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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

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Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up.

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em! 💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites.

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley��s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him.

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself.

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings.

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them. The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day.

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back.

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.”

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now.

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer.

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins.

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head.

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you.

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat.

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table.

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.”

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom.

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

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ncisfranchise-source · 1 month ago

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Alden Parker’s NCIS team just isn’t the same with Jessica Knight not on it.

Season 22, which premieres this Monday at a special time (8/7c on CBS), picks up some six months after Jessica bid D.C. (and beau Jimmy Palmer) adieu, to head up the REACT Team based out of Camp Pendleton.

Knight’s exit “kicked off a chain of reaction of changes for the rest of the NCIS team,” Katrina Law previews for TVLine. “We find Torres (Wilmer Valderrama) has gone back to his roots and is now on an undercover mission, and McGee (Sean Murray) is interviewing for a new job [as NCIS Deputy Director]. That leaves Parker (Gary Cole) sitting alone at his desk in the bullpen, staring at all of our empty desks.”

Ergo the season premiere’s title, “Empty Nest.”

Knight meanwhile is “fully immersed” in her REACT job, “at the very beginning stages of a huge personal growth,” Law notes. “For years now she has been happily cruising in the shadow of her very high-powered father, but the freedom and the strength that Knight finds in making career and personal decisions that are 100-percent her own, it’s quite liberating.”

On the flip side, “that also means that any mistakes, any regrets that she has, now falls squarely on her shoulders,” Law says. “She’s at a stage right now where you basically see her going, ‘I couldn’t make my dad happy, I couldn’t make Jimmy happy, so you know what? I’m just going to do my own thing, purely based off of my wants and needs, and not include anybody else.”

Speaking of Knight’s mistakes….

The season opens in jarring fashion, with her holding a clergyman (!) hostage (!!) in the REACT Training Center, and demanding to get a lawyer, to hash out the sticky situation. But unlike TV’s usual, tried-and-true in media res gimmick (where we’d then get a “24 HOURS EARLIER” chyron), Knight’s dilemma plays out in real time, with occasional flashbacks to how she got in this mess.

“All of a sudden we kind of start going back and forth between what happened that led up to the day, and it’s this whole, ‘What’s happening? Who’s telling the truth? Who trusts who?’ thing,” Law teases. “It’s quite exciting and unique, and a lot of fun.”

Amidst the hostage drama, might the season opener find time to give viewers a sense of where things stand for Jessica and Jimmy (Brian Dietzen), whose relationship was already getting a bit wobbly ahead of her decision to leave D.C. for San Diego?

“You will get a sense,” Law allows, explaining that Jimmy’s daughter “has been making sure that we have been staying in touch.” So, Victoria is on Team #KnightInShiningPalmer…? “Very much so,” Law confirms with a smile.

Meanwhile back in the big orange room, Vance (Rocky Carroll) and McGee will find their efforts to help Torres with his undercover op repeatedly stymied by a new character, Inspector General LaRoche (played by Castle vet Seamus Dever and a seemingly endless supply of mints).

Will Jessica’s puzzling hostage sitch somehow result in her rejoining Parker’s team, and on a full-time basis? Law is mum, but teases at lease one cliffhanger to come.

“We have some questions that are definitively answered” at the end of the season opener, she says, “but then there is one big cliffhanger that is going to take us throughout the season.”

#ncis #interview

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sdwhalewatch-blog · 2 months ago

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Are you looking for Gray Whales and Whale Watching in San Diego

San Diego, with its shocking shore and dynamic marine environment, is ideal for whale watching. Every year, the city becomes an impermanent home for dark whales as they embark on their momentous relocation. This yearly scene draws nature devotees everywhere, anxious to observe these beautiful animals at home.

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What's in store on a Whale Watching Journey?

A whale watching tour isn't just about spotting dark whales; a vivid encounter frequently incorporates sightings of other marine creatures. En route, you could experience fun-loving dolphins, magnificent ocean lions, and various seabirds. Depending on the season, a visit considerably offers the opportunity to see orcas and humpback whales.

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Best Time for Whale Watching in San Diego

The pinnacle whale season San Diego is during the dark whale relocation, which runs from mid-December to mid-April. Be that as it may, the most incredible months for spotting dark whales are January and February, when they are most dynamic nearby. Late winter likewise offers potential chances to see the calves, as moms and their young frequently wait in the waterfront waters before proceeding with their excursion north.

Conclusion

Whale watching in San Diego is an enrapturing experience that interfaces guests with nature and the grandness of dim whales. With the valuable chance to observe perhaps one of the most remarkable movements on the planet, combined with the excellence of the Southern California shoreline, a whale-watching visit through the best company like San Diego Whale Watch is an experience not to be missed. Whether you're an accomplished whale watcher or a newbie, San Diego's whale season guarantees extraordinary recollections and a more profound appreciation for these delicate monsters of the sea. So snatch your optics and set out on an excursion that praises the marvel of the ocean!

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96harmony96 · 4 years ago

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Chapter one.

“We should head to a bar and celebrate.”

I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on, camila.” Cary sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Cary was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.

“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”

“Walk fast, work out faster.” Cary’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.

“How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.”

“Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.”

“Uh…” Cooking was one of Cary’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.”

Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.”

Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let me out to the street with a flourish.

The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and invited me to explore. I was not merely across the country from my former home in San Diego, but seemingly worlds away. Two major metropolises—one endlessly temperate and sensually lazy, the other teeming with life and frenetic energy. In my dreams, I’d imagining living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Cary living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year.

The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Cabello. Will you need a cab this evening?”

“No thanks, Paul.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.”

He smiled. “It’s cooled down from this afternoon. Should be nice.”

“I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before it gets wicked hot.”

“Very good advice, Miss Cabello.”

Stepping out from under the modern glass entrance overhang that somehow meshed with the age of the building and its neighbors, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined street before I reached the bustle and flow of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the subway and had trouble hailing cabs. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience.

The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with food from vendor carts, the shouts of hawkers blended with music from street entertainers, the awe-inspiring range of

faces and styles and accents, the gorgeous architectural wonders…And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars was unlike anything I’d ever seen anywhere.

There was always an ambulance, patrol car, or fire engine trying to part the flood of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of ear-splitting sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny one-way streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines.

Real New Yorkers cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favorite pair of shoes. They didn’t view the steam billowing from potholes and vents in the sidewalks with romantic delight and they didn’t blink an eye when the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared by below, while I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. New York was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed.

So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to Mark Garrity at Waters Field & Leaman, one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the US. My stepfather, mega-financier Richard Stanton, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection.

“You’re as stubborn as your father,” he’d said. “It’ll take him forever to pay off your student loans on a cop’s salary.”

That had been a major fight, with my dad unwilling to back down. “Hell if another man’s gonna pay for my daughter’s education,” Alejandro Cabello had said when Stanton made the offer. I respected that. I suspected Stanton did, too, although he would never admit it. I understood both men’s sides, because I’d fought to pay off the loans myself…and lost. It was a point of pride for my father.

My mother had refused to marry him, but he’d never wavered from his determination to be my dad in every way possible.

Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during a busy time on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the Crossfire Building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes.

I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up to the slender ribbon of sky. The Crossfire was seriously impressive, a sleek spire of gleaming sapphire that pierced the clouds. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the ornate copper-framed revolving doors was just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminum security desk and turnstiles.

I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.

I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a svelte, beautifully groomed brunette caught her purse on a turnstile and upended it, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards.

“Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick harried smile.

I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.”

I’d just squatted to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords draped in tailored black slacks. I waited for a beat for the person to move out of my way and when they didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the person's face that I went down for the count.

Wow. Just…wow. She sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite femininity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned.

Then something shifted in the air between us.

As she stared back, she altered…as if a shield slid away from her eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism she exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.

Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass.

My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the woman in front of me. Inky black hair shoulder length framed a breathtaking face. Her bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely Emerald green eyes made her savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, her features otherwise schooled into impassivity.

Her dress shirt and suit were both black, but her tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. Her eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. she smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was she.

she held out a hand to me, exposing onyx cufflinks and a very expensive-looking watch.

With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in hers. My pulse leaped when her grip tightened. Her touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. she didn’t move for a moment, a frown line marrying the space between arrogantly slashed brows.

“Are you all right?”

Her voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that she might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.

My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.”

she stood with economical grace, pulling me up with her. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. she was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but her eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent.

I felt drawn to her, as if a rope bound my waist and she was slowly, inexorably pulling it.

Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released her. she wasn’t just beautiful; she was…enthralling. she was the kind of woman that made a person want to rip her shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at her in her civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking.

she bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear.

