negotiating the value of a 2 page Dior (bleurgh) spread. It’s a very hot and very cool collection, I know that much anyway!

17. Moncler Grenoble RTW F/W24, creative dir. Reno Ruffini: Cosy but cunty? Yeah, I’m on board. And I say this despite the probability of me ever going on the kind of holiday which necessitates I own anything like this being slim to none. Not only because such trips are the kind of things that I can only see the appeal of to rich people, who get to go on so many “vacations” a year they don’t see a skiing trip as sacrifice of what could’ve been a week spent spent sun soaking by the pool in an all-inclusive Spanish resort (because I’m not hitting the necessary vitamin D threshold any time soon without this kind of get away, let’s be real) but also because I find skateboarding difficult enough without adding snow into the mix and the risk of death for some as inherently incapable of keeping my balance for more than about 20 seconds at a time as I am is very high.

-clockwise l-r: Alaïa RTW F/W24, Alberta Ferretti “, Alexis Mabille Haute Couture S/S24, Yuhan Wang RTW F/W24, Etro “, Roberto Cavalli “, Zimmerman “, Altuzarra “-

18. Alaïa RTW F/W24, creative dir. Pieter Mulier: Now having my expectations set high by Cher Horowitz spending her potential last moments at the hands of a dangerous criminal pleading her Alaïa dress be spared like a mother would her firstborn child, when the brand returned to being a fashion week fixture, I was disappointed. It was nice but nothing breathtaking. This collection, though? Stunnnnning. I too would take affront at a mugger’s rough-handedness with my clothing more so than the mugging in itself if these pieces were collateral damage. Would kinda feel like at work when people fill up our baskets with wine and run out. Like you want to steal, I’m laissez-faire on the matter, but how dare you take our baskets in the process? Bring a tote bag, losers!

19. Alberta Feretti RTW F/W24, creative dir.“: not sure exactly why but Alberta Feretti is often interchangeable with Ermanno Scervino for me. Maybe it’s because they both have names I would sound like a FOOL pronouncing, but they also have a similar aesthetic. Neither are out here shaking the status quo but I always love their collections. This year Alberta edged it for me. Not unlike Scervino, the choice of an earthy, subdued colour palette for the season felt like an intentional choice to contextualise the F/W24 collection’s existence as a companion to the S/S24 line, with rich, moody hues positioning the garments as the sensual night time follow up to the daywear collection. It is clear where Ferretti going with the S/S garments; they captured the essence of what I imagine an idyllic summer spent lovestruck in Lake Como would be perfectly, and there were some divine pieces. The F/W collection, however, had a lot more drama to it, going beyond the free-flowing, ornate style Ferretti is known for and adding a little androgyny, and at times gothic mystery. If the S/S24 collection was giving me a bit of a goddess off-duty in the human realm vibe, the F/W24 outfits bounced between signalling an effortless yet imposing sophistication in the face of a unexpectedly harsh winter in the city, and a plethora of dresses which would be just the right choice for a moonlight red carpet against the backdrop of the Italian lakes. In both instances, the clothes lend themselves to a wearer who catches every eye on the room but remains aloof, unattainable, like they have much more important places to be. I almost wrote that the dresses would be a good fit for the Cannes film festival before I remembered that Cannes is in the South of France, which doesn’t speak to the distinctly Mediterranean feel I get from a lot of this collection. I can see a lot of the casual looks in Paris, for sure, and I am perhaps making my judgement based on the prominence of the olive tones throughout the collection, lol, but I just don’t feel like the deep Jewell tones and the silks are fit for a city which I’ve always known to be pretty much climatically similar to London. The dresses which closed this collection need SHIMMER and SUNLIGHT, overcast would kill the magic. It’s not just the olives!

20. Alexis Mabille Haute Couture S/S24, creative dir.”: there’s always going to be at least one pretty dress collection in my top 25, and this Alexis Mabille Haute Couture offering is this year’s offering of choice. It’s very modern Disney Princess I think!

