#mostly because he fits rooster so well

[gretagerwigsmuse]

but i kinda hope they catch us - anyway...

Summary: well, you both survived the gala. if only you can survive what bradley has in store for the post-game

OR five times

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (15.8k)

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, discussions of subspace, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). listen she really internally rambles like...a lot about him and how much she loves him, so like idk. part of 'and even when we're wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay' part 1, part 1.5, part 2.1, part 2.2.1, part 2.2.2

You took a deep breath as you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and tried to hype yourself up. Was it too much? Would he like it? Why were you so nervous?

Because, to be honest, it wasn’t something you’d typically wear - especially not in this color. But it matched your dress and your underwear - and Bradley had liked that just fine. Would he like this though? You fiddled with the bow securing the halter styler chemise behind your neck. 

He’d like it, he’d like it, he’d like - you liked it. 

You liked it and you thought you looked pretty and beautiful and sexy in it and because of that, you knew Bradley would like it, too. He would. He would. 

With a final fluff of your hair and check of your makeup, you adjusted your breasts in the white lace cups - you really could’ve done with the next size up, but it was too late now - and left the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom. You peeked your head around the hallway corner to see that Bradley was still on the patio, the sliding glass door just barely cracked open. 

Perfect.  

Darting around the room to dim the lights was only made slightly difficult by your heels, but they were part of the whole thing, the whole bit. You tapped your index finger against your chin, looking for anything amiss as you ran through your mental checklist. The extra set of sheets in the closet were ready to go - you hated having to sleep in messy sheets - there were water bottles within reach, and the lights were dimmed. 

Suddenly, you wished you had listened to Bradley and brought something stronger to drink from home. His scotch wasn’t exactly to your tastes, but you wanted something to give you a little liquid courage after the buzz from the champagne you’d drunk at the gala had mostly worn off about thirty minutes ago. You glanced outside - he was still sitting out there, his back to you, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. There was still time…

You turned back to the desk spanning almost half the wall of the room, flipped over one of the tumblers next to the ice bucket, and poured yourself two fingers of scotch. The face you made upon swallowing was probably the least attractive thing you’d done that night, but no one else had seen it, so it didn’t count. A smudge of your lipstick lined the rim of the glass, reminding you that you hadn’t blotted it when you reapplied. 

The tumbler made a solid thunk when you set it back down on the desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Bradley’s suit jacket discarded on the couch and an idea struck. The jacket didn’t exactly dwarf your frame even with two buttons fastened to hide what was underneath, but it did provide decent coverage and you figured he’d like it. 

He always liked stuff like that. 

The jacket smelled like his cologne and the cigar he had with Pete and weighed heavily on your chest with all the assorted medals and ribbons that Bradley had explained the significance of at one time or another with the one from earlier that evening the most prominent of them all. With a final deep breath, you crossed the small distance towards the sliding door. 

You slid it open further, so that your whole body would fit, and placed your hands on either side of the frame at shoulder height. With one leg relaxed and bent slightly at the knee, you simply said:

“Are you coming to bed, handsome?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and glanced up from his phone. “That’s a new one - oh…”

You slinked over towards him and his legs instinctively widened so you could stand between them, while his hands slid up to rest on your hips over the jacket. 

“Was a little cold, had to throw this on for a bit.”

“Hmmm.” He looked up at you, a teasing smile on his face. “You decide to throw out all those ironclad morals of yours and join up?”

You tapped your chin twice with your index finger. “Maybe? Still waiting on the verdict for those war crimes trials…”

Bradley chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone, but you might be waiting a while…” His hands slipped underneath the jacket and brushed against the silk chiffon of your chemise. “Now what do we have here?”

He retracted his hands only to unfasten the two buttons previously keeping the jacket closed. 

“Do you like it?” Please like it.

“Maybe if I could see all of it I might have a better idea…” There was the slightest hint of teasing in his voice and his eyes were alight with mischief. 

You bit your lip and then sat down on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Be patient.”

The jacket slipped a little as you got situated, which gave Bradley a glimpse at the thick bow tied at the back of your neck and the top of the lace cups. 

He hummed and shifted in his seat, jostling you slightly. “Like I said earlier, I’ve been patient all night. Don’t think I can wait another second, kid…”

Slowly, Bradley’s hands crept up your sides, getting closer and closer to your breasts. He rubbed the silk between his thumb and index finger, not quite yet meeting your eye as he explored. 

Prior to your relationship, you hadn’t really worn lingerie outside of a cute bra and panty set for yourself. Granted, you had bought something more daring once for your ex-boyfriend, Jack, when the two of you had first started dating. But even though he had said all the right things, he had still practically torn the Fleur du Mal matching set off you, not taking any time to savor how the lace had looked against your skin or how prettily you had tied the bows. 

But Bradley? Bradley savored it. Every glimpse of your nipples peeking out through the lace cups, every brush of his hand against the silk, every pretty little bow he had to untie. He savored it - sometimes a little too much, leaving you whiny and panting and desperate for his teasing to stop. 

“Think this one’s my favorite so far.”

You smiled and eventually met his eyes. “You said that last time…”

“And last time it was, but - fuck. You look so gorgeous.”

He pushed his jacket off your left shoulder, then the right, causing it to land on the ground with a solid thud due to all the assorted military paraphernalia. You peered over your shoulder at the pathetic lump of fabric on the patio. 

“I should pick that up. It’s gonna get -”

Bradley grabbed your chin to focus your attention back on him. “- Shhh, it’ll be fine.” He leaned in and sucked on your pulse point for a moment. “Just relax.” 

While he kissed up and down your neck, telling you to just relax after each one, you found yourself doing just that, slowly sagging your body against his and getting into a comfortable position. 

For a moment, you were cold without the jacket. There was a slight breeze coming off the ocean some two hundred yards away and you felt your nipples harden and goosebumps break out up and down your arms. But slowly, you felt warm - buzzed. And that was all due to Bradley and how safe and warm and happy and good he made you feel. And tonight, you had a feeling he was going to make you feel very good.

You turned your head, angling for a proper kiss - your first one since you had gotten back to the room that evening - which Bradley gladly reciprocated.

“You taste like scotch,” he said and then kissed you again. “You hate scotch.” Another kiss. And again and again and again until he was kissing up and down your neck and tickling your sides. 

Your giggles echoed across the patio. “I was nervous,” you admitted, “needed some liquid courage.”

Bradley properly paused and cocked his head. “Nervous?”

You tittered, not thinking he would actually call you out on it. “I don’t know? I don’t normally wear stuff like this? Was just nervous if you’d like it and just everything about tonight - which I know is silly considering what you  -”

“- I was nervous earlier, too,” he confessed like you hadn’t known, “Like I knew I was getting the award and everything, but I had this fear that I didn’t deserve it and they were just gonna take it away - which like I don’t know, it just brought everything back from that day. And how fucking scared I was and just - it was a lot.”

Oh, sweet boy. You cupped his cheek. “It’s okay to have been nervous. You did something really brave and important, Bradley. And that’s something you and Pete will have between you for the rest of your lives. So now, whenever you look at that medal, just think of Pete and everything you guys have gone through, okay?”

Bradley smiled and placed his hand over yours before bringing them both down between the two of you. “I like that, actually. Beats the alternative.” He didn’t let you linger on that last part and kept talking. “You know, whenever it would get to be too much, I’d glance over at you and see you smiling and talking with someone or dancing and I’d be fine - because you were there.”

If possible, you had never felt more love for someone than you did at that moment. Because that’s the way you always felt around Bradley, too. Just seeing his face, knowing he was nearby was enough. It would always be enough. 

Your eyes started to get misty. “Bubs, my nervousness tonight is in no way comparable to what you were going through earlier - let me finish - but I feel the exact same way every single time I look over and see you, just knowing you’re there is always enough for me.”

A huge smile lit up Bradley’s entire face and he squeezed his hands around your hips. God, he was so handsome. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” You brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. “Now kiss me again.”

He didn’t waste another moment and captured your lips with his own, while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you even closer to him. As you sat in his lap, biting lips, brushing tongues, roving hands, you repositioned yourself and got comfortable straddling Bradley’s left leg, though you didn’t quite put all of your weight on it. For the first time all evening, your heels hurt your feet. But you knew Bradley would want to take them off himself, so you bore the momentary pain graciously. 

Clearly liking the new position, he grabbed your hips and brought you closer towards him, causing the fabric of his dress pants to create the most exciting ripple against your lace underwear. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped. 

“You like that?” You nodded and he did it again, this time your underwear brushed perfectly against your clit and you whimpered. 

“You gonna let me be in charge tonight?” he asked like he wasn’t in charge every time you had sex. But you knew what he meant. Bradley needed to be in charge and be dominant and take control tonight. After everything during the gala and all the memories it had brought up, he needed to be in charge. 

And you were always eager and willing to let him. 

“Remember earlier when I asked you for a number between one and five?” You hummed. “And you picked five…” You hummed again, though less sure this time. “Well, that’s how many times you’re gonna come for me tonight.”

Your throat went dry and your pulse quickened. Oh god - oh wow. Five times. Had you known what Bradley had been asking earlier when he coaxed the number out of you, you would have gone for a much more manageable three - maybe four. 

Maybe. 

But five? 

With five it was a foregone conclusion that you would go into subspace during and drop after. Because the last time - really the only time - you’d done either of those, it had taken Bradley doing something you’d never done before to finally get you there. And that was only after he’d already made you come three times. 

“Do you - do you think you could spank me…”

Bradley looked slightly confused and rightly so. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to slap your ass while you were having sex. It actually wasn’t something you’d ever asked him to do before. It had long been established between the two of you that it was something you both liked and were free to do. Hell, he had already done it a couple times that evening. 

But you didn’t mean on your ass. 

“Yeah,” it wasn’t quite phrased as a question, but Bradley didn’t sound as sure as he had earlier in the evening when he’d fucked your throat and came on your tits. 

Because he had sounded very sure when he had called you a ‘dumb fucking slut’ whose mouth was ‘only good for one thing.’ Naturally, you’d come and he hadn’t even properly touched you yet. 

“Onmypussy,” you rushed out, your mortification growing slightly when all you got out of Bradley was his eyes widening and his cock twitching. 

He glanced down at your glistening core and smiled wolfishly. “Beg me.”

You whined. “Bradley…”

“You beg me or I don’t touch you the rest of the night…”

No. No, no no. You wanted him - you needed him. You were beyond horny and needy at this point, you were desperate to be fucked, to be filled. You’d beg. You’d beg and beg and beg for him to slap you if that was what it took for his cock to be inside you later.

“Please, Bradley. Please, slap my pussy,” you whined, “Need to come, need you. So desperate and needy for you. Please, please, please - oh!”

The first slap hit your exposed clit and you cried out. From above you, you could tell Bradley was hesitant to proceed. 

But all it took was you saying “Green” for his hands to be on you again. The next slap hit the sensitive skin of your upper thighs and lips. But the third one? The third one hit perfectly. And it was loud and wet and filthy. So fucking filthy. His big hands hit your tender flesh and you let out a desperate moan. Fucking finally. 

After that, you’d tried to keep count of how many times he’d struck you, but were eventually rendered unable to do anything more than mindlessly whimper and babble. 

“- F-five? Five times?”