I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while she was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it.

she glanced up at me and the pose—she's nearly kneeling before me—skewed my equilibrium again. she held my gaze as she rose. “Are you sure you’re alright? You should sit down for a minute.”

My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful woman I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.”

Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the woman again, finding her watching me even as the brunette gushed thank-yous. To her. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped.

I talked over her. “May I have my badge, please?”

she offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching her, her fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again.

“Thank you,” I muttered before skirting her and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of New York air redolent with a million different things, some good and some toxic.

There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless limo tinted windows. I was flushed and my brown eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before—in the bathroom mirror just before I went to bed with a man. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now.

Christ. Get a grip.

Five minutes with Miss. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with an edgy, restless energy. I could still feel the pull of her, the inexplicable urge to go back inside where she was. I could make the argument that I hadn’t finished what I’d come to the Crossfire to do, but I knew I’d kick myself for it later. How many times was I going to make an ass of myself in one day?

“Enough,” I scolded myself under my breath. “Moving on.”

Horns blared as one cab darted in front of another with only inches to spare and then slammed on the brakes as daring pedestrians stepped into the intersection seconds before the light changed. Shouting ensued, a barrage of expletives and hand gestures that didn’t carry real anger behind them. In seconds all the parties would forget the exchange, which was just one beat in the natural tempo of the city.

As I melded into the flow of foot traffic and set off toward the gym, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling settled again. You rock.

I’d planned on warming up on a treadmill, then capping off the hour with a few of the machines, but when I saw that a beginners’ kickboxing class was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students into that instead. By the time it was over, I felt more like myself. My muscles quivered with the perfect amount of fatigue and I knew I’d sleep hard when I crashed later.

“You did really well.”

I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel and looked at the young man who spoke to me. Lanky and sleekly muscular, he had keen brown eyes and flawless café au lait skin. His lashes were enviably thick and long, while his head was shaved bald.

“Thank you.” My mouth twisted ruefully. “Pretty obvious it was my first time, huh?”

He grinned and held out his hand. “Parker Smith.”

“Camila Cabello.”

“You have a natural grace, camila. With a little training you could be a literal knockout. In a city like New York, knowing self-defense is imperative.” He gestured over to a corkboard hung on the wall. It was covered in thumbtacked business cards and fliers. Tearing off a flag from the bottom of a fluorescent sheet of paper, he held it out to me. “Ever heard of Krav Maga?”

“In a Jennifer Lopez movie.”

“I teach it, and I’d love to teach you. That’s my website and the number to the studio.”

I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was genuine. I’d wondered if he was angling toward a pickup, but he was cool enough about it that I couldn’t be sure.

Parker crossed his arms, which showed off cut biceps. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably beat up and tribal tattoos peeked up from his collar. “My website has the hours. You should come by and watch, see if it’s for you.”

“I’ll definitely think about it.”

“Do that.” He extended his hand again, and his grip was solid and confident. “I hope to see you.”

The apartment smelled fabulous when I got back home and Adele was crooning soulfully through the surround sound speakers about chasing pavements. I looked across the open floor plan into the kitchen and saw Cary swaying to the music while stirring something on the range. There was an open bottle of wine on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half-filled with red wine.

“Hey,” I called out as I got closer. “Whatcha cooking? And do I have time for a shower first?”

He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it across the breakfast bar to me, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know from looking at him that he’d spent his childhood bouncing between his drug-addicted mother and foster homes, followed by adolescence in juvenile detention facilities and state-run rehabs. “Pasta with meat sauce. And hold the shower, dinner’s ready. Have fun?”

“Once I got to the gym, yeah.” I pulled out one of the teakwood barstools and sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. “Wanna go with me?”

“Krav Maga?” Cary shook his head. “That’s hardcore. I’d get all bruised up and that would cost me jobs. But I’ll go with you to check it out, just in case this guy’s a wack.”

I watched him dump the pasta into a waiting colander. “A wack, huh?”

My dad had taught me to read guys pretty well, which was how I’d known the god in the suit was trouble. Regular people offered token smiles when they helped someone, just to make a momentary connection that smoothed the way.

Then again, I hadn’t smiled at him either.

“Baby girl,” Cary said, pulling bowls out of the cupboard, “you’re a sexy, stunning woman. I question any man who doesn’t have the balls to ask you outright for a date.”

I wrinkled my nose at him.

He set a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas. “You’ve got something on your mind. What is it?”

Hmm…I caught the handle of the spoon sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. “I think I ran into the hottest person on the planet today. Maybe the hottest woman in the history of the world.”

“Oh? I thought that was me. Do tell me more.” Cary stayed on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat.

I watched him take a couple bites of his own concoction before I felt brave enough to try it myself. “Not much to tell, really. I ended up sprawled on my ass in the lobby of the Crossfire and she gave me a hand up.”

“Tall or short? Blond or dark? Built or lean? Eye color?”

I washed down my second bite with some wine. “Tall. Dark. Lean and built. green eyes. Filthy rich, judging by her clothes and accessories. And she was insanely sexy. You know how it is—some hot people don’t make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive people have massive sex appeal. This woman had it all.”

My belly fluttered as it had when Dark and Dangerous touched me. In my mind, I remembered her breathtaking face with crystal clarity. It should be illegal for a woman to be that mind-blowing. I was still recovering from the frying of my brain cells.

Cary set his elbow on the counter and leaned in, his long bangs covering one vibrant green eye. “So what happened after she helped you up?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I left.”

“What? You didn’t flirt with her?”

I took another bite. Really, the meal wasn’t bad. Or else I was just starving. “she wasn’t the kind of girl you flirt with, Cary.”

“There is no such thing as a girl you can’t flirt with. Even the happily married ones enjoy a little harmless flirtation now and then.”

“There was nothing harmless about this girl,” I said dryly.

“Ah, one of those.” Cary nodded sagely. “Bad boys and girls can be fun, if you don’t get too close.”

Of course he would know; men and women of all ages fell at his feet. Still, he somehow managed to pick the wrong partner every time. He’d dated stalkers, and cheaters, and lovers who threatened to kill themselves over him, and lovers with significant others they didn’t tell him about…Name it, he’d been through it.

“I can’t see this woman ever being fun,” I said. “she was way too intense. Still, I bet she'd be awesome in the sack with all that intensity.”

“Now you’re talking. Forget the real person. Just use ther face in your fantasies and make them perfect there.”

Preferring to get the girl out of my head altogether, I changed the subject. “You have any go-sees tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Cary launched into the details of his schedule, mentioning a jeans advertisement, self-tanner, underwear, and cologne.

I shoved everything else out of my mind and focused on him and his growing success. The demand for Cary Taylor was increasing by the day, and he was building a reputation with photographers and accounts for being both professional and prompt. I was thrilled for him and so proud. He’d come a long way and been through so much.

It wasn’t until after dinner that I noticed the two large gift boxes propped against the side of the sectional sofa.

“What are those?”

“Those,” Cary said, joining me in the living room, “are the ultimate.”

I knew immediately they were from Stanton and my mom. Money was something my mother needed to be happy and I was glad Stanton, husband #3, was not only able to fill that need for her but all her many others as well. I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did. “What now?”

He threw his arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. “Don’t be ungrateful. He loves your mom. He loves spoiling your mom, and your mom loves spoiling you. As much as you don’t like it, he doesn’t do it for you. He does it for her.”

Sighing, I conceded his point. “What are they?”

“Glam threads for the advocacy center’s fundraiser dinner on Saturday. A bombshell dress for you and a Brioni tux for me, because buying gifts for me is what he does for you. You’re more tolerant if you have me around to listen to you bitch.”

“Damn straight. Thank God he knows that.”

“Of course he knows. Stanton wouldn’t be a bazillionaire if he didn’t know everything.” Cary caught my hand and tugged me over. “Come on. Take a look.”

I pushed through the revolving door of the Crossfire into the lobby ten minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator ride up. My brown hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a figure eight, courtesy of Cary. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Stanton and my mother.

I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles.

Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescent-shaped desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked the doors as I put my ID away.

“Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure, and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink.

“camila, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?”

“Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I went straight to it.

I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out. One was a framed collage of three photos—me and Cary on Coronado beach, my mom and Stanton on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of photos, and sat back to take in the effect.

“Good morning, Camila.”

I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Garrity.”

“Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.”

I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee, and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise that inspired trust and respect.

He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk, and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault the view.

He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new apartment?”

I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him during my second interview and liked him right away.

“For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.”

“You moved from San Diego, right? Nice city, but very different from New York. Do you miss the palm trees?”

“I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.”

“Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.”

I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.”

