#i’m the pacific one but c’mon

[cursedvida]

Honestly, ever since the new Planet of the Apes movies came out, people have been shipping apes x humans in pure self-inserts. I've seen dozens of fanfics shipping any of the characters x human!reader since I started watching the movies in 2016, so I don't know why people who have been in this fandom for years are surprised that people ship Noa with Mae. I mean, seriously? Have you been living under a cyber-rock or something? This isn't new, it's been happening for over a decade, it's just now being done with a canon human character, with plenty of hints to boot. Those of you acting surprised or scandalized either just arrived at the party or have conveniently ignored reality for years.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

if i knew it all then, would i do it again? (b.r.b.)

a/n: this is simply an AU that i've been toying around with for a few months. s/o to @struggling-with-delia for letting me write a whole literary analysis for so that i could get my thoughts straight about this. i don't know if i'll write more to this AU but i would love to hear everyone's thoughts :)

summary: What would have happened if Rebel had left the Navy after her accident?

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol, surprisingly no MavDad? Ice lives because this is an AU and what i say goes

word count: 3.9k

“they called me weak, like i’m not just somebody’s daughter” 

He hovers, listening in to a conversation he has no right to. It feels like an invasion of your privacy, listening in like this, in all the worst ways. How the hell is he ever supposed to build a friendship with you if he can’t even get himself to walk away?

“I can’t do this anymore Ice.” You say quietly, his ears straining to even hear the words. 

“Kid-” The admiral is confused, but hidden under his confusion is concern. You don’t give him a chance to give life to that concern, cutting him off. 

“I’m done, Ice. I’m out.”

-

The noise and laughter in the bar must be heard from miles away. The bar is buzzing with customers, all celebrating the miraculous survival of the pilots. Maverick’s planted at the bar, chatting with Penny, Ice keeping a firm hand on his friend’s back. 

The pilots in question have stationed themselves at the pool table, chatting and playing and enjoying the hell out of themselves. 

The drinks have been flowing, the conversation steady, and none of the Daggers can say they’ve felt this at ease in weeks. 

With a month of leave awaiting them, how could they feel any less?

“C’mon, man. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard the rumors about her.” Payback says with a nudge of Omaha’s shoulder. “She was legendary.” 

Omaha shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer bottle. “No, tell me.” 

“The story goes, that there was this incredible pilot, who accomplished the likes of Maverick, by the callsign of Rebel.” 

Coyote perks his head at Payback’s words. 

“But then one day, her and her wingman went down in a highly classified accident over some ocean the Navy wasn’t even supposed to be in. By some miracle, her and her wingman walked away safe and sound. But no one ever saw her again, after that day. No one knows where she is or if she’s dead or alive.”

“She just… disappeared.” Fanboy finished with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve never bought that story.” Phoenix says with a shake of her head as she passes the pool cue to Bob. “It’s gotta be bullshit.” 

“I’m with Phoenix. It’s not possible.” Halo pipes up from her seat.

Payback nods, mulling over their words. “That’s always the part that gets me. How does a pilot of that caliber and legend just disappear?” 

“Well, when your godfather is the Commander of the Pacific Fleet, pretty easily actually.”

All heads at the pool table turn to see a girl standing just over Fanboy and Payback’s shoulders. She’s adorned in jeans and a tight black top, a leather jacket covering her shoulders. The jacket has patches sewn into the material, not unlike something the group suspects Maverick wears around town on his bike. Her hands are shoved in her jacket, surveying the group. 

“Ain’t no fucking way.” Hangman mutters.

-

The table is silent for a minute before the mustached-man clears his throat. “Rebel.”

Your eyes flicker over to him, looking him up and down. 

“Rooster.” 

Your tone is cool, gaze already moving away from him. 

“There’s no way in hell.” The blond says, eyes swinging between you and your old friend. “No way.” 

Lieutenant Seresin. Callsign Hangman. He brought your Dad home.

Your brain catalogs the pilots as you look around, picking up on clues and pieces on who is who from the stories and profiles Mav and Ice have told you about. 

“She’s real?” One of them says, mouth gaping open. He turns to the taller pilot standing next to him. “Man, I thought that story was made up!” 

Lieutenant Garcia. Callsign Fanboy. 

“Guess not.” The other pilot mutters. 

Lieutenant Fitch. Callsign Payback. 

“I thought that was just a rumor.” Another pilot says, glancing at the female next to him. 

Lieutenant Floyd. Callsign Bob.

“Well, the rumor seems to know Bradshaw.” The girl says with a sharp tone, cutting Bradley with a look that would make even the strongest man whimper. 

Lieutenant Trace. Callsign Phoenix. 

Bradley doesn’t even spare her a glance, unable to tear his gaze away from you. 

“What’s your name?” Bob calls, standing up from his seat. He leans over the pool table, offering you his hand. You take it with a sigh, offering him a small smile as you introduce yourself. 

“Callsign Rebel.” Coyote mutters, finally meeting your gaze. 

“Now don’t tell me the two of you know each other.” Hangman says incredulously, placing his hands on his hips. You let out a little laugh, shaking your head as you let go of Bob’s hand. You step back, putting your hands back in your pockets. 

“Please, don’t call me that. That part of me is dead and long gone.” 

Hangman smacks Coyote’s shoulder, clearly looking for an answer. Coyote sighs. 

“I’m the other part of the legend, her wingman who went down with her that day. The story’s true, what happened. Even more true, that no one ever saw or heard from her again. Even me.” 

You swallow, shoulders heavy with the weight of it all. This is the closest you’d come to Navy personnel outside of your Dad and uncles in almost two years. 

Everything suddenly felt terrifying and too much all at once. 

“How you doing, Coyote?” 

He eyes you. “Been better.” 

You clear your throat, suddenly wishing you were back at the bar with Ice and your Dad. You desperately wished Slider’s plane had landed in time for him to have come over to the pool table with you. You wished you were at home, in bed and under the covers, away from the flashbacks and the reek of burning metal-

“I just wanted to-” You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “I just wanted to come meet the pilots that have captured my Dad’s attention so wholly.” 

“You knew Cyclone’s daughter?” Hangman demands, eyes swinging back to Coyote. 

You raise an eyebrow. “‘M wearing a leather jacket and you think I’m related to Cyclone? Try again.” 

“Pops doesn’t have a kid.” The blond says with disbelief. 

You nod. “He does. Just me though. You’re Lieutenant Seresin, right? You’re the reason my Dad is home. Thank you for that.” 

“You know who I am?” He asks, disbelief still coloring his tone. 

Of course, of course, you knew Jake. How could you not?

Lieutenant Seresin, who had an ego bigger than the Navy’s yearly budget. 

Hangman, who’d egged Rooster into nearly giving him a black eye. 

Jake, who’d brought them home. 

“Of course I do. I know who all are. My godfather didn’t take picking you all for this mission lightly, you know.” 

“Can’t believe you never said anything.” Coyote mutters. 

“Why?” You challenge, reaching your arms out to lean on the pool table. “You and I were never that particularly close. In fact, I distinctly remember you telling me to shut the fuck up on my first day.” 

Coyote lets out a breath through gritted teeth. “That’s not-”

“Fair? Yeah, neither was the way your old squadron treated me. Don’t talk to me about fair Machado.” You let out a breath, trying to calm your quickly rising anger. “I should get back to my Dad, make sure he’s not hiding any secret injuries. I just wanted to come meet you all, but maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t.” 

You turn, slipping into the crowd before one of the pilots can say another word to you.

-

“Are we gonna ever see your daughter again, Pops?” Hangman asks, toying with one of the model planes.

He lets out a little laugh, shaking his head. “She came and said hi the other night?” 

“Something like that.” Phoenix responds. 

“Did you know?” Bradley asks. “That she was Coyote’s wingman?” 

He sighs, sitting down on the couch in the hanger. “I did.” He says slowly. Coyote glances up at him. “But she wasn’t the one to tell me.” He rubs his hands together as he thinks over his words. “And she’s made it explicitly clear that her life and my career are to remain separate. And that includes any and all things to do with you kids. So to be honest with you Hangman, probably not.” 

“What happened?” Jake says, still fiddling with the toy. “Why did she just leave? Why’d she make the comment about your old squadron?” He asks, turning to Coyote as the last question leaves his mouth. 

Coyote scrunches his nose before tilting his head and looking at Hangman. “They weren’t very nice to her.” 

“Sounded like you weren’t very nice to her.” Payback says, rejoining the group with another round of beers from the kitchen. 

Coyote shrugs, remaining silent. 

“Coyote?” Bradley asks, curiosity coloring his tone. 

Coyote shakes his head, standing up from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting on next to Hangman. “I’ve regretted the way I treated her every day of my life. Can’t say the same about my old team.” 

“Javy-” Hangman calls as Coyote disappears out the door Payback had just come through.

-

“I would really like to talk to you at some point.” 

You jump up, spinning on your feet. “Jesus Christ.” You rush out, sinking on to your bed when you realize it’s just Coyote. “God, I thought you’d all still be in the hangar and I could sneak in here and get my house key. Uncle Slider has our spare.” 

“Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner? Jesus, how many Navy legends do you know?” 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you slip the key into your purse. “Not as many as you’re probably thinking.” 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

“You know, in another life we were probably really good friends.” 

“In another life, you probably got called back here for this mission with me.” He says quietly. 

“But I didn’t and we’re not.” You say, standing up from your bed. “I gotta go.” 

“Rebel-” 

“Don’t call me that.” You say firmly. “If you’ve got something you want to say, talk that shit out with a therapist. I’m not interested in listening to what you have to say.” 

Coyote stands there for a minute, stunned. 

The old you probably wouldn't have been so harsh. The old you probably would’ve begged for his apology. The old you would’ve given up everything to be his friend.

But you weren’t the old you anymore and you never would be again. 

You walk past him before pausing in your doorway, turning. “I heard what you said out there. How you regretted the way you treated me everyday of your life. And if that’s how you feel, you did a really shit job of showing it.” 

He huffs, eyebrows furrowed together. “Fuck, you want me to get down on my knees and grovel?” 

“Yeah, actually that’d be nice.” 

“Oh my God.” He groans, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re fucking impossible. You sit here and say that I did a shit job of showing that I was sorry, but what the hell did you want me to do? You left.”

“You could’ve picked up the damn phone for starters. It’s not like you didn’t have my fucking phone number for Christ’s sake. You could have actually picked up the phone and said Hey, I’m sorry, how are you doing?”

He lets out a long breath, shaking his head. “You know what, you weren’t ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” 

“You weren’t ready. You weren’t cut out for it. You weren’t ever going to be cut out for this life if that’s all it takes to push you out of the Navy. Good riddance.” 

It’s silent for a moment as you stare him down, your chest suddenly falling rapidly as your anger wraps up into your chest, squeezing around your heart.

“How dare you.”

Your tone is deadly quiet, a tone you’d learned from Ice decades ago, gaze piercing as you watch Coyote flinch back. 

“How dare you.” You say a bit louder this time. “How dare you stand here and say I wasn’t cut out for it. You have no idea what hell the Navy put me through, what I have suffered at the hands of men like you, pilots whose egos are so big that they refuse to let a girl get in their way.” 

It seems like you can’t get enough breath in your lungs as you look at him, the anger overshadowing everything else. 

“I always, always thought better of you Coyote, even up until the very bitter end. But as it turns out, you’re just like them. That’s all you’ll ever be.” 

-

“Whoa, what did that waffle ever do to you?” Ice jokes at your angry stab of the bread, setting his plate down on the counter. “What’s going on, kid? Stop taking it out on your breakfast.” 

“Nothing.” You snap, stabbing at the food again. 

There’s a pause, before the anger that has been swirling in your chest since that day at the hangar pushes the words right out of you. 

“I just don’t get what he sees in those fucking pilots.” 

Despite the fact that you’d had rescheduled (rescheduled because last time Omaha’s car broke down and the time before that Fanboy had the flu and needed chicken noodle soup and the time before that Hangman wanted to go for a ride in the P-51) breakfast plans with your Dad before he had to go into work (because this was the only time he could fit you in), he’d canceled because Bob’s truck wasn’t starting and needed a ride to base. 

Ice sighs, leaning back in his chair. 

“How in the hell have they been here for five fucking minutes and I’m suddenly playing second fiddle? Oh, I know. It’s because Dad’s always loved to get his eyes and hands on a shiny new toy. He’s got his fancy new kids with their fancy new squadron and fancy new promotions. Who the hell needs a failure for a kid when you have twelve golden children?” 

The words taste bitter on your tongue, spitting them out faster than you can stop yourself. 

“Kid, they’ve been here for almost six months. The Dagger squadron isn’t going anywhere. Don’t you think it’s time to, you know, put all of this aside and at least try?” 

“No!” 

Ice sighs again, picking his fork back up. “I miss my goddaughter.” Ice mumbles and based on the subtle wince immediately following them, you suspect Ice hadn’t even meant to speak the words out loud. 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You demand, cocking your head. 

“It means that you haven’t been the same since you came home from the Green Vipers.” Ice snaps. “And sometimes I think it would’ve been better for everyone if I had just left you there.” 

You gape at your godfather, tears stinging at your eyes. “You would’ve left me there?” 

“Maybe it would’ve given you a chance to push yourself instead of taking the easy way out.” 

It’s quiet for a minute until you scoff, shaking your head. “I can not believe you’d leave me in a place where they actively tried to have me killed.” You say as Ice’s head flies up from his breakfast. You stand up from your seat, chair scraping across the floor, Ice rising with you. 

“You know, I’m sorry trying to deal with the aftermath of surviving such a traumatic event has been such a burden.” 

-

“Sir?

He groans, reaching up to rub his temple. His goddaughter’s words had left a bad taste in his mouth and the last thing he wanted to deal with was Maverick causing an incident. 

“What is it Jamie?” 

“This file was just dropped off by Captain Peters. You’re going to want to read it, sir.” 

He holds out his hand as his secretary walks into the room, holding the file stamped CLASSIFIED on the front. 

“It’s a harassment report and preliminary investigation from pilot Julie Connors, callsign Ruby.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, taking the file from Jamie. “This feels a little bit below my jurisdiction, Jamie. A harassment report should all be handled by the responding committee.” 

She nods, letting out a breath. “Yeah, Admiral Davis specifically requested that you read this.” 

“Why?” He asks, flipping through the file.

“Your goddaughter is named several times.” 

He freezes, looking back up at his secretary. 

“Sir, they’re investigating Thompson and the Green Vipers for harassment.” 

-

“-sir? Admiral Kazansky?” 

His ears are ringing as he storms into the classroom, everyone turning to face him. His hand lands on the back of Machado’s chair, dangerously close to his neck. 

“Admiral Simpson, I am very sorry to interrupt but there’s an urgent and pressing  matter regarding Lieutenant Commander Machado’s previous assignment that I must speak with him about. Might I borrow him?” 

It’s clear to everyone in the room that Ice isn’t really asking for permission.

“Uh…” Cyclone says, with a blink. “Sure.” 

His hand falls to the back of Coyote’s service khakis. His grip is tight as the kids tumbles with him, desperately trying to keep pace as they walk down the hallway towards his office. 

Once inside, Ice can only look at the kid, the anger rising in him faster than his ability to tamp it down and be professional. 

“You have one chance, Machado, to set the story straight. If you care at all about your career, you will tell me the truth about what they did to my goddaughter.” 

His voice is quiet, but no less deadly, allowing him to see the exact minute Coyote’s mask slips into place. 

The boy’s posture is stiff, unable to meet his eye. 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to, sir.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“So you have no idea what this harassment report from Lieutenant Connors is about?” 

“Not a clue, sir.” 

He lets out a fake laugh, picking the file up from his desk. “Well let’s see then.” He says, flipping through the file he’d spent all morning poring over, horror filling his gut at every word. 

And he had told her he would’ve left her in this place?

“Ah, yes, here it is. This is a direct quote from Lieutenant Connors: The Andrews twins always spoke proudly of their greatest accomplishment: successfully breaking the pilot known by the callsign Rebel by almost having her and her wingman killed. They forced her out by putting someone else’s life on the line. They got no greater joy out of life than reminiscing on what they had done. That doesn’t ring a bell at all, Lieutenant Commander?” 