He mistook your response as hesitance. “Hey - no, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, plain and simple. It was just a game I made up to distract myself before the ceremony -”

Your throat went dry and your cheeks warmed. It was impossible to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his thigh. “You were thinking - that’s what you were thinking about earlier? At dinner? In front of everyone?” He blushed and nodded. “Fuck,” you whined. 

Bradley bent his head down to rest on your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I need you everywhere. Anyway I can have you if you let me.”

And without thinking it over for another moment, you said “yes.” Yes, to five. Yes, to anything he asked you. Yes, to Bradley. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“I wanna try for you.”

A proud smile lit up his face and he pecked you on the lips. “Good girl.” 

You wound your arms around his neck, bringing the two of you closer together before ultimately capturing his lips with your own. 

For how needy you both were, neither of you had any problem just kissing each other. Making out like two horny teenagers who were left unsupervised in someone’s parents’ converted basement. Except now you were very much two adults making out on the patio of your cabana suite after a night spent toasting one of you for their heroics. And no, you did not mean how you survived talking to Emily Simpson and meeting Bradley’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend. 

Not now.

Your hands moved from where they were raking through Bradley’s hair - making it tousled and fluffy - to his shoulders and eventually to his bowtie. The silk slipped through your fingers as you untied the knot, pulling it through the collar of his shirt, which you unbuttoned to expose that pretty neck of his. 

Now you could kiss him. Mark him. Bite that scar on his shoulder. Inhale the scent of his cologne. 

While you had been kissing him, Bradley’s right hand snuck underneath the gauzy fabric of your chemise and started teasing the pretty little bow tied at the back of your thong. All the while, his hand left gripped your hip, anchoring you to his thigh, but still allowing you the ability to grind. 

You were whimpering in between kisses, desperate for the big, strong hand digging into your hip to slip underneath your thong and brush your aching clit. 

The lace. The pants. Bradley. 

It felt so good. All of it. Grinding on his big, strong thigh. Brushing your breasts against his big, strong chest. 

Big. Strong. Bradley. 

It was all consuming. Feeling his mustache brush against your lips and his tongue stroke yours expertly. The way one of his hands snuck up your side to fondle your breasts through the delicate lace. 

It felt so good. And you were already getting so wet. So unbelievably wet that there was definitely going to be a sticky mess on Bradley’s Navy issued slacks if you didn’t let up. 

God, wasn’t that a thought? You had wanted to mark him, sure. But on his chest or neck. A bite on his shoulder. Not your cum on his pants. Could he tell? He had to be able to tell. Shit. You needed to move. 

You shifted and hid a whimper at the unintentional stimulation. 

“…Wait, where’re you going?” Bradley stilled you on his thigh, clearly oblivious to your embarrassment.

You squirmed, but all that did was send another wave of arousal crashing through you. “I don’t want to ruin your pants,” the words came out in a rush.

He cocked his head. “My pants?”

God, you had thought you were beyond getting embarrassed about stuff like this, but apparently grinding on your boyfriend’s thigh with only a thin barrier of white, Italian lace was doing you in that evening. He just looked so handsome and you were already so keyed up and just needed him in any way you could have him.

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“I’m sorry, it just feels like I - I need more and it feels so good, but I don’t want to ruin your pants - I can stop -”

Bradley squeezed your hips and dragged you higher up on his thigh, closer to his crotch. The ripple of the fabric on his pants felt absolutely sinful against your core and you bit your lip to hold back a moan, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment.

“- I don’t mind.” And clearly he didn’t if the prominent bulge in his slacks was any indication.

You ducked your head and he tipped your chin up so you were looking into his beautiful brown eyes. He kissed you and you desperately wanted to get lost in the feeling until you had another thought. 

“- They’ll probably have to get dry cleaned now - the pants, I mean -”

But Bradley just smiled. “- And I will happily expense it - hey, you know you’re currently defacing government property? I know that’s right up your alley.” You smiled. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and ride my thigh or not?” You nodded twice before he could say another word. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. Take what you need, it’s alright.”

Given the explicit permission to continue, you resumed grinding on Bradley’s thigh. The combination of the soft lace of your underwear coupled with the coarse fabric of his dress pants was doing wonders against your clit. You dug your hands into his shoulders as you tried to keep your balance, but that was only made harder when Bradley teasingly bounced his leg a couple times. You whimpered. It echoed pitifully across the patio and he chuckled.

“That feel good against you, huh, kid?” You nodded. “Yeah, I bet. I could feel you dripping on me since you sat down. I know you’ve been like this all night.” You nodded again and he clicked his tongue.

You leaned forward to kiss his neck, right along that little white scar. He smelled so pretty and his hands were so big and strong as they dug into your hips.

He was all you could focus on - all you wanted to focus on. Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“Awww, look at you trying so hard to come. Such a good girl for me.”

Goosebumps ran up and down your entire body and you felt yourself get even wetter at the praise. You pulled away from his neck - his beautiful, beautiful neck - and kissed him. 

“Fuck,” Bradley gasped against your mouth after a few moments of continued grinding and kisses, “why haven’t we done this before?”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t know, ‘feels so good though.”

“I like you using me like this.”

His words made you pause, slightly self conscious again. He liked this? “Really?”

“Could be kinda fun for you to take control every once in a while - ‘know you like me to take care of you, but maybe one day?”

It was an interesting idea, one you hadn’t considered too much on your own, at least not seriously. Bradley was so naturally dominant, it just made sense that it would translate in that way to your sex life. But now that you thought about it, he did like when you were a little condescending towards him - and when you called him a good boy. You felt your neck getting warm at the thought. 

“One day, but for now…” 

Bradley pressed hot, sloppy kisses across your chest, occasionally stopping to suck on your pert nipples through the lace of your chemise. You let out a strangled cry as he tweaked your nipple in a way that had your seeing stars. God, it felt so delicious, so good. 

Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. 

His fingers slid underneath the thin straps of your thong and he splayed his hands across your ass cheeks. You let out a pitiful whimper and kept moving, kept rubbing yourself against him. It felt so good and pleasant - an electric hum running through your body - and you had the passing thought that you could actually come from this. You could actually come on your boyfriend’s thigh. 

You wondered what his pants looked like right now and wanted to check, but Bradley tipped your chin up so you were staring into his eyes. 

“Almost there?” You just nodded. “Lemme try one more thing…”

You barely uttered a simple yes when he yanked your thong up so it was digging into your clit. The sudden movement had you crying out, which Bradley smothered with a sloppy kiss. 

Holy fuck. 

Your body tensed and then relaxed again as you rode out your high, before you eventually sagged against his chest. 

Fuck. You can’t believe that just happened. You came riding his thigh. His big, brawny, strong thigh. The fact that what finally pushed you over the edge was the borderline crude or base act of yanking your panties didn’t even embarrass you, it just made you want to come again. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, huh?”

Bradley kissed your neck, but didn’t move or even signal for you to get up. He just held you there against him as you caught your breath. Eventually, his right hand moved from your lower back to the front of your drenched thong. His fingers slipped underneath the lace and brushed against your wet folds. You gasped as he sunk one then another finger inside you, but you didn’t pick your head up from his shoulder. 

“Bradley,” you whined, the word suddenly too loud for your little patio. Your hips rolled against his hand. “Need your fingers.”

“Shhh hold on, sweetheart.” He leaned back. “Let’s go inside -”

You picked your head up and laid a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “What if we stayed out here for a bit…”

“If we stay out here someone -”

Your eyes never left his own. “- might hear us…”

You were in the corner room. There was only one room next to yours. One room that shared a wall with your room. One room whose patio was only delineated by a thin cabana awning. One room whose occupants you had both found out earlier in the evening were Jake Seresin - and Sarah fucking Costigan. 

Goosebumps ran up and down your arms. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “What if I want someone to hear us? To hear how good you make me feel -”

He said your name; it came out like a warning. 

“ - Have them hear your little civvy girlfriend cry out for her handsome, award winning boyfriend?”

Bradley’s eyes darkened and you knew you had him. The only other thing that could possibly push him over the edge even further was you calling him Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. 

And there was still plenty of time for that.

“Fuck,” he sounded completely and utterly wrecked. “You sure, kid?”

“I want them to know how good you are.”

It was like a switch had gone off inside his head. From then on, it became all about you. His hands - his big, strong hands - were everywhere, roving over your hips, your ass, your thighs, your breasts. His lips latched onto your neck, while his left hand tweaked your nipple and you sighed and sighed and sighed, each one breathier and louder than the last. 

You wanted him to leave bruises and marks all over your body. You wanted proof. 

“Bradley…” You sounded wanton, but it didn’t stop you from saying his name again - and louder still. 

Hear me. Hear how good my boyfriend makes me feel. Hear how he makes love to me. Hear how much he loves me. 

“Oh god, that feels so good.” You let out a gasp as he scissored his fingers inside you. You could feel your clit throbbing against your underwear, desperate to be touched there again - to come again. 

Noticing your increased neediness, Bradley scoffed. 

“You’re making such a mess. Am I gonna have to clean you up, too - bury my face in that soaking wet pussy? Might have to go back for seconds with the way you’re dripping on me like you didn’t just come on my thigh.”

That sounded heavenly right now. The thought of his mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your thighs and his lips sucking your clit, lapping up all the slick you had just accumulated. You could come right now from the thought alone, but why make do with the thought when you had the man, himself, so willing. 

“Need you to -” you whined, “need your mouth on me, please, please - oof.”

The words barely had a moment to settle when Bradley rolled you both over so he was lying on top of you on the outdoor loveseat. His eyes were blown out as he looked down at you and you shifted under his heady stare. 

He leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands - his big, strong hands - up and down your thighs. “So pretty,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he hadn’t wanted you to hear. And then, louder, he said: “You want my mouth on you?”

“Mmmm, please.” 

Bradley tutted. “Try again.” 

You didn’t know what he wanted. You said please, you used your words, you - oh. His big, strong hand slapped your pussy and you let out a cry as your hips chased after his hand. 

“Please, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Please put your mouth on me.”

“Much better….” He leaned down to blow on your aching cunt. You squirmed - already unbelievably sensitive and wet from the amount of slick on you that hadn’t made its way onto Bradley’s pants.

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“Come on, be a good girl and spread those legs for me - wanna see all of you.” 

He laid your legs over his shoulders and pulled you closer to his face. Before you could even get out a word or a sigh or a plea, he started kissing your thighs. Slowly, painfully, languidly, making his way closer to where you were aching the most. With a final bite on your right thigh, he mouthed at your core through the wet lace of your white panties. 

“Mmm can I take these off now? Unwrap my present?” His plush lips wrapped around your clit through the lace and sucked. 

You threw your arm over your face. It was so hard not to buck up against his mouth - you didn’t want to show him how desperate you were so quickly. It was bad enough you already felt hot and could feel the sweat beading behind your neck right where the pretty white bow was holding up your chemise. 

“Please, please,” you whined. 

Bradley had you briefly roll over so he could get the full experience of untying the bow on the back of your panties before slowly rolling the lace down your legs. Of course, he stashed them in his pants pocket. 

Before you could roll back over, he slapped your ass and you smiled. “Good girl.” Your cheeks warmed and you laid on your back again. 

Now, completely bare and open to the elements and your boyfriend’s heady stare, it was even more apparent that your cunt was positively dripping. He placed your legs back over his shoulders and licked a long stripe across your folds. 

You could feel his pleased hum against your skin. “You taste so fucking good.” 