“Having you around is a big step up for me, Camila. I’d like you to be happy working here. Do you drink coffee?”

“Coffee is one of my major food groups.”

“Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the break rooms.”

I grinned. “No problem.”

“How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m working on and we’ll go from there?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five.

“Mark Garrity’s office. Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on yesterday.”

Cary’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”

Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Cary. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and green eyes met mine. My breath caught.

The sex god was the lone occupant.

#camren #lauren jauregay #lauren jauregui #fantasy #fanfic #camila coelho

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irrevocably-delicious · 6 years ago

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A Brief History of LGBT+ Characters and Why the Death of Adam in Voltron is Worth Being Upset About

So uh.... Good morning.

So I think it’s pretty obvious by now that the reception to season 7 has been less than... good. The fan base has been shattered. People are upset, angry, and abandoning this series in droves (I’ve lost over 50 followers as I write this, just from people no longer wanting anything to do with this show) and have been incredibly vocal as to the reason why.

They killed Adam.

After two weeks of receiving praise for the relationship that was revealed at San Diego Comic Con, fans discovered on Friday night that Adam’s existence would be short lived, further contributing to this popular “Bury Your Gays” trope.

And I’ve seen people confused at this outcry. They don’t understand why people are so upset at this tiny side character’s death. What’s the big deal, right? It’s war! There’s supposed to be casualties!

And to that kind of response I have to narrow my eyes and go:

“Oh.... maybe you understand the history of this.”

Because it is a history. A rich one. “Bury your gays” isn’t a trope in the same why that “Fake dating” is a trope. It’s not popular out of coincidence and I feel like many people are ignorant of that, which is FAIR! Because most voltron fans are young, most tumblr users are young, so I don’t expect you to be watching documentaries on LGBT+ cinema in between studying for your chemistry exams.

So that’s where I come in. Buckle in children as I take you on a journey on why the “Bury your gays” trope exists, and the harmful ramifications that it has had on the LGBT+ community since its inception.

So lets go back. Way back to the 1920′s when homosexuality, or at least homosexuality adjacent themes were seen on screen.

A time where a bro could kiss his bro, and it was seen as heart wrenching and realistic (Wings, 1927). A time where Marlene Dietrich could wear a suit better than a man, and flirt and kiss a lady just because she fucking could (Morocco, 1930). A time where gender roles were a bit looser, and there wouldn’t be an outcry over such imagery.

But as the great depression continued, and film producers became desperate to get butts in seats at the cinema, these LGBT+ themes became outright explicit. Raunchy even. Used for titillation and shock value.

“Have you seen that new picture, Doris? The one where the roman emperor has the hot male sex slave?? Mmmmm scandalous!”

But with this rise of LGBT+ characters and interactions used for shock value, also came the rise of public outcry. The catholic church (those debbie downers) started boycotting films. This lead to the formation of the PRODUCTION CODE, which is a fancy way to say THE CODE THAT WILL NOW CENSOR THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR FILMS in 1934.

Backed by catholic activists, the code made it impossible for LGBT+ representation to exist on film.

But did they?? See, this is actually were we start to see the development of “Queer coding”. Where actors and directors got savvy, and let you know a character was gay, whilst never explicitly stating so. It was subtle enough that it got past censors, but clear enough that audience members, especially LGBT+ people, got clued in.

Yeah Peter Lorre, you put that phallus shaped object next to your mouth a lot. They’ll get what your implying, don’t you worry.

Oh, I’m sorry.... did i say you couldn’t have LGBT+ characters?? My mistake, you totally fucking could. Explicitly even.... if they were the villain. Religious people were totally cool if the villain in your film was LGBT+, because to them, that’s what LGBT+ people were.... villains.

Film’s like Rebecca, Dracula’s Daughter, and Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope all centre around truly horrifying and despicable villains... who are all gay. LGBT+ villains became such a staple in horror films during this time that it lead to a whole near character archetype! We have the damsel in distress, the heroic soldier, the wise old man, now welcome the rise of the:

PSYCHO QUEER.

Yikes.

But why I’m talking about this so much is because this popularity in LGBT+ villains is what creates the “Bury your Gays” trope.

Because the villains.... always die.

It’s their comeuppance. Their karma. Of course bad people will die and the heroes will go one to live a happy life! But what crime are we punishing these villains for?

The message these movies gets across to their audiences is that “If you are gay, you are a bad person... and bad people deserve to die”. Because Gay and villain were so synonymous with each other, they become one in the same, and as we all know by now REPRESENTATION MATTERS.

This influences how society views LGBT+ people, so that in 1952, when the PRODUCTION CODE of YOU BETTER NOT CONDONE ANYTHING SINFUL IN HERE BECAUSE JESUS DOESN’T LIKE THAT is torn down, things still don’t get much better for LGBT+ representation.

LGBT+ characters no longer have to be villains, but society is still not super cool with LGBT+ people, so now we get a new archetype: The self hating tragic gay character. And often? These characters kill themselves, such as in 1961′s The Children’s Hour. Because this is palatable to audiences who do not condone homosexuality in any way, but watching an LGBT+ struggle with themselves? Watching them become overwhelmed by guilt and hatred until they decide that death is the only way out? How tragic! How cursed they are! How pitiful! How... marketable.

But to see LGBT+ characters end up happy? Audiences at this time would not have stomached it, because to them, being LGBT was immoral and these characters were not deserving of happiness. A good analogy might be how modern audiences would view a film with a drug addict character in it. The addict either succumbs to their addiction and dies tragically, or they “Go straight” and have a happy ending. For these audiences in the 50s and 60s the only happy ending was a straight ending.

Then in 1969 we get the Stonewall Riots, and in the 1970s things actually look alright.

That is until the 1980s and society finds a new reason to hate, fear and vilify LGBT+ people. The AIDS crisis wipes out lives and almost all positive representation in the media. This fear is echoed in film as LGBT+ people become villains again. Sleepaway Camp and Cruising are such examples.

The 90′s are better. Whilst mainstream cinema is still vilifying LGBT+ in the 80s, more positive independent films still exist, and the success of the 1991 documentary Paris is Burning prompts Hollywood to go “Hey... maybe we can get some money if we pander to these LGBT+ folks”.

There is a brief period in the 90s where gay comedies like The Birdcage, In and Out, and To Wong Foo are allowed to exist. They’re comedies. The stereotypes are played for laughs, but there is a level of joy and care with these movies where even though these characters are making us laugh... for once we’re not laughing at them. We love these characters. We want them to succeed. No. One. Dies.

It smells like progress. Finally.

Or at least it would. Because these films also exist in the same decade that Philadelphia wins Oscars and the musical Rent is winning Tonys. Both of these deal with the tragedy of the AIDS crisis and have main characters die from the disease. Am I going to point out that Rent has four characters suffering from AIDS, but the only one to die is the Trans-coded poc gay man? Yes. Yes I am. Meanwhile the heterosexual couple suffering from AIDS gets a happy ending.

Interesting.

I hate you Rent. I hate you so goddamned much.

Also the 90s sees a good return to queer-coding villains. It’s always been there. It’s never really gone away, but I need to talk about the queer coding of 90′s villains because I’m sure all of you will actually recognise them.

Ah. There They are. Queer coding and Disney have a very rich history, which MANY articles have been written on. One might even say that it’s a... tale as old as time.

Mmmm no thank you.

But why it is so rampant, particularly in animated films, is because the films have a limited run time.

“We need to convince the audience that these characters are villains IMMEDIATELY. We don’t really have the time to waste on developing them and showing all their evil actions. We need audiences to believe when we tell them that these characters are bad. how do we do that?”

“.... make them kinda gay??”

That’s not actually how the conversation went in the board room, I’m sure, but it’s a very reduced down version. Because of the history of LGBT+ villains in the early years of cinema, animation relies on the stereotypes of villainous characters... well unfortunately those villains of old were LGBT+, so now we have LGBT+ stereotypes being passed on to new villains.

Anyway, my point is that almost all Disney villains die. Sorry that’s where I was going with this. Most of them die. The “Bury your Gays” trope is repeated here because of the villain’s queer coding. It’s not obvious, but the subtext is “Hey, if you’re a bit effeminate or do things outside of your strict gender role? Mmmmmm you deserve to die.”

“Bury your Gays” continues in modern media. Despite the importance of Brokeback Mountain, which explicitly shows a romance and intimacy between two men... Jake Gyllenhaal’s character still dies, and it’s implied that it may be due to a hate crime.

We see it in television. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Downton Abbey, Arrow, there was a massive outcry over the trope in The 100 when a female character, after just entering an intimate relationship with another female character, is killed off seemingly senselessly.