21. Yuhan Wang RTW F/W24, creative dir.”: since the day I first stumbled on a Yuhan Wang collection, each one that’s followed has been consistently flawless. It’s almost like seeing the fully-realised version of my personal style, in this reality where I could afford it ofc, come to life. It’s that magical balance of cutesy, feminine and flirtatious with a dark, slightly gothic force which toughens the former up and adds just the right amount of messiness to hint at a streak of rebellion and dare I say it (because it’s a phrase a LOT of people are probably sick to death of, understandably so since Taylor Swift used it to characterise Reputation for FUCK’S sake) but…female rage? I’M SORRY. It’s a little bit punk, but just…punk for the girly girls, you know!

22. Etro RTW F/W24 creative dir. Marco De Vincenzo: As is likely the case for many of the brands I’ve listed in my top 25, it’s highly unexciting of me to include Etro, one of my fail safes in this again. For that same reason, I feel like a fraudulent fan for not even realising Marco De Vincenzo took over the creative director position in 2022. That makes a LOT of sense to me now, because the vibe HAS changed a little bit over the past few years. I think I mentioned before how I’d noticed Etro becoming increasingly explicit with their branding in the last couple of collections, and though it’s easy to say I’m drawing the comparison because both use a crocodile in their logo, I really did think it was looking a bit…Lacoste? A lot safer, more laid-back, bright, breezy, if you get me. But this collection felt like a promising return to form!

23. Roberto Cavalli RTW F/W24, creative dir. Fausto Puglisi: Was this collection a bit tacky at times? Totally. But at its best it felt like a meeting of the early 2000’s socialite look (I’m talking about the stumbling out of the club dresses, obviously), Coachella fashion at the height of its significance in the mid 2010s, and a Studio 54 vibe. When you’ve got such great ingredients, you can never fuck up THAT badly and when you succeed, you get this deliciousness.

24. Zimmerman RTW F/W24, creative dir. Nicky Zimmerman: Super predictable of me to include Zimmerman in my top 25 but this collection was as elegant, romantic, and catered to the free-spirits amongst us as I’ve come to expect Nicky Zimmerman’s work to be to be.

25. Altuzarra RTW F/W24, creative dir. Joseph Altuzarra: Altuzarra’s F/W24 collection was stamped in my memory for all the right reasons. It was a playfully, modern take on classic silhouettes and tailoring, with a vibrancy about it emerging from a quality beyond the relatively subdued colour palette. Whether it stems from the checkerboard prints, the whimsical head wear, or dramatic ruffles, there’s wit and a lightness of spirit about the collection, which is neutralised by by oversized, androgynous silhouettes and harsh graphic prints. I think for me, Altuzarra’s RTW F/W collection was a great example of how to pull off ditsy, childlike details in a way that transcends the innocence and naivety underlying a kid’s choice of clothing, instead evoking confidence and maturity without losing touch with the charm and nostalgia associated with childhood.

So that’s it’s for now girlies:-)

But on a serious note…I know I previously stated I wanted to start every post by driving home what the Israeli government are continuing to do in Gaza, which in plain terms is nothing short of ethnic cleansing, but for the format of this post, it didn’t fit to do that until now, so I want to reiterate it here: THIS IS STILL. FUCKING. HAPPENING. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

A couple of days ago, the IDF again struck the supposed “safe zone” of Rafah, which they had claimed was a haven for refugees. Their actions continue to be as morally abhorrent as ever. Let us PLEASE not buy Israel’s clear-as-day BULLSHIT explanation of this being a “tragic” accident. You do NOT FUCKING “ACCIDENTALLY” bomb a refugee camp, AN ENTIRE REGION. THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN. I cannot BELIEVE this is still occurring, and that President Joe Biden, in amongst a chorus of Israel’s other defenders, is only now beginning to make vague mentions of a ceasefire. A CEASEFIRE IS NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH. A “TWO STATE SOLUTION” IS NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH. Let’s be clear Hamas have been proposing ceasefires since this entire IDF campaign started. All they have asked for is that Israel stop the attacks, and that they will give up Israeli hostages in return. Netanyahu has TURNED THIS DOWN, because he has no intention of stopping in forcing Palestinians out of the region all together, be it through their slaughter or permanent displacement. The Israeli hostages mean NOTHING to him.

