#i had this cell phone guys he's literally just like me for real

[bloodydeanwinchester]

"dean winchester only listens to music on cassette tapes or vinyl he would NEVER use an ipod or an mp3 player"

excuuuse me but season 2 dean has an lg chocolate cell phone (a phone that was SUPER popular in like 2006/07 and was advertised as being an mp3 player that's also a cell phone) AND he's literally shown in 2x13 houses of the holy listening to led zeppelin on it:

[oshygoshy]

7:29 am

word count - 953 words

warnings - reader is female in this one. nothing explicit, but suggestive at the end. general intim*cy (throws up, claws at my skin, shakes cell bar handles)

a/n - ermmm guys happy birthday to my glorious king oikawa butttt this is kinda cringe im not gonna lie also i literally woke up at like 3 am and it's past 8 am rn so forgive me for typos my head hurts and my eyes are strained and uhh im formatting this on pc so idk how it looks on mobile but ykw?? that is simply not my business

“who’s blowing up your phone like that?” you mused, sipping your morning coffee as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes. it was a failing task, though oikawa had to commend you for the valiant attempt.

“i’m not sure,” he hummed, blowing on his tea to try to cool it down. he tried unlocking his phone from his current position, huffing when it didn’t work. he tapped in his passcode and opened up his messages app. 

you peer over his shoulder, resting your chin on his bicep. you raise an eyebrow when you see the message. “japanese? tooru, dear, are you texting one of your fangirls back from home?” 

“baby,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss you on your temple, “you are my home.”

“real smooth. tell me what your side piece said though,” you say, unamused. (but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a happy grin on your face.)

“do you remember when i was showing you japan’s volleyball roster, and we were watching one of their exhibition matches?”

“mhmm.”

“remember their athletic trainer?”

you turned your head at that, your cheek squishing adorably against his shoulder. “the really buff guy that you totally had the hots for?”

oikawa’s jaw dropped at that. “excuse me?? i don’t know whether i should be offended or disgusted by that comment-“

“-tooru, please. as your partner, i could see the bedroom eyes you had for him from the audience seating.”

his lips thinned as you turned your attention back to his screen. your sleepy voice tugged at his heartstrings, but he really wished you would say something else. “never said that was a bad thing…he kind of looks like me, don’t you think? it’s clear you have a type.”

“now, i don’t even know what you’re-“ he tried but only got cut off by you again with a giggle.

“-great arms, smoldering gaze, and ample space in the chest!” you say with a wink. 

you hear his audible groan, and can practically feel his eyes rolling in distaste, but you miss his flushed cheeks and dopey grin.

“checks out. he’s cute, in a grumpy kinda way. anyway, tell me what he said.”

“uh,” oikawa started, faltering at that comment. (iwa-chan? cute?) he squinted at his screen; he could really use his glasses right now. “it says…happy birthday.”

you frown. “that’s it? it looks like a longer message than just ‘happy birthday.’”

“he added a ‘stupidkawa’ at the end too.”

you laugh at that, but still have an eyebrow raised, seemingly not satisfied. after a moment, you shrug, letting your curiosity drop, and instead reach a hand up. “you should let me say something back.” you didn’t ask for permission, sending a little smiley face emoji and a bazillion pink glittery hearts. “there. i’m sure these will transcend our language barrier.” 

he shuts off his phone, placing it facedown as you move his cup out of his hands, and slide yourself into his lap. the morning rays are warm, argentina’s summer already making her mark on your glowing skin. but for now, in your private kitchen, his hair blowing gently from the air conditioning vent above, and the most precious smile and both your faces, oikawa couldn’t help but kiss you softly, feeling your smile against his lips.

“happy birthday, tooru,” you whisper against his skin. “my favorite olympian.” you lean back a bit, resting an arm against the counter. “and don’t worry your pretty little head about anything. since today’s the start of the weekend, we can do whatever you want. my treat.”

his hands rested against your waist, rubbing ambiguous shapes into the warmth. “how about we start off with brunch at the cafe we like? the one with the cute cat sitting out front?”

“‘kay. lemme get ready first,” you say, and with much strength, you leave the comfort of his arms, yawning lazily as you head back to your shared room. he stared openly as you stretched your arms above your head, and could only laugh when you flicked his forehead. 

“quit ogling me, stupidkawa.”

“but it’s my job to ogle you! and don’t call me that again. you sound just like him,” he said with a fake shudder. he heard your snicker echo in the hallway as he turned his attention back to his phone.  

it made sense why you were suspicious of iwa-chan’s text at first. though you didn’t speak japanese, it really did look too long to just say “happy birthday.” but he made sure to leave out the second half of his friend’s text. 

oikawa tapped a finger against the edge of the phone as he kept rereading it.

iwa-chan “happy birthday, stupidkawa. take a break, and keep an eye on your girl. some of the guys said they’d buy a ticket just see her.”  you "😊😁💕💖💓💞💖💕💓💓💖✨💖💖" “thanks, iwa-chan i'll be sure to take care of myself." "the hearts were from her. did you know she thinks you have ‘great arms, a smoldering gaze, and a big chest?’” “i told her you called me stupidkawa, and now she calls me that too. you’re a bad influence”

he saw the little dots pop up immediately. japan was only 12 hours ahead, so it should be around 7 pm for him.

iwa-chan “did she really? cute. maybe i should meet her too.” 

his eyes kept flicking back to the last message.

“meet her too.”

“meet her”

“cute”

oikawa raised his brows, thinking. wouldn’t that be a treat, to have iwaizumi and you meet? well, doesn’t matter. they’ll be seeing each other soon in paris for the olympics. but…he thought back to what you said about him. (great arms? cute? you both found each other cute??)

well, maybe they can have another, more secret competition back in his room. winner takes all. 

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie was…struggling to say the least. And by the end of the first week of sticking around this city, he was completely out of ways to rationalize what the fuck he was still doing here. 

Indianapolis was just supposed to be a pitstop after visiting Wayne. Then, he was supposed to see Chrissy in a few days, spend some time in San Francisco before jet setting around the world for his year-long vacation. But instead here he was, avoiding Chrissy’s calls, opting instead to take the coward’s route of sending cryptic texts and reassurances that he was fine. Despite the fact that he’d canceled his flight a few days ago. 

And for what? Some hot guy he had only seen twice? That he couldn’t even get past first base with?

And while technically it was the best date of his life, that didn’t exactly warrant whatever the fuck he was doing here. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the fucking lies. 

It was safe to say that he was floundering over here. Which was so fucking stupid. He was Eddie fucking Munson for God’s sake, not some lovesick highschooler. And he was sure that there were many easier flings to be had in his immediate future if he just left. This was when it was time to abort the mission right? He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and that was that. 

So why was that so hard to accept? Why was he so fucking obsessed with this dude? Eddie had no fucking clue. Well…maybe he had some clue. Because Steve was funny. And he was smart, adventurous, and interesting enough for Eddie to want to know everything about him. Not to mention painfully attractive. And then add in being a complete sweetheart on top of everything else. 

All Eddie knew was that he wanted to see him again. And leaving now felt…wrong. Because Steve liked him. He obviously liked him, or at least Eddie really hoped he liked him. He at least liked him enough to give him his number. And answer his calls.

They had been talking a lot in the past few days. Historically, Eddie had always hated phone calls, especially when a single text could usually save you a half an hour of awkward small talk. But with Steve…it was different. Everything with Steve was different. They didn’t even have to be talking about anything important. They spent an hour and a half the other night debating over plot holes in the Lord of the Rings franchise. 

He had been calling him from the hotel’s room phone, adding in yet another lie about forgetting his cell in his non-existent fumigated apartment. But he didn’t feel too guilty about that one. Especially since he went through the extra effort to buy a new real (fake?) cellphone. One that he had purchased specifically for talking to Steve with. Because no matter how much he liked the guy, he wasn’t breaking the cardinal rule of keeping his real number a secret. Not after the insane shit fans sent him the last time it accidently went public.

No, he did the much saner thing of dropping eight hundred dollars on a smartphone and an extra phone plan that he’d only use to talk to the dude he’d been dating for less than a week. 

He really was killing it with the circular logic these days. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This whole…thing had gotten away from him. And it was becoming a touch too insane for Eddie to keep rationalizing the lies. And it wasn’t even his usual brand of insanity, this felt almost clinical. 

But that didn’t stop him from dialing Steve’s number the second his new account was officially activated. 

It rang twice before Steve answered, “Hello?”

God, even the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie shiver. 

“Hey it’s me,” Eddie said like a moron. Like Steve would recognize his voice after one date and a handful of calls-

“Oh Eddie, hi!” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s so weird. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m guessing you got your phone back?”

It was the smallest bit disconcerting, that just the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie’s heart beat like crazy. He was kind of used to being the guy who made people nervous, not the other way around. Though he had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to be on the other side of it.

“I did. And you were huh? What were you thinking about?” Eddie purred, more than a bit proud that his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.  But if he was ever going to fuck this guy he needed to amp up the charm.

But unfortunately for him, Steve was very good at throwing him for a loop, “You know those Afghan Hounds with the really long hair? Well I just saw a black one that I swear looked exactly like you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, loud and unbidden, “God, you really know the way into a man’s heart don’t you? Who doesn’t like being compared to a dog?”

“It was a very pretty dog,” Steve tried, “Extremely cute.”

Eddie laid back on his bed, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot, "You think I'm pretty?"

He couldn’t see him, but Eddie could swear that Steve was rolling his eyes before saying, "I think you know you're pretty. You’ve seen a mirror before right? Y’know, the shiny things that show your reflection?”

God, he could be such a little bitch. Eddie freaking loved it.  

“Well now you’re just making me blush,” Eddie laughed, hoping that it came off as a little sarcastic instead of painfully honest. 

“And I bet that’s pretty too. So what's up?"

Oh y’know, just obsessively thinking about you near constantly, “I was just wondering when I would get to see you again.” 

"Well, my sister's going to be at her girlfriend's place tonight. How do you feel about coming over? I know it’s late but-”

“I’d love to,” Eddie interrupted, already excited. If that wasn’t a green light for them going further Eddie didn’t know what was. In a few hours it would be nearly midnight. And Eddie was more than down for a booty call, “When?”