Coyote swallows, shoulders stiffening as he talks. 

“With all due respect sir, if your goddaughter couldn’t hang, that’s not really my problem.”

-

There’s a knock on the front door as you rifle through the box, sorting through the old books. 

“It’s open.” You call, pulling the set of Harry Potter books out of the box. The front door opens and then shuts again, the visitor clearly entering the home. 

When had your Dad come into possession of the Harry Potter series?

“Hey.” 

You glance up at the voice, seeing Bradley standing there with his hands shoved in his jean pockets. You sigh, setting the box set down. 

You hadn’t spoken much to Bradley over the last few months, even as much as he’d become part of your family once more. You tolerated him for your Dad but you’d made it explicitly clear where the two of you stood. He’d always respected and maintained that distance, seemingly reciprocating the need for it. 

The two of you had somehow found yourself in no man’s land without ever really meaning to. No way forward, but no way back either. 

“Dad’s not here at the moment, got caught up with something at work. Kinda sounds like your squadron is falling apart.” 

He sighs, rocking back on his feet. “It is… which is why I’m here to talk to you. How’d you know about that?” 

You side-step his question, going back to shuffling papers in the box. “What do you have to talk to me about?” 

“Is it true?” 

You don’t meet his eyes, gaze firmly planted on the copy of Catch-22 in the box. 

“Is what true Bradshaw?” 

“Is what she is alleging in that report true? What they did?” 

“You’d have to ask Machado for the answer on that one, I’m afraid.”

“Is what she alleging they did to you true?” 

You give a half shrug. “So what if it is? Doesn’t change the fact that they won.” 

You hear him squat behind you. “It matters if you left them just for them to do the same thing to somebody else.” 

You huff, standing up from where you’re seated on the floor. You can hear Bradley stand as well behind you. You turn, heading for the kitchen when Bradley speaks again. 

“Ruby deserves better than that.” 

“I deserved better than that!” You shout, turning on your heels. Bradley doesn't flinch, remaining firm. 

It’s silent for a minute as Bradley just watches you. 

“Are you going to tell them? Tell Davis and the committee what they did?” 

You huff out a frustrated laugh. “No. Hell no.” 

“Ruby-”

“Don’t sit here and lecture me about fucking Ruby, Bradshaw. I know all about her.” 

He blinks. “You know Ruby?” 

You sigh, glancing away from him. “I got in a fight with Ice this morning about them, you know? Because he said he would’ve left me there had he known this was going to be how I came back. An hour later, Ruby’s calling me to tell me she’s filed a report and she’s named me to the committee. Ruby’s calling me to compare stories, to see if the ones they told about me were true.” 

You sigh, crossing your arms as tears sting your eyes. You blink them back, unwilling to let yourself cry over them. 

“Ruby is who I would’ve become if I had stayed. And that terrifies me.” You whisper. 

It’s silent for another minute as you continuously blink back the stinging tears. 

“Are you going to talk to the committee?” 

You shake your head. “Given what happened the last time I spoke to one of the Navy’s stupid investigation committees, absolutely not.” 

Bradley quirks an eyebrow. “What happened last time?” 

You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter. I told Ruby she never should’ve filed that report. The Navy’s never gonna fire them and all they’ll do is punish her for speaking up. I know that story all too well.” 

“Coyote’s fate rests on what you tell that committee.” Bradley says, stepping closer. 

“Oh fuck Machado.” 

“Listen-” 

“No, you listen, Bradshaw. I don’t give a shit about what happens to Coyote because he certainly didn’t give a shit about what happened to me.”

“The girl I knew would have stepped up for what was right.” 

“Yeah, and in another life, you and I probably fell in love and got married. In another life, I’m probably fucking best friends with Coyote and have a happy family with Dad and he probably fucking marries Penny, I don’t know. But this is real life. This is our reality. Where I was almost killed by a squadron who believed I was better off dead, where I had a wingman who agreed with them. Where you disappeared for two decades and blamed me for everything that was never my fault. Where I can’t stand to be in the same room as the people who raised me anymore because they refuse to understand the reality we are living in, where the Navy broke me.” 

You let out a bitter laugh, looking at Bradley as you think back over the past decade of your life. “This, this, is the reality we are living in. This isn’t the reality where we all got to become some big ol’ happy family and I’m not the girl you knew anymore. This is it. This is who I am. Wake up.”

-

tagging people who were interested: @cherrycola27 @colourfulsuitwonderland @horseslovers2016

[m00nc4kes]

A Chance. pt 2. (pacific rim! au)

hobie brown x gn!reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: You and Hobie drift for the first time.

warnings: me being inconsistent with hobie's accent (pls I tried), death, blood, mostly from the memories

notes: once again, reader is gn but if I gendered anything lemme know! my readers are always black coded even if its not said outright but anyone can read :3

[part 1] [part 2] (ur here lolol)

Apparently, the sparring match had been the easy part. Convincing Hobie to actually drift with you was the hard part.

Jess had approved you and Hobie to begin drifting, but he had shut it down immediately.

“No. Absolutely not. And ‘m not goin’ back ‘n forth with ya.” Was all he said before shutting himself in his room. You sat in front of his door and complained about him acting like a stubborn child.

“C’mon! Jess said that we stood a chance!”

“That means nothin’ to me,'' came the muffled reply. You sighed and leaned your head on the metal frame of the door.

“You’re not even a little curious about what goes on in my head?” You paused then grinned. “You don’t wanna know what makes me tick?”

“Coulda sworn I said I wasn’t goin’ back ‘n forth with ya.”

You kissed your teeth and rested your head on your knees. “Fine, fine. I’ll just sit here then!” you shouted then muttered, “All night. In the cold…” You allowed yourself to trail off as your dramatics continued to climb. “I’ll just be wonderin’ why my potential drift partner hates me—”

A loud click sounded behind you and the door creaked open. Hobie peered down at you with an unamused expression. “I never said I hated ya.”

“But you did say you weren’t gonna go back ‘n forth with me.” Hobie’s scoff had you climbing to your feet. You continued, “Won’t you at least give it a chance? We won’t even be going out into the field— just inside Hellion.”

“And you’ll be in my head,” he snapped, then caught himself with a grimace. “Why do ya feel the need to push it, hm? Can’t take no for an answer or somethin’?”

“No. I can’t.” You couldn’t stop your face from contorting into a scowl as you snarked, “Why are you even here if you don’t plan on drifting with anyone?”

“I already told ya—”

“Well, I don’t believe you.”

Hobie threw his hands up, signaling that he had nothing else to say, and stepped back behind his door. “Goodnight.”

Before he could completely shut the door, you pushed your hand against it. Your mind had been struggling to find an answer to why you didn’t completely believe Hobie. His reasoning didn’t fit his character. If he was truly done being a pilot, he would’ve just left. If he was concerned about his friends risking their lives, he would find a way to convince them to leave with him. 

No, this was much much more personal than that. And he had already told you his reasoning: to make sure no one else pilots Hellion Riser.

“You don’t want anyone to replace Karl.”

That stopped Hobie completely in his tracks. He stared at you as if the words slapped him in the face. You had a horrible habit of pushing people’s buttons; sometimes you did it on purpose, while other times you couldn’t stop your mouth from moving.

“I’m not trying to replace him, Hobie, I swear it. I could never erase what you guys had— what you two did. Hell, y'all set records. I just—”

Hobie put his hand up to stop you. “I’d rather not have this chat outside.” His door creaked as he motioned you inside.

When the door closed behind you, you were met with the sight of Hobie’s covered walls. There were some posters of well known rock bands from before the war and newspaper clippings of different kaiju attacks. You wondered if they had some significance to him. Though, what had caught your eye was a sticker-covered guitar leaned up against Hobie’s nightstand.

“So, d’ya have a habit of bein’ an arse or is that jus’ wit’ me?” Hobie sat himself on his bed and crossed his arms. You stared down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“An arse? Me? Never.” You trailed your eyes along the newspaper clippings until one caught your eye. “I’m just… stubborn.” You tried to keep a steady tone but your mind had already traveled somewhere far away.

In your peripheral, you could see Hobie shift to see what you were looking at. “You have a personal history with Steelcutter, mate?”

You blinked yourself back into the present and stepped away from the wall, needing to physically distance yourself from the image. As you observed the clippings, their purpose suddenly made sense.

“These are all kaijus that Hellion has taken down.” It was a statement, no question about it.

“Yep. Majority of ‘em are from the old pilots.” He tilted his head. “You dodgin’ my question?”

“Yep,” you mocked, looking him up and down. You opened your mouth to continue, but it suddenly struck you that you were in fact alone in Hobie’s room. And he was staring at you with those champagne eyes of his and— 

No, no, no. You weren’t going to entertain that anymore. You had one goal and he was actively stopping you from reaching it. Past infatuation had no place here. It hadn’t had one in a long time and it wouldn’t get one now. 

Ignoring the heat burning at your cheeks, you cleared your throat. “So about the drift—”

“You were right, y’know.”

You felt your words die on your lips. “I… what?”

“I don’t want anyone to replace Karl. They couldn’t if they tried. But that’s only part of it.”

You blinked owlishly. You hadn’t expected him to be so outright with it.

He continued, “I don’t want to watch anyone else I care about die.”

“We don’t even know each other like that—”

“Yet.” He stood up. “That’s the part ya keep overlookin’. I’ll be finding out everything about you. I’ll be in your head and you’ll be in mine. Ya won’t get out of that without at least carin’ a little. That’s the whole point of a drift partner. Ya pilot the jaeger together, ya fight together, and ya expect to die together. I won’t get outta carin’ for ya and ya won’t get outta carin’ for me. Get it?”

Hobie’s words were passionate, borderline desperate for you to understand. And you were beginning to understand. You chewed on his words for a moment, letting the air settle. “But you enjoyed having that partner, didn’t you? You enjoyed fighting alongside him and allowing someone to be that intertwined with you, right? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“It’s not tha’ simple.”

“Of course not. But every relationship comes with the risk of an ending. Avoiding companionship altogether will make you miserable, especially when you’re itching to go back into the field.”

An indignant laugh left Hobie’s lips. “And who told ya I wanted to go back?”

“You still train— which is how you beat me during the trials; and you don’t seem like someone who lets people die in vain. Don’t you wanna show those fuckin’ kaijus where they can stick it? Don’t you want revenge for Karl?”

There had always been a muted fire behind Hobie’s eyes. The embers of the flames would dance around his irises, refusing to turn into ash. Though, under his appraisal, you could see the blazing inferno that you had sparked. 

It made you think that your insistence had pushed Hobie too far over the edge. Maybe your luck had run out.

To your surprise, Hobie backed down and released a heavy sigh as he plopped onto his bed. He dragged a hand down his face before asking, “D’ya have any confessions?”

You frowned. “Confessions?”

“Confessions, mate. Anything you’d like to tell me before I find out against your will?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. Disbelief rose in you like a climbing rollercoaster. “...you don’t mean…”

He gave you a look that told you everything you needed to know. He raised a finger. “We’ll try it once and only once. Let’s see if Jess knows wha’ she’s talkin’ about.”

The news about you drifting with Hobie spread like a wildfire. It morphed into a bigger event than you had anticipated. There were whispers about Hellion Riser finally becoming active again, while the in-your-face doubters approached you around every corner. The doubters were either shut down by some not-so-kind words or, to your complete and utter surprise, Hobie flat out telling them to shut the fuck up before there was a problem.

His reluctance to completely accept you as his partner was still present, but he didn’t seem too fond of other people sharing that same sentiment. 

The day came when Hellion was ready for you two to test your compatibility. The nerves shook you to your core; even your steadying breaths couldn’t calm your racing heart.

There were people around you helping make sure your suit fit your frame properly. Beside you, Hobie was receiving the same treatment. You watched as he opened and closed his fist with some sort of fascination. 

His eyes suddenly flicked toward you and he gave you a small grin. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

Your grin was strained. “I just might.” 

Before you could say another word, a helmet was being placed in your hands. You put it on while the people around you adjusted it for you.

Then, you were led into the jaeger where the workers left you and Hobie to get situated. Hobie was quieter than usual as he made his way to the right side.

“Are you nervous?” you asked. You hated how meek you sounded

“Nervous?” The laugh that came from him was curt. “‘M fuckin’ terrified.”

The simulators had nothing on the real thing. Colorful displays and illuminated buttons hovered in front of your place in the jaeger. 

Across from you, Hobie took the first step into the footholds and the machine automatically adjusted to his stature. He watched you expectantly and it made you bite the bullet.

You stepped into your foothold and several things occurred at once. The machine attached to your back to hold you in place then your wrists went through the same process, though they had more free reign than your back. 

There was sudden laughter in your ears and you whipped your head around to see Hobie with an amused smile on his face. 

“What’s so funny?” you snarked, already knowing that he was laughing at you. 

“Your boat, that’s what.”

“My boat?” 

“Your face, bruv.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never had something attached to my spine before!” Your face cringed at the thought which made him snicker.

An automated voice cut through your banter. 

Pilots on board and ready to connect.

In your helmet, you could hear Hobie take a deep breath as he reached forward to flip a few switches.

Next, Jess’s voice came through the speaker. “Alright, you two, we’re preparing for the neural handshake.”

It was really happening. Your heart was in your throat and you wondered if you were truly ready for this. To let someone— Hobie in your head. Could you handle something like that?

“Oi, bruv. Don’t go chasin’ R.A.B.I.T.s, got it? Just let ‘em flow past you, don’t let ‘em stay.”

Right, right. Rabbits. Some long ass acronym for memories. “Okay. Okay, I can do that.”

Neural interface Drift initiated.

Flashes upon flashes of memories that didn’t belong to you flooded into your mind. Voices and unintelligible whispers whipped past your ears. 

You could see a smaller Hobie learning guitar from his mother. You felt the love and pride he had when he did something right. But then, you felt his desperation when his mother succumbed to alcohol.

You felt how he’d wondered what he did wrong to be neglected the way he was.

Then, memories that had been buried long ago were being unveiled before your eyes. Your parents cradling you as an infant, Your giggles as they made their silly faces.

You, as a toddler, wandering a desecrated city street. Ash and glass littered the street as you walked with a thumb in your mouth.

The memories clashed and overlapped with each other. Hobie’s time in the foster care system; you being taken in by an aunt; Hobie being accepted into the jaeger program— all of it. Moments you cherished like your introduction to being a jaeger technician and seeing Hobie for the first time.

You had admired him from afar. Someone who piloted your favorite jaeger and did it with pride. 

And when he spoke to you for the first time, your head had spun in circles and your mouth couldn’t keep up with it. 

Then, you saw Karl. 

You saw Hobie and Karl meeting for the first time during the trials. Saw them reading their results and becoming drift partners— becoming best friends. You could feel the love they had for one another, how much they cared about each other. They were inseparable. Hobie would throw an arm over Karl’s shoulder and they would share a joke no one but them understood.

Karl was his best friend.

With a sharp breath, you were back in reality. 

Right hemisphere calibrated.

Sharing a mind with someone was beyond jarring. You could hear the echoes of thoughts coming from Hobie, but none were coherent. Just feelings. You wondered if your mind was just about the same.

Left hemisphere calibrated.

You raised your right arm, perfectly in sync with Hobie, then raised your left. Together, Hellion Riser raised both of her fists in a battle stance.

Ready to activate the Jaeger.

A thought that didn’t belong to you streamlined through your mind and you laughed. Without a moment of hesitation, Hellion was raising two middle fingers.

A very unamused Jess cut through the speaker. “Very mature, you guys.”

Her displeasure only made your guys’ laughter bubble from your chests and echo into the cockpit.

Calibration complete. 

There was something familiar about laughing with him. Something that didn’t belong to you.

Because it didn’t.

You weren’t in the present anymore.

“Did you see how I fucking blasted him, dude?” You were Karl Morningdew. No, you were Hobie. Fuck, it didn’t matter. They were sharing a mind. You were both of them. 

“Bloke didn’t see it comin’!” Hobie had laughed, pride shining in his grin, and Karl joined him. 