His voice came out muffled and he continued at a steady pace, alternating between slipping his tongue inside you and probing at your clit. You tried and failed to fist at the couch cushions - anything to center you - and instead grabbed a hold of Bradley’s hair with one hand and played with your breasts through the lace with the other. 

“Bradley…” You let out a whine; it was only slightly exaggerated. “More, more. Please.”

The idea that you sounded pathetic didn’t even cross your mind; you just wanted to come on Bradley’s tongue.

“Shhh, there’s people in the other room…” he mocked, echoing your words from earlier. “You want everyone to hear how much of a slut you are begging me to make you come?” 

He stopped talking - no, he stopped degrading you and went back to work. It was getting harder and harder to stay relatively still the closer you got to completion and you kept shifting your legs on Bradley’s shoulders. The hand with its fingers not shoved up your cunt, moved from where it was leaving marks on your hip to press on your stomach, right below your belly button. 

Then, you whined as his lips wrapped around your clit and squeezed your thighs around his head, pulling at his curls to shift his focus to that special spot. 

“Bradley…Bradley…Bradley…”

There was a pull in your stomach, a deep swooping sensation and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. The moan that he let out send you spiraling even further.

Five, five, five. 

But you had to try for Bradley. You wanted to be good for him. Be his good girl. Even though he’d call you a slut for it. 

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he said, suddenly. 

You somehow managed to lift your head up, dazed, and watched as Bradley took away his hand pressing on your stomach and slipped it down between his own legs. He let up for a moment as he touched himself over his slacks, before diving right back in with such renewed vigor that you bucked up into his face. His stupid (wonderful) mustache dragged across your clit just so. It was euphoric. You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers and tongue and arched your back of the couch as you came.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck, Bradley! Right there, right there - oh - fuck, yes!”

Oh, oh, oh. It felt so good. So good. 

And knowing that he was touching himself because of how good you were being? How receptive you were? Fuck. Something about Bradley’s mouth was extra sinful tonight. Or maybe you were just particularly sensitive. You were basking in the afterglow and you tried to settle your breathing. 

Two. Two. Two down. 

“Your legs are shaking.” Were they? You could hardly tell. “Bet I can get another one out of you like this. You wanna ride my face?”

You moaned. “Don’t think I - don’t have the strength to.” The thought didn’t even cross your mind to say that doing that normally made you nervous. You were always worried you’d break Bradley’s stupidly pretty face or something. 

He clicked his tongue and then started nipping at your upper thighs. “Shame,” he said between kisses, “bet you can’t even fucking walking either. Don’t worry, I’ll take you on your back for the next one, let you rest up.”

All you could do was whimper. The thought of just laying there as he used you was so delicious. Fuck. You loved Bradley’s fingers and tongue, but you really wanted his cock inside you. Have him fill you up. Over and over again. 

Five. Five. Five. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“Gonna have to carry you to bed.” 

He peered his head up from between your thighs and shot you a look, silently asking if that was okay. You didn’t like to be carried despite Bradley’s numerous efforts to prove that it was no big deal. 

You just couldn’t help but think that maybe it wouldn't be as much of a deal if you were a size two instead of a size - no, no, no. Not now. 

Let him. Just let him. Let him love you. Let him love you more. 

“Please.”

He stood up to his full height, towering over you as you still were relaxed against the couch cushions. God, he was so pretty and so wrecked. His starch, white tuxedo shirt was rumpled, half tucked into his pants that he had unbuttoned at one point - and his cock was rock hard and straining against them. 

You had done that. You had done that to him. Made him so desperate with want and need that he had had to touch himself. Would he let you touch him? Would he let you suck his cock? A whimper escaped your lips just thinking about it and Bradley ran his fingers over them. You could smell yourself. 

“Come on. Lemme take you inside.”

Feeling like a lush, you let Bradley pick you up and thanked him by burrowing your face in his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to the exposed skin there. He smelled so good and his neck was so bite-able. You started pawing at the collar of his shirt, trying to push it as far away from his warm body as possible and more access. 

As you nipped at his broad shoulder, he kneaded your ass with the hand not doing the majority of the work holding you up. It was a quick journey to the bedroom, but you didn’t want him to let go of you. You wanted him to be everywhere. His arms wrapped around you, his lips on yours, his cock inside you. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

Loathe as you were to let him go, you let Bradley untwine your arms from around his neck and sit you on the edge of the bed, only propped up by your elbows. The sheets felt scratchy against your bare ass and thighs, just how you liked them. You peered up to see Bradley already staring at you, a knowing smile on his face, before he shifted his attention to toeing off his shoes and socks. 

In turn, you realized that you still had your heels on - the ones with the dainty little strap you were scared Bradley would break. (You weren’t really scared, but knew he’d get frustrated with the clasp and didn’t want to be out eleven-hundred dollars.) Once he laid his crisp white tuxedo shirt down on the bed - though not without giving you a cheeky smile and a show - did Bradley give you his full attention once again. 

“God, you look so gorgeous like that.”

You could feel your cheeks warming at his unabashed staring. But he was one to talk! There was the slightest touch of pink on his shoulders from too much time spent out in the sun earlier in the day, but god if Bradley wasn’t absolutely stunning with his dress pants snug on his slutty little waist, while his tan chest had the slightest sheen of sweat on it. You wanted to lick him - everywhere. 

He held out his hand and you cocked your head. “Shoes, kid.”

Oh. You raised your left leg up for him to take off your heel. The way you were sprawled out on the bed - with one leg up, no panties on, and Bradley’s eyes darting between your ankle and your wet pussy - made you feel powerful and desirable. 

And god - did the stretch on your leg feel heavenly. 

As predicted, Bradley did fumble with the clasp (as one would only expect with his big, strong hands), but he more than made up for it with the way he peppered kisses up and down your left leg, before switching and doing the same with the right. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” you sighed and closed your eyes, utterly blissed out.  

Bradley chuckled. You could hear your Jimmy Cho hit the floor somewhere nearby. “What? Me taking your shoes off?”

“Mmmhmm, amongst other things…”

Once he let go of your right foot, you opened your eyes and scampered up on the bed - the fastest you’d moved all night - and watched, dazed, as Bradley fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You let out a whine at the sight of the wet patch on them, the proof of his arousal and need for you. And oh god, his cock was so big. 

So big and pretty and perfect and you desperately wanted it in your mouth. To have him fuck your throat until you had to tap out. You felt the slick still dripping down your thighs and made grabby hands at the waistband of his Calvin’s. 

“Can I suck your cock? Please, please, Bradley?”

He swallowed thickly and glanced at the ceiling - the first sign all evening that he was just as fucking gone for you as you were for him. 

Please say ‘yes.’ Please say ‘yes.’ Please. Please. Plea-

“And why should you get rewarded? Pretty sure you told me you’d give me five, not two. Not even halfway there yet…”

Reaching out for his hand, you threaded your fingers together and you pulled Bradley down for a kiss. “Please? Please?” you said between kisses as you pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his hips, but he just grumbled. 

He sat up and straddled your lap, but didn’t put his full weight on you. “How ‘bout we take this off before we get any further?” His hands fingered the hem of your chemise. 

Reminded of its presence, you could admit that the pretty bow at the back of your neck suddenly felt too tight and confining. You scooched up on the bed to give Bradley better access to take it off, but not before he gave your nipples one final tweak through the lace. Being free of the white chemise meant that you were now totally bare before him. And now, it was like neither of you could get enough of each other, both your hands were everywhere, grabbing at your breasts, running over Bradley’s abs, cupping him through his boxer briefs, kissing and biting and sucking on each other’s lips and neck and shoulders.

Bradley pulled away for a second to get better access to your breasts and you took it as an opportunity to try and roll him over so he was on his back. However, your efforts were all for naught as he wrapped a strong hand around your wrist and held you in place.

“Uh uh, I told you that you’d be on your back for this next one. Got to let you rest up a bit, sweetheart.”

He took the opportunity to lay you back on the bed and drape his body over yours, relishing in the feeling of his muscular legs, his toned chest, his strong arms, and most importantly his throbbing cock. In your current position, there was just enough space between the two of you for you to snake your hand down between your legs and palm at his cock through his boxer briefs. Bradley sucked in a breath and guided your hand in his up and down his shaft.

“Need more of you…”

“Need to make sure you’re ready for me first.” 

As if you weren’t ready for him the second you had walked out onto that patio earlier. 

With an expert touch, Bradley started working you over, getting ready and soon you were squirming, desperate for more of him - for more of Bradley. It was intoxicating almost. This insatiable need to prove you could do it. That no matter how tired you got, you could come five times for him. Let him wring each one out of you like it was the only thing he was put on this Earth to do. 

And right now, his fingers felt heavenly pumping in and out of your pussy while you thrust your hips up to meet his hand. But you knew you needed more. And you knew that Bradley knew that you needed more.

You wrenched your lips away from him and took pleasure in seeing how hard he was breathing. The two of you were a hot and sweaty mess and you desperately needed to remove any final barriers between the two of you. 

“Fuck, I want your cock, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Please.”

There was a brief pause - like time had stood still. Neither of you could deny how absolutely sinful and wanton and desperate his title had just sounded as it slipped from your lips. 

Bradley moaned, deep and guttural. He said your name. “Didn’t we just talk about this? You think you deserve it?” You nodded in quick succession. It was all you wanted right now. It was all you could think about right now. Cuming on Bradley’s cock and letting the entire hotel hear you. “I know you can come without it - how about you clean my fingers off first, you got them all dirty again -”

He shoved his cum soaked fingers in your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself and started sucking. Your tongue swirled around his fingertips, making sure you didn’t miss a drop. Fuck, he had such big hands, such big fingers. Strong too. You would do anything he wanted. You gagged as he shoved his fingers further into your mouth and drool pooled at the corners.

“Don’t sound so smart anymore, huh? Were so perfect at dinner. Imagine if everyone saw you now? Such a fucking slut…”

Bradley took his fingers out of your mouth and wiped them on your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. It was sticky and wet, but you’d let him mark you all over a thousand times just so everyone would know you were his. You whimpered at the thought.

“Now be a good girl and lie back for me.”

You shifted to lie back on the bed - just as he had asked. Your head was cradled by the fluffy, white pillows at the top of the bed and your legs were stretched out in front of you. But you wanted Bradley on top of you. You wanted him inside you. You wanted him, you wanted him, you wanted -

“Knees up.” 

Not waiting for you to obey, he held your legs wide open, leaving you completely exposed. You tried to roll your hips up for some sort of friction - anything, really - but Bradley let out a grunt of reproach and you immediately stilled. His pupils were blown wide and his hair was so messy - so unlike Bradley. Did you look that wrecked? Did you look that desperate? You hoped you did.

“Gonna tear you in half, kid.” 

His words sent a wave of arousal over your entire body. Your face felt hot, your pulse quickened, your nipples hardened, and your felt your pussy clench on air. It was like you hadn’t already come twice that evening - you were that desperate and that horny for him. 

And by the looks of the impressive tent in Bradley’s boxer briefs, he was just as desperate for you. Probably even more so since you hadn’t even taken care of him yet. Selfish, selfish bitch. Under your watchful stare, Bradley slipped off his boxer briefs, discarding them somewhere behind him. And god, did he look beautiful. 