“Maybe a few hours? I can text you the address. I’m sorry that my schedule is so fucked, but y’know. Night shift.”

“No worries. Guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it.”

From the latest chapter of this fic, inspired by this post

[gffa]

I've been watching a lot of this cleaning channel because it's great for motivation to go clean stuff, where it's not about ~*transforming*~ the space (which can be very fun to watch, too) but just about taking a hoarder's space and actually Going Through The Stuff And Cleaning Up. The channel is very soothing because the host is someone who actually has read up on what causes hoarding, he knows that you can't just take a shovel to that stuff (you will making the hoarding worse if you clean without the consent of the hoarder, but also there's always genuinely valuable stuff in there, you can't just shovel it out the door, you have to go through it), like Oh I Feel So Seen. But this video in particular hit really hard today because it's from a "clean" hoarder and ohhhh that's it, that's what I've been dealing with. It was never that there was a bug or rodent infestation, if ever there was so much as a single ant in the house, everything was pulled out to scrub things down and get every last one taken care of, the only real dirt was dust in the places nobody could reach. It was just. Stuff everywhere. In the video, there was a moment in the kitchen when he pulled out a little bin of old cell phones and I felt a moment of Kinship and, about two hours later, when I was back to cleaning out dad's hoard, you know what I found? Old cellphones. It just smacked me in the face all over again. It's also the commentary about how, in every hoarder house he goes to, he finds things like old medication or pill bottle (oh my god I have been able to finally throw away what must be over 50 of them, and so much old medication has also been thrown), paperwork mixed in with junk mail (I'm not kidding, if you piled up all the paperwork/junk mail mom and I had to go through, it would have been about five feet high), or hoarded food (literal hundreds of plastic grocery bags full of expired food I hauled out) and it just hits over and over again how much I'm resonating with everything there. Anyway, if you want to know what I'm working with, basically it's a lot like that video above, it's "clean" hoarding, but that's basically what it was like in every single room and I've been trying to go over and tackle at least some of it every day, while also helping to get the old carpet replaced, the walls painted, etc. And trying to choose furniture that's not too expensive but also doesn't look like a teenager's bedroom or like it was salvaged out of a Cleanup Week pile. And trying to figure out where to store the necessary house things, like a basic tool set and cleaning supplies. But, you guys, be proud of us, I got several baskets worth of small stuff storage put away (extra lotions, extra charging cords, etc., things you keep but don't need sitting out), we got the armchair back into the guest bedroom, I put together a hamper instead of just plopping a clothes basket on the closet floor for dirty clothes, I put all my bathroom decor together in a bin for when we get the new vanity (the current one is so old that it's basically rusted over underneath), put all the after Christmas decorations we bought this year away, put some groceries away, AND I STARTED MY SECOND LOAD OF LAUNDRY TODAY. It's small stuff but it's time-consuming and I need you all to be proud of me for keeping moving on All Of This.

[mystycalypso]

...Wtf is wtrb youtube?

I don't mean the show itself I mean the fandom. The theories.

I got recommended a video bringing up a continuity error and I was genuinely curious.

You wanna know what the "error" was, tumblr?

"The games and books take place in the 90s! But Trinity (who he doesn't mention by name, just calls her "one of the main characters") has a phone! This must be an error!"

...

*INHALE*

The worst part?

Everyone in the comments is treating this as theory fodder.

INCLUDING "this is actually about Nicky's kid, so it's Nicky Jr." As well as "They aged everyone down two years, so Nicky is 11"

W H A T ? ! N O ? !

A. Nicky Jr??? No??? Stop just- I'm not even justifying that with a rant.

B. Just wrong! They're in Ravenbrooks Middle school. Now you could argue, "but 11 years old is middle school" however, Maritza and Ivan still seem to be younger than Nicky (Enzo, Trinity and Nicky are the same grade and Maritza is still Enzo's younger sister) now, if he is the MINIMUM age/grade for middle school, why is she there? Exactly. Theory debunked.

In general, that video's theory and 90% of the comments can be explained so easily like- guys- it's not difficult. Tiny build literally just decided to bump this series forward in time. Why? Who cares!

Also, to call this an error makes it seem like ONLY Trinity has a phone, but like- the realtor has one, Maritza has one, etc. Also

MARITZA USES GEN Z SLANG GUYS

This is as bad as the people who look at- Nicky's eye colour change and are like- still calling it an animation error? Like guys- animation errors like this don't go on for a whole episode and teasers.

Just- how does the youtube side of this fandom stretch so hard for nothing then shut down the actual theory fodder? I don't understand

Kaydin looked at the comments more than I had the strength to, so they're gonna rant about it too <3

(Live footage of me entering discord dms with Kaydin when this came up [the autism makes it painful to hear people be so wrong about the hyperfixation])

(Live footage of Kaydin reading the comments [this is a transition])

Operating under the assumption that everything is canon to a singular timeline restricts the creativity of the Dynamic Pixels team as well. It's very clear they're very passionate about their franchise, despite its very obvious mechanical problems. It's very story-driven, whether one likes it or not, so timeline shifts aren't a concern of mine because they don't affect the story. Planting a story in a certain period can lead to some interesting plot points due to what is 'canon' to real life (ie., Theodore being a mechanical genius in his prime between (presumably) the 70s and 90s), but just because it's important in other media like the books do NOT mean it's important to the show. The games could have been set in 2145 for all I care and still had its current aesthetic. I would have been a *little* confused, but it would have been obvious in that instance that the time didn't matter. The story did. Hyperfixating on details like the type of phone or slang being out of place in a media you don't actually know the time period of for certain is ignorant at best and misinformative at worst. Because we do have those details included in the show, though, proves that we can assume it's at a point that we have cell phones as well as the term 'sus' being used by 11-13-year-olds. As in, it's taking place in the modern day, based on the details we have.

In fact, Theodore's technological prowess hasn't even been *mentioned* as of Season 1's release, we just know his house if fucking crazy.

[livvyofthelake]

reading an ODD book at work. imagine being like hm i liked the one episode of this tv show i watched i should read the book (or. the first of the several books) it was based on because i don’t have time to watch a whole tv show (literally 2 seasons. there are 2 seasons and they aren’t even long seasons) and then the book is weird and the entire first half isn’t even about the titular guy from the tv show. i mean we finally got to him but this is literally halfway through

ok i typed all of that at work and then bestie coworker manager (she’s technically my manager but like not really so i’m not about to call her bestie manager she’s not that far above me. it’s complex) anyway she was getting stressed out about all the shit we had to get done so i got off my phone because like it really is that serious if we don’t do this stuff it’s not getting done and then the deeply annoying district people come and get mad even though it’s really not that serious it’s literally clothes. anyway. i know no one notices when i’m hashtag offline but just so you know i have been irregularly offline lately. for like the past month idk. because work is making me tireddd i’m literally about to morph into the hypothetical person from all those posts where people did marvel discourse like “well actually capitalism makes us so tired after work it’s only possible to consume media that doesn’t require the use of brain cells so actually you’re ableist and against the proletariat if you hate marvel” that’s about to be me if this continues. i’d actually choose something better than the mcu though. whatever the point is that work sucks and they don’t pay me enough but there are not enough jobs out there i find more tolerable that would pay much more so it’s hard to be motivated to get a Real Job. in this fucking economy 🙄. anyway i know no one has noticed or cared about me not posting but that’s my explanation. yes i was posting yesterday and the day before. i didn’t have work yesterday or the day before i was watching tv. also i’ve been Posting less because frankly lately all i want to talk or think about is those fucking shadowhunters and i don’t really like Posting about those fucking shadowhunters. i genuinely don’t like talking about things i really like to an audience of people that Don’t Get It. i also stopped posting about once upon a time when i realized there were people in my midst that knew what i was talking about. you might have watched three seasons of the same show as me and then given up when it got too cringe but you did NOT watch it the same way i did. which is the objectively correct way. and that’s all there is to say on the matter.

anyway yeah the book. there’s three parts each focused on a different character relevant to the story and part one was honestly confusing and bad and i considered quitting. the guy part one is about was genuinely just unlikeable which is not necessarily inherently bad i mean books can have unlikeable narrators and still be good but this guy was just not hitting and thank god his part was the shortest. and then part two was weird and disturbing but somewhat intriguing so i kept at it. the narrator of this part was a guy who just got out of prison after like 12 years for the rape and murder of a 15 year old girl. which sounds AWFUL but he didn’t do it and the facts of the case are misrepresented and it was like. deeply interesting to read his part even though i didn’t particularly enjoy it. might have enjoyed it more if i had thought this book would be about him and not my buddy will trent from the tv. do you guys watch will trent? neither do i. i saw one episode this spring and liked it so here we are. it’s sort of like a cop show if a cop show was kind of odd. it has all the markers of a cop show but something about it stops my brain from recognizing it as such idk. i am actually confused about why this michael character is in the show when um. the character in the book is like. a pedophile. and probably a serial killer. why does the guy from quantico play him in the show if he’s supposed to be a pedophile and serial killer? to be fair i do not know how this book ends. maybe the guy who just got out of prison really did do it all idk why should i know. anyway. part three just started and THIS part is finally about will and angie (my friends from the tv… from the one singular episode…) and they’re slayinggggg and EVERYTHING is coming together… the pieces are falling into place this could be huge!

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 8 Matsuribayashi pt. 18

Requesting assistance from a queen

Urge to make you cringe yourself to death rising.

Just yank that band-aid off Furude-san. I support it. Given Rika’s relaxed expression here, I wonder if this is one of those moments she’s had to relive over and over? To spoil things slightly, there’s only one fragment that has Rika and Hanyuu actually talking to one another. So a part of me wonders if this happened before Rika was fully aware of Hanyuu’s existence, or if her attitude here is informed from the fact that she’s heard this all before?

I think Rika’s mom is well within her rights to be super skeptical of this information he’s just dumping onto them. I wonder how that conversation even got started? Was Rika’s dad just doing whatever around the shrine one day and Takano (let’s be real it would be Takano) rolled up and went “hey buddy, got time for a chat?” Or do you think he went in to the clinic for something like a sinus infection, and that’s when Takano got him?