They thought the job was done, but the kaiju had disappeared in the waters below them. Hobie had been the first to notice.

“Oi, where the fuck did it—”

Hellion was being slammed against, nearly toppling the jaeger over. “Fuck! How’s it still going?!”

Claws dug into the cockpit and they both screamed. You could feel their bewilderment and their fear— because jaegers weren’t supposed to be torn into like this. It wasn’t supposed to be possible. 

“We need to get it off!” Hobie had attempted to do so, but it had been too late.

With another swing, the kaiju tore into the right side and pulled Karl out.

You felt it all. Your senses were drowned with panic, panic, panic. Disbelief. And oh, the grief hit like a truck. It was hot in your hands— sent frigid chills down your spine.

And it hurt. 

Being thrown back into reality sent your mind into a flurry. It came with ringing alarms and a distressed Jess. 

“Hellion! You are out of alignment!”

You could hear Hobie apologizing— you could feel his grief clawing at him. At you. You’d felt like that before. You had. 

Then you’d heard him calling your name. Telling you not to chase the rabbit.

You were confused. 

What rabbit? 

You and Riri never had a rabbit. In fact, a rabbit never crossed your mind as you two walked down the city street.

New York City was a place. A place you called home. It was filled to the brim with people that narrowly dodged each other on the sidewalk. Cars honked at each other nonstop and music played from somewhere you didn’t care to check.

Beside you, Riri nudged your side. “Hey, cousin. Whatchu think ‘bout this move?” 

And in the middle of the sidewalk, she broke out in the butterfly dance. She moved her legs in a smooth in and out motion. Being fourteen, you were absolutely horrified that she was breaking out into a dance in public.

“Riri! Stoooppp!” you cried, shaking her arm. With her being two years your senior, she absolutely reveled in embarrassing you.

“Whaaat? I’m just dancin’!” 

You had to avert your eyes as she began to tootsie roll. “I’m gonna tell Teetee that you’re using her lessons for evil!” 

“You’re gonna tell my mom?!” She screeched. You laughed in her face as she playfully pushed you.

Everything stopped when the world started shaking. Your first thought was an earthquake, but the look on Riri’s face stopped you in your tracks. “What? What is it, cousin?” you pleaded.

The sound of screaming cut through the air then you were being pushed around by people running for their lives. You couldn’t tell what was happening but there was a dark cloud of destruction in the opposite direction.

Riri roughly yanked your arm and dragged you with the crowd. You wanted to ask what was going on, but a deep fear in your gut told you everything you needed to know. 

Jets flew overhead, shooting missiles at the kaiju that was dragging itself through the city.

Through it all, you couldn’t help but get the inkling that someone was trying to get your attention. Muffled words bounced off your mind as fear clouded it. 

The kaiju moved faster than you two could run, even with its long, slow steps that destroyed everything under its feet. You made the mistake of looking back.

The cloud of destruction couldn’t hide the grotesque thing from you any longer. It walked on all fours and was covered in a monstrous variety of spikes. It dragged itself through the street, tearing through buildings and bringing a storm of glass down upon its victims.

And it was nearly upon you. You wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

The terror took hold of your legs and you fell to your stomach. Riri tried to get you back up, but you couldn’t hear her desperate pleas over your screams. You were going to die. And there wasn’t anything you could refute that with.

What you hadn’t expected was your cousin to shield your body with hers.

The rain of glass sliced open your arms and any other part of your body it could reach. However, Riri took the full brunt of it.

The kaiju walked past you two, destroying what it could over the incessant attacks from the jets. All the while, you watched Riri’s life fade from her eyes as she collapsed on top of you.

You laid there, too scared to move. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d wake up from your nightmare. But the glass that stuck itself into Riri’s body was all too real to even consider this a dream.

So you silently cried, too scared to cry any louder. Though, your weeping came to a solid halt when another pair of giant footsteps raced through the city. Was it another kaiju? Why was there another one?

Instead, a brilliant red and blue jaeger raced from the darkness and stopped the kaiju from causing any more destruction.

You couldn��t help but think: thank god. Because if the jaeger hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be able to scream and beg for Riri to—

Wake up!

The breath that you forced into your lungs dragged you back into reality. Your helmet had been discarded somewhere else and Hobie was holding you. His face was relieved when you finally looked him in the eye.

“You’re okay. It was just a memory. Just a memory,” he whispered to you. You could feel the tears burn in your eyes. Not only from the fresh memory buzzing around your head, but from the frustration of it all.

You fucked up.

And that disappointment followed you throughout the rest of the day. Everything had passed in a blur and somehow you found yourself here, sitting in the catwalk above Hellion. The base was deep into its night hours, with very few people still out and about. Unfortunately, you were one of them.

You hadn’t expected to be so shaken up, by why wouldn’t you? The last memory of Riri hadn’t been a pleasant one and it haunted your every move. Now Hobie knew it too.

You had one shot and you blew it.

There were footsteps heading in your direction. When you looked up, you saw the last person you wanted to see. Instead of greeting Hobie, you tucked your head in your arms and curled your knees close to your chest.

“That’s one way to say hello, innit.” Hobie’s voice did things to your soul that you hadn’t expected. Being in his head, knowing what made him who he was, gave you an entirely new outlook on who Hobie Brown was. 

Hobie had been right. You can’t be inside someone’s head and expect not to care about them. But you didn’t need the drift for it to be established, no, all it did was build upon the foundation that was already there. 

And you weren’t ready to deal with that yet. Nor ever.

Hobie came close to you, standing instead of sitting beside you. “Still shaken up?”

You clicked your tongue and let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“I don’t hold it against ya, it was your first time.”

“And my only time.” You let bitterness seep into your voice while your nails dug into your arms. 

There was a sigh above you, then Hobie was sliding down to sit next to you. You could only focus on the way the side of his body pressed against yours and it did things to your heart.

“It was unrealistic to think nothin’ would go wrong our first time.” He leaned his head against the railing. “You weren’t the only one who messed up. I messed up first.”

You moved your head to peek at him. He stared off into the distance and you watched his eyes jump from place to place until they landed on you. 

Being under his gaze made you shy and you hated that it reverted you back to your intern days. Your ears burned and you tore your eyes away. His laugh was kind and far from teasing. It only made the heat flare in your cheeks.

When his laughter died down, you two sat in a comfortable silence. Once you were able to get over Hobie’s proximity, your mind traveled back to Riri. You didn’t know if your somberness had leached into the atmosphere, but Hobie ended up nudging you.

“It’s not your fault, ya know tha’, right?”

You raised your head. “What isn’t?”

“Your cousin.”

You took in a sharp breath. “Is that so?” your voice wobbled, but you held firm. “I could’ve—”

“You did what you could.”

You wanted to get defensive, you wanted to deny him because what did he know? But he knew a lot. He’d seen it. He’d seen your moment of weakness and your failure and still said it wasn’t your fault. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you wouldn’t cry for the umpteenth time today. You did what you could. And that was nothing. You couldn’t do anything but be protected. 

Hobie placed a hand on your arm and squeezed it gently. It was a warm touch that sent your soul into a delightful spiral. 

You wanted to say something, but everything died on your tongue. You just knew that there was no use in trying to argue with Hobie. 

Instead, you smiled as you were reminded of something. “So you dream of being a rockstar?”

Hobie practically blinded you with his smile. “Everyday, mate. Gonna start a band after the war.”

“You already have people in mind?”

“Course! Got me a drummer and a few youngers lookin' to rock out.” 

You muttered to yourself, “After the war, huh.” You were glad that Hobie was looking forward to something after the war— even if you doubted that the kaijus would be defeated in your lifetime. 

“Yep. Which is why Hellion is gonna stick it to those fuckin’ kaijus.”

Your eyes widened. “Wha— You actually want to try again?”

“Second time’s a charm.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

“It is now. D’ya want to try or not?”

By this point, you had unfurled from your position and you were openly staring at Hobie. “I— Well, yeah! I wanna try again.”

“Good.” He rose to his feet and dragged you up with him. “We’re gonna need rest if that’s the case.”

There was something about the blaze in his eyes that told you that it was never anger. No, it was the burning desire to fight. To put an end to the war so he could live his life without fear. To be free.

He threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close. “Don’ worry. I won’t bring up the fact that you fancy me.” He poked your cheek and you could’ve sworn you were gonna faint from the sudden rush of blood to your face. “Not yet, at least.”

Steam could’ve risen from your cheeks and you wouldn’t have questioned it. 

Hobie openly laughed as you batted him away. There was no way you were gonna get away with hiding it. He was in your head and you were stuck with him now.

You had asked for a chance and he gave it to you.

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taglist: @hobieszeze

thanks for reading you guys ^^ i can’t say for sure if i’ll write another part but i’ll be focusing on my molotov fic !!

[dizzymisslizzie]

Casual Friday

Henry’s luggage is somewhere over the pacific going in the complete wrong direction.

He fantasizes that this would never happen to someone with a private jet.

The heat of LA is overwhelming in his trousers and sweater. His carry-on is a Burberry weekender that has his meds, toiletries and a few books. He’s going to have a buy a whole weeks worth of clothes.

He’s being picked up from airport by his new publisher. He’s on the curb and realizes that he didn’t pass the typical dark suited person holding a sign with his name. He’s looking around and opens his rapidly dying phone to call his contact, Zahra. Before he can type out the message, a red open jeep screeches to a halt in front him. After the dust settles, Henry sees brown curls, a sharp jaw cresting into a chin dimple, a perfect nose holding up aviator sunglasses that reflect Henry’s hapless expression. The curls are cut short but he’s imagining them longer and draped over his shoulder as… wait - is the most attractive man he’s ever seen walking towards him?

“Fox?” The southern drawl that comes out is honey smooth and adorable. He nods and this seems to amuse the gorgeous human who smirks and takes off his aviators. When he pulls the sunglasses off his face Henry notices his sinfully long fingers that he wants to suck into his mouth.

“Is that all you brought?” Adonis asks Henry who still hasn’t said a word. He shakes his head, “The airline lost my luggage.”

“So you need to go shopping?” Eros asks Henry who barely trusts himself to speak so he just nods. The brown eyes of Adonis sparkle and Henry isn’t sure why.

“Well then, Sweetheart. I’ve got just the place. Hop in. Oh! I’m Alex!” Henry’s fucked. “Hi, I’m Henry.”

“Oh I know, let’s get a move on.” Alex winks and takes Henry’s bag from his shoulder and stores it in the jeep.

A short drive full of getting to know you things later…

“Here we are!” Alex pulls in a gravel parking area with an old wooden A-frame store front with gold letters reading Vintage.

“I was expecting…” Henry starts.

“Rodeo drive, your majesty?” Alex smiles wide.

“Not exactly… but maybe one of those malls you’re all so proud of.” Henry looks over the well kept building.

“C’mon, give it a shot.” Alex claps him on the shoulder and walks him into the shop.

A bells rings when they enter, Alex leads Henry to a section of the store.

“Ok, there’s chinos and button ups but there’s some great denim for your readings and these amazing vintage t-shirts.” Alex is pointing in various directions and Henry cannot keep up.

“Sorry, too much?” Alex asks, wincing a little.

“No, I’m not a great shopper. I tend to get anxious.” Henry’s admits as he looks around at the decor on the walls. It’s got rich colors and accents that could border on over stuffed but isn’t.

“Can I pull a few things for you?” Alex asks.

“Yes… I think that’s would be helpful.” Henry is nervous that he’ll just buy whatever Alex picks out for him.

“Stellar!” Alex is off to the races, “oh! Sizes?” Henry tells him and turns to a rack of khakis. He finds a few trousers in his size, a few button up shirts that are neutral colors. He takes his finds to the dressing room where Alex has set up a dressing room full of selections.

“Jesus, we have got to work on your wardrobe.”

“My look is… classic.” Henry’s sticks out his chin.

“Absolutely! But also boring as fuck.” Alex gives him a cheeky smile.

“What’s your plan then?” Henry looks around his selections.

“Picture it! Color… on… your clothes!” Alex does silly magician flourishes and Henry honest to god giggles.

“I am in LA for professional reasons.” Henry’s reminds him.

“And I pulled several business casual options but! You could dress more your age, relate more to your audience, maybe even… gasp… show some personality.” Alex teases.

“Why would my readers care about my personality?” Henry’s quirks and eyebrow.

“They are obsessed enough to come to a reading, they are interested in you. Authenticity, well… it’s something that not everyone can give but I see you can. I think showing more of yourself will resonate with your readers. They might even feel seen.” The sincerity on Alex’s face when he says to Henry makes his inside molten with feelings.

“That’s… exactly how I wanted people to feel with my first book. I… Pez, he’s the only one who sees me.” Henry shares.

“He’s a very lucky human.” Alex says low and a little… Henry can’t place it.

“He is, we became best mates at Eton and it was like he saw straight through the uniform and confident facade and saw me. It meant everything to me and I wouldn’t be who I am today without him.” Henry smiles nostalgically.

“I’m so glad you’ve got him in your corner.” Alex says and Henry can’t believe he’s real.

“Alright, Foxy, let’s try so stuff on!” Alex turns and Henry would swear he wipes his eyes before picking up a few hangers. “Here ya go! Shopping montage!” Alex sits in an overstuffed purple chair and Henry closes the curtain.

Henry tries the trousers first and two of them fit fine, third are too long.

“Hurry up! I wanna see something! Also, I’m almost done with the pick up order for essentials. Any special requests?”

“See something? I’m trying on trousers, I don’t think I need assistance in deciding if they fit or not, Mum!” Henry’s being cheeky.

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Alex calls back. Henry smiles and rolls his eyes. Henry puts on the bright blue button up and navy trousers and opens the curtain.

Alex looks up from his phone and his smile makes Henry’s brain fuzzy.

Tagging @miss-minnelli

[elvenbeard]

Somewhere in Manila, 2078

“It is pretty nice here,” V said, and Kerry put his arm around him, pulling him a bit closer as he turned his head to look at him.

“C’mon, just ‘pretty nice’?” he asked grinning.

“Okay, it’s beautiful, breathtaking, astounding!” V said and Kerry chuckled, “You weren’t exaggerating.”

“And this is just the hotel! Wait ‘til you see the city. And the beaches! But we gotta drive a little to get to the better ones. Nothin’ beats the one in Tangalan anyway, but that’ll have to wait 'til next week…”

Kerry went on rambling about all they had planned, everything he wanted to show V, parties and events they could go to, the secret spots only he and maybe a handful of other people knew. Some of it all sounded quite adventurous, and V still struggled to imagine Kerry clambering through the jungle to get to some of these extra special hidden gems. But his excitement was downright infectious. Truly just adorable. V was relieved to see Kerry so genuinely happy again, too, the stress of the last weeks really had been weighing him down. Getting ready for this trip in the background had been his sole motivator for staying on top of the mountain of promo events for his album.

Just three more interviews before we can get on the plane. Just this one photoshoot, and then I can finally start packing my stuff. That one private show, that one industry party, that one red carpet, and then Lee can kiss my ass and we’ll fuck off across the Pacific.

Being here now finally, chilling at the hotel bar and recovering from the long flight, still felt somewhat surreal.

“… - and we really gotta go to Quinta Market later. Gonna cure your resentment to street food there once and for all.”

Kerry took a sip of his drink, then looked back at V, who had been watching him the whole time, a little tired and absentmindedly, but full of affection.

“What?” he asked, frowning slightly, but kept up his smile, the silver lines around his eyes and down his cheeks sparkling in the setting sun.

“Nothin’,” V said, “I’m happy you’re happy to be back here, is all.”

Kerry leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” he said, “That’s all that matters.”

AAAAHHH. A little bit of behind the scenes rambling here!!!