The LGBT+ community is tired of only seeing themselves killed for shock value, character growth, or tragedy. Even Ru Paul’s Drag Race has come under fire in recent years for seemingly exploiting its contestants traumatic histories for ratings.

This is why this year’s Love, Simon was so important. The film portrays an adolescent gay character as he struggles with being open with his sexuality and finding a meaningful relationship. Simon is portrayed as a sympathetic character. He’s the hero.

And he gets a happy ending.

This is why Korrasami, a same-sex relationship in children’s media, is so important. It shows two girls achieving their happy ending together.

It’s why in the same year that Steven Universe portrays a same sex wedding, Adam’s death feels like such a step backwards.

The producers have stated that Adam’s death was supposed to raise the stakes of the season, it was supposed to make viewers realise the severity of the situation and overcome them with a feeling of loss, but Adam’s death doesn’t just fail the LGBT+ fans... it fails to effect viewers emotionally.

Because audiences can’t mourn a character that they have no connection with.

Most of Adam’s character was developed in interviews and not in the show, where he only spoke for one scene. The creators talked about the deep relationship between Adam and Shiro, but none of that is actually visible in the series. Taking the season at face value, Adam is just some guy who’s connected to Shiro that is killed off unceremoniously. He wasn’t even given the dignity of hero’s death, taking out even one enemy before he died. That’s what hurts the most.

His death is meaningless. It does nothing. It’s pointless.

But of course “There’s still Shiro, right?”, which is true. Shiro still exists and is confirmed a mlm, which is important, but it’s understandable why fans may not be satisfied with this. Let’s take a closer look at Shiro.

I often joke with my friends that Voltron should be renamed Shiro Suffers: The Series, because out of all the characters in the show, Shiro has definitely endured and been subjected to the worst (you could argue that Allura has, but Shiro has the joy of being tortured emotionally and physically, so I feel he wins).

The writers have tried to kill him numerous times, with only toy sales saving him. He’s been beaten, tortured, terminally ill, killed, revived, possessed and used... it’s a lot. In the old days, I used to ship shallura, not really out of feeling a real romantic connection between the characters, but just because I wanted Shiro to have someone. Someone to help support him. Someone he could open up about his struggles with. The paladins mean a lot to Shiro, but because he is their surrogate guardian, he cannot open up to them like this. He cannot show the paladins weakness, and we see this in how he keeps his disease a secret from Keith, because he does not want to burden Keith with his struggle.

The introduction of Adam wasn’t just exciting because of the potential of seeing a caring LGBT+ relationship, but because it gave fans hope that Shiro would have someone. There was the potential that Shiro might finally gain some kind of supportive relationship outside of his strict roles of “leader” and “guardian”.

Adam’s death removes that possibility. Despite how caring, generous, strong, intelligent, kind, patient and capable Shiro is written... his life is fucking awful. It’s very telling that in the final scene of the season, when every other paladin is in the hospital surrounded by their family and loved ones, Shiro is alone. He’s on a stage, giving a rousing speech to a crowd, still trapped in this role as an inspirational leader.

God, they don’t even let Shiro mourn Adam. Does he feel guilty that he was the one who supposed to die, whilst Adam lived, but now their roles are reversed?We’ll never know. Adam’s death doesn’t even give some insight into Shiro’s character. It’s truly pointless.

Season 7 of Voltron has made it clear that this is not a kids show. This is a serious show with dark themes. The writers want it to be taken more seriously.

Then I will critique it more seriously.

While I strongly doubt it was intentional, season 7 perpetuates the age old message “If you are LGBT+, you will not achieve a happy ending.” The “Bury your Gays” trope is steeped in a history of oppression, censorship, and vilification. When Adam dies, you’re not just seeing a character die, but you’re seeing the series make a conscious decision to participate in this oppressive trope. And it stings even more because the series sets two heterosexual relationships to potentially end in happiness, whilst the LGBT+ relationships have already ended in tragedy.

Why Adam? Why not literally anyone else? We had no connection to him, so it’s not like they could have used a handful of other characters for the same effect. (Kill James. Fuck that guy. And he’s young so it really would have hurt.)

And that’s what you have to question. This is why fans are upset.

I’m not writing this to convince anyone to boycott the show, or plead with you to stop watching. That’s up to you and your own belief system. I definitely do not condone harassing the writers or voice actors.

I just want people to understand why fans are so upset over season 7, and that they have every right to be. To state that the outcry is just because “fans didn’t see their ships become canon” is dismissive and cruel. Adam and Shiro’s relationship was heavily used in marketing by Netflix, so much so that you could call it queer-baiting. It was hyped at SDCC and explained as this deep and meaningful relationship, whilst the producers knew what Adam’s fate would be the whole time.

I know producers have to answer to higher ups. I know the crew were largely on edge about what would get approved and what would not.

But the point remains... they still made this conscious choice. Fans don’t have to be happy about it. They shouldn’t be.

I have no idea what season 8 will bring, and at this point I feel like it might be a mess. But I encourage fans to support each other and be vocal about why you’re upset. You can’t change this show, but there’s hope that another series could learn from this.

History repeats. Until we don’t let it.

#voltron #vld #voltron spoilers #adashi #shadam #discourse #negativity #q slur #takashi shirogane #this took a while

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aesthyuckic · 5 years ago

Text

AVENOIR | l.dh - SEX

(gif not mine - credits to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: (for future chapters will bold if in use) belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse, slow but with a purpose

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

ACE OF PENTACLES - opportunity, prosperity, new venture

They had been in San Diego for quite some time now. Everyday seemed the same in the way they lived. Wake up, hang out at the beach in hope of getting money from tourist, wait until sunset to work on the streets, get something to eat and preferably find a cheap motel room. It’s not at all what Donghyuck signed up for and he was starting to really regret his decision.

He looked back at the past few months with Cosimia. He found it difficult to get close to her, not just mentally or spiritually but also physically. He remembered there was one time after they had just arrived here that they were in the store, getting something to eat. When he tried to tap her shoulder to ask her something, she flinched away from him. There was that familiar sense of fright in her eyes. They always tried to get a motel room because they hated the homeless shelters and due to money, they only got one bed rooms. She would never sleep in the bed if he was there. She would lay on floor if she had to, or go outside. It was only recently that she would get in with him and even then, she was practically teetering on the edge.

He understood the weird behavior was due to what she experienced in that deceivingly happy orange house. Nevertheless, it didn’t help him because he felt like he was doing something wrong. He never asked her about anything of it, mostly because he didn’t know how. As it was, it was hard to get close to her on that level but it was easier than anything else.

People walked around them in swimsuits while eating ice cream. They sat on the warm sand of the spring day, under a big umbrella. It was good for shade but didn’t do much for the still hot air that surrounded them. The tarot card box rested next to the boy while he sat back on his hands. His sunglasses didn’t do much to keep the glare from the light reflecting off the sand from blinding him. He looked to his left to see the girl sitting on the sand who was attempting to build a sand sculpture.

He questioned how she could seem so content at their current situation. They hadn’t eaten anything, nor did they have any money as of the moment. He envied it as he scrunched his nose.

“You lied to me.” He muttered, aloud as he turned his attention to the sea to avoid eye contact.

“About what?” She asked.

“The night we left, when I asked you if we’d be okay and you said we would.” He reminded her.

“I didn’t lie. I said we’d be okay, I never stated a time as to when.”

“I hate you.”

“Please, if you hated me, you know full well you could’ve left by now and gone back.”

It was true, they had discussed it multiple times. Donghyuck could go back home, whenever, if he wished. She made it clear she wouldn’t go back with him though. She had given him plenty of opportunities to leave and continued to do so but he still stuck by her anyway.

“Besides, this is okay to me...” She mumbled.

“How?” He huffed. “This sucks!”

“It’s just much better than what it was like a few months ago... I feel freer, like I can breath and just be. Not all of us had parents that loved us.”

He noticed his blood start to boil at her words. She wasn’t wrong, in fact, she was right, she was always right. He did grow up in a loving home it’s just he was overworked to an extreme. He just hated the way it sounded like his life was so much better than hers. He had a short temper, and honestly, he had no reason to get upset about but he did. He was just stressed out from their living situation. He stood up, looking like a child who just got done throwing a tantrum.

“I’m gonna go find seashells or something.” He frowned before stomping away from their spot on the beach.

“Have fun with that!” She yelled as he continued to stomp further and further away.

She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh as she still played with the sand. She didn’t chase after him, only because they had disagreements and arguments countless times. He always came back but he only went away to think anyway. He would always come back and remain silent, which was odd for him but it’s because he knew he overreacted, sometimes he was in the wrong.