Thinking about it now, you notice how except for Satoko, Keiichi, Rena, and Shion no one in or around Hinamizawa ever exhibits any sort of symptoms of Hinamizawa Syndrome? There’s this line here that Rika cured some old folks of their migraines after they traveled out of the village, but nobody ever really seems to be afflicted with the parasites. I wonder why that is. If Hinamizawa Syndrome is known to induce extreme paranoia and suspicion to the point of death, and it gets worsened by stress how come Ooishi never ran afoul of the syndrome? That guy is super paranoid to a fault, and suspicious of everyone in Hinamizawa for that matter. You can’t say that it’s because he lives in Okinomiya, because Shion lived in Okinomiya, and the syndrome got her all the same.

I know I brought it up a lot, but you’d think that since it’s claimed that the Syndrome really sets in in moments of high stress that it would’ve affected Rena’s dad. Perhaps there’s some explanation I missed, or it’s explained away in a manga, or the light novels, or the anime, or the stage play, or the live action movie series, or the live action television series, or the sequel anime series, or the DS remake that wasn’t translated in any way, or the cell phone sequel, or a compilation of reddit threads, or a twitter thread, or the random musings on his blog he probably has, or Higurashi: Snake Eater, or one guy somewhere at some point heard someone mention that he mentioned it offhandedly to his pizza delivery man. But you’d think since he was going through it during his divorce that something would have happened to him. Maybe he just never became terminal, somehow.

I mean… no? You could make another heir to the Furude family name. What’s to stop you from having another kid at this point? Why didn’t any of the Furude ancestors have kids outside of their apparently one and only? Does it dilute the divinity pool to have the first born daughter and then have four or five more after that? How would it work with the needing a first born daughter if any of the Furudes at any point had twins? Would it literally be whoever got out first, and then the other gets thrown into the rejection pit?

I think this is one of the repeat fragments. Just going off of this last little interaction it has to be.

[dballzposting]

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. BUT IS THIS REALLY REAL? ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS?

- Dragon ball wont fucking die so they have to keep coming up with new shit and they were like OK. Let’s do a Goten & Trunks thing. It’s untapped potential. 

- Becasue of that, becasue of them needing a story to tell, they indirectly confirmed many things that many of us already assumed but could never be said. Things like: Goten & Trunks still hang out even when they get a little older (although to be fair in the Super anime we saw them together constantly, but still, the gap between that and EOZ was unspoken for); they play video games; goten & trunks are still on the same wavelength; THEY ATTEND THE SAME SCHOOL, etc etc.

- THIS IS HUGE ! CANON GOTEN & TRUNKS MANGA! THIS ISNT FUCKING FANART! THIS IS REAL SHIT!!!!!

Im only like um 10 pages in but commenting on what I’ve seen: ARE YOU SEEING THIS SHIT ???

THIS IS SO FUNNY ...

- “we need to do a story with goten and trunks.” “What should they be doing?” “Um, the franchise is doing a SUPERHERO theme right now, so they should be SUPERHEROS, Like The Great Saiyaman!” “AWESOME! But why? They thought that the Saiyaman stuff was a little lame, no doubt..?” “Well. They’re dragon ball characters so they just have a natural affinity for saving people and being helpful, first of all. Second of all, Goten & Trunks are certified teens now so aesthetic and style is important to them, they absolutely would not go for that saiyaman shit. So clearly they have a DIFFERENT source of inspiration.” “What you mean like a video game character or something...?” “...YES.”

- “Okay so WHAT sort of video game hero is he like.. what’s his SCHTICK?” “Um. IDK. He cleans shit. Mr. Clean.” “We’ll call him...CLEANGOD. It’s stupid enough that it’s in-line for Goten & Trunks.”

AND GOTEN & TRUNKS ARE REALLY STICKING TO THAT CLEAN SCHTICK !!!! AND IT’S SO STUPID BECASUE THEY LITERALLY .. 

HAVE TO COMMIT TO THIS BIT! GAH!!

LIKE THEY MADE CLEANING COOL!! Gotta Take Out The Trash . . . 

and it’s dragon ball and it won’t fucking die so now they play video games and everyone has a CELL PHONE. Fuck it. Chichi on FaceTime

^ GOTEN YANKING OFF HIS PANTYHOSE ??

And “Our Transformation Sequences Aren’t Heroic At All.” That’s what he calls it. That’s what he says. That’s how he thinks.

HERE’S A SCENE THAT’S GOING TO MAKE ME THROW UP:

WHAT DOES THAT FUCKING MEAN !!!

in this manga, Trunks has to ask Pilaf to make him a watch like The Great Saiyaman’s so that he can change outfits instantaneously. Like, he doesnt know how to make one himself. Like .. MAYBE GOTEN ISNT BEING SHITTY but HE REALLY MEANS IT ?! Guys this is a canon manga. Toriyama worked on this shit. We can’t take this lightly. DOES TRUNKS NOT KNOW HOW TO DO SHIT?

Trunks says that and then Goten is like “Clearly you don’t know how to suicidebait people online.” IS THIS REAL?

Does Trunks sit down at the computer like Vegeta and cross his arms and squint really hard and like ... NOT REALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT’S GOING ON OR HOW IT WORKS? Like. Maybe he can do mechanical stuff. He can build a BMX bike and he can help his mom make blueprints. He can fix shit. But computers, are, like, it all happens behind the scenes, man. Those motherboards are tiny. Maybe he just doesnt fair well with what he cant SEE. Who knows...

UP NEXT: SON GOTEN PANTY SHOT ?!

HIS PHONE IS IN THERE VIBRATING. YES HE HAS A PHONE. EVERYBODY HAS A PHONE NOW. 

BUT... WHERE’S THE POCKET EXACTLY ...?

THE COMPOSITION OF THIS SHOT .. THEY HAD TO DRAW HIS CAPE LIGHTLY WAVING OUT OF THE WAY ... SO WE CAN ALL SEE HIS ASS VIBRATE ..

WAIT. GIVE ME LIKE 5 MINUTES. 

Speaking of Son Goten’s outfit. Look at his jeans and belt:

Typical enough in dragon ball but like... I’m jealous. Who bought him that nice ass belt.

Anyway this is just so stupid look at this.

Goten on his damn phone. Trunks is like “I just wanna FIGHT SOME MIGHTY EVIL and do it with swagg :/”

Honestly I feel for the kid. In blood and upbringing, he just wants to do good, kick ass, and pop off. Hang in there little dude...!

KINTO-UN CAMEO ! Also THEY GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL?!!1>?!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?

I should save the rant about their superhero outfits for a different post but IDK when that’ll be. Theyre just so stupid. They’re skintight yet bulky at the worst points. Theyre ugly colors. GOTEN HAS A LONG, LUXURIOUS CAPE while Trunks has a TINY BABY BITCH CAPE and I KNOW they pick on each other for that stuff.

Goten is like “Atleast my cape isnt a napkin. Atleast when we’re in the air everybody can see my cape and know I’m a superhero.” And then when he goes to the bathroom and comes back there is pee and toilet paper stuck on his cape and it gets caught on all the door handles.

Trunks is like “Goten. You don’t live in Capsule Corp so I dont blame you for not knowing this, but when you design any new product, you have to learn how to marry STYLE with USE. My cape has attitude, it’s short and advant-garde, it’s recognizable, and it’s PRACTICAL. Your cape is gonna have you getting tangled up in yourself while trying to catch bullets.”

Goten is like “It is YOU who doesnt know anything about style. Watch my cape frame every pose I pull, silhouetting me against the backdrop of carnage that we have arrived to fix; watch my cape dance behind me like a loyal shadow; watch my large, classy, strong cape bring comfort to these towns on SIGHT, while your tiny baby bitch cape distinguishes you only as a feckless fool, an EMBARRASSMENT to heroes everywhere, and the forces of evil will point and laugh when you threaten them!”

and then when goten walks away Trunks just picks up goten’s cape and puts it on some piece of metal infrastructure protruding from the building theyre arguing behind, and he watches as it just completely tears off as Goten stubbornly maintains his pace walking away.

[ladystrallan]

Once Upon a Time season 2 thoughts

I’m rewatching OUAT and I wanted to share some of my opinions on each season!

- “are the nuns still nuns or can they… y’know date? Don’t say it’s me asking” Dr Whale you rascal

- Rumple x smashing glass: the real otp

- Rip Charming’s mom, you kinda remind me of Hercules’ mom

- Ok I kinda like Dr Whale now

- Regina it’s been DECADES you need to move on from Daniel

- I ship Emma and Neal so hard

- Wow the introduction of captainswan AND swanfire in one episode???

- Nooooo Belle crossing the town line :(

- This arc was TRAGIC

- NO NOT THE CHIPPED CUP

- Ugh I hate the Greg and Tamara arc

- Ruby x whale??? Why do I kinda ship it

- “What’s his name?” “Baelfire” “A STRONG NAME” what a delivery

- Robert Carlyle is the best actor in the cast

- Nooooo he just wanted to be a good dad

- Okay I’m really starting to not like Regina

- Idk why she is mad at snow and not cora, THE ACTUAL PERSON WHO KILLED DANIEL

- Snow’s mom: coughs into a handkerchief, me: SATINE

- Drink every time rumple says “bae”

- The casting of young snow was spot on, their mannerisms are so alike

- He called him papa… I’m crying

- NO IT WAS CORA

- Literally why does she hate Eva so much

- Regina you’re on the wrong side, killing daniel was part of her ten step plan to make you queen

- She just threw mrs patmore out of the window

- Not Tamara

- Pettiness runs in the Mills family

- Cora: murdered eva because she tripped her once years before

- Regina: wants to kill snow and everyone close to her because she didn’t keep a secret when she was TEN

- EW cora x rumple

- Their vibes are so gross

- Imagine if they had a kid… I can’t

- Screaming crying throwing up

- Rumple talking to Belle on the phone :(

- That was so sad

- RUMPLE AND NEAL

- THIS IS SO SAD

- Ooh snow tricking Regina

- “Any baby I have… it won’t be yours” yikes

- The amount of mommy issues in this show…

- 2x17 I hate this episode

- “You always pay your debts” is rumple a lannister?