Palestinians deserve to return to their homes, they deserve Israel and every other complicit nation’s investment in rebuilding their communities, reparations, self-determination, and reclamation of the ancestral homelands they have been continually forced out of for the last 50 years. Maybe we have turned a corner and a ceasefire might finally come but it has NOTHING to do with the Israeli government’s cooperation, and it’s not a just resolution to the damage, destruction and slaughter Israelis and their allies have encouraged and facilitated in any way.

The death toll today, by conservative estimations, nears the 40,000 mark. A report conducted by Euro-Med Monitor, published on reliefweb.int proposes this number exceeds that. According to this source: “The Israeli army has killed 42,510 Palestinians over the course of its 200-day attack, 38,621 of whom were civilians, including 10,091 women and 15,780 children. The bodies of several thousand are still stuck under the rubble, while thousands remain missing and are presumed dead. These statistics include the killing of 137 journalists, 356 medical personnel, and 42 civil defence personnel.” Numbers only do so much, and fail to convey the horror of what every one of those individuals and their families have suffered through. Palestinians are being murdered at a rate of roughly 250 citizens per day, according to a report published by Oxfam in January of this year. If, and when, a ceasefire comes, this isn’t enough, and should be just the start of a push to hold Israel responsible for the destruction of Palestinian people and their culture. That’s what we ought to be reiterating now that these “ceasefire” talks are beginning, as well as the fact that these talks have absolutely NOTHING to do with Israeli leaders developing a conscience. All I can speculate is that as the US presidential election looms, Biden is realising how detrimental his revolting apathy to Palestinian suffering could be to voters. He cannot get away with this half-arsed U-turn nor can any of the ministers who have backed and facilitated Israel’s genocide over the last 8 months. WE HAVE A GENERAL ELECTION APPROACHING IN THE UK! And though it seems likely the Conservatives will be out, Labour do NOT deserve a sweep. The best outcome we can hope for is they end up as the minority governing party, so that even if they win, they know many of us are equally disgusted with their actions.

THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO TONE DOWN OUR DISSENT. Politicians careers are on the line right now, and the incentive for them to listen to what we will not stand for going forward I’m sure weighs more heavy on their consciences (if they have them) than EVER.

AROUND 40,000 PALESTINIANS ARE DEAD. THEIR HOMELAND HAS BEEN DESTROYED. WE NEED TO KEEP THE FUCKING MOMENTUM GOING. KEEP BOYCOTTING, PROTESTING, POSTING, THINK CAREFULLY ABOUT YOUR VOTE. WE DO NOT HAVE A 2 PARTY SYSTEM HOWEVER MUCH STARMER, SUNAK, AND THE TABLOIDS WANT US TO THINK. LOCAL POLITICS REALLY FUCKING MATTER RIGHT NOW!

The fashion is fun and all, but I couldn’t finish this post without reiterating where we’re at right now when it comes to the most pressing concerns we ought to be focussing on.

With all that being said, thanks for reading if you did! On the mid-year fashion update front, it’s over and out from me! Hope this was somewhat enjoyable, and if nothing else, you enjoyed the pretty pictures-and fingers crossed, I’m echoing the common sentiment with what I included about Palestine.

ONCE MORE FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK: FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

Lauren x

#Fashion week #pfw #paris fashion week #high fashion #fashion inspo #haute couture #style inspo #style #roberto cavalli #alaia #etro #gucci #marni #ottolinger #oude waag #tom ford #Chloé

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