He had come back around sun set. A pout occupied his lips as he walked up to the girl that sat on the towel under the umbrella that no longer protected from the sun. He thought she looked pretty under the golden hour light which broke his pout. She noticed the few seashells he cradled in his arms. He straightened his posture as he saw the look on her face.

“What? I said I was gonna collect shells or something...” He mumbled as he walked pasted her to sit on the other side of the towel.

“I never said anything about it.” She responded.

“Yeah, but you were thinking about it.” He muttered.

He got up shortly after only to take their umbrella down as the sun set. He didn’t say anything else or even look at her as he did so. She started to help with packing and assuming Donghyuck wanted the shells he collected, she wrapped them up, gently, in the towel. She put it away in a backpack that they had to shared, making sure they wouldn’t get crushed and ruined. He was already standing up with the umbrella on his shoulder as she finally slung the backpack over one of her own.

They walked into the streets together but didn’t stray far from the place they were staring to call their closest sense of home. They went into one of the sketchy and messy alleyways to pull out a foldable table onto the side walk. They also dragged out a few milk crates for seats along with the table. Cosimia was the one to grab a piece of crumbled paper from the bottom of the backpack. She uncrumbled the piece of paper to reveal words written in red marker. She taped it to the front of the table before sitting down next to the boy.

‘Tarot and Psychic Readings, 5$’ the sign read. No one seemed attracted by it though, not this evening anyway. Countless tourists and teenagers walked pasted them on the busy Saturday evening. Eventually, a couple of people had stopped by for a reading. Donghyuck was finishing up the second one for tonight. He smiled out of politeness and bid the elderly lady a goodbye and thank you.

“Do you think we’ll be able to get a motel room tonight?” He asked as he handed the money over to the girl.

“Maybe, it’s still early...” She shrugged. “We’ll have to get chicken nuggets or something from the Loop again though.”

“Please, no,” He groaned. “It’s gas station food, I throw up every time!”

“We don’t have a lot of money right now...”

“We never do.”

It became very quiet between the two of them. Though, the sounds of the city helped the air from getting too awkward. Some conversation, muffled music and sirens kept their minds occupied. He turned his attention toward Cosimia to see a frown on her face as she looked down at the dirty side walk with her arms crossed.

“I just hate the way we’ve been living since we’ve left, that’s all.” He admitted while playing with his fingers. “It stresses me out and I thought this was going to be fun...”

“Me too,” She nodded. “But we’ll be okay soon.”

“You say that,” He started. “But I’m not sure if it’s true. Yeah, you say you can predict the future and all but how do I know you’re not lying? I’m eighteen in three months and that’s really scary to me... If things don’t get better between now and then, I wanna go home but I don’t want to leave you here by yourself. It’s not just dangerous for you, but me. We’re still kids and you’ll still be one by the time June comes around. Literally some creep could snatch you up off the street and no one would ever see you again.”

“You really don’t think I can take care of myself? If you want to leave, then go, that’s your choice but you’re not dragging me back with you if you do.”

“But-“

“No buts, Haechan, our lives were very different and you don’t know what mine was like. I worked hard to earn that money to get down here and I let you tag along. I told you earlier I was happier here, in this moment, regardless of how shitty it may be. Doesn’t that say something?”

He never sees that part of her often. The last time she snapped like that was the night they left and she had every right to. For the most part, she was quiet and calm. He thought he’d seen tears prick at her eyes after she yelled at him. He hadn’t seen her cry for months but he felt extremely guilty because of it. Maybe it was because he knew if what his eyes had told him were true, it was his fault, he shouldn’t have gotten into it like that... He meant well, though...

“The cops are coming,” She uttered. “Help me get the table before they get here.”

She was quick to grab the makeshift sign off the front of the table and shove it into the backpack. They folded the table up and rushed into the alleyway with it. They kicked their crates to the sides, out of the way. They stood in silence under the yellow light of street lamps. A dog barked in the distance but it didn’t do much to ease the thick air.

He wanted to say something but it was most definitely the worst time to do so. The cop car came from around the corner, the blue and red lights flashed down the brick walls of the alleyway. Truthfully, they could’ve better spent their time than taking down illegal setups and such. The two watched as the car slowly cruised by until it disappeared down the street.

“They won’t be back for awhile.” She informed him as she grabbed her end of the table.

They brought the table back out into the side walk and grabbed the crates to sit on once again. He noticed she was sitting further away from him before and while she was generally a quiet person, the silence given to him was scary. He could tell she was upset, unsure if it was with him or with the things he said. He got upset with her too but over stupid things, so, it was fair. Their personalities clashed often but he guessed it improved their relationship and kept things interesting.

A lady with platinum blonde hair approached their table. She was nicely dressed and with no doubt pretty. She stood tall in her black heels that contrasted with the frilly, white lace top she wore. She seemed like a tourist, only by the way she seemed so excited to be there. The young woman talked to Cosimia in Spanish. Donghyuck was only able to pick up a few words here and there. He only understood the action of the blonde sliding a five dollar bill to his friend on the other side of table.

Cosimia smiled, kindly at the lady after she pocketed the bill. She took the lady’s hand and looked up with her. Judging by the smile on the blonde’s face, she was saying sweet things. Though, everything was quick to fade when the young girl’s expression drop and she let go of the customer’s hand. Her own hands grip the edge of the table as she took deep breaths.

“¿Qué pasa?” The young women asked, seeming concerned for the girl.

“Nada, nada.” She reassured her before she continued with the reading.

She said minimum things to the customer after the weird moment. Though it was obvious something was wrong, the blonde was still sent away with a smile on her face. He wish he payed attention in Spanish class to know what she had said.

“What was that about?” Donghyuck asked.

“She’s doing to die...” She sighed. “In a place crash on the way back to Spain. Her girlfriend was going to propose to her as soon as she got back, too. I only told her the part about her girlfriend proposing, though.”

“What?!” He exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say something about it then?!”

“If I told her it wouldn’t do anything, anyway!” She frowned. “I can’t prevent things no matter how hard I try, I can only predict. Even if she did know and avoided getting on that flight, she would still die somehow. If you’re meant to die at a certain time, it happens. The only thing telling her would’ve done was change the timeline of how things happened. If things change like that, I can’t see anything.”

“How are you ever able to tell the future again if that happens to the timeline?”

“It’s like a ripple in a pond, it eases eventually. How long it takes depends on how big the thing was that caused it, you know? I don’t do it or at least, try to not do it often. I need to see what’s coming, I’m not use to things bring unclear.”

“So, did you know I was coming with you?”

“Yeah, I did. I don’t know what would’ve happened to you if I did mess with the timeline.”

“Do you know everything that will happen? With us, I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. I only see the important things and no, I can’t tell you anything. If I tell you anything I’m not suppose to I know and it will mess things up for me.”

There was an abrupt slam on the table that both startled them. They looked to see a black, gloved hand on the table. A tall, rather handsome looking young man towered in front of him. He wore white glasses with black shades despite it being night. His hair was dark and slightly wavy. His lips were plump as well. He finally took off his glasses which revealed sharp eyes. He smiled at them.

“You’re a psychic?” He asked.

“This some American Horror Story shit.” Donghyuck leaned over to whisper to Cosimia.

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rapunzel-withthegoodhair · 6 years ago

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dating + miguel galindo playlist // dating + series

When I say, “I love you,” it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are.

Sharing a bottle (or two…) of wine over long, philosophical discussions in the bathtub. There are lots of bubbles and even more kisses, whether you disagree or not

Miguel scooping you up and carrying you to bed bridal style when you pass out at your home-office desk

Sneaking out of a high-end fundraiser gala to jump in his Maserati and speed off to the beach

Miguel tying you up and watching you squirm while he undoes his cuff-links and rolls his sleeves up

Your birthday is a month long affair filled with surprise trips and scavenger hunts that lead to gifts waiting for you at all your favorite stores

Miguel waking you up with kisses, his beard tickling your soft skin as he nuzzles all the way down between your thighs. His fingers and mouth wake you up until you’re right on the edge, your fingers fisted in his hair and your cries hitting notes so high your voice keeps breaking…He brings you right to the edge, then backs off. Getting up, Miguel gets dressed for work like nothing happened. You get a kiss on the head and told to be good before leaves you to squirm for the rest of the day…

Sitting front row together at Paris Fashion Week

Miguel is your biggest fan, always so eager to look over your work when you ask him to. He always goes into detail with his praise and constructive advice alike, genuinely excited to discuss it with you. You’re not sure what delusional part of his brain really has him convinced that you’re that talented…but no one’s ever really been able to break through the thick walls of your insecurity like him. At the end of the day, his opinion is the only one that really matters to you, so you’re thankful it’s always so sincerely positive