- I hate Greg/Owen so much you have no idea

- Wooden august looks rough

- Like it’s not terrible but it’s not good either

- The dragon: is a magical powerful man, also the dragon: gets killed by a taser

- THE TASER SHOULD NOT HAVE AFFECTED AUGUST BECAUSE HE IS MADE OF WOOD WHICH DOESN’T CONDUCT ELECTRICITY

- Noooo why did blue turn him into a little boy and not a hot guy again

- GREG AND TAMARA LEAVE RIGHT NOW

- I can’t decide which I hate more cora x rumple or greg x tamara

- Both have such gross energy

- REGINA YOU ARE RUINING RUMBELLE

- “I can’t focus on my spinning with all your crying” lol

- Not Lacey

- Rumple about Belle/Lacey: oh no she’s not wholesome anymore

- I actually like the Lacey episode

- I don’t remember having liked it but I do now

- The sound rumple makes when he sees the prisoner is gone lol

- Wingman charming

- “I’m so sorry about your dress…” why don’t you take it off? ;)

- Did they recast Robin Hood? That’s weird

- She’s into him being evil…

- Rumbelle is so cute omg

- “Jail cell? I don’t think so” lol

- “She’s the evil one” GIRL YOU JUST KILLED AN ENTIRE VILLAGE

- I’m sorry I just can’t get behind Regina

- She’s just so manipulative and has zero regret for everything she’s done

- The Regina torture scene was TRAUMATIZING to middle school me

- “Is it magic?” “No… it’s science” THAT’S DR WHALE’S LINE YOU CAN’T STEAL IT GREG

- Bae fanficed himself into Peter Pan

- BAE NO

- Ugh Greg and Tamara are the worst

- NEAL NO

- Yay belle is back

- Memorable lines: “it’s delicious, cheesy and doesn’t lie” “no… it’s science” “love is weakness” “bae”

How I feel about the characters this season

Love: Rumple, August, Belle

Like: Neal, Emma, Charming, Mulan, Ruby, Archie, Dr Whale

Neutral: Hook, Snow, Aurora, everyone else in Storybrooke

Dislike: Regina, Blue

Hate: Greg, Tamara, Cora

Season rating: 5/10

I hate hate hate the whole Greg and Tamara plot, also Cora x Rumple grossed me out, but there was a lot of Rumbelle content (it was really sad though)

[offorester]

Dean Forester was an abusive boyfriend.

{{Now you see...This is a discussion that I am very passionate about because I do not feel at all that Dean Forester was an abusive boyfriend. Was he the best boyfriend? No. Was he perfect? No. But this was his first love when he fell in love with Rory. It was most likely his first real relationship. Emotions were new, feelings were high. Were there times where he shouldn't have raised his voice? Yes. Should he probably have given Rory more time with the whole "I love you" scenario? Also yes. But for a second, put yourself in Dean's shoes. You take your girlfriend out to dinner to celebrate. You tell her you've been building a car for her, you've made the night incredibly romantic. And you've been waiting to say the words "I love you." all night. So when you finally say them and are met with silence. And then hearing the words "I love the car", how are you supposed to feel? In that moment he felt rejected. So while he should have gone about it differently, it is valid to be hurt to not to have those feelings returned. To be disappointed. Rory had her reasons too and those are also very very valid. Things should have been handled differently by Dean. Don't even begin to get me started on the whole Jess situation because while Jess's end goal was Rory, he did everything that he could to get under Dean's skin in every way possible. So of course Dean is going to get mad. And he can literally see the way Rory and Jess look at each other. He knows it and he still stays around because he loves her. Tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. The more Jess shows up, the more insecure Dean becomes which makes him cling, the only thing that he feels like he can do. Maybe Dean had the mentality of "Maybe if I do more, it'll make her happy. Maybe if I fight harder, she will see how badly I want her around." so he ignored even the most big glaring red flags to try and keep his relationship. Only when he was faced with seeing it all play out repeatedly in front of him at the 24 hour dance marathon did he finally face it. And yes, he yelled at Rory in front of everyone which could have been handled better. But Rory and Jess were literally having it out right in front of everyone too, completely within earshot of the whole town so was it really that unwarranted? He was being embarrassed as much as Rory was. The one thing with Dean that I can say that does come off as abusive was his behavior with Lindsey. Because she did not deserve what was done to her. Did I really like her? No. Did I think she was the right fit for Dean based off of some of their conversations? No. But did she deserve that treatment and to be cheated on? Not at all. And Dean was wrong for cheating on her, he was wrong for yelling at her regarding her picking up his cell phone. Lindsey was doing all she could to learn to be a good wife. It just wasn't meant to be. I had to wonder maybe if Luke had said something the morning of the wedding, after the whole bachelor party incident if things might have gone differently. It wasn't Luke's responsibility obviously but I do wonder the what if's. My final peace on Dean not being an abusive boyfriend? The episode he breaks up with Rory for the final time. He didn't do it hatefully. He didn't yell at her. And it was not a malicious break up. He shows up to pick up Rory, sees her in a beautiful gown, surrounded by wealthy guys in suits and thinks: "This is the kind of life that Rory deserves. This is what she was meant to do, who she was meant to be with. I can't fulfill that role. I can't be what she needs. I didn't graduate college. I don't have a fancy job. I don't wear suits or go to parties. I'm just a bag boy at a grocery store. Rory deserves better. So I am going to do the only thing that I can do for her: take myself out of the picture." And you can TELL this breaks his heart into a million pieces as he prepares to drive off. That it is the HARDEST thing that he has ever had to do but he still does it because HE LOVES RORY THAT MUCH. What kind of abusive boyfriend would do that for the one that he loves?

[hanshikha-life]

My Prankster Brother

It was a sunny evening in the month of June. The bright light shone at my books and my pen was constantly being bitten while I brainstormed the answers of my homework questions. My mind went back and forth on the same question again and again. That’s strange. I’m generally really fast on working out my after school work, I thought. Maybe it was because I was working three times hard to be on par with ninth grade. “It was a sudden change this year”, I said to myself, “It’s the first time I went to school continuously without a summer break and maybe because of which I got a little stressed out”. As such thoughts fluttered through my head came out of nowhere my little sister. I tried my best to pay attention to her while my drowsy, dark-brown eyes couldn’t help closing. I was snoozing hard. Why had I gotten soo tired suddenly? After a good enough attempt to listen I heard two words, “upload google-classroom”. I gently took the jet black phone from her tender baby hands and uploaded her online quiz to the google classroom to be corrected. I had just glanced at the big, fat student copy as the phone rang loudly. “Buzz…buzz”. Hugh? I jerked. Now that sure woke me up from my great slumber. I took the phone from my sister again. To be exact I remember snatching it from her. Yes, I know I should have asked, but anyways. I swiped up the lock-screen and entered the password. The home page popped up in a few seconds as I scrolled down to see who was calling. Ahhh…It was my little, naughty cousin brother. I’d known him since he was two days old and we’d grown as thick as a rainforest ever since. We bonded over the physical time spent initially as kids and later bonded over the internet.

He’s been calling me since and two things happen everytime we e-meet. One, our time extends for hours together and two, we have so much fun that it becomes difficult to sleep the entire night. I always love spending time with him! However, this particular day I was skeptical about it. You see, he had been trying to reach for quite some time and everytime he did something kept coming up and I had to refuse his calls. It was studies, or games or sports or sometimes even meal times. I was making lame excuses for silly reasons because of which I was scared to pick the call up. Of Course, I didn’t mean it but I was just not able to make much time for him. This did bother me a little but I put it in the last cell of my brain. I had a lot of thoughts going on in my head when GASP I was back to reality again. There were two missed calls and I had to call back. I texted him to hold on and returned the phone to my sister. Allowing her to complete the work she was to do. I took the time and set things within myself right. Once my sister was done I stood up to myself and rang my brother. I had my mind all set to apologize incase I had to. I gripped the phone tightly and pushed it against my ears briskly. I took a deep breath and then said a small, sweet, “hello…How are you?”

A crazy voice came pounding out, “Ha..loo…Howwaa…re…yo…u”. I was astounded. When did this guy start having internet issues? It went on for ages together. At this point I gave up. How could someone living in such a big city ever be able to get so many WiFi issues. This was literally impossible. Like hearing a crackle person. “Ba..t…ha…w?”. Why was he doing this? It had been five minutes and it was still going on. Oh! Now I got it. Brothers are never hundred present in what they say. Maybe he was just acting all along. After soo much effort and million requests of teaching me how to do ‘breaking voice’ he started to become normal. Oh and by the way I wanted to know how to do that for real. It would be soo cool to do that in online school and trick all my classmates and teachers. I’ve been asking him to teach me ever since. Once he became a normal person he randomly started shouting to the core of his voice that he couldn’t hear me. He was screaming at the top of his voice. Probably the loudest time I ever heard him. To counter his screams I started texting him for another four minutes continually. I texted him in normal formal English, then shifted to informal, then texting language. I even texted in Telugu but heard no reply.

The call was still on and the milk white text on the top center showed that nine minutes had passed. I was very sure he was just acting off that he couldn’t hear me. He must be partying vividly just by the thought of me assuming that he couldn’t hear me and I was trying to reach out to him badly. Out of frustration I just cut the call and called him time and again. After he was sure he irritated me to his heart’s content because I did not pick his call up. After taking full revenge he spoke to me only at the exact time when I had to sit down for music class. So, now I had to cut the call and make a proper deal with him to e-meet up properly again.

What an amazing prank call it was! It was so much fun that day! I loved talking to him. It’s one of my favorite things to do!

In fact this blog is fully dedicated to him!!

[crazy56u]

So, Youtube and Google Play still think "Let Them Play" never aired, and my mom's SIM card straight up vanished out of her cell phone. Shit's weird all over. Luckily, Ben gets to be a lawyer this week, so there's that distraction.

[Also, to circumvent Firefox lagging out again, I wrote all of this in Notepad before dumping it into the post.]