I didn't forget to take a pic of my setup at least this time XD I set this up at Denny's pool (free of concrete thankfully), because there is little distracting Night City scenery in the background that would destroy the illusion of this not being Night City xD But admittedly, the setup was a little rushed bc I just wanted to do some fluffy pics. I could actually spend hours setting up my scenes with all the awesome props I keep discovering o.o

Also: I had Kerry's summer vibes outfit ready since early June, but just didn't get around to doing anything with it until two weeks ago, AND THEN I didn't have time to edit the pics because other stuff kept grabbing my attention instead xD

But there is more to come, I have a whole lot more summer pics ready, all incredibly fluffy... because I need some fluff and knowing they have this in their future waiting for them, while on the side I'm writing the most angsty fic with constant dread and setbacks and death looming on the horizon, you know XD

Dad Shirts by @pinkyjulien 💛 I love them so much, I want Kerry's shirt for myself irl, it's my fave of the tropical recolors, the colors and pattern are so nice... and suit him so well imo!!

Also this is totally the follow up to the road trip pics I posted last week. They drove to L.A., spent a day or two there, and then hopped on the plane to Manila xD

[catmansquad]

Drive (Excerpt 2)

Back in the Pacific Drive universe, back with our stranded Gabriel O'Hara...

‘C’mon, friendly dumpster, what do you have for me?’ Gabriel tapped a hand on the lid of the strange dumpster, watching the strange ooze within pulse and glow, bubbling as the lid rattled, he stepped back, waiting for it to vomit up objects of use. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Gabriel turned to glance out beyond the perimeter of the garage. He reacted just in time to avoid the dumpster violently launching a can of repair putty and a spare bumper from within its mysterious confines. As the provided materials clattered to the floor, Gabriel scoured the horizon, his heart leapt into his throat as the figure emerged from the darkness, striding along the dirt road towards him and stopping just on the perimeter of the garage; clad in a suit of red and black unstable molecule fabric, bearing the insignia of a skull decorated spider. ‘Gabri…’ The figure spoke to him, calling out softly. Gabriel’s gaze raced over the figure before him, latching on to the figure’s left wrist; bare, no gizmo upon it that was like his own. It was all the proof he needed to assure him that this was the Aberration, not his brother. It could exist in stabilised reality now. ‘I know what you are.’ Gabriel responded, watching the Aberration’s head tilt to one side, masked crescents widening softly, but it gave no response. Terrified, Gabriel bit back the whimper in his throat ‘Why…? Why are you after me…? What do you want?’ He gasped as the Aberration took a step forwards, onto the gravel and then walked towards him, certain in its approach. ‘Why?’ The Aberration spoke out, fingers flexing, then it reached up one hand to pull the mask away, leaving it to dangle in his fingers.

Gabriel backed away slowly, staring at the Aberration, so much like Miguel that he could find no flaw in its appearance; red eyes, messy hair, worse still was just how weary it looked, the spitting image of his brother. ‘You’re not Miguel.’ ‘I’m not Miguel?’ The Aberration spoke back, gaze narrowing as one hand pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘… I… I didn’t ask to BE Miguel. I didn’t ask to come into this world like this. I didn’t ask for this head full of PAIN!’ He watched it lash out, driving a fist into a wall and the sharp cracks splintered outwards across the entire wall. The Aberration exhaled slowly, pulling its fist away, trembling. ‘…. My head is full of memories and thoughts and feelings I didn’t want! This world hurts. I need to know why I’m here…’ It stepped closer, visibly trembling. ‘Why am I here, Gabri…?’

Gabriel fell on his back as the Aberration leapt atop him, clawed fingers digging into the floor beside his head and that face inches from his own. ‘WHY DO I EXIST?! To suffer?! What sort of life is that?!’ He saw those familiar red eyes look frantically over his own face, and Gabriel realized that the Aberration wasn’t angry, wasn’t driven by rage, but motivated by confusion and distress. ‘I want to kill you, right now…’ Those claws dug into the floor, carving through stone as its hands closed into fists. ‘I still feel it, deep inside me, Gabri, that… hungry yearning. I want to kill you. Only then can I know peace.’ The Aberration exhaled slowly, resting their foreheads together. ‘But, I don’t want to kill you, Gabri. You’re my brother.’ The Aberration closed its eyes, whispering softly, like it was reassuring itself. ‘… You’re my brother…’ After a moment, Gabriel felt brave enough to move, and lifted his arms to wrap them around the familiar form, a gentle embrace that drew a shuddering breath from the Aberration. He saw its talons retract and moved to mirror the gesture. The warm embrace was familiar to Gabriel, reassuring and comforting since the days of childhood; being held by Miguel when their parents fought seemingly every night. Miguel was always the type to show comfort through a hug. ‘I miss you, Mig… I hate that I’m stuck here…’ Gabriel felt the dam inside him break and his emotions boiled to the surface, as he fought back the urge to sob, the tears in his eyes blurred his vision and the Aberration hushed him softly, a hand moving to stroke the back of his head. ‘I wanna go home, brother… Mi hermano…. I want to go home…’ ‘Shh, Gabri… Shh, I’ve got you….’   The Aberration held him as Gabriel finally broke down, sobbing as he clung to the thing that wore his brother’s familiar’s form, comforted in familiar strong arms.

---------

A.R.D.A. LOG: 33251 (“Aberration”)

“Currently classified as an "xeno-planar entity", this Anomaly appears to originate from “outside” reality. It is unknown if these beings possess any sort of will or sentience prior to emerging into our world, attempts to interrogate an Aberration to their true nature or reality has only resulted in nonsensical gibberish. It is unknown if this is due to the nature of their reality, or our language being incapable of expressing such a concept. What can be ascertained from study is that all Aberrations exhibited differences from the individual they were mimicking, when placed in a room with this individual, lapses in memory and information were common with the Aberration. It would appear that Aberrations do not become a 1:1 of the person, but instead become a 1:1 of how their creator thinks and remembers that person, thus, information outside of their scope of awareness will also be unknown to the Aberration, how it expresses this varies when its perception is challenged; some grow enraged, some invent lies, some shut down and become unresponsive.

Due to their nature, flaws, and behaviour, Aberrations cannot be accurately relied upon for covert maneuvers or interrogation tactics. We cannot create an Aberration in the form of an enemy commander and interrogate it for information. The committee has classified Aberrations to be Anomalies of minimal usefulness, no further budgeting will be applied to their project, all Anomalies contained on site are now scheduled for immediate incineration.” - ARDA Final Study Log: Aberrations, 1963.

[zukosdualdao]

fandom asks — 8, 9, 10, 19, & 20!

-teaandcrowns 🔥

8. is there anything I wish people would write more about in fics? (A dynamic, an exploration of an arc, just a character that doesn’t get much screentime, etc)

i thing i’d be interested to see more fic reimagining aang’s arc in season three. with how much it’s come up in discourse recently, i am thinking more about how aang doesn’t really get to be an active agent in his pacifism thanks to Deus Ex Pointy Rock Et Lion Turtle, and i’d like to see more fix that lends him that agency and allows him to grow more than canon does. (i would also love for energy-bending to have more clearly defined lore, even if it’s only in fanon lol, and to be introduced wayyy earlier on. i think learning it in conjunction with his firebending as a way of tying all of his masteries of the elements together would have been really cool.)

9. is there anything in general I wish more people in the fandom talked about?

this is sort of a double-edged-sword, because i genuinely understand the criticism of the way the creators chose to write jet as being morally corrupted by extremism when he’s fighting against oppression. that being said, i do wish it was more talked about/acknowledged that the issue in jet is not just wrt whether or not his killing the fn people in the town is acceptable or not. this is a complicated issue all on its own, and one that’s been debated at length already, so i’ll let it alone for now. but what i often find the conversation is missing is the acknowledgment that there are still earth kingdom citizens living in that town, who would have been killed along with anyone in the fire nation. we see this in the scenes showing sokka warning the townspeople and getting them to safety. jet says that he’s fighting to free them, but he is making the choice all on his own, without their knowledge or consent, that the lives of the very people he says he’s trying to help are worth sacrificing in the name of his ideals and retribution against the fn. and sokka says it best: “who would be free? everyone would be dead.”

i absolutely understand the need to criticize this writing, and i’m not saying people shouldn’t. writing jet as this extremist going too far in contrast toward the Morally Upstanding version of rebellion that the show is comfortable with re: the gaang is absolutely imbued with a centrist ideology i’m uncomfortable with and critical of. but when we’re talking about analyzing in-universe character motivations, i always find it striking that this aspect of jet gets waved away or ignored in these conversations.

10. A fic from the fandom I haven’t read yet, but I want to read

incendiary!

19. favorite headcanon

the gaang all do lots of traveling together (be it for political meetings or adventures without the weight of the world quite-so on their shoulders) post-war and stay in pretty regular contact.

20. least favorite headcanon

i know that this is less headcanon and more just how much post-canon screwed her over but the idea that katara would not want to have her hands DEEP in policy and politics (beyond banning bloodbending (which i don’t like but she wasn’t even there for it? c’mon!)) and not only that but have PLENTY of leverage to be as active and involved as she wants (even ignoring that she’s chief hakoda’s daughter and dating the avatar, she’s also a war hero ALL ON HER OWN)??? sounds fake.

thanks for the ask friend!

[thelastspeecher]

Another Foster Ford AU prompt, Ford bonding with his foster sisters and parents.

Beach episode :) Enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

              The Young family minivan stopped perfectly within the lines of a parking spot.

              “Good choice, dear,” Madeline Young, Ford’s foster mother, said to her husband.  Her husband and Ford’s foster father, Wyatt Young, smiled.

              “I wanted to park as close as I could to the sand so the kids can get to playing right away without walking across the hot parking lot.”

              “C’mon, c’mon!” ten-year-old Tina, one of Ford’s four foster sisters, said impatiently.  She was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement.  “I wanna swim!”  Madeline and Wyatt chuckled.

              “You can unload, girls,” Wyatt said.  “We’ll bring everything with us and set up on the beach.”

              “What about Stan?” asked seventeen-year-old Octavia.

              “We’ll bring him, too.  He’s too little to be allowed to run off without proper adult supervision,” Madeline said.  Ford’s foster sisters – Octavia, Tina, twelve-year-old Ashley, and fifteen-year-old Stephanie – eagerly opened the door of the minivan and bolted away.  Ford scowled from his car seat as he watched them sprint towards the ocean, shouting happily.

              For once, I wish Madeline and Wyatt would have been fine with the girls watching me.  I want to swim, too!  In fact, that was why they had come to the beach.  Wyatt took Ford to the neighborhood pool the week before, and when he discovered how much Ford liked to swim, suggested they take a family trip to the beach.  As someone who grew up in a beachside city, Ford was thrilled by the opportunity.

              “All right, Stan, let’s go set up a spot,” Wyatt said, unbuckling Ford from his car seat.  He headed for the beach.  As they walked across the sand, Ford started to squirm.  “What’s wrong?”

              “Put me down,” Ford said.  “Please,” he added quickly.

              “Are you sure?  The sand’s a bit hot and difficult for a little boy like you,” Wyatt said.

              “I’m sure, I’m sure!”

              “Okay.”  Wyatt set Ford down.  Ford promptly dug his tiny toes into the warm sand.  The familiar sensation made him smile.  “Wow, someone’s happy!”

              “I like the beach,” Ford said quietly.

              “You’ve been to one before?” Madeline, who had caught up to them with the rest of the supplies, asked.  Ford nodded.  “Huh.  That’s surprising.  Did your parents take you on vacation?”  Belatedly, Ford remembered that his foster family believed he was born and raised in Gravity Falls, Oregon.  He nodded again.

              “But not this kind of beach,” Ford said, watching the turquoise waves.  That, at least, was true.  The Atlantic Ocean at Glass Shard Beach was a far cry from the Pacific Ocean at San Diego.  Not only was the water a completely different color, but the sand was white, clean, and soft.

              Honestly, this makes the beach I grew up near seem like garbage.  Wyatt took ahold of Ford’s hand.

              “Then I’m happy we’re giving you a new experience,” Wyatt said cheerfully.  They continued to walk down the beach.  Ford stared at the water longingly.

              “I want to swim,” he whined to Wyatt.  Wyatt chuckled.

              “Don’t worry, you’ll get to swim.  But we need to set up first and get your floaties on.”  Ford scowled.  “I know you don’t like your floaties or your life vest, but they’re important to keep you safe.”

              When I was this age before, I had no such safety devices.  Though that might be more of a poor reflection on Mom and Pops than Wyatt and Madeline.  They reached a spot on the beach that Wyatt deemed satisfactory.  Ford sat down on the sand while he waited for Wyatt and Madeline to set up the umbrella and lay down the towels.  Once the umbrella was up, Wyatt scooched Ford underneath the shade.

              “I have sunscreen on, though,” Ford protested.  Before leaving the house, all the children had been thoroughly coated in sunscreen, as the instructions on the bottle said to apply fifteen minutes before sun exposure.  Wyatt ruffled his hair.

              “Yes, but we still want to keep you out of the sun as much as possible.  Your skin is more sensitive than someone older.”

              “I guess,” Ford mumbled.  In truth, he was relieved he wouldn’t be experiencing a repeat of the many sunburnt days of his first childhood.

              Again, not something that reflects well on my parents.  Ford watched his foster parents finish setting things up.  The toys they had packed for playing in the sand, he wouldn’t deny he was excited by.  But the ocean was practically calling to him, getting louder and louder the longer he sat under the umbrella.  After what felt like hours, Madeline finally put Ford’s life vest and arm floaties on him.

              “I’ll watch the things,” Madeline said to Wyatt.  “You take Stan and have some fun in the water.”

              “Will do.”  Wyatt grinned at Ford.  “Want to go swim?”

              “Yes!” Ford enthused.  He jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the ocean, scattering sand.  He could hear Wyatt, Madeline, and a few other beachgoers chuckling at his antics, but didn’t care.  The loose, dry sand became wet and firm as he took his first steps in the Pacific Ocean.  Before he could go into water any deeper than his waist, however, he felt two hands pick him up.  “Hey!”

              “You can’t go past your waist without an adult right next to you,” scolded Wyatt, who had picked him up.  Ford scowled, but nodded.  Wyatt set him down again.  The two slowly walked further into the ocean.  When they got too deep for Ford’s feet to reach the bottom, Wyatt spoke again.  “How are you doing?”

              “Great!” Ford said cheerfully.  Wyatt beamed.

              “Good.  Let me know if the current gets too strong for you.”

              “I’ll be fine,” Ford said dismissively.  He swam happily in the salty water, ignoring his foster father nearby, just enjoying himself.  Much faster than he preferred, he felt himself slow down as he tired.  Wyatt spotted this immediately.

              “I think it’s time to go back to the beach,” he said.

              “But-”

              “There’s plenty of fun to be had other than swimming,” Wyatt said.  He put a hand on Ford’s back and guided him towards the beach.  As they emerged from the ocean, water splashed their backs.  Ford and Wyatt spun around.  Tina and Ashley stood in the shallows, giggling.  “Did you just splash us?”

              “Maybe,” Tina said in a sing-song tone.  Ford took a few steps back into the ocean and splashed his foster sisters.  Tina and Ashley let out shrieks of faux outrage, still giggling.  Ford grinned.

              “Do you girls want to help us make a sandcastle?” Wyatt asked.

              “Sure!” Ashley said.  “I’ll go get the stuff from Mom!”  She sprinted off to Madeline.

              “Sorry, Stan, I just decided for us that we would make a sandcastle together,” Wyatt said to Ford.  “Are you all right with that?”

              “Yeah,” Ford said with a shrug.

              Stan wasn’t much of a sandcastle person, so we didn’t try making them very often.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll find that I enjoy it.  Ashley came back, her arms full of plastic molds.

              “Should we give our sandcastle a moat?” Wyatt asked as they sat down to begin building.

              “Obviously,” Ford, Ashley, and Tina said at the same time.  Tina and Ashley giggled.  To his surprise, so did Ford.  The salty ocean breeze picked up, whisking away the heat of the sun, as Ford and his foster family began construction on their sandcastle.  Ford could feel his happiness increasing by the minute.  After so long in unfamiliar and strange situations, being in one that was so similar to what he’d grown up with, he finally began feeling like he might be at home.

[frasier-crane-style]

For reasons unknown even to me, I “watched” that modern Power Rangers reboot. Since the first thing to happen after the teaser is a bull getting jerked off, I decided to fast-forward until some, y’know, Power Rangers showed up.