You made grabby hands at his cock and he chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

His cock pulsed in your gasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Such a pretty cock, wasn’t it? Seven and a half glorious inches with the prettiest veins and head to top it off. Your hand could barely fit around it. You’d become intimately familiar with it over the last six months and you still never got tired of how divine it felt in your mouth or thrusting in and out of your cunt. It was just as pretty as Bradley. The Pride of the Navy, you’d once called it. You could write sonnets about it. (You wouldn’t, but you could.)

Pulling back from your hands with a hiss, Bradley leaned his body over you and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, which then turned to one on your neck, your breasts, and then your tummy.

“Ready?” You nodded. Together, Bradley lifted your hips up slightly and you lined up his cock head with your entrance. And then there was the one thing you could never get used to: the stretch. Your back arched and you let out a breathy gasp. 

The two of you fell into a perfect rhythm, knowing the exact way to bring the other to release. Once you got comfortable, Bradley grabbed both your wrists with one hand and held them up over your head. 

“Ohhhh, Bradley,” you whimpered. It didn’t sound like you. Your heart was pounding like crazy and your chest was heaving with each breath. 

It was addicting. The knowledge that you had to push through to five. Normally, you got sleepy and sluggish and slow after two or three, but pushing yourself to five - for Bradley - was addicting. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley, you kept repeating his name like a mantra. 

Because nothing else was enough. Nothing else would convey how much he meant to you, how good he was making you feel as he drove into you again and again. You’d never felt closer to someone before in your entire life - never felt closer to God or the almighty or whatever you wanted to call them than you did right in that moment with Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Again and again and again you cried out his name. 

I love you, I want you, I need you. 

Take me, love me, have me. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“God, you’re such a good girl for me…”

That was all you wanted - all you ever wanted - to be Bradley’s good girl and have him lavish praise oupn you. To take care of him and be good for him. 

Please let me be good for you. 

God, you weren’t going to last for him. Your breathing was coming faster, the way his cock was thrusting into you was coming faster - it was all coming faster. 

“How’d I get so lucky to have the most perfect girl in the entire world? Can’t believe I wanted to keep you to myself.”

“Bubs…” 

His hands tightened on your wrists. Big, strong. “Because everyone thinks you’re the one in charge, sweetheart - everywhere. In every aspect of our relationship. But you’re not when we’re like this, are you?”

“No, no - you are. ‘Like when you tell me what to do.” 

Whenever Bradley wanted to take control of something and let you get lost in the pleasure of him and get lost in him, you did. It didn’t happen all the time - not like this, at least. But he made you feel safe and protected. He was brawny and broad and big and strong and in his arms you never felt like anything bad was going to happen. 

And it might be vanilla or boring or whatever, but you loved missionary sex. You loved being that close to Bradley. You loved feeling the weight of his body all over you. You loved being able to look into his eyes as he pounded into you and told you things he would otherwise never say about you. You loved how he would hold your hands above your head and thread your fingers together. You loved how good it all made you feel. 

“You’re so strong, make me feel so safe,” you were rambling at this point, unknowingly debunking every insecurity Bradley had earlier in the evening. 

Tell me I’m bad if only to patch me up later and tell me I’m good. 

You cried out - loudly - as Bradley drove into you deeper and more than ever before. 

“Bet you want everyone to hear you now, don’t you.” He paused to collect himself. “Hear how good you’re getting fucked?”

Your words came out slow, just like every thought running through your head. “Want ‘em to hear how well you take care of me. Hear how well you stretch me out.”

“Color?”

“Green,” you whined. You sounded beyond pathetic. He changed the angle, pulled your leg up higher around his hip.

You glanced down to see where the two of you were connected and let out a whimper. At the borderline obscene sight, your arms broke out into goosebumps and you felt your nipples harden. Fuck, he felt so good. You felt so good. And loved and cherished and full. So fucking full. And it was all you could think of - how full you were and Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“Wanna be - good,” you slurred. The words felt heavy on your tongue, like you were underwater, sinking lower and lower. You arched your back, bringing yourself closer to Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“You are. But right now I wanna take care of you, kid.”

“‘Do - you do. Always.”

You wondered what you looked like right now? Fucked out. Mouth open. Hair rumpled. Makeup smudged. A whiny, desperate mess. What did you look like? What did Bradley see? 

You could hear him talking to you, telling you how you were such a good girl for him. Please keep talking. He needed to keep telling you how good you were. 

How good your cunt felt around him. How sweet you smelled as he nibbled at your neck. How he couldn’t wait till his cum was dripping out of you. How he couldn’t believe that a whiny whore like you had been wearing white lingerie like some innocent little debutante. 

“I could get you to do anything if I promised you my cock, couldn’t I?”

You whined. You still wanted to suck his cock. Would he let you? It always looked so pretty and felt so good in your mouth. As Bradley repositioned your leg, you let out a particularly pathetic cry. 

(That one’s got quite the mouth on her.) 

Rationally, you knew you could respond with words and say all kinds of things like yes and more and of course, Bradley, anything or just Bradley Bradley Bradley and even that one word you dared not even think. But it was so much easier to just whine and keen and whimper. Your back arched and you stared at the white and gold patterned headboard and then at the mirror above it. Could Bradley - no. He wouldn’t be able to see himself in the mirror. 

But you wanted to - you wanted to see yourself in the mirror. See Bradley pounding into you over and over again, your back arched, your breasts pushed out, nipples hard as you played with them. Even your legs over his shoulders. 

You imagined you looked pretty, seeing yourself how Bradley saw you. It caused a particularly loud whimper to escape your mouth. Because that was all you could do - whimper, whine, and keen. It was so much. All of it. But you liked it. You really liked it. 

“God, sweetheart. You’re fucking milking my cock.” You whined. “Haven’t I taken care of you enough tonight?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Bradley had taken such good care of you! He always did. Like you were the most precious thing on earth. Please, please, please. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“S’ good to - me.” Was that your voice? It didn’t even sound like you. 

“I know, kid.”

You could feel yourself tighten around his cock and slightly canted your hips up to meet his pelvis. A sudden sense of urgency coursed through your veins and your senses became even more heightened. With your hands pinned above your head, the only way for you to pull him closer was to dig your ankle into the back of his thighs, right near his perfectly tight ass. 

It was wet and loud as your bodies collided and you knew if he moved just slightly you’d come: you were that keyed up and overstimulated. 

Three. Three. Three. 

But somehow, Bradley bet you to completion. “I’m so close,” he finished with your name like a plea. “Can’t wait for you…”

“Take it.” Take it. Take whatever you want. Take me.

His thrusts got sloppy and less precise, but he managed to pound into your g-spot a few more times before he let out a moan and spent himself inside you. You could tell it took a lot out of him, but he deserved it. Bradley deserved everything. Bradley was so perfect and strong and kind and - he was saying your name, trying to get you to finish with him still inside you. You loved the feeling of his cock and cum inside you. It made you feel absolutely divine. You were close. Would he be proud of you if you came just now?

“I got you, I got you,” he muttered. 

He kept himself propped up on his left forearm, but brought his right hand - which had previously been holding your wrists above your head - down between your bodies, teasing you until he reached your clit. And just like you thought, it only took a little more for you to come in his arms. 

“Gonna - ahhh! Come - please, please, Bradley. Bradley, Bra - ahhhhh,” your last cry was stolen from you as you got lost in the haze of your orgasm. 

You felt weightless and floaty after you reached your high. Your legs relaxed from their tight hold on Bradley’s thighs. He pressed what felt like hundreds of kisses to your face, telling you time and time again that he loved you. 

“There you go, good girl. Such a good girl. Listen to how pretty you sound.”

Eventually, he rolled off you and settled himself further down the bed so that his head was positioned near your left hip. As you caught your breath, you mindlessly ran your fingers through his hair. He has the softest, prettiest hair. It always got blonder in the sun, like he was kissed by the gods or something. You didn’t know how long you did it, it could’ve been five minutes or fifteen, but eventually Bradley let out a pleased hum and glanced over at your spread legs. 

He clicked his tongue. “Can’t believe you’re just wasting all that. All that hard work…”

Your cheeks warmed. He was looking at the cum dripping out of you, staining your thighs. A perfect mix of the two of you - of your want and need and love for each other. Just like a child would be the perfect mix of the two of you. 

And you were wasting it. It was dripping out of you right onto the sheets. Selfish, selfish bitch.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, ashamed to have disappointed him. 

Bradley rolled over onto his stomach and slotted himself between your spread legs. “So, what’re we gonna do about this, huh?”

Whatever you want. All you could do was shimmy your hips, inviting him to take charge. His eyes were alight with mischief and he sprang up from his position on his stomach to grab your waist and throw you back down on the bed, except this time on your stomach. You let him manhandle you into some sort of child’s pose - ass up, face down into the down pillows. It made you feel vulnerable in the best kind of way.

“How about we try this?” Bradley ran his big, strong hands over your hips.  “That’s my girl. Bet you like this, both of your holes completely exposed to me.” He slapped your ass lightly. You moaned when he did it again, except harder. “Color?”

Despite being a little muffled, you still spoke loud enough for him to hear you. “Green.”

Bradley’s hand slipped down to brush against your sensitive clit and then he slid his fingers into your pussy with ease and groaned your name. “So good, look at how much you came.” Your back arched and you burrowed your face even further into the fluffy white pillow. “Such a greedy fucking pussy we have here…”

In and out. In and out went his fingers - fucking his cum back inside you. You were whining. You were crying. You were floating. 

“It’s all mine, belongs right back inside you.”

“Yours.”

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, all mine. Mine to take.” His fingers dragged down your walls before sliding back in. 

It felt divine. 

“Oh - fuck. So much, Bradley.” It wasn’t too much; it wasn’t enough. You were floating. There were no thoughts in your head besides Bradley and coming. 

Four. Four. Four.

“Can’t waste any.” Of course not.

You never wanted to waste any of Bradley’s cum. It felt so good inside you. You loved when he filled you up like this. Maybe he’d let you warm his cock later? He deserved it. And more. Anything he wanted.

Anything.

Bradley had done such a good job tonight. He was so perfect, so impressive. So beautiful. Everyone loved him. Bradley. His friends, his colleagues - you. You loved him. You loved him. You loved -

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, but you wanted to tell him. “Perf-ect,” was all you could manage. Love me, love me, love me more. “‘M close.” Again.

“Fuck, I know. Da - I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.”

You let out a cry. Bradley always took care of you. Such good care of you. Always.

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you realized you were saying his name out loud and had been for some time. It was pathetic how far gone you were. “F-four. Four.”

But to your horror, when you took a breath to center yourself, you couldn’t. You couldn’t get back to yourself. You were still overwhelmed, almost like your body was taking too long to catch up to what was happening. It felt like you were on fire. Like you had run a marathon. Your breaths came in pants and you wanted more, you needed more. But how? If you already felt this overstimulated, how could you need more? Maybe it was the position? Ass up, face down? The throbbing and thrumming of your clit was driving you insane. And Bradley’s big, strong hands and fingers were overstimulating you in a way you’d never felt before. 

Tell him. Tell him to stop. Tell him. He’ll do it. Tell him. Tell - 

“- Bra-adley,” your voice sounded small, like it wasn’t connected to you, but it was still insistent, “I - I can’t do it anymore - please, I - yellow.”

His fingers stopped slowly - not so abruptly that you’d be in even more discomfort - and carefully turned you over so you were on your back with your legs laid out on the bed. Bradley propped himself up on his side and looked you over intently. Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Your eyes fluttered closed.