Woah, no saga sell, we just dump straight into the episode…

Why is this courtroom so dark?

Ben is going to get this guy sent to jail, isn't he?

Look, to be fair, a $50,000 bail is better than jail.

"Okay, look, I know I'm a public defender, but we need to resolve the cliffhanger from last week?" "Ben, no we don't."

Ben has to solve all of the court cases this week, good fucking luck.

Seriously, the universe fucking sucks if Ben is getting thrown into the deep end of the pool like this. At least Sam only had one case when he was first exposed to court proceedings.

"You said it didn't matter that I didn't shoot him!" "Yeah, well, I was literally a different person yesterday."

I have every reason to believe Ian was the one to set up that bet, so they only have themselves to blame.

But, hey, on the bright side, it's only a dollar a pop.

Ah, so that's the rub: The last bunch of episodes this season all center around a member of the Project. So, that means Magic's gonna wind up in the Imaging Chamber next?

"Look, I can't do this." "I'm Ernie Hudson, Jenn, guess again."

Okay, Addison, you need to fucking let Ben know in advance when you let other people into the Chamber.

"You're a lawyer." "I've… talked to them, that counts, right?"

"Look, I've been in court numerous times, it's fun after a while."

[Also, I'm getting a sinking suspicion that the real reason Addison is passing the buck is because she's been replaced by Martinez.]

[Also, NBC's feed just had a minor seizure on my end.]

"Look, I have new evidence, my ghost friend just told me!" "Okay, sure, you didn't fucking file it, so court is adjourned."

This is like Better Call Saul, but some how more scummy.

This bald guy looks like he deals in ponzi schemes.

[So, of course his name's Saul...]

"It's impossible for one person to read all of this." "I'm literally standing right here, Ben."

I think I heard that seven minute fact once on Adam Ruins Everything.

Camilo was in the wrong place at the wrong time, much like 95% of everyone on this show.

Also, Addison got bored, and is just watching the show on the computer.

Why does this episode feel zippy tonight?

…okay, that one plot twist just blew Better Call Saul out of the water.

[T-Mobile, stop using the Scrubs guys to sell me on the service I already have, all you're doing is making me miss Scrubs.]

"Did you cancel our dinner reservations?" "What?"

"You fuck up my court case, you pay for dinner, only fair."

[By the way, I might have missed it, but did they say a date at the start of the episode?]

I love how that's the immediate smoking gun Ben has: "Did you know there's more than one entrance into a building?"

I have to imagine it took every bit of restraint that cop had to not choke him out while tackling him.

Okay, so either the cop stole that page, or that page was shredded.

"Bury evidence, just to win a case, what is this, Better Call Saul?"

"We got Marty McFly's almanac!" Jenn, did you NOT WATCH Back to the Future II?!

If Ziggy could talk, she would be prolapsing right now over Ben abusing the horse tracks.

[Why are they using the Spice Girls to hock Applebee's, what did they do to deserve that?]

"Look, Public Defender, it's your fault I decided to deal drugs! My brother could be relaxing prison for 10 years right now if not for you wanting to get him proven innocent!"

"Okay, this is the second page, I am saying this in case you forgot we made a big deal out of the second page being missing."

What if it turns out Edwin Soto's dead?

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey honey, I need to ask you about a guy…"

Why does this house look like a sitcom set?

"These four walls, they're a sanctuary. Just ignore the missing one."

"Ben, look through Vicky's papers, or Camillo goes to jail."

Yeah, she didn't hide the paper, she just took it, there's a difference.

ADA Barnes: The Real Antagonist

And Ben just ruined love.

Great, now Stuart's homeless, Ben's batting a thousand.

"Look, I don't know Edwin Soto, I can't h- wait, he's that guy?!"

That judge is hating life right now.

"Is everything in order, Counselor, you look like you just discovered tampered evidence, and if you reveal how you know that, you'll get disbarred?"

Oh God, Kentucky, a fate worse than death.

"I'm terrible at speeches. …wait, why am I being reminded of Watership Down?"

I choose to believe this isn't in the script, and she just started ranting about rabbits while the camera was rolling.

"The answer is you, Ben, you're the rabbit- wait, you're the farmer- fuck, what was the story I was telling?"

"Well, what do we know, besides the rabbit thing?"

Okay, Vicky fucking teleported, she fucking teleported into the scene, you cannot convince me otherwise.

Calling it now, Barnes is trying to protect Edwin for some bullshit reason.

"Boy, I'm a lost, if only I have a magical ghost friend who's current in 2023, with access to a supercomputer…" "…are you having a stroke?"

"What are the chances the gun is in the same place-" It's this show, Ian, the chances are pretty fucking good.

[Also, cool, at least I know it's 1985, so watch as it turns out I straight up missing them say it at the start.]

And Stuart saves the day!

Ben almost got fucked over due to someone not knowing north from south.

"Okay, I gave a speech, Ben, it's your turn."

Not to be Debbie Downer, but there's 15 minutes left, I think Leo might have a point on the gun not being enough?

"Hey, you know what it's a perfect time for? A botany lesson."

"Look, I'm gonna be nice for once, I'll make it a five-year sentence." "Look-" "Okay, cool, fuck you then, bye."

Okay, so, either a 100% chance at four years, or 50/50 he's declared innocent. Shit like this makes me glad I'm not a gambler.

[Also, it just hit me: Did Martinez leap into ADA Barnes?]

"Four years is too long." Ain't that the fucking truth… Hell, one year is too long at this point…

I love how the lighting at points makes it look like Jenn is wearing a tie.

Did anyone schedule this fucking dinner?!

Okay, seven minutes, let's do the dance.

Ben, no, don't talk about time travel, you're in trial.

And watch as the fucking jury declares him guilty anyway.

I love the implication that Addison kicked Jenn out of the Imaging Chamber.

"I just remembered Magic" is, out of context, something one should not be saying out loud in a courthouse.

Man, ADA Barnes must get off on tampering with case files…

Wait, so did Camilo get declared innocent, or what?

Okay, thank God, keep me waiting in suspense, why don't ya…

Okay, cool, happy endings all around, so, when's the other shoe dropping?

…okay, Ben leaping into a mental asylum, I count that as a shoe.

So, welcome to "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", Ben.

[How the fuck did Ben wind up in a worse mental hospital than Sam?]

Like, seriously, all Sam experienced was two electroshock treatments. In the promo alone, Ben wound up in a surgery room, got stabbed in the neck with a thing, and got shoved into a straightjacket. What the fuck?

[thisisevenharderthannamingablog]

Liveblogging notes from Ep. 4.

Evidently Porsche was still pretty drunk. Whoops! Such a pretty kiss, too. :(

Oh hey, more mirrors. Who you trying to fool today, Kinn?

Obviously smoking is terrible and no one in real life should do it, but it so useful for writers. Enter Vegas (drastically unhinged, I am aware, but his cheekbones are unreal) with a handy lighter and instructions from his father to find out more about Porsche. Porsche appears relieved that Vegas doesn't want to kill him and is ready to be charmed.

Water again. Kinn you kissed the guy once and you are jealous? Porsche is like "WTF is your problem? Until a month ago I worked in customer service okay?? Don't piss people off for no reason."

Kinn's face through this whole conversation LOL. On the one hand I find this kind of plot tedious; on the other, confused and uncertain is such a different look and honestly it serves him right.

Khun's first hangover. Poor guy really has been sheltered.

Porsche's refusal to respect the local hierarchy is very Disney princess of him. However, this is SO AWKWARD although thematically it combines the fire/water elements which is neat.

Ooh, the tattoo. Oh no it's a mom thing. :(((

Kinn why are you so competitive about stupid stuff is this your dad's fault. Also what is up with this close-enough-to-touch-but-definitely-not-touching thing. This conversation is almost normal getting to know someone? Which under the circumstances, makes it weird. Ironically.

Never mind, it is no longer normal. Kinn has never had to flirt with anyone in his whole life, huh. And yes, this is his own damn fault but at least he looks amused about it.

A view through bars is always interesting. Oh no, look who's still here. And who's keeping an eye on him (or on Porsche, they're the same picture). Vegas is telepathing "you just don't want me to have ANY fun" at Kinn. That's right, asshole, we do not.

If the West inflicted processed cheese slices on Thailand I would like to formally apologize.

Vegas you are trying to recruit Porsche right in front of all of his co-workers and Kinn? Good thing the bodyguards aren't allowed cell phones, they would all be texting each other CAN YOU BELIEVE HE JUST? OMG IK???? and excited emojis under the table. Porsche is the only one who doesn't know what Vegas is talking about, right? Everybody else has worked there a while?

You go talk to him for me and how about you drop dead could we arrange that? Thank god for Tankhun and his absolute lack of filters.

Big, you need to move on. You and your sassy haircut deserve better.

OMG Porsche don't be a snoop, I know you were orphaned young but I'm sure your parents taught you better than that. "I don't know a damn thing" may be the most honest thing you have ever said, and also congrats on finally realizing that you are literally the only straight (for the moment) man in this entire impractically large building except for possibly Korn.

OMG did Pete bat his eyelashes. He is cute.

As "I Kissed a Boy" freakouts go, that was pretty mild. Can we move on from this now please?

Finally checking in on Chay! At least he hasn't starved to death since Porsche disappeared into Mafialand.

He is improbably beautiful. Whoever contributed the other half of the Therapeenyakul genes must have been inhuman.

Chay going right for the gold ring, good for you.

Kinn back in Weird Mode, and now there is Subtext. Is this the first time since the first episode we've seen him in anything other than black/white/gray? First blue, then a little later back to red.

Porsche clearly does not know what the hell he wants at that moment, but with that whole would you want me back question it's just as clear there are wheels turning that he didn't suspect existed until quite recently.

Vegas, why are you making it obvious that someone on the staff has been gossiping with you?

Aww, look at Porsche being almost professional. You'll get there!

Kinn is likely wondering who in the room is going to try to kill him this time, but at least his friends are teasing him about Porsche. They know what's up. Seriously, it delights me when a character generally played as cool isn't isolated and opaque to everyone except their love interest. And these two are like Kinn you are so fucking predictable just go be nice to him idiot?