-Not many notes about the teaser, which is just Zordon and Rita snarling at each other, except that this takes itself way too seriously for a scene involving a character named Rita Repulsa. They’re speaking in an alien language with subtitles, I mean, c’mon.

-Oh, and the Power Rangers suits are nanotech, like in the MCU, but when you turn them off, they disappear and you’re left naked. A tactfully shot, but fully nude, Walter White is perhaps not the epic and solemn moodsetter the director intended for it to be.

-After that--I swear to God this is true--the Power Rangers don’t become Power Rangers for a full NINETY MINUTES. That is the length of Mighty Morphing Power Rangers: The Movie, which features many, multiple scenes of Power Rangers and Zords. This is a two hour movie and you have to wait until the last thirty minutes to get actual Power Rangers. And it’s not a full half hour, it’s twenty minutes, because there’s a bit of epilogue and credits.

-So, basically, you know how it’s kind of lame that Spider-Man 2 and Superman 2 have these long lengths of the movie where the title characters stops being the title character and you get so much of them being a Muggle? This is the first movie and they’re putting you through that!

When they finally become Rangers and start piloting their Zords, they’re all going “ooh, I don’t know how this works! What does this button do?” Like, dude, this is first act stuff! Imagine if they made a Spider-Man movie where Peter Parker didn’t put on the costume until the last thirty minutes and he was having his final showdown with Green Goblin while trying to figure out web-slinging and shit! Insane!

-Aside from Billy, these characters are really bland. I’m sure there’s a long line of people to tell me how Zach being into hip-hop hasn’t aged well, but without shit like that, these Rangers are so generic and indistinguishable. And even Billy is a motormouthed babbling ‘nerd’, not the affectless scientist the old Billy was. Which is weird, because I heard this one is supposed to be canon autistic. I guess that translates to ‘adorkable’ for Hollywood. In high school terms, he’s way more of a spaz than a brain, which is a crucial distinction.

-Because all the Power Rangers content is crammed into the third act, they really speed-run through all the stuff you’d want to see. The Rangers spend all of five minutes fighting Putties, then they’re in their Zords for the rest of the action. This movie should’ve been called Zords!

-And their first fight is in this zero-G space where they’re totally CGI. I try not to be too much of a practical effects purist--I get the American Godzilla movies making Goji CGI because he’s a five hundred foot tall dinosaur. We should at least give CGI a chance there.

When it’s supposed to be people in suits battling man-sized monsters, but it’s just a bunch of CGI being rendered... yeah, I’m sure on some scale it’s higher production value than the show, but it’s just lacking in any charm.

Yeah, great, the new Ranger suits don’t have wrinkles, but it’s just so soulless. Lots of Disney live-action remake energy.

-Oh, and the fight ends with Billy coming in and blasting all the Putties with his Zord, so... what’s the point of being Power Rangers?

-As for the Zord fighting, it’s pretty dismal. This is no Pacific Rim. Mostly, the Zords just act as tanks, firing away at the Putties and Goldar (who... yeah, you know that shit. I’m not gonna get into it). And with these craptacular designs, I can barely tell Billy’s Triceratops and Zack’s Woolly Mammoth apart.

-In fact, the characters are lacking their Zord motifs altogether. In the original, they’re not just different colors. They’ve got little sabretooth tiger and T-rex design elements in their costumes.

I don’t know, maybe something like that is going on with these new costumes, but it gets totally lost in all the noise and business of these cluttered designs. I hate it.

Also, don’t those chestpieces look like unaesthetic hollow spaces to you? They were probably going for Iron Man, but why rip-off Iron Man instead of centering the power coins? Try to find them--they’re just about lost in a blur of glowy bullshit!

So we spend like ten minutes on the Zords fighting, then they turn into the Megazord off-screen with Billy naming it a Megazord in one of those lampshade-hanging ways instead of Megazord just being its name. He initially calls it a Mother Zord.

The Megazord fights Goldar (whose ‘liquid gold’ texture looks like absolute shit, barely rendered at all) for maybe a minute, since this is the big Super Saiyan power-up and not really a phase of the fight. No sword-fighting with the Power Sword or anything. So, again, Power Rangers movie where most of the action is the individual Zords running around Angel Grove.

Also, the Rangers aren’t all in one big cockpit together, they’re in these little capsules scattered all over the Megazord’s body, which seems more risky and a waste of a perfectly good chance to allow the actors to act off each other instead of all being off in their own Skype call. But whatever.

Rita is dealt with by being bitch-slapped into the vacuum of space, where she’s frozen solid, which is another example of this movie not being sure how camp it should be, and also... after she tanked the extinction of the dinosaurs in the opening scene, shouldn’t someone pick her up and put her in jail? It seems like asking for trouble to just leave her floating out there where she can land on another planet or be picked up by a spaceship and cause more problems.

Lastly, for being a giant T-1000 made of gold, Goldar is surprisingly vulnerable to being stabbed with swords. I’m not sure how that works. He’s a golem made of animated liquid gold. How would being stabbed affect him at all? If it were some super beam attack and he was basically atomized, okay, but don’t use the design principle of a Gelatinous Cube and then tell me it’s vulnerable to being shived.

Also, no kaiju blowing up while the Megazord strikes a pose. Fail.

[cursedvida]

"Media literacy is dead and btw proximus just wanted the better for apekind" 💀 joke wrote itself

Media literacy is dead but Mae was a narcissistic selfish bitch for wanting the best for humans while Proximus was a misunderstood poor baby who just wanted the best for apes lol

[ofstoriesandstardust]

after all the interest was shown in my AUs, i decided to share a little except from one of them entitled if i knew it all then, would i do it all again?

swearing under the cut

“C’mon, man. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard the rumors about her.” Payback says with a nudge of Omaha’s shoulder. “She was legendary.” 

Omaha shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer bottle. “No, tell me.” 

“The story goes, that there was incredible pilot, who accomplished the likes of Maverick, by the callsign of Rebel.” 

Coyote perks his head at Payback’s words. 

“But then one day, her and wingman went down in a highly classified accident over some ocean the Navy wasn’t even supposed to be in. By some miracle, her and her wingman walked away safe and sound. But no one ever saw her again, after that day. No one knows where she is or if she’s dead or alive.”

“She just… disappeared.” Fanboy finished with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve never bought that story.” Phoenix says with a shake of her head as she passes the pool cue to Bob. “It’s gotta be bullshit.” 

“I’m with Phoenix. It’s not possible.” Halo pipes up from her seat.

Payback nods, muelling over their words. “That’s always the part that gets me. How does a pilot of that caliber and legend just disappear?” 

“Well, when your godfather is Commander of the Pacific Fleet, pretty easy actually.”

[srorgana1]

Into The Reverb (Kylo Ren/Reader)

Chapter Twenty Six

Your hair whips around the edges of your helmet visor. You love the feeling of freedom as the world quickly passes by, only dictated by how much Kylo hits the accelerator. You squeeze your arms around his midsection, loving the feeling of his muscles under your hands.

You look from side to side as other vehicles move around you. How Kylo can control the beast under you so deftly still shocks you. If it was anyone else you would be scared shitless, but somehow, he makes you feel safe and calm.

He has been doing that a lot lately, you think to yourself. His presence is a balm to your anxious mind. You feel like a more confident version of yourself when he is around. That must mean something. Your heart pounds in your chest. You know why, a voice in your head says. You take a shaky breath as you focus on the chaotic beauty of the rocky coastline of the Pacific Ocean.

You had noticed you had merged onto Highway 1 a while ago. You and Kylo talked randomly but mostly enjoyed the view and the music playing through the speakers. Relax and enjoy this, you tell yourself as you pull the book bag on your back a little tighter. Before leaving, he handed it to you with a kiss and told you to keep it safe. You wonder what he was up to but when you asked all you got was a smile and a wink.

The scenery changes and Kylo turns off the highway towards the beaches. You smile at the beautiful rocky coastline and the cute beachy stores and restaurants. You recognize it from Instagram but have never been here yourself. “Have you been here before?” Kylo asks as he parks the motorcycle. “No, I haven’t” you say distractedly. The dunes and craggy rocks make for a unique contrast as you take it all in. You see the state park sign and multiple wooden staircases down to the beach. It’s stunning.

“Good” he mumbles. You didn’t know he was so close. You feel his fingertips trace across your jaw. You shiver at the touch as he takes off your helmet and puts it in the top box. He takes the book bag away from you and takes your hand. “C’mon baby girl” he says smiling down at you, leading you to one of the staircases.

“I spent a lot of time here when I was younger” Kylo says halfway down the staircase “I would come here to write and just figure shit out.” Your heart constricts at the thought of a younger Kylo, confused and lost seeking solace with the rocks and ocean waves. “You really didn’t have anyone did you?” you ask as your feet hit the first dunes. He looks back at you and shrugs. “Yes and no” he says and keeps walking, leaving you to ponder in silence.

You see the famous rock formations jutting out of the dunes and the water. The rocks make passageways and open-mouthed caves uniquely shaped by the elements. He leads you to one of the openings and stops. You are amazed at the perfect view of the beach along with the other rock formations. The space is slightly shaded and not too rocky. It’s a perfect spot to enjoy the scenery.

“This is beautiful Kylo. Thank you for bringing me here” you say as you look at the ocean. “I’m glad you like it” he says as he unpacks the bag. He places a large blanket down on the sand and then pulls out an additional blanket, a large thermos and a lunch bag. You smile as he settles himself and waves his hand, beckoning you over. You sit down next to him and snuggle into his side. He kisses the top of your head, wrapping the flannel blanket around your shoulders.

“I wanted to celebrate with you someplace special” he says into your hair. You smile at the feel of his plush lips. “It’s perfect. I feel like I’ve been missing out on places like this” you say, taking a big deep breath of salty air. He chuckled and squeeze you tighter.

“I would love to show you many more amazing places baby girl” he says , running his hand through your wind swept hair. You look up at him and you can see in his eyes he’s telling you the truth; he is all in on this. You take a shaky breath as you reach up and cup his face. His eyes don’t leave yours as he leans into your touch. “I love you baby girl” he whispers.

You can feel those three little words brand your heart. You have heard him say it multiple times but this time you truly feel it. You feel your heart call back out to his, to say it back. You can’t deny it anymore. You love him. As you look into his amber eyes, you know it’s for real.

You lean up and kiss him as the sense of rightness flows through you. You would think this realization would come with massive anxiety, but it doesn’t. It’s a calmness that takes over your body. Your heart and mind agree for once and all you want to do is tell him, show him how much he means to you.

You deepen the kiss, your tongue tracing his lower lip as your hand caresses his cheek. He groans as he opens for you, pulling you closer. His kiss tastes like spearmint gum mixed with his unique taste which you can’t get enough of. You hold his face, loving the feeling of his clean shaven cheeks and jaw.

He pulls back breathing heavily. You watch him lick his lower lip; his eyes alight with arousal. You love that he looks at you that way, that you are the only one who can satisfy his need.

You yelp as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your midsection. You gasp at the feeling of his erection rubbing against your ass. You wiggle your hips earning another groan from him. You giggle as his head lands on your shoulder, his arms holding you still.

“Baby girl, you’re killing me” he groans into your shoulder. “Sorry” you say, enjoying the feeling of him wrapped around you. “No you’re not” he grumbles, kissing your shoulder. You smile as you relax into him and look out to the azure waves.

After a lovely picnic of charcuterie, fresh fruit, and cranberry champagne cocktail; the two of you watch the sunset over the rocks. Kylo tells you about how he would come here to decompress and re-center himself. He said he sometimes would bring his guitar to work on stuff in private. You feel blessed that he shared this special place with you. You tear up at the thought of how special this place is to you now as well.

You take out your phone and take photos of the sunset wanting to remember this special day. You feel his arms tighten around you as you click away. “Beautiful” he says into your ear as he reviews them with you. He didn’t notice you took a couple photos of him. You smile as you save them to the cloud, looking forward to reviewing and editing them later.

He kisses your cheek as the sun drops below the horizon. You see random people walking on the beach, searching for shells and unique rocks. “Let’s go home” he murmurs, kissing your neck. You shiver as his low voice vibrates through your back. “Ok” you whisper back, melting more into him. You really want to say those words to him. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you feel it’s not the right time. You want it to be perfect.

Shifting off his lap, you help him pack everything up. He wraps one of his arms around you as you both trek back to his motorcycle. You feel so effervescent, so full of life and love. He smirks at your happy face. “What’s that look for baby girl?” he says, reaching the parking lot. “Just happy Ky” you say, giving him an even bigger smile.

Gripping your hips, he brings you closer. You can feel the warmth of his hands soak into your skin. You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses your forehead. “That’s all that matters to me” he whispers lightly. You reach up on your toes to catch his lips, hopeful that he can feel all that you’re feeling right now. Smiling smugly, you remove yourself from his hold, watching his eyes follow you.

“Take me home Kylo” you say, meeting his eyes. His eyes darkened, a deep groan escaping his plush lips. “Baby girl, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’ll take you right now and make you scream my fucking name” he growls, picking you up and placing you on his bike. “Is that a threat or a promise?” you say, giggling as he grabs both helmets quickly, thrusting one into your hands.

“Don’t tempt me” he grumbles as he settles on the bike, shifting awkwardly as he fixes himself in his pants. Your fingers skim his sides playfully, making him jump. “You’ll pay for that” he says through the speaker as the engine roars to life. Oh, I hope so, you think as you hold on tight as he turns out of the street into the night.

Lets have some fluff shall we ❤️

[junipersdragon]

Center of Gravity

A Gravity Falls Fanfic

(Part 1)

If you’ve ever taken a roadtrip through the Pacific Northwest, you’ve probably seen a bumper sticker for a place called Gravity Falls. It’s not on any maps, and most people have never even heard of it. I certainly hadn’t before my dad decided to uproot our entire lives and move there one summer when I was thirteen. At the time, I resented him for it. I was being forced to leave everything I had ever known behind for a dinky little tourist town in the middle of nowhere Oregon. I had to leave behind my childhood home, my best friend, and most importantly, any chance of solving the biggest mystery of my life.

Needless to say, I was pretty moody.

“Oh, c’mon now Goose.” My dad said, nudging my arm gently when he noticed the sour expression on my face. “This will be a new adventure for the both of us!”

I huffed softly, slouching in the seat of the packed SUV while he drove. “We’re quite literally moving to a town that has laws about marrying woodpeckers, Dad. Woodpeckers. Y’know, the bird?”

He chuckled nervously, clearing his throat and waving his hand dismissively. “So it’s got some… character… but I’m an expert when it comes to that!”

I gave him a flat look. “Please, no author puns. I’m not in the mood.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to find another way to make you laugh!” He grinned cheekily and reached over to the passenger seat, poking me in the ribs and making me squeak.

“Agh!!!! No!!!” I screeched as he poked me over and over again, causing me to laugh until my eyes watered.

Dad started laughing too, and once he was satisfied, he finally took his hand away and looked fully back at the road.

“Trust me, Harmony.” He said, ruffling my hair. “This will be good for us.”

My laughter died down as I fixed my hair, but a pit in my stomach was slowly growing the closer and closer we got to our destination.

~~~

“Ah, just smell that fresh air!” My dad exclaimed as he got out of the car, stretching his arm up over his head. “Man, I haven’t been back in Oregon since I was in my twenties!”

“Theres definitely a lot of trees here…” I stated bluntly, looking around the car to our new house. I scrunched my nose up a bit as I looked at the peeling yellow paint and sagging porch. “And termites…”

“Mr. Evans!” A man in a suit called before coming over to my dad and shaking his hand. “Glad you were able to make it safely!”

My dad took the man’s hand and shook it, his kind smile pulling at his lips. “Please, call me Simon.” He said before looking past the man and raising an eyebrow at the house. “Is this it?”

“This is indeed! 722 Gopher Rd.” The realtor confirmed. “What do you think?”

He paused for a moment, looking the house over with that calculating look of his, before nodding and beaming at the man. “It’s perfect!”

“What?” I asked, shocked. “Dad, that house is one earthquake or windstorm away from toppling over!”

“I can assure you, Miss, the house is perfectly safe!” The realtor tried to assure me. Immediately after he said that, the mailbox that was hanging next to the front door fell off the wall and clattered onto the porch.

“I’ve always wanted a fixer-upper house!” Dad explained, clasping his hands together and looking excitedly at the house. “It has everything we need already, we just need to give it a little TLC!”

“More like TNT…” I grumbled, folding my arms over my chest.

My dad looked back at him, that bright smile still on his face. “What was that, Goose?”

I looked at him for a moment, the fact slowly sinking in. My dad was in love with this house, and he was so excited to make it a home. I couldn’t crush him like that…

Sighing, I gave him a small smile. “Which room is mine?”