Laughing together when you hear people say ‘Money can’t buy happiness’

Miguel’s hand around your throat while he’s deep inside you, squeezing firmly as he whispers in your ear that you’re his good girl and how he’s so fucking proud of you

Both of you hate working out in a gym and are always trying to find different ways to stay motivated. Rock climbing, Latin ballroom dance classes and running through the mountains together are just a few of your favorite alternatives to a treadmill

Talking while you get ready to go out. He doesn’t need to be asked to help you with your necklace, just like you don’t need a signal to know he needs his cuff-links done up. You’re just effortlessly in sync with each other’s rhythm

Foreplay that lasts for days

You have no hang-ups about what he does to earn what you two share. He didn’t choose to be born into his family and you’re proud of him for rising to meet the challenges he’s met with every day

Miguel gives you his credit card in the morning before leaving for work. Tells you to go on a little shopping spree…the only catch is, you have to send him a dressing room picture of each item you plan to buy…

Flying to Dubai spur of the moment just for the weekend

Having whole conversations with each other across crowded rooms, no words needed, just a few looks exchanged

No games. No head trips. You’re younger than him but you’re just as mature. You don’t like drama any more than he does. You mean the words you say, no hidden meanings or agendas, and you appreciate that he’s just as straight forward with you

Friday night is date night, no matter what. Wine tastings in Sonoma. Dinner cruises out of San Diego. Hot air ballooning in Napa. And you love how much of a romantic Miguel is. You love that he never gets tired of trying to win you over even if you’ve been completely his for years. But your favorite part of date night is that he always gives you his undivided attention. And that means more to you than anything because you know how serious his work is.

Spritzing a bit of his cologne onto the inside of your shirt collar so you can bury you nose in it during the day when you miss him

Both of you usually forgetting to eat until 10 or 11pm at night, though it’s fine since he knows most of the restaurant owners in town and can get practically anything delivered at any time of day

Neither of you able to sleep even though work left you both exhausted. Ending up just laying in bed talking, playing with each other’s hands or hair until you finally fall asleep near dawn

Holding him so tight when he gets home. You’re a workaholic but you always pull yourself away from your laptop to share a drink with him and listen to how his day was

Miguel has never been to Disneyland…but he goes for you. And you both have the best trip. Even waiting in line with him is fun, so obnoxiously in love with each other that standing for an hour in 90 degree heat is no big deal, just as long as you’re together.

Sneaking into the bathroom at a fancy dinner party to just have a few minutes alone together, both of you able to work a crowd effortlessly, but hating it. Only ever finding real relief from the anxiety when you’re locked away with each other.

The amused (and proud as fuck) smirk that twitches at Miguel’s mouth when you surprise his older friends by effortlessly keeping up with global political and economic discussion they assume you can’t possibly understand

You’re practically friends with the FBI Agents trying to bury the Galindo family at this point with how many times they’ve tried to strong-arm you into snitching. It’s adorable, it really is. Unfortunately for them, you’re a busy lady…and even more loyal.

Squeezing his hand so tight while at the orchestra one night, the two of you alone in your private balcony seats. The music is achingly beautiful and you can’t help wanting to be closer to him. One glance in your eyes is all it takes for him to understand what you need. Without a word, he pulls you over to sit in his lap and wraps his arms around you.

Miguel is always fussing over you a bit, calling during the day to check in and make sure you remember to eat, to drink plenty of water and take enough breaks

#miguel galindo #imagine miguel galindo #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayansfx #danny pino #y'all I'm so fucking proud of this shit #dating plus series #my writing.#my graphics.

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cruisepartyinsandiego · 2 years ago

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Cruise San Diego provides and Organize Large Parties & Events at private boat charter with the following facility.

149 Person Capacity Indoor & Outdoor Seating Custom Food Packages And Snack Bar Onboard Custom Music And Entertainment Options Semi-Private (Rent Out The Best Seat In The House) Events Also Available

Address Cruise San Diego 1617 Quivira Rd, San Diego, CA 92109 Phone - (619) 288-8554 Website -- https://cruise-sd.com/san-diego-sunset-booze-cruise/

#boat rides in san diego #happy hour cruise san diego #party cruise san diego #san diego sportfishing #Clear bottom kayak rental

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scottrunsultras · 6 years ago

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I paced/crewed The Leadville 100 last weekend

It was quite the experience. I hadn’t done any meaningful crewing or pacing before. The last time I paced someone was my first ever 20 mile run. It was the last 20 miles of the PCT50 down near San Diego. I got to the aid station about 2 minutes before my runner showed up and he managed to drop me in the last 5 miles. He finished in sub-9:00 and apparently didn’t need my help.

Crewing was a new experience for me, but I’ve run enough ultras to have some idea of what I was doing. And because I’d run the first 62 miles of Leadville last year, I feel like I had some useful input. I got the first leg of pacing - the brutal portion from Winfield to Twin Lakes (Hope Pass). My runner was kicking ass and didn’t need me to push her at all. And according to the results tracker, she passed 60 people from entering Winfield to entering Twin Lakes. Totally insane.

I was fresh and I’m still in ultra shape from Never Summer training, but that section of the trail is still extra difficult. And I was actually sore from it today. But it was a great experience. Amazing views that i was fresh enough to enjoy this year. We were both in a great mood and she completely crushed it.

I felt like a baller after Never Summer. Not because my time was amazing. But because it was super hard and I pushed through and finished strong. Throughout that entire race, I was comparing what i was doing to what i did in Leadville. And I came to the conclusion that Leadville wasn’t all that bad. Well, I’m pretty sure I was wrong. Everything after Twin Lakes inbound was new to me since that’s where I DNFed last year. And the full night time experience was pretty sobering.

I was cold after my section of pacing. We crossed the river just after dark and I never bothered to put on extra layers. My body temperature had dropped just enough by then to make staying warm a little difficult. About 2.5 hours after leaving our runner at Twin Lakes, we went to meet her at the Half Pipe crew area - about 4 miles from the next major aid station. And shortly after midnight, the weather rolled in. A 40 degree temperature, blowing wind and hard rain for about 20 minutes. And the cold and tired got colder and more tired. At this point, the doubt and worry started to creep in. I started to seriously wonder if I could handle this race. And if I should reconsider running it next year.

I was absolutely freezing when we met her an hour later at the Outward Bound aid station, but she was still cruising. And I started to get a feel for the toughness it takes to make it through a race like this. We met her again at the final aid station - Mayqueen - at about 5:30 am. Just as the glow of sunrise was beginning. After that we went back to the house, slept for 90 minutes, and got ready to meet her at the finish. Her pacer gave us text updates throughout the night. She was steadily knocking out 16 minute miles until the finish. And shortly after 9:00am, she earned her first 100 mile belt buckle.

It was an emotional experience crossing the finish with her and the rest of her crew. A triumphant end to a grueling and exhausting 29 hours. It was also both inspiring and incredibly humbling. If you look at the profile and the route, Leadville doesn’t look much harder than any other mid tier 100 miler. Lots of runnable sections. Lots of dirt roads. Only 2 major climbs. But add high elevation, unpredictable weather, and bone-chilling overnight cold, and it’s much easier to understand what the finish rate is typically less than 50%. For the mid-pack ultra runner that has to survive the night, this is a really tough race. But it’s also a race whose finish really means something. And I can’t wait to give it another try next year. But now I have a healthy fear and respect for what it takes to get through the night in a high mountain 100 miler. Something that will help me a ton next year in this same race as well as whichever Hardrock qualifier I make it in to (Bighorn 100, The Bear 100, or Run Rabbit Run).

Hope Pass did a number on my heels and my runner at 60 miles probably looked like the pacer. I was limping but trying not to show it. The vert is really killing my achilles injuries. But it’s fine, I have 1 mountain run left this year - one more chance to really screw up my heels again: the Grand Traverse. After that I’m done running meaningful vert until next spring.

After last weekend’s experience, I decided I’m back in on the Javelina Jundred this fall. I know it sounds crazy to keep training for a 100 miler when a 12 mile hike was so rough on me. But I have some degree of faith that with some focused rehab and semi-intelligent training decisions I can work my way through it without making things worse. And hopefully making them a little better in that 2.5 months. And the reality is that this is what I like doing. I have 0 desire to take an off season. I’m happy to go lighter and stay out of the mountains for 6 months to let myself recover. But I’m not going to stop running long distances.

I think I need some more entry level 100 mile practice before getting back into the harder stuff next year. I need to nail my hydration and nutrition over 24 hours. I need to figure out how to sleep before a race. I need to develop the discipline to go easy for the sake of longevity. Javelina won’t have the cold nights that worry me the most right now. But it’s still excellent practice and an experience of a race. My wife is actually happy to go back and crew for me this year. She had a lot of fun with it last year.