How many things did teenage Kinn get away with by blaming Khun?

Did Porsche just get fucking roofied. Betrayed by a fellow bartender, that hurts.

This show has a lot of scenes in bathrooms.

So as I was saying about weird competitiveness, which is clearly not one-sided. Being stupidly rich must be fun.

I like how nobody assumes Porsche is just being dumb again, we've got past that.

That went from zero to squick central in a heartbeat, yikes.

Aw. Everybody is so worried!

Wait are you saying Porsche isn't nice? Rude and untrue on two levels, but we'll forgive you a final moment of denial here. Kinn making terrible decisions. Porsche making terrible decisions right back now that his inhibitions have been deep-sixed. The occasional ticklish flinch, omg?? All the slo-mo? Porsche clinging onto him for dear life? Problematic and hot, thanks, show. Hope Porsche at least remembers this in the morning!

Speaking of problematic, once again: yikes.

I have to say that despite the occasionally frequently bonkers material they're working with, the acting in this is solid.

[rennyji]

someones overcompensating for something...

Updated 2:50 AM 3/7/2024 with starred section, noted as point #2, in connection with point #1 that was present at time of original posting.

Since I was 18, and now at 36, I ran into two retards of employers.

One was way back, when I was seeking a part time job at my 2nd University. It was as a Technical Assistant. Part of the job entitled me to my own, and rather large at that, cubicle. The guy I was helping would tell me things that hint at parts of his psyche. He would start off with random comments like "one day you'll be my boss"-sounds innocent enough. But it is the root of something leading to bitterness. Before working for him, I had a real Computer Consultant job for 2 years. In that, from experience, I learned when uninstalling an antivirus, it helps to use the vendor's uninstall tool, like Ex. the Norton Removal Tool. The reason you use that vs. the Control Panel on a Windows Machine, is to avoid the risk of network connectivity problems as it screws with aspects of software like "Drivers." When I would do these things or explain why it might be better? This guy didn't like it. He saw me as someone to put his mail in a mailbox, literally. I somehow offended his ego, by making a suggestion. On another occasion, I'm following him upstairs, and I ask him, a question on how to go about something. He snaps at me saying, "what does that matter." On another occasion, I told him the phone in my cubicle wasn't working. He responds "why do you need a phone?!" Well, to talk to clients, in a tech center basement, where no one had cell signal. I'm sure that can be easily verified in the present day by visiting the location. When he gave me assignments or dumped me on someone else in his absence, my memories can verify I spent 6 hours in a part time job, setting up 10 new desktop machines for use by employees. I'd spend after-hours, of my own volition, updating machines, fixing machines, fixing printers, when I had my educational program to worry about, or classes. There were instances, where he gave me spreadsheets to skim through and correct and verify. With my "Vyvanse" ADD amphetamine level focus at the time, I zoomed through it. He then yells at me and accuses me of lying about doing the job. Against my volition, maybe because the mind control was happening, I burst into tears. I was, already under the impression, that life was rough to me. And this guy and his nasty attitude? I just couldn't help but wonder, how is this all happening to me. Now, I have some idea. There's a situation hacking my tech and my mind, and elements of my environment.

So let's add all this up: 1.the guy I was an assistant to? He's a low end employee who worries I'll be his boss one day. 2.He doesn't like my suggestions. 3. He doesn't like, how I, a student, have a cubicle, that he has, as a regular employee. 4. He doesn't like being asked questions, by what he sees as his bearded student assistant. Wasn't 17 at time. Was 21. Joined school as an adult, not a teenager. 5. I'm to drop off his mail. 6. He doesn't think I'm worthy of a working phone that's already in the cubicle. What does this sound like to you, the reader? Doesn't it seem like he's bitter that I, a student, have the same amenities or knowledge, that he as an adult, only recently gained?

Apparently if I'm not slow with a computing task like him, and did it fast, it means I lied about doing the work.

Did he check the work? Rather, the retard just lashes out at me. Eventually, I walked out on the job. And when I did, I kept bumping into him on campus. He would give me menacing looks. I complained to our old boss that he was doing this, as well as telling people we worked with, that I'm terrible. I told our female boss: he was scaring me like someone who was mentally ill or a shizophrenic. From that moment onwards, he behaved when seeing me.

*** Check my memories. Verify with your wireless fMRI emotion checker if I'm expressing anxiety over possibly lying. *** And what does the staff at that retard state university do? They paint me as a shizo and subject me to the treatments of a shizo, while doing mind reading. This guy I worked for, must be having the time of his life at my expense. Warped injustice. With that job, like all my jobs, I spend, late into the day, trying to get things done early. When I was at Bank of America, I went to the city location on Saturday's to learn the software and programming language. The expert of the time told me: automating graphs via emails wasn't possible. Yet I managed to do it, with an outdated module of the Python Programming Language called OpenPyxl, and my efforts were ignored. For reference, it was the "Complex KE Analysis Report. "

At Bank of America, I bought everyone brownies, there was a guy who'd eat my lunches, and there was a woman who I'd ride the train with, who had me help her with her shopping before work (carrying bags as though husband) and borrowing unreturned money.

The abuse I take. I tippy toe around everyone while the youth voices of the mind reading situation claim "they're in some unknown way, helping me."

*** What really ends up happening? Everyone just walks all over me, or takes advantage of my politeness.

*** On one occasion, kind of like talking to my mother at times, I was trying to verify the requirements of a tech request, made of me, by the woman I rode the train with everyday. She started getting frustrated her explanation of the request. She goes, "I dont understand why you're like this, why are you not getting what I'm saying?" By the book, I suggested to her, "hey, it's kind of getting heated, maybe we should ask "JOE", over there, to help us clarify things." And this is a woman I rode the train with, someone who drove me to my house, once, after a company movie. She took my suggestion offensively, like I was trying to embarrass her, or get her in trouble with our peers. WTF? I mean...The random reactions of people. In our friendship, I shopped with her, carried her bags, lent her $1 here and there, and she somehow thinks I'm trying to embarrass her by not understanding her description and suggesting someone else clarifies.

My efforts, my work, never have value.

The cherry on top, the icing on the cake is my fifth year working at PepsiCo.

When I worked at PepsiCo, I worked 4 years as a Data Analyst. They went by, without a problem. I got average, but never negative performance reviews. I'm a programmer, not a Data Analyst. I hate analyzing data, though I can be analytical. That being said, This is the second incident I was talking about, I mentioned at the top of this post. By the time of my fifth year there, I transitioned to a Senior role. From Data Analyst, I promoted to Senior Data Steward What do they say about jobs? Take initiative. The new division I worked in, was a new division called Data Governance. I was the Senior Data Steward. My manager was also new. He came from GE (General Electric) managing fridges or something. He comes to PepsiCo, and becomes the manager of Data Governance, despite having no technical aptitude. If that a*s hole is reading this now, look at the SKU mapping project that I sent in my email, which I based, for correcting inappropriate content on social media, in another tweet/and Tumblr blog post. This flowery talking philosophical manager thought he was sooo savvy with Microsoft Excel and that's all it took to analyze Data. He's not the worker, but the manager. He uses up everyone's team in the meeting, selfishly asking his own questions, while stopping others doing the tasks, from gaining an understanding. When asked about this, he claims "he was guiding the conversation." WOW. THE ARROGANCE. Why no one speaks up about these things at work? They're worried, with grocery prices up, inflation, shrink inflation, that they'll lose their jobs for speaking up. I'm not destitute and I'm not stupid, so forgive me for trying to tell HR about this. When anyone else leaves early from no work, he doesn't care. He deliberately excludes me from meetings and avoids giving work to me, while I have rats in my brains seizing idle moments to pester me with chatter. If I sit there blankly staring at my laptop, I lose my mind. I eventually walk out, and this genius thinks I don't notice him sending the adjacent unrelated manager walk by me, to patrol me. I mean wow, like being demeaning to a child. Then for taking initiative one day, and asking this other manager, if there's anything I could do to assist his team for work, my retard manager gets on my case for embarrassing him, because usually that guy's team members come to him for work. The ridiculous twists and turns.

With this retard manager, especially in the beginning, we were always behind deadlines and then he proposes, 2 of many strange instances.

1. The team doesn't know what a promotional pricing table means. Retard manager decides to have everyone spend 5 hours guessing what the price means, instead of reaching out to someone and asking a question. Memory serves as truth wise guy, if you're acting like I'm lying. I'm constantly subjected to an fMRI verifying lies through emotion. And we ended up still being behind on the project and obviously wrong about the data from stupid guessing. This delays other potential tasks and workers end up having to work after hours or before.

I mean seriously, let's just waste everyone's time.

*****************************************************************

Updated 2:50 AM 3/7/2024

2. Then there was an occasion where the retard of a manager asked me to create a training document on how to create templates for a particular Microsoft Excel spreadsheet. He tells me to have it done by Friday 9 AM. Part of it took understanding and fixing my predecessor's broken, unCompilable Code. As it was written in the Python Programming Language using Juniper Notebooks, I needed the paid version of PyCharm, an IDE program for writing/compiling computer code. Out of my own pocket I paid for the program without compensation, as PepsiCo doesn't compensate employees for attending meetings before 8 or 9 AM (when work officially starts, or when they stay after, because your d*k of a manager wasted 5 hours guessing on something to evade: "oh heavens me, let me/thou not" trouble them with my question. SIDENOTE: And on a sidetone, who does the retard Somers?! manager favor. The epitome of kiss a*ses. This guy doesn't shut up over intentionally rambling, to give a conversation flow to the manager. The idiot manager looks to be entertained by superfluous wording, to make him feel smart. This other Connecticut retard, who I lied to about making significantly higher salary, when he was doing the same job, asks me to kiss up to the manager, "Renny, I'm appalled you would think there's nothing assigned to us." Appalled? Really. Speak to someone else making $20,000 more than you. Then there's this contractor. Never says actually anything. Speaks in expressions or colloquialisms. He decides to take on initiative of teaching me programming? This guy? An underpaid contractor? I appreciate the sentiment, but what is telling these guys that I'm computer illiterate. Do you have any idea how many times I went through college, classes within college, and bootcamps domestically and internationally?! Even the good employee, my predecessor, who transferred to Accenture, that the manager bad mouths for leaving for his career, when I comment on his code, he says "Good job Renny. Wow. Good for you!" We're about the same age and he talks to me like I'm 5 and didn't go to school. It's like PepsiCo is a land of people open to every suggestion, except what's before them. Excluding the Accenture guy (probably honest mistake), with the others, it's like being among deaf/dumb/blind people who feel I need crutches and need help walking. WTF?! Over time, it gets repetitive and annoying, but still you put up with it. But! when you put up with it, retards like the manager keep doing what they do, and literally draw pictures for you, every week, like you're missing half your brain. Scan my brain/scan my memories for verification. It's Sesame Street for this guy. Hey guys! What's the letter of the day?! Can I draw it on a white board?! END SIDENOTE

But back to point #2.