~~~

“Ugh, finally!” I groaned, putting down the last box and straightening my back. “That took forever!”

My dad laughed, tossing a rolled up ball of packing tape at me like a snowball. “Good work today, kiddo!”

“Eh, it was nothing.” I shrugged before grinning at him. “I’m just surprised that we were able to fit all your plants into one room. I thought we would have to leave some behind.”

He gasped, putting a hand to his chest in mock horror. “Never!”

I laughed, picking up the packing tape ball and tossing at him. Before it could hit him in the shoulder though, he caught it.

“I’m going to order us a pizza for dinner. Why don’t you go explore a bit, huh?” He asked, jerking his head toward the window and the tree line beyond.

I looked out the window and hummed, frowning slightly. “You’re gonna let your thirteen year old daughter wander around unsupervised?”

“Goose, you’re a teenager now. I want you to explore and grow. Find things that interest you, get into a new hobby!” He paused for a second before saying, “Make some friends…?”

I huffed slightly at what he was implying. “I have Jenna.”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck, eyebrows knit together like he was worried. “Well, yes, that’s true, but your cousin is overseas for College now and… I just thought it would be nice if you tried making some friends that are closer to your age…?”

Most kids my age think the things I’m into are weird.

I bit back the snide comment and shoved my hands deep into my pockets, shrugging. “I guess…” I murmured.

Satisfied with the answer for now, my dad smiled and ruffled my hair as he walked past. “Don’t wander too far, okay? Pizza should be here in an hour or so.”

“Okay Dad, I won’t.” I promised, smiling back at him before he disappeared into the kitchen to order the food.

Once he was gone though, I let the smile drop and I sighed, scuffing my shoe against the floor before turning and walking out the door.

~~~

I let my mind wander as I walked through the forest, kicking a rock down the path every few feet. While the forest was pretty, I couldn’t help but miss Lake Tahoe. Dad and I would go camping with Jenna every summer in a forest near the lake just like this one, but now…

I frowned, glaring down at the rock and kicking it as hard as I could. I listened as it skittered off the path, into the brush and then, to my surprise, clatter against something stone at the bottom of the small hill.

“What the…?” I murmured, knitting my eyebrows together and craning my neck to peak into the underbrush. At the bottom of the hill, I could make out something made out of stone. “A statue?”

Carefully, I picked my way down the hill and through the underbrush into a small clearing in the middle of the woods. Picking leaves out of my hair, I approached the odd statue and examined it.

“Weird…” I said in a hushed voice. The statue was what looked like the all-seeing eye but it was… personified? That’s the best way I could describe it, really. It was a pyramid with one eye, a top hat, and a bow tie with one arm outstretched in greeting. The stone was cracked and crumbling in different places, and it had moss and mushrooms growing on it.

Squatting down in front of the statue, I looked at it closer before humming. “I bet you’re lonely out here all by yourself, huh?”

Of corse I didn’t expect the statue to answer. It’s a statue, why would it? But the silence that followed my question didn’t feel empty, as though the statue was silently telling me, “go on.”

I sighed, sitting down and looking at it. “Well, I feel you there. My dad moved us all the way out here because he thinks it’ll be good for us, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Hugging my knees to my chest, I continued. “But, with Jenna traveling Europe for her architecture major, and us in this new place, it makes me wonder if there’s another reason he moved us out here. Like…” I hesitated, but I needed to put it out there. “Like… he thinks that Mom really isn’t coming back and he’s… moving on…”

Eight years ago my mom, Johanna Evans, suddenly just… disappeared. She had her normal day bag packed as dropped me off at school with a promise of something really good for dinner that night. That was the last time I saw her.

She didn’t come to pick me up from school that day, so my Dad had to come pick me up. I remember sitting there on the curb for hours, waiting for my mom and watching how all my other classmates got picked up. When we got home, the police were there and had to question me about what happened that morning.

Mom’s car was found parked on the side of the road up in the mountains the next afternoon. There was no trace of her, or where she could have gone. Her purse and day bag were left behind, there were no footprints leading to or from the car, and there was no DNA evidence found except for my Dad’s and my own.

The fact that my mother’s dna wasn’t in the the car period was baffling, but it was nowhere near the horrifying discovery of the groceries in the back trunk. Despite the receipt having the previous day’s date to go along with the food, everything was rotted and decaying as if it had been there an entire year. The entire situation was too bizzarre and no one could explain what happened to her, so the case went cold.

But I didn’t give up on her. So, I started playing detective… and part of me just, never stopped.

Taking in a deep breath, I told my story to this strange statue. I’m not entirely sure why, but I wanted to tell someone how I really felt about all of this. And once I had finished, I felt almost… lighter. Like a weight I had been carrying with me had finally been lifted off my shoulders.

Once I finished my story, I stood up and dusted myself off. “Thanks for listening to me, statue guy.” I said to the inanimate object. I looked at the stone depiction and smiled softly. “I think I really needed it…”

~~~

For the next week, any time my dad told me to go “exploring”, I went back to that clearing with the statue. I’m not sure why I kept going back, but I just… did. It was nice, I guess, to have someone actually listen to what I had to say. I talked to it about anything and everything.

I told it about Lake Tahoe, about my favorite books; my hobbies and my interest in code cracking and the paranormal. But mostly, I talked about my Mom. I talked about the things I remembered about her, the stories my dad told me about her, and the theories I had about her disappearance.

“Maybe she was abducted by aliens?” I wondered aloud as I walked around the clearing, poking and prodding at the different foliage with a stick for anything that might catch my eye. Nothing did. “It might explain the groceries and why there weren’t any footprints?”

Of corse, the statue didn’t answer, but that’s okay. Sometimes it was better to have someone listen than to have their input.

After a week of being in Gravity Falls, we finally got the majority of the new house put together and it was starting to look a lot less dilapidated. Dad’s office was now in a converted sun room so he could be surrounded by his plants while he worked. That’s where I found him when I was on my way out of the house to go to the clearing again.

“You off to go hang out with your new friend?” He asked over his shoulder, finishing the sentence he was typing on his computer before turning to look at me.

“Who?” I asked absently before dropping my shoe and looking at him. “Oh! Right! My friend!” I said, smiling wide. I just hoped it didn’t look forced or anything.

“You should bring them over sometime! I’d like to meet them!” Dad smiled, leaning back in his office chair.

“Uh… y-yeah, maybe…? I’m not sure if they’d be into that…” I shrugged before bending down to tuck the laces of my shoes into the sides. Not to mention this new friend was a statue and not a person.

“Never hurts to ask, Goose.” He assured me before turning back around in his chair to face the computer again. “Just make sure you’re home for dinner, okay?”

“Will do.” I said, standing up once my shoe was secured. “See you later dad!” I called as I left the house.

Grabbing my walking stick, I made my way down the familiar path to the clearing. Honestly, I was pretty glad to. There was some sort of “Welcome Back” party or something going on at the house down the road, and I would do anything to avoid it.

Well… house was maybe a bit of an understatement.

Dad and I had to pass by the place on our way to the store the other day. 618 Gopher Road wasn’t a house, but more of a roadside attraction. The self proclaimed “Mystery Shack” was originally the home of a cryptozoologist turned tourist trap that, despite selling plastic junk and paying an arm and a leg for fake attractions, was well beloved by townsfolk and travelers alike.

“Cheep tourist tricks…” I grumbled to myself, taking my walking stick and stabbing it down into the ground. To my surprise, the tip of the stick hit something hard and snapped in half.

“Aw man, my stick…!” I frowned, grabbing the two halves of the stick and tossing them into the underbrush. As I was about to walk away, however, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. A small, dirty black box.

Knitting my eyebrows together, I bent down and grabbed the box, turning it over in my hands. It looked old, like it had been there for a while.

“What is this, some sort of ring box…?” I murmured, finding the front of the box and opening it.

Inside the box was a blue, lozenge-cut crystal. It was about the length of the tip of my finger to my second knuckle and was semi-clear. It was weird, the thing almost seemed to be… glowing.

“Weird…” I murmured, but shrugged and closed the box, slipping it into my pocket. “Maybe I’ll make it into a necklace.” I said to myself as I continued down my path.

The closer I got to the clearing, the further the weird crystal slipped from my mind. I was looking forward to talking to statue guy and sitting against a tree with a good book today. I was getting to a really good part and I was excited to see how it ended.

When I was nearly to my spot, I couldn’t help but notice a low sound coming from the clearing. A sound that sounded a lot like… talking. I froze. No! Not my little sanctuary! Quickly, I hid behind a tree before I could be noticed and peered down into the clearing.

Crouching down in front of the triangle statue was, surprisingly, a boy. He looked like he was about my age, with brown hair that peaked out from underneath a trapper cap. I could tell that he was talking to the statue by the way his lips were moving, but I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. I closed my eyes and strained my ears to listen.

It really wasn’t much use. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, only bits and pieces. But, there was one thing that I was able to make out. A name.

Bill.

After a short amount of time, the boy stood up, put his hands in his pockets, and walked away from the statue. I waited until he had left before carefully picking my way through the brush and down into the clearing again.

I looked around, curious to see if there was any trace left behind by the boy. Satisfied that there wasn’t, I finally looked at the statue and tilted my head.

“Bill, huh? Is that your name?” I asked, looking at the statue closely. I thought about it for a moment and hummed.

“Well, it’s better than just calling you statue guy, so…” I shrugged, smiling a bit and reached my hand out to the statue’s outstretched one. “Nice to meet you Bill, I’m Harmony.”

Once my hand was grasped around the statue’s, I knew I had made a big mistake. The world around me drained of all color and froze, as though time itself no longer existed. I gasped, snatching my hand back and looking around in horror.

“What’s going on?!” I asked, eyes wide with fear. And this time, I was answered.

“FINALLY!!!!” A voice boomed seemingly from nowhere. Cracks began to form along the statue’s surface, bright light emanating from underneath as the cracks grew in size.

I shielded my eyes from the bright light until a loud boom echoed through the forest, followed by laughter that sent chills down my spine.

“I’m free!!!! I’m finally free!!!” The voice cried out joyously. Blinking hard to clear my vision, I lowered my arm to finally face the owner of the voice.

In front of me was the statue, except not. Instead of solid stone, the thing floating in front of me was very much alive, despite how ridiculous it seemed. A yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie, a glowing blue crack along the right side of its… I think it was its face.

“I… I’m dreaming…!” I murmured to myself in disbelief, unable to wrap my mind around what I was seeing. “That’s got to be it…! I-I must have fallen asleep in the clearing or something!”

The creature laughed, finally seeming to notice me. He disappeared suddenly before re-appearing right in front of my face, causing me to jump. “Hate to break it to ya’ kid, but this isn’t a dream! This is very real!”

“N-no! There’s no way!” I shook my head, scooting backwards. “What even are you?!”

“The name’s Bill Cipher, pleasure to meet ya!” He said, and though he didn’t have a mouth, I could tell in his voice that he was grinning.

“Bill…?” I asked. That was the name that boy had called the statue earlier!

“Thats right!” He replied, floating closer to me. “And you, kid, are going to have the pleasure of helping me get revenge on those who wronged me! All you gotta do is make one teeny tiny little deal with me.” He outstretched his hand towards me. “What do you sa-?” Before he could finish, he recoiled his hand and let out an unearthly, ear-piercing screech.

I winced, covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut. The box in my pocket suddenly felt warm, but it was comforting and put my mind at ease.

“This isn’t over, Semiquaver!” Bill growled, but I kept my eyes tightly closed. “You’ll separate from that thing eventually, and when you do, I’ll be waiting! I see and know everything! You’ll come back when you can’t find what you’re looking for! They always do!”

As he talked, his voice sounded further and further way, until finally, it was gone. With a sudden whoosh of air, the silence was filled with the normal sounds of the forest.

Slowly, I cracked my eyes open to take in my surroundings. I was in the clearing. There was color, and sound, and there was movement. But, when I looked towards where the statue usually sat, my stomach flipped and I nearly lost my breakfast. Why?

Because the statue was gone.

[drrrtydistxrtion]

YOU & ME & THE BIG TERRIBLE MACHINE .

((((((((( i believe i was 4 the first time life stopped making sense. )))))))))

tonight i went to the bier haus .  that is not the real name of this establishment, &yet it has stuck for at least four years.  i shared a drink that tasted like my grandparents’ closet, not the one in their bedroom but the one under the stairs that spanned the entire length of the stairway, the one where the ceiling shrank as you went deeper and deeper, the one i was too afraid to go inside because i was convinced someone lived at the very end of it .  when you’d open it it would blast you with this ... smell , someone at the table offered mothballs maybe, but that wasn’t it ...  inside were a bunch of jackets, bomber & leather &whatever, mostly my grandpa’s , &they just smelled like they had been moved multiple times .  they smelled like daly city.  they smelled like the inside of a box flying over the pacific . they smelled like 1980, thousands of miles across the ocean, &doesthisevenmakesense because he probably bought all these jackets after they moved to america .

anyway .  back to the beer or sour or somethingorother.  i didn’t even finish it, we both decided we hated it &gave it to a friend .  idek if i like beer, &yet i would order one, then another, then another ... i would will down a sip, &then another, then another , waiting for some feeling to hit me, or some feeling to leave me ? i’m not sure.  &this happens every time i drink, where nothing happens, nothing happens, ifeelsicktomystomach, nothing happens, bloated to all hell, nothing happens, & then i finally forget how to feel!  i feel nothing at all !  hahhahahahahahahahaahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha!!

i went to cvs & i didn’t even care how in love i sounded .

i’m in love with the world .

i’m in love with the world, but not the world we live in, i don’t think .  i fear i have such a distorted view of reality , that i don’t even know which world i’m living in anymore, &everyone knows it but me .

c’mon _______, let’s get you back to bed .

.

DOES ANY OF THIS MAKE SENSE TO YOU YET ?

I’M AFRAID OF WHAT I’M SLIPPING INTO

&NOW I’M STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

CAN YOU SEE ME?

CAN YOU SEE ME?

CAN YOU SEE ME?

i’m in love with the things i see, &yet they can’t see me .

you’re waiting for something to happen, but the train isn’t leaving the station .  hell, the station hasn’t even been built yet

.

[bebop-and-oysters]

Here's the full transcription of the work!

Author’s Notes: 

This idea was originally sparked by me being on a David Bowie kick, as a result I started to think “hey I bet Chris Knight would love David Bowie!” I sat here and thought, “wow and I bet Chris was listening to ‘Heroes’ a lot after saving the world from a giant space laser too.” But of course I’m a huge sap and decided to use MY favorite David Bowie song (Modern Love) as part of the title because through writing this, it felt like Chris was figuring out how to have a Modern Love. Anyway of course I’m right, I’m always right so this is a fic inspired by Chris Knight- David Bowie lover- and Ick Ikagami who I believe is just the kind of nerd to have never heard of David Bowie before. This is a love story, sort of. It’s a love story in a very loose sense. Once again I have to thank my editor and beta, Dante, love you babe you're the best, thanks for fixing all my errors and coercing me into writing after I sent you the plot and you said “all you have left to do is write it” and yeah you were right but goddamn did I go overboard. Anyway, feel free to check out the spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5QhMN9Tjm7KANQSHUHAtjm?si=939ff1f442d24ebb that goes with this fic! It’s all Bowie songs that I felt fit with the story. Highly recommend listening to David Bowie while reading this fic, it really puts you in the right headspace- that headspace being mine, of course, because I’m always right! Anyway- enjoy and feel free to leave feedback!