It was quiet in the room except for both of your labored breathing. But even in your haze, you could tell it was too quiet. 

Yellow. 

You had never had to say it before. But you felt too overwhelmed. Like you were going to burst and cry and that Bradley would be disappointed in you that you couldn’t last. You felt your eyes fill with tears. You’d only gotten to four - if what you just felt could even be classified as four. You’d promised. You said you would try - and you failed. 

Four. Four. Four. 

You glanced up to see Bradley’s eyes were wide with concern. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, what is it?”

“Slower. ‘S too much. ” It had been. But you still wanted him beside you. Holding you, reassuring you, loving you. 

“Want me to hold you?” He read your mind. He was so sweet and kind and you loved him. You loved him so much. You started to nod, but then remembered your words. “Please?”

Take care of me, hold me, love me. 

Fuck. Even shuffling closer to Bradley made you cry out. You were so sensitive. And so overstimulated. But you still wanted to come again. You just needed to go slower.

Bradley’s hands grabbed your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch, and he wrapped his arms around your stomach. Oh, you felt so warm - warm and safe and loved. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, pressing a light kiss across each of his knuckles. At the same time, Bradley peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your left shoulder. 

Had he marked you? You wanted him to mark you. All over your thighs, your neck, your breasts. Show everyone you were his. His good girl. Your cunt was still throbbing and needed to be filled again by him - by Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley.

It seemed like no time and so much time had passed since you’d been chanting his name, since he’d held your wrists in his big hands, since he’d kissed your breasts, since he’d filled you up with his cum. You whimpered, lost in the thought. 

“‘Still need to come again - one more time for you.”

He made shushing noises. “‘s okay, kid. Like doing this too.”

It was hard to tell how long you laid there wrapped in each other’s arms. Safe and warm and loved. Bradley even started humming at one point. The song was pretty even if you didn’t know it. But everything Bradley did was pretty to you right now. 

Eventually, you got a little too desperate again and started squirming against him. The rumble from his amused chuckles made you relax again, but you could tell he was more than ready whenever you were. 

“Feel too empty…”

“Want me back inside you?” You nodded and twisted your head to press kisses to Bradley’s neck. “Front? Or behind?”

“Behind,” you whispered. It would make you feel smaller, more precious, to have his arms wrapped around you. 

“Why don’t I let you set the pace this time, huh?” 

His fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit and you whimpered. “Okay…”

Something about the way you were positioned this time made everything more intimate. You felt more dear. Not that you didn’t love missionary and whenever Bradley’s eyes were on you as you fell apart. But having his arms wrapped around you and being cocooned in his warmth and essence was absolutely divine after how wrecked you were. 

It was overwhelming, but in the best kind of way this time. You were crying. There were tears streaming down your cheeks. And you felt so good. So good. Like you could stay like this forever. Like you would do anything to feel this good again. To make Bradley feel this good again. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

Did he feel good? Were you making him happy? Oh, you hoped you were. That’s all you wanted. To make him feel good and be good for him. You wanted to be good for him. Always. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

You should tell him that. Tell him how you wanted to be good for him. He had to know. He had to know because what if he didn’t and he thought you were selfish? He had made you feel good so many times tonight. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

Because no. You couldn’t come again until he did. Until he spent himself inside you and filled you up. You liked when he did that. When he made you feel full. With his cock nestled inside you. You wanted him inside you forever if it meant you’d feel that good.

Five. Five. Five. 

You were so close. So close to doing what he had asked. What he had thought about all evening at dinner. Did he imagine this as he was getting his award? Did he imagine fucking you like this as you danced? Did he imagine he’d have fallen in love with the girl from the bar all those months ago?

Five. Five. Five. 

It went on like that for a little longer, both of you letting out gasps and moans and whimpers as you neared closer and closer to completion. Bradley thumbed over your clit with his right hand, playing with the nub. Combined with the way he was kneading your breasts and sucking on your neck, you knew you were close.

You gasped as your pussy fluttered around his cock, except this time it felt different. Deeper. Harder. More intense. The pull behind your belly button crashed through you and you felt like you jumped out of your body for a moment. You clenched down on him, moaning as he plunged deeper inside you.

“Sweetheart, you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Then don’t, the words were on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t get them out. Instead, all Bradley got from you was another slow and deep roll of your hips, followed by a strangled cry. He kept murmuring your name in your ear, saying how good you felt around his cock, how warm you were, how sweet you tasted as he licked your neck. Again, you could tell he was close as his thrusts got sloppier.

Five. Five. Five. Almost there. Almost there - oh!

“Bradley,” you cried out, gripping his hand on your breasts to try and anchor yourself to something because you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin. His dick was so big and stretched you just so.   

“Five,” Bradley said. He bit your shoulder and you spasmed around him, before he followed suit, shooting his cum inside you. You whimpered at the sensation, feeling so full and dirty and beautiful, and shook in Bradley’s arms. 

After both of you caught your breath, Bradley slipped out of you and the two of you laid on the bed, heads on the pillows, bodies tucked under the sheets, chests rising heavily as you stared at the ceiling in awe. 

You had never felt like this before. Five. Five. Five. Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“Fuck,” Bradley stretched the word out. He crossed his forearms over his forehead and took another deep breath. “That - that was -” he broke off.

You arched your back one final time and stretched out on the bed before rolling back over towards him. You nuzzled his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. But it wasn’t enough - you needed to be closer. You wanted to have his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to lick where the sweat was beading on his neck. You wanted him to consume you. Tell you that you were good. That you had done a good job. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered back. 

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “You alright, kid?” You smiled and nodded. “You did such a good job - always do such a good job.”

You preened under the praise and started peppering kisses across Bradley’s shoulder and neck. He was so pretty and warm and smelled so good. So pretty, so warm. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

After a moment, he tipped your chin up so you could meet his eyes and then pressed his lips to yours. Without breaking the kiss, you sprawled out on top of him with your legs on either side of his hips. Some of the cum still inside you even made its way onto his stomach with the new position - you weren’t supposed to waste any of it. You promised you wouldn’t -

It took Bradley saying your name twice for you to pull back for a moment. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

You laid your cheek down on his chest and started tracing the freckles on his biceps with your finger. “Wanna sleep right here.”

“You can,” he gave you a quick peck on the lips, “we just gotta do a couple things first, alright?”

Bradley rolled over so now he was leaning over you and pressed a kiss to your lips before he climbed out of bed. He pulled you over towards the edge of the bed and let your feet dangle off the side. “Now where’s my - aha.”

He grabbed his white tuxedo shirt that had been discarded on the floor earlier and brought it over to you. 

“Arms out, kid.” Slowly, like you were wading through water, you held your arms up and Bradley slipped the shirt on you before fastening a couple buttons. “Alright, sit tight.”

He gave the wall lamp to your right another click and you squeezed your eyes shut at the slightly increased brightness. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, before picking up the phone hidden in the bedside nook and dialing for room service. “Yeah, hi. Can I get a large order of fries and two ginger ales - wait, do you have Gatorade? Oh - no, she only likes the blue - yeah, then just the ginger ales and fries? Uhhh room 4114, I think? Yeah, under Bradshaw. Okay, thanks - yeah, have a good night.” He hung up the phone.

Food. He ordered food. And a soda. You were hungry. And tired. Really tired. Your thighs ached. 

“Here.” Bradley grabbed a water bottle off the nightstand and gave it to you, cap off. You took a few greedy sips and then handed it back to him and he finished off the bottle. 

You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You hadn’t moved. It was like you were still waiting for Bradley to tell you what to do next. Was Bradley happy with you? Did he still want you so close to him? Would he hold you? You wanted him to hold you. 

“Hey.” He was suddenly sitting next to you. Or maybe not - you felt like you were floating and had just gotten back on solid ground. Bradley grasped your chin. “Ahh, there she is. I’m gonna rinse off, you wanna come with me or stay in bed?” 

You cleared your throat. “Wanna go with you.”

He smiled and kissed you on your forehead. “Then let’s clean you up first - I’ll be right back.”

And true to his word - and more importantly before you could muster up a reply to tell him not to go - Bradley came right back holding a slightly wet hand towel. 

“Alright, kid, lay back.” 

You flopped back on the duvet, but your legs remained hanging off the edge of the bed. At first, you squirmed at the sudden warmth from the towel, but as Bradley ran it across your upper thighs and towards your still wet core, you couldn’t help but find it soothing. 

It felt nice - comforting - as he cared for you. You sighed and stretched, feeling like a cat. Languid and warm. Bradley chuckled and eventually stopped, but not before pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. 

“All set, come on.”

He stood up from his spot between your legs and held his hands out for you to grab so you could sit up. Then you followed him into the bathroom. He got you situated on the counter before he hopped into the glass shower without even turning it on or allowing it to heat up. 

“You wanna come in with me?” You shook your head. No. The water was cold. You were warm - or at least you had been when you were in bed. And sure, you could have stayed there. But you wanted to be with Bradley.

So, after quickly going to the toilet while he got situated, you sat on the marble countertop, legs crossed at your ankles, and watched him. Watched the soap run down his body - down his tan chest and thick thighs - as he cleaned his body and scrubbed his face. 

Without a doubt, Bradley was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. And he was yours. He was your boyfriend. He loved you. He wanted to spend time with you. And be with you. You you you you you. 

“You sure you don’t wanna come in with me?” Bradley teased you. “Or are you just gonna stare at me?”

Had you been more coherent, you probably would have made a quip about how he was the one with the soapy titties this time, but you just shook your head and said:

“You’re so beautiful.”

You could see the blush creep up his neck at your sudden honesty. The water shut off a moment later and then Bradley grabbed a fluffy white towel off the rack and dried off in the shower. He dried his hair first, making it all messy and fluffy, before he wrapped the towel around his waist and approached you. 

You swung your legs back and forth. “I look too pretty to go to bed.”

“Mmmhmm, way too pretty.” He kissed your forehead and then your lips. “But you’re gonna be mad at me if I let you go to bed with your makeup on…” 

He had a point, loathe as you were to admit it. But instead of doing your skincare routine yourself, Bradley was the one who got out your makeup remover and serum and night cream. Granted, he snuck a little for himself and rubbed at your eyes a little too hard to get your mascara off, but he did a good job. 

You had to draw the line at letting him brush your teeth for you, though, and did it yourself. 

And then finally, Bradley held his hand out for you to hop off the counter and the two of you went back to the bedroom where he threw on a pair of sleep shorts. You were still a little slow to the chase, so while he made the bed with the fresh sheets in the closet, you held two of the pillows close to your chest and watched from the foot of the bed. 

Luckily, Bradley shared your appreciation for hospital corners and tight sheets on a bed and once it was made to both your tastes, you slipped back in between the sheets. 

They felt just as scratchy as they had earlier in the evening, but were just how you liked them. Bradley made sure you were settled before he walked around to his side of the bed and let you snuggle up beside him. His body was so warm and he smelled so good and you felt your eyelids getting heavy. It was a miracle you hadn’t truly fallen asleep yet. You always got a little sleepy after you orgasmed once - let alone five times. 

Fuck - that had really happened. Bradley really loved you that much. More to the point, you really loved Bradley that much. 

“Bradley?” He hummed and looked down at you. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“Come here.” You scooched up and kissed him sloppily. Eventually, he let you go and you let out a sigh as your shirt rubbed against your sensitive breasts. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when the food’s here.”