So I fix my predecessors broken code with a try/catch exception error handling clause in the program, within IDE: PyCharm. I go through videos of how things were done-3 hr long videos, repetitively 2 not miss a detail. I make screenshots of videos and other materials for that documentation. I'm up until 3 AM fixing this up. Go to bed late, wake up by 9 AM for work, and what do I find? The manager, for some bizarre reason, decided to take "colloquialism guy" and a woman in Texas (an hour behind EST), to also stay up till late in the night, working on a separate documentation. This is one of many wild goose chases the retard manager sends me on. He could have had those people help me put "MY documentation" together. But instead, without telling me, he decides, for his creditHungryHunger, to work on something separately with teammates without me, making my documentation pointless. You must be seeing me on my main floor-common area-tv room-desk working till 3 AM. And the annoying thing? I saw retard/mr colloquialisms/and the Texas star on Zoom, with active status, at 11 PM. If they were going to do it themselves, why'd they have me work on a separate documentation? Isn't that the definition of a wild goose chase? When I ask the manager about this and tell HR? He says he didn't get a sense I would finish on time, so without telling me to stop my efforts, he decides to work with 2 teammates to have them do it. WTF? Or did the mind stalkers tell the manager, behind my back that I'm preoccupied and need more time to finish the task? There's help and there's help...showcase my memories...please...I hate that guy, because when I asked him about it, he screwed with my head, and said none of it happened. Workplace psychological harassment much?! All this is in emails PepsiCo tried to delete, whether it was to the manager or HR. Then without giving me work, they say I didn't do any work. Really for a year, no work? What does that say about the manager who we know is retarded? He didn't care to notice? He was so busy managing a team of 10 for a year? Before I left that horrid food/beverage place that is Purchase PepsiCo, I sent them all the files they assigned to me to work on. I wonder how the retards and the crying woman are going to explain that, at the END of MY SITUATION. I guess they're seeing it as getting a few good years at my expense.

Updated 2:50 AM 3/7/2024

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I use formulas in Excel the retard manager could never wrap his feeble/ arrogant mind around. Look at my skuMapping file, d*p sh*t. Did you give guidance on how to go about it? You toss 3 files at 3 people with over a thousand lines, and then tell them to find similarities that points to a SKU number. Can you be more vague?! This guy without experience, is telling ME, with 4 years of Data Analysis experience, not to automate Data Manipulation. And How hard it was to automate it, without having a clear set of instructions to go about automating. Data Analysis is all about automation, genius. In the beginning, I worked with him on a project late into Friday evening, creating a database that automated a report by combining SQL, math formulas, Microsoft Access and Microsoft Excel. He slips in and out of an all day Zoom meeting, and gets a beer in the background, or listens to Nascar racing news on the radio, and pops back in on Zoom, to see where I am with the automation. This guy knows nothing/does nothing. It got to a point where he told people on our team: no automation. Scan through 1000+ rows with your eyes in Microsoft Excel. I'm a programmer. When I suggest ideas to the white programmer of his choice, he tells me to stop giving him ideas, and me alone,. At the time, he was so clueless and fresh with data analysis, he had these one to ones with me, where he's trying to explain certain ideas to me, like the philosophy behind the term Data Discovery, when I'm dealing with Data Structures and Algorithms. And then the retard goes on to drawing boxes on a white board. He thinks he can explain programming to me by drawing boxes with arrows in between. Deep inside, I"m thinking this guy is retarded. Then, when he gets anxious, he starts mentioning random things like "I have a daughter and she's reading on PepsiCo campus grounds." I'm sorry, why do I care?! I'm guessing it has something to do with the mind reading situation intervening, and saying I wish I had my own daughter. More and more employees get hired onto the team. When I enter work, he holds meetings and never invites me. How can you make that plausible to another listening ear? He then keeps dumping me on different people for "beneath me" projects. Everyone else is attending meetings all day, using data manipulating tools, and he has me paired with a manager in Britain, who's planning on leaving in 3-4 months. He wants me to learn how to write definitions. Now this retard is trying to get rid of me, by dumping me on someone else, so that I, me, can learn to write. Months go by, where I'm checking boxes on a reporting tool called Alation. That's what he does. Every so often, he gives me busy work. I went from database programming to learning tutorials on how to use Alation. I asked him if it was wise, because it was going to be replaced with the Informatics suite of tools in 2 weeks. He says: still do it. After I learned the obsolete tool of Alation, he has me attend tutorials for Informatics. At this was 2023, and now it's 2024, this retard of a manager has gotten his feet wet with Data Analysis. But back then, clueless. He thinks his limited skillset with Microsoft Excel makes him comparable to someone with a tech degree.

He attended Pace University for Finance or something or Accounting, gets some work experience from GE, and becomes a manager for technology at PepsiCo. If this retard can make it this far, I have to assume that some demon is blocking my path. A non tech guy becomes a tech manager. I have an MBA in technology, which he doesn't, and probably just a Bachelors in something Business related. I have a B.S. degree in Computer Science. I"m still having trouble finding manager positions. The odd twists of fate. But anyway, the point was, he keeps giving me busy work. When there was no busy work, not being included in meetings continued. He wasn't assigning work to anyone, especially me. In one of my initial emails, as this is another extremely random instance, I suggested to him, can we speak with HR. Like the woman at Bank of America, they turn the blame on me. At HR meetings, the manager isn't acknowledging that he isn't giving me work, or including me in meetings. He explains to an HR manager, my age, about the day to day dealings he faces as a manager. It's like he wants "someone else" to hear how PepsiCo works, in the same way Doctors give speeches on how they run their practices. Who are they talking to and how is it relevant to me. But the manager? He isn't acknowledging my problem, my complaint, the reason we're in this setting, which is never including me in team meetings or giving me defined assignments. Then in my last meeting with HR, I bluntly said in "disbelief", "I don't know what's happening here, I'm feeling uncomfortable. "I walk out from the work location early, because I have nothing to do and I felt uncomfortable. My manager hinted at not giving me work to the HR manager, by calling it "working w/ambiguity". It's an actual thing at PepsiCo. "Working with ambigutiy." The managers skim by, talking about how we handle ambiguity or no explicit work, in our performance reviews. You want to know what's more of a mind f*k? I get a call from the HR Manager's Senior HR manager. Somehow someway, she says "I, a pro-woman guy, who's depicted as wanting to have a daughter, that I, made the HR manager cry. Donald Trump allegedly has affairs and grabs female body parts. No reports of women crying. In spite of allegations, women and families and children flock to him. Regardless of what that is, *****************************************************

UPDATED 3/7/24 2:50 AM Yet despite all that, I somehow magically made the HR manager cry. Have you heard of anything more ridiculous. Who cries at work? I don't think people who were romantically abused at work, cry. But apparently, by being silent, I made HR cry. I ensured this was said in exchanges in text messages and back and forth emails. WOW. I made the HR manager, a MANAGER, cry! Was it something I said? Was it F* you? (3/7/24 midnite till 3 AM - Was it anything like this retard harassing me through eBay messages, that something is probably getting him to do,while I write this, to negate my case? Pathetic. That tool aside, )regarding this HR manager? Was it F* u? Screw you? Your boy friend sucks? What could I possibly have said to make her cry? Was she sympathizing with my confusion over the retard manager lying? Was it tears of empathy?-If that's what it was, why was it brought up. The eBay retard I'm duking it out with, is right: Huhhh, no one cares about me. If I had someone to stand by my side in this SITUATION, PepsiCo wouldn't have taken advantage of me. (3/7/24 2:43 AM, This tool messages me on eBay again. so determined, this underprivileged character trying to get meaning from demons enslaving a man. Wait for the surprise, friend, wait for the surprise. Realizing I'm not responding after my screenshots indicating his wrongdoing, I think he started off again at 2:45 AM. He apparently is delusional and thinks I'm in the military and that I need to get off my high horse and no one cares I served my country. Where is this coming from? Absolute retards. Hope Trump deports him. From fishing for some info, I found out that the mind stalkers are telling people I like to pretend I'm older than I am, in their agenda to make me accessible to American teens...again signs of a demographic from his text...yeah Nighty Nigiht Young Man.)

But back to the retard manager? He goes and tells the staff, that I wasn't coming to work on time, as my mom's Church friend was on the team I was in, and he tells her this, and then my mom gets on my case, saying I don't know how to talk to people.

UPDATED 3/7/24 2:50 AM

**********************************************

If my memories can be seen, this can all be verified. If my thoughts are constantly read, this can be verified. Who would be so stupid to put me through that experience in my fifth year at PepsiCo with this retard manager? I'm an involuntary lie detector. Was this not known at that time? I intend to get my justice with the worst company of PepsiCo (Coca Cola tastes infinitely better, you spin offs trying to compensate for taste by connecting with celebrities), with the police and military and whoever, is doing this to me, to expose them.

I mean wow, what a retard of a manager. And here's another thing that memories can verify. My first day there, a guy who transitioned to the company Accenture, who did all the work when there wasn't a team full of people? My manager tells me, and another employee, "who needs Him. Let him get lost." This is average height, balding guy, with glasses, who I think drives a Lexus. If he talked about someone that established, to his coworkers, behind his back, I can only imagine how he talks about me.