So yeah, hopefully I’ll see some of you in Arizona on October 27th. I’ll bring the glow sticks.

#Runner #running #runblr #runblog #trail running #ultra running #leadville 100

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convairsailingclub · 2 years ago

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A Breakdown Of The Best Sailing Clubs In San Diego Bay

The best sailing club for San Diego Bay is the San Diego Yacht Club. This club has been around since 1886 and is one of the most well-known sailing clubs in the country. The club is located on the north end of San Diego Bay near Coronado. The club offers a variety of sailing programs for all levels of sailors. The club also hosts many regattas and other events throughout the year.

The San Diego Bay is a great place to sail,

The San Diego Bay is a great place to sail, and there are plenty of sailing clubs to choose from. But which one is the best? The answer depends on what you're looking for in a sailing club. Do you want a club that's focused on racing? Or one that's more laid-back and social? Maybe you're looking for a club that has a strong junior program. Whatever your needs, there's a sailing club in San Diego Bay that's right for you. Here's a breakdown of some of the best sailing clubs in the area: San Diego Sailing Club If you're serious about racing, this is the club for you. SDYC has produced Olympians and America's Cup sailors, and they offer a top-notch racing program. They also have a strong junior program and plenty of social events. Coronado Yacht Club: CYC is another great choice for racing sailors. They offer both keelboat and dinghy racing, and their junior program is one of the best in the area. is also known for its friendly atmosphere and beautiful location on Coronado Island. Mission Bay Yacht Club: MBYC is a great option if you're looking for a relaxed atmosphere. The club has a large fleet of cruisers and offers plenty of social activities, like barbecues and happy hours. They also have a junior sailing program and offer classes for adults who want to learn

The best sailing club in San Diego Bay is the San Diego Yacht Club.

The club was founded in 1886 and has been located in the same Harbor Island location since 1925. The club is a private, member-owned club that offers its members a wide variety of sailing opportunities, including racing, cruising, and social activities. The club has an active racing program that includes keelboat, one-design, and handicap racing. The club also offers cruises to destinations such as Mexico, Hawaii, and the Sea of Cortez. In addition to these opportunities, the club also hosts a variety of social events throughout the year, such as holiday parties, dinners, and concerts.

#San Diego Sailing Club

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cruisepartyinsandiego · 16 days ago

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Researching San Diego: The Best San Diego Harbor Voyages!

Whether you're a visitor attempting to experience the city from another vantage point or a nearby wanting to rediscover the grandness of your old area, a boat journey on San Diego's harbor has something for everyone. A harbor venture licenses you to move away from the hustle of the city while as yet participating in its metropolitan greatness. You can loosen up as you skim through the tranquil waters, with the quiet Pacific Ocean wind and seabirds taking off above.

What the future holds for a Boat cruise San Diego harbor

Boat cruise San Diego harbor ventures last somewhere between one and two hours, depending on the specific visit you pick. Seeing enormous planes conveying warships and other oceanic vessels is a stand-out highlight, assisting visitors with recalling the city's strong associations with the U.S. Maritime power. A few journeys are based on the verifiable background of San Diego's waterfront, offering a helpful talk on the city's improvement as a sea and business port.

Others stress the regular brilliance of the straight, raised close to everyday life like sea lions, dolphins, and seabirds. Notwithstanding which journey you pick, you're guaranteed a mix of spectacular sights and fascinating fundamental factors. With such innumerable decisions, finding the best San Diego harbor excursion can depend upon your tendencies. Coming up next are two or three top choices to consider:

Picking the Best San Diego harbor cruise

San Diego harbor cruise is one of the most notable managers of harbor travel in San Diego. They offer different excursion decisions, from one-hour visits focusing on either the North or South Sound to longer, two-hour visits covering both. Their naval force of vessels integrates everything from excellent yachts to current boats. They offer a couple of day-to-day harbor visits, casual breakfast ventures, and night-day blended drink voyages, giving you numerous choices based on our schedule.

Their capable helpers provide invigorating encounters in the channel's arrangement of encounters and climate. Moreover, Lead offers whale-watching visits during explicit seasons, permitting nature darlings to see excellent marine life. If you're looking for something special, consider a visit. These land—and water-fit vehicles consolidate a land and sea experience. The visit begins in San Diego before the vehicle plunges into the water for a harbor journey. Night travel is particularly perfect, as you'll notice the city's viewpoint awaken with lights.

Elective Excursion with the best San Diego harbor cruise

The best San Diego harbor cruise is an ideal choice, as it offers remarkable harbor journey experiences. It also offers North and South Straight travel barely more restricted than Pioneer's finished harbor visit, yet they pack in extraordinary perspectives and evident encounters. Horn blower is especially eminent for its extensive eating voyages, including casual breakfast and dinner decisions.

A San Diego harbor venture through the best company like Cruise San Diego is the best strategy for experiencing the super history of the city from the water. This long visit covers both the North Limits and South Sound, taking voyagers past likely the city's most famous places of interest. The USS Midway is a picture of the city's happy maritime inheritance. For those looking for a reward, Pioneer also offers additional journey experiences, such as whale-watching visits in season and dinner ventures, which combine the wizardry of a San Diego harbor visit with specialist devouring and live redirection.

Conclusion

An experience unites a loosening-up encounter ideal for families, couples, or solo wayfarers. Additionally, many ventures are planned to take exceptional consideration of different interests, offering valid stories, regular life sightings, and extravagant eating decisions. With decisions from extreme eating to family-obliging endeavors, finding the best journey to suit your prerequisites is basic. Consequently, while visiting the region, make it a point to go out and track down the greatness of San Diego from the water!

#boat charter #sport fishing #fishing trips #party boat rental #MISSION BAY CRUISE

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jonasmaurer · 5 years ago

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heart eyes weekend

Hi friends! How are you? Happy Monday! I hope you had a lovely weekend. Ours went by in a blur, but we filled it with lots of fun and family adventures. Friday morning, the girls were so surprised with their Valentine’s goodies. Sometimes I feel like I’m “on it” with Valentine’s stuff and other years I kind of drop the ball. (I see all of these crazy Valentine’s baskets on Pinterest and I’m like, “We’re good if I remember to buy some cards and Reese’s.” I also realized we usually travel over Valentine’s Day. We’ve done Disney a couple of times and San Diego.) Anyway, they liked the lil treats, and we dropped Liv at school before taking a walk with P at Sabino Canyon.

The weather has been INSANE lately – it’s like spring! – so we ended up walking for about an hour. P sprinted most of the time and then the Pilot and I took turns giving her piggyback rides until we made it back to the car. We picked Liv up from school and the Pilot spent some time with the girls while I headed to the dentist (a last-min thing that really crushed my afternoon mojo haha).

A little something special about Valentine’s Day: we had a babysitter! The Pilot and I don’t usually go out on V-day because babysitters are usually busy. I was shocked when ours told us she was free. I ordered the girls heart-shaped pizza and they watched the new Zombies 2 while the Pilot and I had an amazing dinner at Charro del Rey.

We were laughing because we didn’t think Valentine’s Day was a “thing” anymore since we haven’t gone out to celebrate in so long. Turns out it’s still very much a thing and restaurants are booked out and packed. We got lucky snagging a reservation to Charro del Rey a couple of days in advance, and they had a great four course tasting menu.

I had a prickly pear margartini, which is like a margarita meets a martini. (Don’t ask me what was in it because I have no clue, but it was very smooth and delicious.)

We shared the tableside Caesar salad (my fave thing at Charro del Rey), and each got crab and corn chowder, arugula and beet salad, and he had the prime rib for his entree while I enjoyed the lobster tails. For dessert, we got both of the options: fried champagne strawberries and chocolate sorbet with Grand Marnier. It. was. awesome.

Saturday, the Pilot took the girls to the zoo while I stayed inside writing my face off. (I have to admit that it was a little painful but I had to get the manuscript finished.) They said hello to the meerkat for me,

rode the carousel, and saw every exhibit. They came home for a bit and we all had Sweet Tomatoes for dinner (the girls’ favorite place), then I babysat for EJ and August while Kyle and Meg went to an event. Augs was sleeping most of the time, but it was a lot of fun to play toys with EJ, color, read some books, and put her to bed. <3

Sunday morning was a sweaty yoga class, and then we took Liv to meet up with a friend for a play date at Defy.

(I got these furry slides at pure barre to wear to barre and yoga. Whenever I go to the grocery store after class, I look pretty bizarre: drenched in sweat, bloodshot eyes, and strolling around in my slippers.)