That sounded really nice. “Mmm, okay.” You yawned. “Love you, bubs.”

“Love you too, kid.” And then he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you were asleep before you knew it. 

Some time later, a soft knock echoed throughout the room, but it didn’t seem loud enough to be coming from your door. You let out a soft grunt as you felt Bradley sit up in bed and begrudgingly opened your eyes. 

The knock repeated - again, sounding a bit far off still and couldn’t be at your door with room service - and Bradley glanced at you and you shrugged before he eventually got up to investigate. Shuffling across the room and down the short hallway, Bradley threw on a grey crewneck sweatshirt and swung open the door.

 A cacophony of voices soon hit your ears and that was when you realized that the bellhop wasn’t at your door delivering your french fries and ginger ales - he was at Jake and Sarah’s. 

“ - I’m telling you I didn’t order this and I don’t want to be charged for it -” 

You took that as your queue to join Bradley at the door and scampered out of bed. Mindful of the fact that Bradley’s shirt just barely covered your ass, you hid behind him. You were nosy - sue you.

Once you fell into Jake’s line of sight, you saw the eating grin on the blond’s face. He was clad in a pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt. He didn’t look as handsome as Bradley did. 

“Well, now, look who it is? Rooster, this order of fries for you? Or Miss Chatty fucking Cathy?”

Bradley puffed out his chest, but largely ignored Jake and instead turned towards the bellhop, who was apologizing profusely about the mix up. 

Miss Chatty fucking Cathy who did he think he was?

“- This for Bradshaw?” 

The bellhop nodded and handed Bradley the slip to sign before he took off. He even left the cart there, which he probably wasn’t supposed to do. Taking a page out of Bradley’s book, you also patently ignored Jake and glanced at the french fries and ginger ales and glasses of pellet ice on the cart. You turned your focus back onto Bradley, completely ignoring what he was saying to Jake. It was like the blond man didn’t even exist to you at the moment.

God, Bradley was so smart, so kind, so thoughtful. He took such good care of you. The way he kissed that stretch mark you hated on your stomach or the way he knew to lift your hips up the first time he slipped inside you. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world - except when he didn’t and even then you still melted and keened in his arms. 

Oh, he was so perfect and handsome and beautiful. It was unreal how much you loved him - sometimes you wondered how he was yours? Just yours? He was so pretty and handsome. Pretty boy. 

His hair was still wet from his shower and the perfect amount of messy. Maybe he’d play with your hair later? Would he let you wear his sweatshirt? It was probably warm and soft and smelled like him. Like his fancy cologne and something so Bradley. You just wanted him to -

“- Jesus, Bradshaw, what’d you do to the poor girl?”

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at Bradley’s face - his beautiful, pretty face - for god knows how long and tucked yourself behind him. Luckily, you were too far out of it to be too embarrassed (that would come tomorrow). 

“I mean I heard what you were doing to her, but didn’t realize you also mauled her - Jesus, look at her thi -”

“- Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence.” You felt yourself heat up at the timbre of Bradley’s voice. His entire body was tense and you squeezed his hand.

He was so protective, so strong. He loved to take care of you. He always wanted to take care of you. 

Take care of you. Take you. Take you. Take you. 

“Apologize.” His voice was like steel. “Now.”

Jake looked like he wanted to scoff or even laugh, but something in Bradley’s face must have scared him. “Fine, fine,” he turned to look at you, “my sincere apologies, darlin.’” You didn’t appreciate the nickname and neither did Bradley judging on the growl he let out. “Alright, Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry for any inappropriate comments I may have directed towards you, okay?” You glanced up at Bradley and then fleetingly back at Jake before nodding. 

“Alright, good - just promise you’ll knock twice on the wall if there’s going to be an encore, so I can know if I need to change rooms or not - enjoy the -” Bradley slammed the door shut in his face “- fries!”

“Fuck off,” he muttered and took your hand. It might have been a bit overkill for the short trip back to bed, but you couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry about that, you good?” You nodded. 

The room service cart rattled as it made the trip further in the room and your mouth watered at the smell of the fries. You failed to stifle a giggle once you heard Bradley’s stomach growl. 

“Hey,” he exclaimed, “you’re the one that made me work up an appetite!”

Both of you sat on the bed and got situated with your sodas on each nightstand and laid the fries between the two of you. For the first time, you noticed Bradley had turned the TV on low and watched as the closed captioning ran across the bottom of the screen. 

“Moonstruck?” He turned towards you and nodded. “I didn’t even hear it.”

He blushed. “You were pretty knocked out.”

You wrapped your legs around Bradley’s under the covers. “Well, no one’s ever made me feel like that before…”

“Oh, really?” He looked too cocky - though you supposed it may have had some merit that night. You threw a fry at him. “Hey, these are eighteen dollar fries, champ.” You threw another one, which in turn made Bradley take the plate onto his side of the king-sized bed. “Miss Moneybags thinks we can just waste these…” he muttered.

You giggled. You spent the next few minutes wordlessly holding out your hand, waiting for Bradley to give you a couple fries until he got tired of it and just gave you back the plate. It was amazing how half a plate of fries and some ginger ale could have you feeling like your normal self again. You still couldn’t get over how spacey and out of it you had been. The two of you needed to talk about it, do a debrief of sorts.

Trying to get his full attention, you pressed your foot against Bradley’s thigh under the covers. “Owww, Jesus fuck - your feet are cold.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, but continued rubbing them up and down Bradley’s shins. He made a funny face, but kept his eyes on the movie, trying to play it cool. 

You then handed him the plate of french fries balancing precariously on your side of the bed. Once the plate was placed on the nightstand, Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. A huge rush of affection surged through you for the man beside you. 

He just made you happy. Every little thing about him. He made you happy. He made you better. 

“I like when you take care of me.” Your face was buried so deeply in his chest, you didn’t think he had heard you until he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You tilted your head up to look at him. “You’re always so good to me. Make me feel so safe. Never trusted anyone else enough to do that.”

Bradley blushed. “Well, I - I was worried it was too much sometimes and I liked when you told me to slow down - well, liked is the wrong word, but I’m -” he cleared his throat, “we’ve never had to do that, but I’m glad you said something.”

“I am too. Like I said, you always make me feel safe.”

The two of you turned your focus back to the movie. It was your favorite part - Loretta was waiting for Ronny at Lincoln Center. It was all so romantic: La Boheme and Christmas lights -

Bradley cleared his throat, but kept watching the TV. “I know we don’t do that a lot…” That was putting things mildly. “But I really liked it - making you feel good - because it makes me feel go -”

“- You can say it turned you on, Bradley. It was rather obvious.” He finally turned to look at you. His cheeks were red - something you wouldn’t have found possible after all you had done together that evening. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well…I’m pretty sure everyone in our hallway could hear how much it turned you on, so don’t think that’ll matter too much...” 

Your mouth gaped open in shock and then you both dissolved into giggles. Your hands snuck under the covers and tickled Bradley’s sides, getting even more giggles out of him and he quickly followed suit. 

“And can I - Bradley!” He stopped tickling you, but you had to take a breath to control your giggling. “Can I tell you something else?” He hummed. “I liked imagining you were watching us in the mirror above the bed.”

A smile slowly crept across his face. “Really?”

“Mmmhhmm. ‘Kept thinking about what I looked like, what you looked like - all of it.” You felt your cheeks heating up at the thought. You had a full length mirror in your walk-in closet that could definitely provide a different point of view. 

It was like Bradley had read your thoughts when he said: “Maybe we can figure out something for our anniversary…”

“Six months.”

He kissed you. “Six months.”

“Are you gonna give me six orgasms then?” You wouldn't make it to seven months in your relationship if Bradley tried to give you six orgasms. 

“I don’t know if you’re ready for that, kid.”

You giggled. “Probably not.” 

The two of you went back to mindlessly snacking on your fries and watching the movie. The fries were absolutely delicious and you were tickled that they remembered to give you mayo, something Bradley always made fun of you for liking. 

By now, Loretta had found her father at intermission and both of them agreed not to have seen each other. Your favorite part was coming up soon, but seeing the awkward scene in the movie, you couldn’t help, but think of your own similar moment from earlier. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with Jake...”

Bradley’s jaw twitched and he took a long sip of his ginger ale before replying. “‘s not your fault Hangman’s an ass.” 

“Still, I feel bad.” Your voice came out small. 

“You,” he kissed your cheek, “are absolutely perfect and,” he kissed your nose, “I will gladly take any teasing Hangman sends my way if it means I get to think of you like that again.” He kissed your lips. “Got it?”

You ducked your head. “Got it.”

“Alright, good. Now there’s something really important I need to talk to you about…”

The impish smile on Bradley’s face prevented you from truly spiraling and instead you couldn’t help but giggle. “Go on.”

“How can I get you to wear that dress for me again? Because - not that I’m complaining - but I didn’t even get to take it off y - hey!” 

You slid your hands underneath the duvet and started tickling Bradley’s sides in earnest. He soon joined in, attacking you instead.

The sound of your collective laughter and giggles and shrieks would surely keep your neighbors up for a little longer still. 

----------------

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast delivered to your room - thankfully not by the same busboy - you supervised the bellhops as they put your various garment bags and assorted weekenders into the Bronco while Bradley checked out.

It had been a hell of a weekend. You had fucking ran Bradley ragged last night, to say nothing about the sloppy blow job he’d finally let you give him that morning. He had gotten an award, gotten to dance with you, gotten a slightly better handle on his nerves, and even gotten to one-up Hangman. 

So, in Bradley’s books it was a win and he was more than happy to sign for the hundred and fifty dollars worth of room charges you’d both racked up over the last two days. He even got three times the points for it on his card. 

From beside him at the checkout counter, Maverick cleared his throat. “So, I heard you kids had a good time last night.” Bradley froze, but Maverick just continued looking over his bill. 

Fuck. Bradley had never had parents around to catch him sneaking around or having sex, but this very much felt like he had. He was going to get so much shit now. Because Hangman he could handle, but Mav? 

Mav would probably go off on him about respecting girls and not calling them degrading names while having sex - nevermind that the girl in question liked to be called a pathetic slut or a whiny little whore in bed.  

Plus, Bradley hadn’t thought he had been that loud, right? He didn’t know where Maverick and Penny had been staying last night, but there wasn’t a room on the other side of yours and there was no way it traveled further down the hallway, right? 

(Though to be fair, you had elected to have room service for breakfast due to the smattering of marks Bradley had left on your neck and upper thighs. Because Jake hadn’t necessarily been wrong when he said it looked like Bradley had mauled you. It was another reason you had elected to supervise the luggage - outside. Alone.)

It felt like there were a handful of cotton balls in his mouth. “Wha - where’d you hear that?” 

“Penny?” Maverick said as he looked at Bradley like he had seven heads. “She mentioned dancing with you and how nice of a time you were having considering all the - well, all the stress and pageantry.” 

“Oh.” His cheeks were burning. “Yeah, yeah. Great time last night. Good time.” 

“Yeah…” He then said how nice it had been to spend time with you, too. “Where is she by the way? We missed you guys at breakfast.”

The two men finished up with the desk clerk and then made their way across the lobby to where Penny was standing. You were still outside. 

“Oh, we uhh got room service. Had a bit of a lie-in.”