In the tech sector, Agile training/Scrum training, project planning is something important. Many times, I mentioned to the food and beverage company, that is PepsiCo, and its retard manager that it isn't right to include everyone in the training, and not me. Did they not include me in this essential thing for career growth, because the mind readers would be talking in the background? Was that why I was never included in meetings? Was that why they said I made a manager from HR cry? Who would be so stupid to make Human Resources cry? Me? Is it because they don't want the distraction of somehow hearing, magically, my potential thoughts?

Then the other thing, when this guy assigned me to busy work, as stated earlier, while other people were talking to vendors and other teams abroad, I sometimes needed to talk to people to get information. My manager forbade me from contacting team members. On another occasion, I arrange a meeting to clear my questions with some of my other teammates on Zoom. It's freakin' Zoom. He joins the Zoom call, commandeers the session, muting me, while he clears his doubts. I end up looking like a retard after initiating and organizing the meeting.

He forbids me from contacting other team members, he has me recall emails, where I list helpful computer or Excel code, to speed up tasks. He pesters me on Zoom, until I recall the email through Outlook. You'd think I said something offensive to recall an email. All I did was say "he guys, you might find this helpful..." Apparently I was confusing everyone with unnecessary emails. Apparently, I, the guy who's writing all this, does have specific enough subject headers in emails...WOW...manager might be shaking his retard head right now. There's proof buddy. And that other retard in Europe that you hired under you, thinks he has the smartest questions. You think you're more analytical than me? Speak proper English first.

You want to know something even crazier? After HR accused me of making this wart faced retard of a manager cry, they cut off access to my PepsiCo user account to prevent me from saving ZOOM messages and emails in Outlook. If I'm sounding mean, she could've told the truth. In the meeting and as I exited the building, I bumped into her twice. Didn't see tears. But you know what PepsiCo, you Food/Beverage retards, without tech knowledge? Before I gave back the laptop, I reimaged it. Before I reimaged the machine, I cloned the hard drive, with the Linux Live CD, Clonezilla. Hey retard manager, you know what a LIVE CD is? It's what I'll be presenting in court to show the email exchanges and ZOOM IM's and your attempt to delete and hide them. It'll be fun. And then there's my memories. I mean wow. There's literally a mental record and downloadable visual archive of memories. If I'm at fault, why is it that in my first four years there, working under a seasoned manager, I was never seen poorly. But stupid HR under Data Governance? In my fifth year with a new manager, you don't look at context, don't question if its the retard manager. Of all the nasty things...I made HR cry? Why didn't I see it? Why wasn't she showing sorrow in front of me and the manager. WOW. But between 18 and 36, this was second disaster. I guess it could be worse in the duration of 18 years.

The things I have to deal with. It's gotta be on purpose. Constantly have me say stupid things like I'm being hacked, I'm being mind read, mind controlled, my manager never gives me work/never includes me in Zoom meetings (probably because someone's relaying my potential thoughts), and next random thing to explain to someone: I made HR cry. Who with half a brain would threaten an HR manager? My SITUATION is cruel. I need health insurance to survive this. Why aren't the orchestrators of my situation, careful enough, not to do things that get in the way of that? It's like, along these 16 years, they, who don't know me, never seen me, never heard me, just want me to drop dead. Depicting me naked literally/figuratively, showcasing me as a loser, choking me with wireless brain wave initiated sleep paralysis...WTF?!

If the bigger retards hosting this situation genuinely want to help me, then please expose my memories of my family, school staff, troublesome work staff...you have my permission and blessing...maybe its poetic justice...these people thought no one was watching, and now something with demon or god like powers can see it all...

[na-ta-sh-aa]

I’m giggling, kicking my feet in the air, screaming into my pillow, twirling my hair and blushing!! I just finished reading it and it was so amazing!! You managed to make me fall in love with Bradley even more! Starting from the fact that I love airports and planes and stories set in these environments always fascinate me. I really liked the way you structured the story, I thought the way you used messages was brilliant. From the beginning, Katie's character fascinated me, then as the story continued I loved her even more. Their friendship is something truly wonderful. The fact that they have known each other for so long and that their friendship has withstood the distance I think is really beautiful and also something that can only happen with true friends!

“Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.”

I liked the way you wrote this part. You made her feelings very real. Sometimes it happens that if you are at home alone maybe you don't think about it but when you witness the love of two people you wonder when it will be your turn and if it will ever happen. What made me most sad was the fact that she couldn't actually tell Katie what was on her mind to avoid seeming jealous. Although I think Katie would somehow understand that she is not jealous of her at all and would understand her pain. Like I said before Katie was amazing, I loved how when she moved to San Diego she told her she was going to meet a naval aviator. Let's say she predicted the future well!

Her arrival at the airport was very chaotic. But luckily after a thousand runs and unexpected events she arrived at her gate on time!

“Any cuties to share that mimosa with???”

I think more and more that Katie has the power to predict things!

The moment she sees Bradley for the first time was so amazing! The way you described his appearance, the reaction of her who couldn't take her eyes off him (for obvious reasons) the way she kept looking at him secretly, ooh I loved it!

“You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.”

I loved this piece.😂

“you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.”

The care you put into describing his mustache, oh my God it literally took my breath away, magnificent!🫠

“Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!”

She wins the best friend award hands down!

I loved how, thanks to her little bit of bad luck, her boarding pass slipped out of her hands and Bradley was right behind her ready to help!! In the end, bad luck isn't always a bad thing, at least in this case! It was beautiful how they started talking very naturally. Even though she was a little nervous, Bradley was very kind to continue the conversation, despite the man behind them who was in a hurry.

“Here, let me help you with that,”

What a gentleman!

I found it wonderful that they had seats facing each other, it was fate! Thank goodness that Katie convinced her to continue talking to him and that she had the courage to do so! the idea of ​​the note is brilliant and sweet at the same time.

“A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach at their first touch!

“If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.”

He is always so kind and ironic, he is literally perfect!🥹

“At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.”

AHHHH. I liked their conversation through messages a lot.

“If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.”

😂

“Let me take care of this for you”

The fact that Bradley had already gotten into the habit of helping her warmed my heart. Even if they had only known each other for a few hours it had always been a very normal gesture for him!

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,”

He's too perfect, where can I find a man like him?😭

“I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,”

Aww the way they opened up to each other and how they both were able to understand their pain😭

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

The way he realized that something was bothering her and how he immediately tried to distract her made me melt, was so beautiful!

“his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.”

I literally had to put a pillow in front of my face to hide the screaming and giggling, I love it! Him taking her hand and singing Great balls of fire to help her distract herself, can there be anything sweeter?

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,”

🫠🫠

I felt so sorry for her when she told what happened with Andrew, but he absolutely didn't deserve her. And she met Bradley, so I think it was a win!

“you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.”

I know what it would be like, the most beautiful dream!💌

The fact that she told Katie about Bradley and Bradley did the same to Mav was too cute. They both liked each other from the beginning!

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” “Promise”

Awww🥹🫶🏼

It was so wonderful, I enjoyed reading it. The sweetness of this piece warmed my heart and also made me think that perhaps it is true that the right person arrives just when you least expect it! I loved the atmosphere you created, the dialogues, the characters, the more ironic parts, the slightly sadder ones and the sweeter ones! You wrote it perfectly to make me feel all their emotions! I loved everything.🥹💞🫧

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

[cascadedkiwi]

Those Shows You Love to Yell At [Comfortember 2023]

Characters: Sero Hanta x Black Female OC (Hitomi), Kirishima Eijiro, Mina Ashido Manga/Anime: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Genre: Comfort (more fluff, I think) Summary: Sero and his missus are enjoying a night in - with wifey yelling at bad relationships on television. So are Kiri and Mina. Word Count: 476

Prompt 11. Comfort Show/Movie

“Girl, that is embarrassing! Stop crying over him! He's not worth it!”

Hanta laughs as he watches his wife yell at the poor woman on their TV screen. 

Hitomi turns to him, waving her hand up and down. “Hanta, be real. Would you have married me if I threw a tantrum for a ring like that?! Where is her self-respect?”

He bites his lip to keep his automatic response down, reaching for his drink.

She claps as she goes on. “She is literally bawling over this man who clearly does. not. Want. Her.” Hitomi looks incredulous. “Am I wrong? Hanta, you may have spoiled my standards for men. Hold on, let me call Mina.”

Hanta chuckles into his cup as she whips out her phone. 

Mina picked on the second ring.

“Mina, you're on speaker,” Hitomi prefaces before going in. “Kiri is the nicest man on earth, is he not?”

“Undeniably,” Mina answers in a nodding tone.

“Did he bring up marriage first or you?”

“I did.”

Hitomi nods. “Ok. Now. If you had cried and screamed for a ring, would he have given it to you.”

Mina gasps sharply. “You're watching this stupidness, too?! This woman is shameful!”

Hanta hides his laughter as the women go back and forth, looking down as his cell phone vibrates under his thigh. A swipe unlocks the screen to reveal a text from “Red Riot Hood”:

“The guy really is unmanly, though… should’ve just turned her down from the beginning.”

Hanta replies with a laughing emoji:

“For sure, but that doesn't make for good TV, apparently. Manly men don't keep our wives watching and yelling at the screen every weekend.”

Red: “This is true.” With a popcorn emoji.

Hanta looks over at Hitomi, still animatedly going on with Mina - now about a different couple on the screen. This time an older man is receiving her ire. "Sir. Sir. You deserve better than this. She is using you! Listen to your sister and escape with what's left of your dignity!"

He texts: “Double binge-watching date next week?”

Red: “Totally! The girls would love it. Your place or ours?”

“Ours. ‘Tomi’s working late so I can set up everything and surprise her.”

Red: “Solid. We'll bring food.”

Hanta ends that conversation with a thumbs up emoji, looking over at his wife.

Hitomi is now settled down against the corner of the couch with her legs folded under her, phone settled on the arm of the chair as she compliments a couples’ hairstyles, nodding at Mina's commentary. 

He puts his phone away before flopping on his side, laying his head in her lap.

Hitomi barely glances down before she has a hand on his head, carding through the black strands at a leisurely pace. 

He closes his eyes, drifting off to her softening conversation. This was his last episode for the night.