CW// mention of overdosing as part of a joke about laughter, mild cursing, use of the word fuck

Chapter 1: Spiders from Mars

On a warm summer night in 1985, Chris Knight- physics genius, Pacific Tech alumnus, womanizer, and destroyer of a war-starting laser he himself had designed- laid in bed sweating his ass off, absolutely bored out of his mind. 

It was hard being so fantastically good at everything; life felt less and less like an exciting challenge as time passed, especially after he had graduated. So he had reverted to some less than exciting activities, namely laying in bed thinking about fuck all while trying to get the blood to flow into his empty brain. 

He thought about getting a snack, maybe some popcorn, but frankly after weeks of eating leftover popcorn from Hathaway’s house...the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. And the heat from the popcorn would only add to the sweat sticking to the nape of his neck due to his air conditioning going out once again. Serves him right for choosing the cheapest apartment in the area instead of taking his parent’s advice and moving back in with them. But c’mon, what kind of loser moves back in with their parents after graduation? Apparently the kind that didn’t want to starve to death or run out of money.

So instead of trying to do anything worthwhile in the middle of the night (his neighbors had already complained to his landlord twice saying that welding at 3 in the morning was a “noise disturbance” and “upset the peace” which he really couldn’t understand because he was fixing the railing on the balcony which was definitely a safety hazard before), he started contemplating what the meanings of his many odd dreams could be. There was that one with the pickles, the one with the giant giraffe that stared at him until he went into a coughing fit, the one where he was an ant and was burned alive by a small child with a magnifying glass and a lack of empathy, but frankly all of those seemed fairly normal to him. What deeper meaning could there be? 

As his ruminations hit a wall, the front door to his apartment was unlocked and clicked open. A shuffle of feet, followed by a distinct dragging sound echoed in the front walkway. 

Chris practically gave himself a concussion scrambling out of bed. Finally, something to distract him! 

There in the living room stood Ick, with some sort of box? Maybe it was a bag. Chris couldn’t really tell given that the blood rushing back out of his head made his eyesight blurry. But there stood Ick dragging this strange bag (it was definitely a bag, it had a handle and everything) through their living room. 

“Ick! Oh, I’m so glad you’re back! I was two steps from the brink of utter insanity and I hear that’s really not good for your skin. I’ve never met a crazy person with good skin, or maybe I have and I didn’t know it because they were good at hiding it….What have you got there?”

“Nothing special, just thought I’d take a look and see if I could rid myself of my allergy to cats. It sounded like a good idea in the lab, but then I realized I had nowhere to send the cat I was working with after I examined the proteins in its saliva. It seemed cruel to send it to a shelter. So, now I have a cat. Luckily my allergy shots have been working otherwise this guy would be very difficult to deal with.”

“I’m sorry, did you say there’s a cat in that bag?”

“Yeah I guess you could say the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Ick! You can’t bring a cat in here and steal all the good punchlines! It’s bad roommate etiquette. Besides, I’m supposed to be the cutest thing in this apartment and a cat is a threat to that title!” 

“So you don’t want to see the cat?” Ick stared at Chris, moving his hand back from the (the bag was obviously wriggling now, god how did he miss that the bag was moving?) zipper. 

“I never said that. Of course I want to see it, maybe having a cat around will give us a reason to scare off that old hag next door. She’s so nosy, always saying ‘Mr. Knight you can’t drill through the wall of your apartment, it drills right into mine!’ Well look who’s getting the last laugh now Mrs. Monroe, you old bitty! Now we have a reason not to open the door! Can’t have a cat getting out.”

“So, do you want me to let the cat out or not?”

“Open the damn bag, Ick.”

Chris watched attentively as Ick unzipped the bag. Nothing happened at first. But after a minute or so of waiting, a fuzzy little head peeked out of the open carrier. A thin little wisp of a cat with rumpled fur sticking every which way gracefully hopped out of the carrier. 

Chris took in the little cat’s appearance, its long white fur and crumpled whiskers, and three legs- Wait a minute.

“Ick, where’s the other leg?”

“Oh, well you see I got this guy off the street and I guess he was just born without a leg or something? I dunno. He walked right up to me on the street though. Real friendly guy.” Ick shrugged and carefully sat on the ground, examining the cat as it sniffed delicately at the secondhand coffee table with the water stains on the top that Ick and Chris had essentially pulled out of the garbage. 

Jordan had offered to make them a new one but Chris argued that it added to the charm of the apartment to have something that was well-loved (well loved was pushing it a bit far, it was practically falling apart). 

“Well have you named it yet?” Chris watched as the cat made its way around to the equally stained ashy gray couch that he’s not entirely certain wasn’t once white. 

“Nah. It’s a lab cat. You give them numbers so it doesn’t feel so bad that they’re part of an experiment. This little guy is X-39476. You can name him though if you want.”

Chris watched the little cat hop around, the lack of one leg didn’t seem to impede it at all. It was quite remarkable really. 

“What do you think about calling it Yardstick?”

“Yardstick? Hm well it’s certainly unique, but why Yardstick?” Ick looked up at Chris, puzzled by this suggestion before his face fell when he noticed that Chris had that stupid smug look on his face that he dedicated to making terrible jokes. 

“Well you see Ick, a Yardstick only has three feet!” Chris was absolutely delighted by this terrible, awful, horrible joke and burst out laughing before hearing the telltale thump thump thump on the kitchen wall from Mrs. Monroe’s apartment. 

“Sorry Mrs. Monroe!”

He snickered lightly this time and turned his attention back to the little cat that had seemingly completed his lap around the living room and was now heading straight for the kitchen. Chris followed suit. 

“What do cats even eat? They can have milk right? That’s what all the cartoons say and I am a man that always trusts a cartoon.” Chris spoke over his shoulder while watching the cat investigate the floor of the kitchen.

“No, that’s a common misconception. Most cats in America can’t process cow’s milk and would probably get really sick if they tried. They can have fish, poultry, and some red meats though. Cats are actually obligate carnivores meaning they have to have meat in their diet to have a healthy life. This little guy is a huge fan of duck which I found out the hard way when he escaped his carrier to get into some of the treats I had for him.” 

Ick was barely paying attention and yet still managed to rattle off cat facts like it was his duty in life, while searching in his bag for a stack of papers.

 Chris was wholly enamored by the way Ick’s glasses slid slightly down his nose while he bent over the bag’s opening. He sort of wanted to reach over and push them back up. And maybe push Ick’s hair off his face as well. He bet Ick would look really nice with his hair back. Chris could practically feel his cheeks flush bright pink and boy was he glad that Ick carried around so many papers so he could watch for just a bit longer. 

His attention was snapped out of his little show as the sound of glass hitting the floor echoed out from the kitchen. The little cat had somehow managed to make it onto the kitchen counter to investigate the half rotted fruit in the fruit bowl while he was focused on…other things. In doing so, he had knocked down his favorite salt shaker. The cat was quite curious but was somehow already a trouble maker. He had the most stunning eyes Chris had seen though. One electric blue and one a deep brown. Chris sighed and grabbed the dustpan and broom to sweep up the glass before anyone was hurt. 

While sweeping up, Chris mulled over possible names for the cat. Obviously the name Yardstick wasn’t going to stick. It was really just another ploy to see if he could get Ick to laugh. God he loved when Ick laughed. The little chuckle that rose up into a full-chest laugh when Chris did something really ridiculous. But no, he was pretty sure even a cat wouldn’t appreciate having a name that was meant to be a joke. 

“Oh! I know the perfect name! See, he reminds me a bit of that song, Ziggy Stardust? Where Ziggy played guitar with his left hand, like this little guy with only his left leg! It’s perfect! You’ve heard Ziggy Stardust right, Ick?” 

Ick stared at him, a bit confused.

“Oh come on, Ick! You haven’t heard Ziggy Stardust?”

“Well, no. It’s not really a big deal though.”

“Ick! This is the biggest deal in the entire world! This is a travesty! This is the beginning of the apocalypse! Please tell me you’ve at least heard of Space Oddity?” 

Ick continued to stare at him.

“Rebel Rebel?!” 

No recognition crossed Ick’s face

“Ick, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me. Do you know who David Bowie is?”

“Well…”

“ICK! Are you telling me that you don’t even know who David Bowie is?!”

Ick looked at Chris, equal parts embarrassed and confused. Chris was practically panting with how hard he was breathing, worked up in only a way that he could get.

“I think I’ve heard the name? But no, not really.” 

Chris was stunned, shocked, frozen in place, he was so surprised that he stayed quiet for at LEAST 3 entire seconds which was a feat. 

“Stay here, I’m getting my cassette player.” 

“Chris, there’s no need for all this really. So I don’t know who David Bonie is, whatever. I’ve got other things to focus on.”

“It’s David BOWIE and there is nothing that you should be focusing on except this crash course I’m about to give you in one of the greatest artists of our generation! Really Ick, do you think so lowly of me to allow you to remain so ignorant?”

With that, Chris scrambled off to his room and flung about the pile of dirty clothes to get to his “special” box of mixtapes. The beat up old Vans box really was useful, Mom. His mother had chided him to throw it away in the past but he couldn't bear to part with it. He ran back into the living room, cassette player in one hand and a stack of cassettes in the other. 

“Ick, welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. You’ll never be the same, in a good way of course! This is just another level of education that is necessary for being a functional adult in our society. Come sit next to me, we have to do this right!”

Chris plopped down on their creaking couch and popped in the first tape, hooking up his headphones as Ick sat down more delicately next to him. Ziggy the cat (Chris had decided that he truly was a Ziggy, the little shit stirrer) even wandered over to sniff heavily at the cassette player before wandering off back towards the bedrooms. Chris leaned into Ick’s space and placed the headphones over his ears, flicking the play button on and listening carefully to make sure the cassette was playing. It started with Space Oddity which was a good introduction for anyone to get to know Bowie. 

About half way through the song, Ick’s eyes closed as he started to really listen to the music. His breathing evened out, and Chris watched his eyes move back and forth beneath his eyelids. Ick was stunning as the tinny sounds of Bowie’s harmonizations escaping from the beat-up headphones filtered into Chris’s head. He could practically feel the crashing waves of emotion that filled his stomach while he watched Ick. Every time the side of his mouth curled up slightly, every time the furrow between his eyebrows would reappear, the twitch of his fingers as if his body wanted to move with the music but didn’t know how. It was…it was almost too much to watch Ick fall further and further into the music. 

The song ended and it continued into Rebel Rebel. Chris hummed along lightly with it. Ick’s eyes fluttered open, looking up at Chris with half a smile on his face. Chris realized how close he was then, and pulled back so that Ick wouldn’t immediately notice that he had been studying Ick. Ick seemed a bit bored with Rebel Rebel but humored him. Chris loved this song, he still wasn’t sure if Bowie was singing “Hot Shrimp” or “Hot Tramp” though. English people sure did have weird accents. 

The cassette continued on through Heroes, and Chris decided to pop one of the speakers off of Ick’s head and held it closer to his ear to hear it properly. 

They were really close now and Ick seemed to be having trouble keeping eye contact. His eyes kept flicking lower as if the rest of Chris’s face was more interesting. Chris probably looked similar but that was due to him studying how Ick reacted to this song. It was like watching Ick experience music was a drug, and Chris was so close to overdosing. 

He paused the cassette after Heroes. 

“How’s your first taste of Bowie so far?”

“Interesting. The first song was very, very interesting. I liked the part at the very end where it sort of faded in and out.” 

“That was Space Oddity, I like to imagine myself sitting on a giant toadstool when I listen to that. Shrunken down into a water droplet in the middle of a giant forest staring up at the sky while the whole world spins.” 

“Hm. I was more thinking about how you definitely couldn’t use tin in a space shuttle. I mean it’s all aluminum and aluminum composite nowadays.” 

“Ick, turn your brain off for a few minutes. This is music to be enjoyed, not analyzed! And trust me, I’ve thought too many times about ways to make an actual tin space shuttle but haven’t quite figured it out yet. Imagine how many chicks I could get if I could say that I’ve been to space though!” 

Ick laughed at that, a hearty guffaw at the pure ridiculousness. His laughter faded lightly as he spoke.

“I don’t think you’d make it past the military but you could sure try. And even if you did, space is freezing so it would be difficult to stay warm.”

“Well it’s a good thing that I’m used to the cold then, I think I could stand being frozen alive if it meant I got to see the stars up close.”

“You’d have to have a special code name if you were to go into space. You wouldn’t be able to use your real name, the government would almost certainly be after you if you made it back alive.”

“We’ll just call me the Ice Man then! I’ll be half frozen before I leave orbit anyway!”

They both dissolved into a puddle of laughter, half supporting each other’s weight. Once again, the dull thump thump thump from Mrs. Monroe’s sounded through their apartment. They both shushed each other and tried to quiet down. 

Ick yawned wide and low, arms stretching up above him while his shirt rode up a bit to reveal a line of skin that Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of till it was gone. 

“I think I need to head to bed, I still have to do some more work with…what was the cat’s name again?”

“Ziggy.”

“Right, Ziggy, tomorrow.”

“Oh come on Ick, just one more song? Please! Please Ick, for the love of God! Please!”

Chris crumpled himself into a heap on the floor and pretended to sob.

“Fine, but after this I really do need to head to bed.”

Chris pumped his fist and wriggled back up onto the sofa, making himself comfortable again before hitting play on the cassette. This time, it played Modern Love which Ick really seemed to enjoy. His toes tapped along to the beat. Chris sat and listened to it too, really listened to it. He never really understood the song, it didn’t make much sense. Who didn’t love modern love? With its quick flings and breezy pace and never having to face the reality of the world if he didn’t want to. Who even wanted the old timey kind of love with a house and a family and a deep sense of companionship that he wasn’t even sure he believed existed! 

And then he looked at Ick. Ick who was familiar and funny and so, so smart. Ick who was always up to pull a prank. Ick who never asked questions about why they were doing something and instead asked how soon it needed to be done. Ick who slept on the other side of his wall, Ick who watched scary movies with him because Chris was secretly a wimp but desperately wanted to see every new horror movie that came out. And it seemed like they had built a bit of their own house and their own family and their own companionship in a weird way. It was hard not to be a little bit in love with Ick. But everyone felt that way about their best friend, right? It was normal because friends were always a bit closer than everyone else. 

…Right?

He turned back to Ick, who had somehow managed to drift off in the few seconds that he had turned away. His torso rose up and down in even breaths, like every fiber of his being was perfectly designed. Perfectly efficient. 

Maybe Bowie was wrong about Modern Love. 

Or maybe Chris had been looking in the wrong spot for a more traditional kind. 

Author’s Notes, End of Ch. 1:

One of my favorite jokes of all time has been naming animals with three legs “Yardstick” or “Tripod” and I do not know why. I decided to call the cat Ziggy Stardust because frankly it’s iconic and I’ve always wanted a pet with heterochromia because I think they're badass freaky little mutants. Also, David Bowie didn’t actually have heterochromia. He had a condition called Anisocoria where his pupils differed greatly in size! It did make it look like he had different colored eyes though so a heterochromatic cat would probably be the closest to a “healthy” cat as anisocoria in cats is often caused by underlying health conditions that can be managed. And, Chris Knight is a dumbass and would just assume that Bowie had two different colored eyes before assuming his pupils differed in size. Anyway, this wouldn’t be a true fic by me if it didn’t include a cat because I’m a sucker for cats in all my works. I was originally going to have Chris be a vinyl whore but after watching quite a few videos on vinyl setup and seeing how intense many audiophiles are, I decided it’s better to just avoid it. I did also receive some input from my mother who grew up with mixtapes and said that young people would not even have cared about records because making mixtapes for friends was so popular. This is going to be a longer form work and I'm going to try to keep on a schedule but I guarantee nothing because I am nothing if not a procrastinator. Please come yell at me about this on my Tumblr : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bebop-and-oysters (it would make my day!) or leave a comment! Really helps me stay motivated to write! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter and please let me know if anything needs to be adjusted!

My darlings! My Real Genius fic is here! Please check it out on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/44236210 (I'll also be posting it on Tumblr in a bit!) and leave some comments and likes! Much appreciated!