Penny chuckled. “Bet you did - hey, you know Hangman was complaining about some noise last night to everyone at breakfast earlier. You hear anything about -”

“- Oh shit, I gotta go. The car’s ready.” He had no idea if the car was ready. “But I’ll talk to you guys later, nice to see you both. Have a good weekend.”

And before either of them could protest to the kiss Bradley laid on both their foreheads, he was already halfway across the lobby and hellbent on getting to the safety of you and his car. 

Yup. His parents had heard him having sex. Monday morning was sure to be fun. 

Outside, Bradley searched the valet stand for the Bronco and saw it - and you - further down the line behind a navy Lexus. You weren’t in the car yet and looked to be reading over something on your phone. 

“All set,” Bradley called out and you glanced up at him and slipped your phone into your pocket, watching him as he made his way towards you. 

You were dressed casually in your same denim shorts and another button down, which was sticking out from underneath his crew neck sweatshirt. The sunglasses perched on the top of your head only added to your artfully disheveled appearance. Though, tragically, the marks on your neck and chest were covered. 

“What was the damage?” you asked, referring to the room charges. 

Bradley pecked you on the lips. “One fifty.”

“Not awful.”

“Blame the eggs benedict for breakfast.” They had been worth every penny for the record. “All set with the bags?”

“Yup,” you popped the p. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

You leaned back against the passenger door and Bradley crowded into your space before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. He couldn’t resist you. Everything about you made him so happy. Who else wanted to spend the day together after being attached at the hip all weekend?

“Can we go back to yours? Take a nap?” Bradley liked how the sun hit your living room in the  late afternoon. There was nothing like snuggling up with you on your couch and watching football on a Sunday afternoon. You had the prettiest candles and softest throw blankets at your place, too. He’d have to get some for the house eventually, but was more than happy to hunker down at your place today. 

You nodded and looked exceptionally pleased he had even brought it up. “And I can finally take care of you, bubs.”

There was enough innuendo in that sentence to stop him cold. “You’ve taken care of me plenty this weekend, I need to rest up.”

A gasp of faux indignation slipped past your lips. “And here I was talking about the new sheet masks I got, all while you’re planning to debauch me again!”

Bradley chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before opening your door and waiting for you to get situated in the car. He wheeled around the front of the car to his own side and got in. 

“Debauch is a strong word, no?” He started the car and turned up the radio. “Been reading too many romance novels lately?”

“I’m never letting you use my Kindle again…” 

He laughed. “Fine, fine. Lemme just take you home, kid, and we can discuss the semantics behind debauched and defiled all you want.”

an: thanks to everyone for reading and all the positive comments and feedback about the teaser the last few days! i'd be remiss if i didn't thank @sometimesanalice, @heartsofminds, @howdysebby, @notroosterbradshaw, @dissonannce, @cherrycola27, and @ofstoriesandstardust for liking and giving me all caps feedback on all the very random screenshots i've sent you guys over the last couple weeks! the next thing i'm going to post for these two is an epistolary while bradley's deployed! x jordan

[gee-arid]

ok, sorry if question is a bit long and if you have answered, please put the link for me to see please. Well... what are the names of the heroes? What was each heroe's first choice? (I mean the ladybug and cat holder). I know that Marinette is with the Fox and Ivan with the turtle, but for some reason I think that if they swap it would combine more (I speak more in symbolism, ivan who cannot lie with the "miraculous of lie"). What is the weapon of each carrier? About the turtle and Ivan, I think a purplish blue would match more (that leatherback turtle). What are the camouflaged forms of each miraculous? Do you have the reason why every person has every miraculous?

A big ask, but thats okay! I'd love to answer! Note that some answers like names and weapons are subject to change, im not great with names and im less familliar with some characters than others so, opinions and other ideas are awesome :)

Names and weapons, left to right:

Aliase Rouges (red wings), Cartoony sledge hammer

Veilluese (night light), Grappling hook

Bison? Hyland?, Guitar- its electric but doesnt have to be plugged in..

Adora (play on Adore), Frisbee

Ouroboros, Mirror shield (play on the medusa myth)

Tack (to temporarily fasten something together), Big Needle

Captain Stinger (shortened to Sting), Cutlass

Jockey?, Reins? maybe a whip

Alectryon, rooster body (i guess?)

Jack Rabbit (shortened to Jack), Pickaxe

Ridley (a type of turtle), Detatched shields- Bonus purpley-blue version: honestly it works just as well.

Tora (Japanese for tiger, i think), Sythe

R.A.T (acronym for Rodent Assist Team? idk, funny bit based on pokemons F.E.A.R strat lol, also sounds like a dj name??. also based on his purpose being mostly assisting pedestrians), Glow sticks (almost like a pair of lightsabers, without the deadliness. Basically glowing battons)

Boar, Boomerang (shaped like boar tusks).

Cirrus (a type of cloud, Aroure and Mirelle share the name and the miraculous), Lightning rod/ wind sock

Caprix (Play on Caprine), Chunky roller blades

Gibbon? (a type of monkey), one of those silly stretchy sticky hands

Reasons for each holder are here!

First choices are also listed there, if there isnt an alternative listed, they either had the same idea or no strong preference for a different holder. Regarding swapping holders based on symbolism (i.e. Ivan with the fox, Mari with the turtle) that would be super cool and i may draw them at some point in the future, but wouldn't fit with my au. This is because my bug and cat holders choose them based on preexisting relationships, traits, and talents.

Camouflaged forms are these:

Struggled with Alyas rabbit miraculous tbh, it doesnt quite fit with my au for it to stay a pocket watch anyway (the Rabbits power being swapped from Burrow in a time sense, to Burrow in a dig way) so i guess its normal activated form would be some kind of keychain? Alyas disguise currently is a tamogachi :)

Nino wears the mouse necklace wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

Max's snake bracelet turns into a smart watch.

Markovs claw connects to his existing claws, and mimics what claws he already has.

Mirelle and Aroure have similar chokers with the charm changed. Aroure has the lightning bolt, Mirelle has the rain drop. They have the chokers replicated by comission with Marinette so they can swap the actual miraculous between them when needed.

Sabrinas sunglasses are prescription. They could also be just normal glasses, no black tint, when appropriate.

Marcs ring, where rainbow, is iridescent!

The butterfly and peacock are still unavailable to our heroes.

[vedgie-demynm]

BEHOLD…

MY MYTHSWAP AU!!!

So, in this Au, Crafty is the only non-mythical critter, while the other seven are all different kinds of mythical creatures!!!

Here’s each character here!!!

Even if Crafty is a plain ol’ pony in this au, they’re still just as important and loving as the others; in fact, they’re the ✨protagonist✨! They stumbled their way into the Realm of the Myths while taking a stroll as they thought about somewhere they could paint, before they met DogDay and Bobby in the woods. During their three years in the Realm of the Myths, Crafty’s been careful, they’ve been loved, and they’re learning more each day!

DogDay is a Werehound, but instead of every full moon, it’s every Solar Eclipse he turns into a monster, while every Lunar Eclipse, he’s your good ol’ normal sun dog!

His younger sibling, CatNap, is a Sphinx, well, except without the “human face” part, lol… Much like his brother, they, too, can turn into a monster, except it’s more at will, and mostly during waxing crescent moons!

Bobby Bearhug is an Onikuma, although, she did use to be an average critter, like Crafty. She, along with Picky, brings in food for the others every night. She stays close by with CatNap because when she became a demon, he was right there by her side… d’awww!

Kickin’ Chicken is a Cockatrice, and since it doesn’t really specify what kind of dragon the rooster has to be, he’s part leviathan! He’s an expert at surfing, and is basically the “rich, popular kid” trope (except he’s the sweetest to his friends!) He and Bubba were best friends ever since they were toddlers, and Kickin wouldn’t want their flame to extinguish any time soon! He even talks about many different themes whilst baking with his sister, so that he doesn’t get too bored.

Bubba Bubbaphant is a Siren (mainly because none of the mythical elephants didn’t really fit ToT), but instead of singing and testing the limits of his beautiful voice (/j), he infodumps about one’s interests to try reeling them in! The nerd’s a bit meaner in this AU, since ocean sirens are usually that way, but he can tolerate his friends!

Picky Piggy is a Boar; she’s pretty violent, but that doesn’t stop her from having fun with her friends! In fact, she uses her violent tendencies to her advantage whenever she cooks! She’s Crafty’s best friend, and she’s the one who made them their “horn” out of a party hat! Picky’s the (adoptive) older sister of Kickin, and she makes sure he’s healthy, both physically and psychologically! (What a sweet sister… sob…)

And last, but DEFINITELY not the least, Hoppy Hopscotch, the jumping Jackalope! She’s pretty mischievous, in fact, to the point where DogDay made her own Time Out Chair™️! She even steals all of the coffee sometimes, so that she can have more energy than when she’s normally hyperactive; but, she is patient whenever she needs to — in fact, out of all of them, she’s likely the most patient.

BTW!!! You can ship anything in this AU, but I have only 3 simple rules:

Nothing Problematic

Nothing that would be in Alabama

And each ship should be to each character’s romantic interest

For example, on what each critter is (of course, there are all headcanons):

Crafty is Lesbian (they/them)

DogDay is Bigender and Bisexual (he/her)

CatNap is Non-Binary and Bisexual (he/they)

Bobby is Transfem and Pansexual (she/they)

Hoppy is Questioning her Interests as of now (she/they)

Bubba is Bisexual (he/him)

Kickin’ is Transmasc and Gay (he/him)

Picky is Transfem and Lesbian (she/her)

That’s all, Folks! Love y’all!

(platonically, of course—)

[theharddeck]

out of the blue, clear sky (chapter three) // Jake Seresin x Reader

Pairing: hangman x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: what's a bit of state rivalry between pilots? You and Hangman see each other in a new light after a late night at a dive bar, and this started as a one shot, then suddenly it was 2k words of country karaoke, and now I want to write a fluffy love story

Warnings: 18+, minors please DNI -- this is a 5 chapter deal and this one is pretty PG, but it'll ratchet up to E in a later chapter, and I don't want to mislead anyone. In the interim, there's swearing, but yeah mostly flagging this because something smutty this way comes

Length: 3.2k

tagging the usuals: @peakyrogers @winterrebel04 @blue-aconite @desert-fern @bioodforbiood @et-homephone @dempy @olliepig @double-j @wildxwidow @blazinglioness @laracrofted @javihoney @amnmich @smoothdogsgirl @shanimallina87 @loveforaugust

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five

“I’m borrowing your sweater,” Fanboy announced, as he let himself into your room, already halfway across it by the time the door shut behind him. 

“Hello,” you intoned, looking up from the book you were just settling into, a cozy murder mystery you’d opened on your weekend off. “How are you, come on in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey waved a hand, reaching your closet and filtering through it. 

Last winter, he’d realized the two of you were the same height, and you’d realized how much better most of your sweaters looked on him. It tracked—you preferred men’s sweaters because they fit better on your shoulders—and there wasn’t enough fall weather that you missed having them. 

“Hot date?” you asked, raising an eyebrow when he pulled out a sweater that could’ve been a part of a Ransom Drysdale cosplay.  

Fanboy snorted, pulling it over his head ungraciously. You sighed when it snagged on his hair, and set your book aside to help him. He was mumbling inside the sweater, and when you pulled it over his head, he wrinkled his nose. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“No problem,” you said, trying not to laugh. 

“But no,” Mickey continued, like he hadn’t just gotten stuck in a sweater, “Halo wants us to do that boardwalk carnival thing, remember?”