The girls all jumped their hearts out for a couple of hours and when we asked Liv’s friend where she wanted to go for dinner, she wisely suggested sushi. I had a spicy salmon poke bowl, the girls all ate three different sushi rolls, and we all enjoyed miso soup and edamame. It was a great way to end the weekend!

This week, it’s back to the swing of things and getting ready for our cruise. I’m pretty pumped for some sunshine and beach time.

I hope you have a happy Monday and I’ll see ya in the morning with the current skincare routine.

xoxo

Gina

Looking for a workout? Try this kettlebell circuit!

The post heart eyes weekend appeared first on The Fitnessista.

heart eyes weekend published first on https://olimpsportnutritionde.tumblr.com/

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wannabanauthor · 7 years ago

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Prompt: Chloe and Nadine are in the USA on vacation with their adopted eight year old daughter, Meenu, Meenu's honorary Aunt Elena, Uncles Nate, and Sam, and her cousin Cassie, in Los Angeles, when one night they hear a baby's cry under the Santa Monica Pier while the couples are out on dates (Sam volunteers to babysit his two nieces). When Chloe and Nadine go to investigate, they discover abandoned triplets, two girls/one boy, of European-African American decent and decide to adopt them :)!

I’m not going to respond to all 18 of your promptsseparately, so I’m listing them below the cut if anyone else wants to writethem.

Side note: Receiving18 prompts in the space of an hour or two was incredibly overwhelming, and Iknow you meant well, but please don’t ever do it again. I know I said send in as many as you want,but this was overkill. I am only oneperson, and I have a full-time day job, and I’m an indie author in my sparetime. So all these prompts showing up atonce was a lot to take in.

Also, as you can probably guess, I am not going to writeall of these, and here are the following reasons:

For Prompts 1, 2,4, 5, 6, 7, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18:

I have a few issues and personal preferences thatconflict majorly with these prompts. Youmention Nadine and Chloe adopting Meenu, and Meenu already has a family. Her father’s in the army, and I’m not killinghim off so that Nadine and Chloe can adopt Meenu. For me personally, she’s more like their goddaughteror adorable little cousin (two familial terms that POC use to refer to someonewho’s family by choice).

Then there’s the business of Nadine and Chloe havingtriplets. Personally, I only see themhaving one kid IF they even decide to have kids. That’s just my headcanon for them. I can’t get into the headspace to write themas parents to triplets and Meenu. Also,I feel like Sam Drake is a third wheel, and I usually only like to mention himin passing in my fics. So all theseprompts are a no-go for me. However, ifanyone else wants to write them, including you, have at it.

For Prompts 8 and9:

Exploring Greece and writing Chloe as a disabledcharacter is a shit ton of research for me to do for fanfic, and I have limitedtime. However, writing disabledcharacters is something I want to incorporate into my indie author writing, sothank you for putting it out there. I dofanfic for fun and as a break from writing for my business, and even theStitches fanfic for Chlodine took an hour of research to get the detailsright. I would like to write these, butI don’t have the time to do, so here they are if anyone else wants to writethem.

For Prompts 3, 10,and 11:

These I might actually get to. However, they are at the bottom of the promptlist, so there will be a few other fanfics before them.

Lastly, you have a large and detailed imagination, so youmight want to try writing fanfiction too. There’s no such thing as too many fanfictions in a small fandom, and themore the merrier.

Prompts:

Prompt 1:

Prompt: Chloe and Nadine are in the USA onvacation with their adopted eight year old daughter, Meenu, Meenu's honoraryAunt Elena, Uncles Nate, and Sam, and her cousin Cassie, in Los Angeles, whenone night they hear a baby's cry under the Santa Monica Pier while the couplesare out on dates (Sam volunteers to babysit his two nieces). When Chloe andNadine go to investigate, they discover abandoned triplets, two girls/one boy,of European-African American decent and decide to adopt them :)!

Prompt 2:

Prompt: Chloe and/or Nadine have to meet withthe high school principal and Meenu's teacher after their fourteen year olddaughter punches another student in the nose for saying bad things about hermoms and younger siblings, and are torn between being proud for defending theirfamily/and scolding Meenu for fighting. Bonus: the principal was also Chloe'sprincipal when she was still in high school, and remembers being quite thetrouble maker as well :)

Prompt 3:

Prompt: Set right after Chloe and Nadine defeatAvad, and escape the train: Chloe accepts Nadine's proposal to be her partnercausing Nadine to blush bashfully in excitement. Chloe of course teases her forblushing, calling her cute and adorable, and to shut her up, Nadine pecks herlips quickly, Sam is shook but before he can question what just happened, Chloepulls Nadine back in for a deeper kiss, "What took you so long,China?""Shut up, and just kiss me, Frazer."

Prompt 4:

Prompt: Nadine and Chloe take their kids,fifteen year old Meenu, and the seven year old triplets, to Disney World inOrlando, Florida for a family vacation. Bonus: The Drakes and their kids,eleven year old Cassie, and five year old Tyler(boy or girl), join theFrazer-Ross crew on vacation as well as Sam with his four year old twins,Austin(boy or girl) and Skye(boy or girl) :)!

Prompt 5:

Prompt: Thirteen year old Meenu suspects thatshe might be gay, or at least bi, and decides to have a talk with her momsabout sexuality.

Prompt 6:

Prompt: Chloe and Nadine introduce a newlyadopted seven year old Meenu to Chloe's mum in Melbourne, Australia, and twoyears later, they introduce their one year old triplets to their new grandma aswell :) (Chloe is about 31 or 32, and Nadine is 33)

Prompt 7:

Prompt: It's the triplets' first day ofkindergarten, and Nadine and Chloe Frazer-Ross are kissing their babies goodbyewhen one or two of the other parents make a homophobic and/or racist remarkabout their family, and before either woman can react, the rest of the parents,and even the teacher(s) jump to Chloe and Nadine's defense, and gives thebigots a good dressing down.

Prompt 8:

Prompt: Chloe calls up her baby cousin, LaraCroft, and her wife, Samantha Croft née Nishimura, to come on a trip with herand her wife, Nadine Frazer-Ross, to explore Greece :)

Prompt 9:

Prompt: Fiveyears after Lost Legacy; After a treasure hunt gone bad, Chloe ends up losingan arm and/or a leg, and now has to rely on friends and family to get throughthis latest obstacle, but Nadine won't let her wife face this hurdle alone, andtheir kids won't either. Was wondering if this could possibly be a full fledgedseries of the Frazer-Ross family and their adventures, only if it's okay withyou? I'm happy to provide more prompts if you ever need any :)!

Prompt 10:

Prompt: Nadine takes Chloe on a date to theSmithsonian in D.C., and then for their next date, Chloe takes Nadine to theSan Diego Zoo or the Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta :)

Prompt 11:

Prompts:Chloe discovers that Nadine is an amazing artist, and Nadine finds out thatChloe can play the drums and/or guitar :)

Prompt 12:

Prompt: Chloe and Nadine's first Christmas withseven year old Meenu, and then later, their first Christmas with the triplets :)

Prompt 13:

Prompt: Fifteen year old Meenu invites herfirst girlfriend over to meet her family, and her moms proceed to do whatparents do best when meeting the person their child is dating.

Prompt 14:

Prompt: The first time that Meenu calls Nadineand Chloe her moms in public.

Prompt 15:

Prompt: The first time Sam babysits thetriplets, and discovers that they are the perfect fusions of their moms, andthat they love tormenting their Uncle Sam :)

Prompt 16:

Prompt: Chloetakes eleven year old Meenu and the three year old triplets to the pet store toadopt a fish or turtle, but they end up going to the animal shelter andadopting a Great Dane puppy named Scooby-Doo, a Doberman puppy named Cerberus,a Pit bull puppy named She Hulk, and an Egyptian Mao kitten named Artemis, muchto Nadine's shock when she comes home from her trip to Rome, "I thoughtyou said that you were getting the kids a fish, or a turtle, not the whole damnZoo, woman!"

Prompt 17:

Prompt: Chloe wins tickets for a Disney Cruisefor the whole family (Drakes included) to the Bahamas (Meenu is sixteen, thetriplets are eight, Cassie is twelve, Tyler is six, and the twins, Austin andSkye, are five).

Prompt 18:

Prompt: Chloeleaves for a business trip in Paris, and Nadine stays home with the kids, onlyfor nine year old Meenu to come down with appendicitis, and her mama rushes herto the emergency room, three one year olds in tow, after calling Chloe, whothen proceeds to jump on the earliest flight back home as soon as possible tobe with her family.

#chlodine fanfic prompts #nadine ross #chloe frazer #aaliyahkitsune1994

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