[thatlovinfeelin]

Eye Of The Storm - two- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Baby Kazansky OC X Rooster

One

“God, I feel like my head is going to split,” Beth groaned the next morning.

“Well, pull yourself together. My dad is having a garden party of sorts in two hours,” Molly pointed out, pinning back the front pieces of her hair.

“A garden party?” Erika groaned, “God, that sounds horrible.”

“Why do you think I told you guys to pack nice dresses,” Molly laughed, pulling out a lightweight sundress, “It’s to celebrate the success of a recent mission or something.”

“Then can we go to the beach?” Beth begged.

“Yes, trust me, you’re going to want to get drunk on the beach,” Molly teased, “These things are always so boring. We just have to stay long enough to make my dad happy. So look like sweet little college seniors, please.”

“Us? Sweet?” Erika laughed, “Bliz, c’mon. We all know you’re just as crazy as the rest of us.”

“Not when I’m Admiral Kazansky’s daughter,” She pointed out, “I can’t be Blizzard while I’m here.”

“Your dad is literally called Iceman and you’re saying you can’t be Blizzard?” Beth questioned, “You’re an adult, and you’re still going to play daddy’s little princess?”

Molly sighed, sinking down onto her bed. She knew the two young women in front of her knew her better than anyone else. They saw more than she ever let anyone outside of the apartment see. Hell, she let them in more than the rest of their team. She tried for years to keep up a certain reputation, because it was all she had.

“The last year and a half was a mistake, and we aren’t going to mention it,” Molly said quietly, “I’m graduating soon, and coming back here. I got into UCLA’s masters program. I’ll likely spend every weekend here….I can’t be Bliz anymore. It’s time to be Molly Kazansky, daughter of the great Admiral Kazansky, Commander of the Pacific Fleet.”

Beth took a seat next to her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “You’ll suffocate if you live like that.”

“I made that choice when I accepted UCLA’s offer. If it means I have to put Bliz in a little box and shove her under my bed, I will.”

The other two girls shook their heads. Molly wasn’t wild at school, but less than forty eight hours ago, she was out drinking half of a frat and making out with several of them in the corner. She was known to have fun and be wild, yet too closed off to let anyone get close to her. She didn’t date, she just had fun. She didn’t party during the week or during the back half of the volleyball season, so she could focus on school and the game. She worked hard, but when she wanted to, she played even harder.

“Just get ready please? And look like you belong at a very respected admiral’s garden party. You can borrow anything from my closet that you need,” Molly told them, walking into her small bathroom.

An hour later, Molly stood next to her parents, making small talk with guests. Her sweet smile was mostly genuine, as she hadn’t seen many of them in years. But at the same time, she couldn’t wait to get out and go to the beach with the girls.

Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck, her chiffon sundress didn’t breathe either, causing her to be endlessly uncomfortable. Yet she kept smiling and nodding while politely answering the few questions that she was asked. The perfect little girl returned home.

“It’s nice to see you again, Molly,” Pete Mitchell gave her a quick hug, “Last time I saw you, you still had braces.”

Molly forced back the embarrassment that tried to flood her, “Good to see you too, Captain Mitchell. If I recall, you were a Captain last time I saw you.”

He raised his eyebrows before letting out a laugh, “Ah, but I’m a highly decorated Captain now.”

“I hear you were the reason the mission succeeded though,” Molly pointed out, “So, it seems we owe you our thanks, once again.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it on my own,” Pete assured her, turning to get another man’s attention, “I had a lot of help. Molly, meet Rooster Bradshaw.”

Her fake sickly sweet smile fell, because the man that turned around was the same man from the bar. Brad, or at least that’s what he said. She assumed Rooster was his callsign. She let out a deep breath, shifting on her feet quickly before forcing another smile onto her face.

He seemed to have the same reaction, faltering for a split second before recovering and making his way over. He smiled, shaking her father’s hand and giving her mother a quick hug. They seemed to be acquainted with one another. She could only assume that happened while she was away.

“This is our youngest, Molly,” her father said, smiling proudly at her, “She’s getting ready to graduate from UConn, with a degree in engineering.”

“Nice to meet you,” Molly said sweetly, holding her hand out, “You must be one hell of a pilot to keep up with my Uncle Maverick.”

He licked his lips, trying not to smirk at her, “Well, I try Miss. It’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve heard a great deal about you from Maverick.”

Off to the side, Erika and Beth were huddled together, eyeing their friend and the Lieutenant. While they were pretty tipsy the night before, they knew it was the same guy. They also knew the flush that was rising up Molly’s cheeks and chest wasn’t just from the Californian heat. They looked at their friend with a mischievous smile.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to get a lemonade. It’s a little hot,” Molly said sweetly, still looking at Rooster.

“Oh, actually honey, if you could get some more deviled eggs from the kitchen? It looks like we’re almost out,” Her mother asked her, “Maybe one of the girls could help you?”

“I can help her, ma’am,” Rooster spoke, suddenly standing straighter again, “If that’s okay with you?”

Molly nodded softly, “I’ll lead the way.”

They walked quietly to the back door. Bradley held the back door open for Molly, stepping aside so she could enter. Molly took a deep breath, letting the AC cool her body. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before making her way over to the fridge.

“I have to put them on the trays first, you know, make them look nice,” Molly didn’t glance behind her as she reached for the fridge.

“You never mentioned who you were,” Brad, or Rooster, said lowly from the other side of kitchen island.

She shrugged, grabbing a tray and setting it down behind her, “You didn’t ask.”

He watched as she moved around the kitchen. She seemed almost smaller today than she did last night. There was something about this Molly that seemed vastly different from the girl who seemed larger than life in the bar last night.

“You’re in college,” He stated, “and the Admiral’s daughter.”

“You say that like he’s the only Admiral,” She rolled her eyes, lining up the eggs on a platter.

“Considering who your father is, he’s the only one that matters,” He pointed out, voice lowering even more.

Her back was still to him, which meant that he couldn’t see the way she paused. The way her face fell. Sometimes she hated being a Kazansky, because of the way people acted around her, how it changed everything.

She gripped the door of the refrigerator, forcing a deep breath to fill her lungs before turning around, “Look, last night I was just a girl in a bar. All that happened was that you saved me from some very pushy young pilot. I was just a girl in a bar.”

“How old are you, Molly?” He didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to know, but he needed to.

She closed her eyes, head hung low, “Twenty-one.”

He cursed under his breath, taking a few steps away. For some reason, Molly felt like she was doing something that she shouldn’t, breaking rules she didn’t even know existed. She felt like a small child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Guess I’m not just a girl in a bar anymore,” She whispered.

“I wish you were,” He admitted softly.

She nodded, putting the last of the deviled eggs on the platter, “Believe me, so do I, Lieutenant Bradshaw. But I don’t get to be her while I’m here.”

She shook her head and cleared her throat, “If you’ll take this platter, I’ll get the other one.”

She seemed smaller and smaller as she made her way to the back door. He watched as she paused, straightening her shoulders like she was getting ready to walk back into the lion’s den. He could see the precise moment she changed and put on the act. He could see how she suddenly became the perfect admiral’s daughter.

He couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he saw last night really was. Or if he could somehow see her again. He liked the way she smiled, an almost dangerous sort of smile. He liked the confidence she seemed to have as she walked away from him last night, the sly glance back over her shoulder.

Twenty minutes later, Molly walked back towards her parents, Erika and Beth just behind her, “Pardon the interruption, would you mind terribly if the girls and I left? I promised I’d take them to the beach today.”

“Oh, of course honey. Just stay close to The Hard Deck so Penny can keep an eye on you,” Her mother said softly.

“Oh, already planning on it,” She met Bradley’s eyes from across the yard, “Penny said she was going to help Amelia with her homework on the deck. We’ll stay close, I promise.”

Rooster took note of the way she smiled sweetly, but how her eyebrows raised slightly when she turned away from her parents and faced him. Fanboy shoved his shoulder, telling him to cool off staring at her. But he caught the shift again, seeing the prim and proper, quiet and studious daughter melt away to something else.

Her two friends waved at the three pilots before disappearing into the house. The girls laughed all the way up the stairs. Dresses went flying the second they were back in Molly’s room, being replaced with bikinis and tank tops. Molly yanked the pins out of her hair and tossed it up into a ponytail before slipping on her flip flops.

“Do you still have that easy set up net?” Erika questioned.

“Already in the back of the truck,” Molly laughed, “Now c’mon, we gotta go out through the front so we avoid everyone.”

“Whatever, you two better get ready for me to kick your asses on the beach,” Beth joked.

“Did you forget that I had the best hitting percentage in the Big East last season?” Molly questioned.

“I didn’t forget,” Erika groaned, “I had a concussion at the beginning of the season because of you.”

“Yeah yeah, she’s got an arm on her. Faster we get out there, the faster we can play, and the faster I can tan.”

Molly laughed, grabbing her friends hands and dragging them back down the steps. She could still hear the gentle music from the party in the backyard, but it was drowned out by the sound of her two friends laughing.

The three of them made a break for Molly’s pickup truck, throwing their bags in the back. Molly was buzzing, ready to feel the sand between her toes. Being away from the water like this was one of the things she hated most about being all the way at UConn. She traded the beach for blizzards.

“Where are you sneaking off to, Miss Kazansky?”

Molly spun around, seeing Bradley leaning against the garage with two other guys behind him, “Going to play some volleyball on the beach. You and your friends are welcome to join, Lieutenant.”

“You can bring those too, you might need them,” Beth called, hanging out of the window of the truck, “Molly here has quite the arm on her.”

Molly coughed, turning to glare at Beth, “They dodge missiles and fly fighters for a living.”

“And? You fire missiles of your own. Now get in the damned truck and let’s go.”

Molly looked back over at Bradley one last time, giving him that same smile again, before she climbed into the driver’s seat of her truck. The other girls gave her hell the whole drive over to The Hard Deck, but even that stopped the moment they all got on the beach. There was silence as they set up the volleyball net. There was something about beach volleyball, just having fun with friends, that made Molly feel free again.

Penny and Amelia watched from the back deck of the bar, trying not to laugh. The girls played singles, making the person on the other side of the net really work for every point. Molly already had sweat dripping down her face and back, but she loved it. Her shorts were long forgotten on her towel, leaving her in her bikini and tank top.  

“C’mon Moll, slam her!” Erika yelled from her spot on the towels, “No mercy.”

Molly laughed as she set the ball up high enough for her to maneuver for the hit. She flew through the air, swinging her arm with almost too much force as she connected with the ball. Her breath came out as a grunt as she connected to the ground again. Beth didn’t even seem to have time to think about the ball before it was already landing in the sand.

“God, she wasn’t kidding.”

Erika looked up, seeing Bradley standing next to her, “No, Beth wasn’t joking. Molly becomes a whole different person on the court. There’s a reason she was team captain too.”

He smiled, watching her play. Her friend was right, Molly seemed like a different person. Last night she was confident and larger than life, at her house she was meek and agreeable, but on the court like this she was fierce and unstoppable. Even though she was the only one to cover her half of the court, she managed with ease.

“Look, I don’t know why you decided to come, or what kind of hold you already seem to have over her. But between you and me, she has a fragile heart. She’ll act like she doesn’t, but she does. Beth and I might be the use once and walk away kind of girls, but Molly isn’t. So, think long and hard before you get involved with her, flyboy.”

He cleared his throat and bent down to be at eye level with Erika, “I’m not one of those guys.”

Erika scoffed, “No, you are. Even if you don’t want to admit it. Because one way or another, you will leave. She’s special, the faster you realize that the better.”

“And why exactly are you telling me this?” Bradley questioned.

“Look, Bradshaw, was it? I’ve known Molly for a really long time, and she’s never really looked at guys. Claimed she never had time for them. The guys tried, believe me, but no one ever won her over. Yet, you’ve had two conversations with her, and she’s acting…well she’s acting more like herself than I think I’ve ever seen. So, be careful with her. That’s why I’m telling you, because she’ll be all in before she even realizes it.”

“WOOOOO that’s game!” Molly cheered as the ball slammed down one last time, “If I hit that thing any harder it would’ve been on fire.”

“I know, I had to dive out of the way so I didn’t lose my head,” Beth laughed.

The two high fived before Molly jumped on Beth. Erika couldn’t help but smile, their days of playing collegiate volleyball were over, but she knew the three of them would always be a team in some way. Even if it would just be beach games from time to time.

“Oh, you came,” Molly froze the second she turned to see Bradley standing next to Erika, “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Is it okay that I did?” He questioned.

“No- I mean yeah, I did tell you where we’d be,” She fumbled, “Uh, Erika, it’s your turn to get your ass kicked.”

Erika laughed, smacking the back of Molly’s shoulder as she walked by her. Molly hissed, automatically doubling over and grabbing her shoulder. She groaned and cursed, doing her best to keep her arm steady. Beth dropped the volleyball, running over to her friend.

“You okay? Is it dislocated?” Erika gently put a hand on Molly’s back.

“No, not fully,” Molly shook her head, straightening up a little.

“Are you alright?” Bradley knew she was in pain, yet she was still trying to smile.

“It’s an old volleyball thing,” She explained, “I technically need surgery. But I’m alright, just need to pop it back in.”

“Up and over?” Erika questioned.

Molly nodded, bracing herself. Bradley clenched his fists, hating to see anyone in pain. She swung her arm in a way that forced it back into socket. He watched the way her body sagged, and how her two friends took care of her.

“Alright, sit and use a beer from the cooler as an ice pack,” Erika seemed to order, “Do you still have Advil in your bag?”

“Yes, you know I always have some,” Molly rolled her eyes, “Go play, I’ll be fine.”

Molly plopped down on one of the beach towels, motioning for Bradley to join her. She grabbed two beer out of the cooler and handed one to Bradley, holding the ther one on her shoulder. She sighed, sinking down into the sand.

“Does that happen a lot?” Bradley asked after a few minutes.

“Not as much now that I’m not playing all of the time,” She shrugged, “I got really good at popping it back in after a play.”

“So, you were really serious about volleyball, weren’t you?”

She shrugged, wincing a bit as she did, “Yeah, I mean it was my life for a while. It was a really good distraction, kept me from thinking about where everyone was and if they were okay. I don’t know, I guess I just channeled everything into it. Next thing I knew, I was playing at UConn.”

“I was that way with baseball,” He admitted.

She looked over at him, studding him for a moment, “You look like a baseball guy, in a good way.”

He forced back a laugh and took a long drink from his beer, “How long are you here for?”

“Spring break and Easter break manage to back up to each other this year. So, Erika and Beth are leaving at the end of the week so they can spend time with their families. I’ll probably end up driving down to UCLA to check out my tiny shoe box apartment at some point.”

“UCLA?”

She watched the way a smile spread across her face as she looked back over at him. Her eyes even seemed to twinkle. There was a pink tint to her cheeks and nose, he wasn’t sure if she was blushing or if it was from the sun, but he liked it.

“Yeah, I’m going there for my Masters. I didn’t want to stay in San Diego so I picked LA. It’s only a couple of hours, so I figured I could drive back on the weekends. Maybe see friends and stuff.”

She felt her body heating up, but not from the sun. The way he was looking at her made her want to squirm away, or climb on him. She wasn’t entirely sure. His eyes were soft, kind even, but there were layers to him. Like there was a lot right under the surface just waiting to be seen. She licked her lips, trying to break the haze that seemed to set in over her.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked, shifting a little closer to her.

She took a deep breath before smiling, “I don’t know, Lieutenant Bradshaw, what am I doing tonight?”

She tried to look confident, for the sake of the man sitting next to her. Molly didn’t want him to know that her heart was beating so hard and fast that her chest almost hurt. She wasn’t entirely sure that she could breathe properly either. She didn’t get nervous around guys, she never allowed them to have that kind of power over her.

But now she was worried that she might say or do the wrong thing. Or that she wouldn’t be the right kind of girl for the pilot sitting next to her. She wanted the chance to get to know him, really know him. For the first time, she wanted someone to really get to know her too.

Slowly, as they looked at each other on the beach, she began to realize one very complicated fact. She just wanted him.