Well now that he’d said it, you remembered. 

Something about how carnivals aren’t fun when they’re all crowded in the summer, but it’s much better to enjoy caramel corn, a Ferris wheel, and arcade games in the autumn chill, before the boardwalk closed down for the season. 

“That’s today?” you asked, and Fanboy looked meaningfully at the pajamas you’d already changed into. 

“Halo’s been on about this for weeks; she’ll kill you if you don’t come,” he said, cheerfully. 

You groaned, looking back at your soon-to-be-abandoned book. “When’s everyone leaving?”

“Meeting in front of the rec center in,” Mickey checked his watch as you pushed around him to start rifling through your civilian clothes, “like two minutes.”

“You’re no help,” you told him. “It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Oh no, I know,” he said, and he laughed as he made his way towards your door. 

A quick look in the mirror told you this was going to be rough. 

As soon as the door shut behind Fanboy you pulled off your pajamas, yanking a turtleneck over your head and stepping into a pair of corduroy overalls, leaving them undone around your waist while you shoved your feet into boots. You knew better than to mess with your hair this late, cramming it into a baseball cap and tucking a bookmark into the murder mystery before spinning out of the room. 

You grimaced as you tried to do up the overall fasteners as you ran down the hall to the rec center. They must’ve shrunk in the wash or something, because you had to loosen the clamps as you tried to fit them over your shoulders. They fit, albeit a bit too snugly, but you had the secret weapon of going out with the Dagger crew—mere mortals faded in the presence of Natasha Trace and Javy Machado, so no one would spare you a second glance. 

As you came outdoors of the rec center, you were greeted by the sight of Rooster’s Bronco peeling out of the parking lot, Fritz’s Jeep behind it, and Payback’s Benz behind that. Through the windows, you waved at most of the detachment, the only missing faces being…

“Not gonna lie,” Coyote sighed, coming up beside you and throwing an arm loosely around your shoulder. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t show, and then we’d have an excuse to bail.”

You leaned into his side, not even trying to hide the way that you were breathing hard from your sprint. Javy gave the best hugs, and he smelled good, like he’d spritzed some expensive cologne on his sweaters a couple washes ago, so it wasn’t until you were this close that you realized.

It also might’ve just been him. 

There was something deeply unsettling about him and Fritz, where they reached the point of handsome that it just stopped being something you responded to. It was just an absolute truth of the world—gravity is immutable and if one actually tried to quantify how insanely attractive Javy or Billy were, their mind would implode. 

“Not a boardwalk person, Coyote?” you asked, and you felt him shrug. 

“I feel like I’m wary of anyone who straight up identifies as a boardwalk person,” he said, noncommittal.

“That’s fair,” you said.

“These are fun,” he said, flicking the fastener on the shoulder of your overalls, “very yee-haw of you.”

“Not all of us can be from California,” you told him gravely. 

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Hangman’s pulling his truck around; you got middle?”

He said it casually, and you smiled wanly, wondering if you could think of a way out of it. 

You hadn’t talked to Jake since that morning in the kitchen earlier in the week, not really. Things hadn’t changed so much as they’d stayed exactly the same, which was weird. Maybe not weird. Disconcerting?

Ambiguity wasn’t something you were good with, and with Jake, you had it in spades. 

The way he sang to you at karaoke, the way he’d made sure to let the others know you’d made coffee for him, it kind of almost seemed like maybe there was something there. But then nothing else happened, and you weren’t sure where that left you.

You realized Javy was waiting on an answer, so you turned the both of you towards the curb, stepping up to where the truck should be pulling up to pick you up. 

“Trouble in paradise?” you joked, riffing on the close friendship the two of them shared.

Javy rolled his eyes, but squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, which was almost enough to make you ask him if he knew something you didn’t. 

The rumble of a V8 engine saved you from responding, and a moment later, Jake pulled the truck around the front of the rec center. Javy opened the door for you, and you tried not to read into the fact that Jake didn’t look over at you when you slid across the bench seat.

“You owe Fanboy five bucks,” Jake said around you, and Javy waved a hand as he shut the door after himself.

“Wouldn’t have to,” he said, fishing around the seat between the two of you to hand you the end of your seatbelt, “if you hadn’t sent him in to fetch her.” 

You wound your legs around the gearshift, trying to find a way to sit in the middle seat that didn’t involve fully spreading your thighs, and coming up blank. “You sent Fanboy in to get me?”

Jake shrugged, or he might’ve just been putting the truck in gear. “Halo was getting worried; someone had to do something.” 

His hand brushed against your thigh accidentally as he let go of the gearshift and you swallowed, before glancing over at Jake. 

He was wearing a henley underneath a jean jacket, which was a little disrespectful because Henleys were a good look on anybody, but on Jake it felt like a personal attack. There was a tightness in his jaw that you weren’t quite sure what to do with, but it did make you feel a little bit better, like maybe you weren’t the only one who was being drained by pretending nothing was happening. 

“This’ll be fun,” Javy said calmly, leaning across you to turn on the radio.

It was an old truck, so the radio was an actual dial, and Javy found a station sooner than you’d expected, something nondescript. He looked out his window, and you and Jake stared straight ahead, neither willing to indulge in small talk, and bearing the full force of the awkwardness of the drive. 

You all but sighed in relief when you pulled into the parking lot for the boardwalk, nearly shoving Coyote out of the truck so you could get out of it as well. The others were waiting for your trio by the entrance, and you fell in with them easily, linking arms with Fanboy and Halo, and not looking back. 

The boardwalk wasn’t as crowded as you’d expected, but it wasn’t empty, either. Mostly young families, weary parents guiding their leashed children along the boardwalk as the sun set against the amusement park rides.

There were a couple of buskers along the way, strumming songs on guitars or playing them on accordions. The walk got louder as you got closer to the rides, laughter drifting down from where people were spun over your heads, through the royalty-free music being blasted out of ride speakers. 

Bob got a cotton candy that everyone demolished in twelve seconds flat, and Payback accepted his fate as Adult of The Group and went to get a couple more cones. Rooster and Fitz tried their luck at one of those bell hammer games (Fitz won), and Phoenix disappeared for a couple of minutes, before re-emerging with a simple bird and rolls of flame painted down the side of her face.

Which, of course, prompted the rest of you with nouns-for-callsigns to ask the face painter to try to draw your signs on your faces.

The sun sank and you were glad you’d worn a turtleneck as the wind blew cold over the sea.

The boardwalk took on a surreal, hazy kind of energy, interrupted when Halo stopped in front of a truly sketchy-looking building.  

“A hall of mirrors!!” she squealed. “Okay, who’s coming with me?”

“Absolutely not,” Payback said, at the same time as Coyote said, “Hell no.” 

The rest of the group chuckled, and soon you were split down the middle-- people who’d do the mirror hall, and people who wanted to try their lot at more stall games. 

The groups diverged, and everyone veered off on their own solo adventures.

The rides whirled overhead, swings and slingshots and the Ferris wheel, all technicolor in the evening light, and game operators called from their stalls to get you to spend the $20 worth of tickets you’d had to purchase for admission. 

“Stepppp right up, step right up,” a game operator sang as you came closer. “Five balloons popped by these darts gets you any of these stuffed animals, ten balloons gets you a bigger one, and if you pop five of a specific color in a row, no misses, you can take your pick of any!”

You didn’t think you’d go on any rides for the night, so you handed over a handful of tickets, not really counting, and were given a small bouquet of blunt darts. The first couple of shots you took were absolute trash, not aiming anywhere close to true, and not popping a single balloon. 

But you had tickets to spare and your friends weren’t making an appearance, so you weren’t bothered by it. 

The next round was just as bad, but you figured out the hacks--they skewed hard to the right, and aimed better if you were lower. You were sure you looked ridiculous, squatting in your overalls, but there was no one around to see, and you nailed a couple balloons the next time around.

Another guy came up to the booth; he looked like he was in his late-20s, and talked like he was from New England. He wasn’t particularly attractive, or funny, but there was something absurd about being two strangers at a balloon wall on a board walk in the middle of fall, so you found yourself laughing along with him as you traded turns throwing your darts. You noticed his eyes flitting over your overalls when he thought you weren’t looking, but you were in public and you were very certain if he tried anything, he’d be the one who walked away worse for wear, so you didn’t call him out on it. 

There was still no appearance from your friends, and you still had spare tickets, so when Boston ponied up for another round, you tried again, too.  

And again. 

“Hey,” was the only warning you got, before a Henley-covered arm slid around your shoulders and you were pulled back into Jake’s chest. You registered the turn of events like you were outside your body--you blinking owlishly up at Jake, him smiling easily at you, then lifting his chin at the Bostonian.

“Hey,” the other man said, automatically, frowning at you. 

Jake seemed neither bothered by the look, nor thrown by the way he’d folded you into his chest. He was warm, you noticed absently, broad and way too comfortable for the amount of time you knew he and the others spent at the gym.  Your mind raced, trying to find the words to express hi, yeah, what the fuck?? that was appropriate for the children milling around the boardwalk. 

Which was hard to do, because your mind was just stalling on how good his arm felt around you, grounding and natural. 

“Mind if I try?” Jake asked, from over your shoulder, his jaw brushing your ear. His breath tickled and you shivered, and rather than berate your body for her reactions, you handed over the remaining darts mutely. 

The Bostonion muttered something under his breath and dropped the last of his darts onto the banister, slinking away into the night.  

The moment he stepped away from the stall, Jake let go of you, and he cleared his throat, coming to stand beside you, considering the balloon wall. You crossed your arms, telling yourself it was because you were mad at him, and definitely not because the night suddenly felt cold without Jake right behind you.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, proud of how steady your voice was. 

“Do you want the rabbit or the Care Bear?” Jake asked, looking at the prizes hanging around the display case, before back at you. 

“The koala,” you said caustically, one of the prizes you needed five in a row of one specific color, before you shook your head, undeterred. “Hangman, what was that?”

Jake’s eyes flitted over to it before he looked at you, throwing a dart at the wall without looking away. 

A black balloon popped. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the operator whistled, and you looked back at Jake, who still hadn’t taken his eyes from you. He picked up the next dart. 

Another black balloon popped, and Jake didn’t seem to be inclined to blink, much less look away from you.

“Okay, you’ve proved you’re a better shot,” you said, crossing your arms. “Are you gonna tell me what that was?” 

“What what was?” Jake asked, finally looking away. 

Another black balloon popped, and he didn’t seem to react to it in any sort of way, just playing with the next dart for a moment before it went streaking into another black balloon.

You uncrossed your arms, unsure what to do with this energy from him. 

“What what was,” you repeated, in disbelief. 

Jake looked at you, looked back at the balloon wall, and threw the last dart.

The fifth black balloon popped. 

Jake stood up slowly, rolling his shoulders and looking down at you, his expression tense. 

“He was staring at your ass; it was creepy,” he mumbled.

You blinked. 

On the one hand, it was kind of sweet that he’d stepped in. 

On the other, you knew it was happening, and you hadn’t needed it. 

On the third hand, why the theatrics? 

“And so you thought ‘sure, let me go over there and piss on a fire hydrant until he leaves’?” you asked, wanting to make sure you got it right.

Jake frowned. “That’s not what I was–”

You walked away. 

Okay, maybe not the most mature response, but you weren’t sure how else to react. Jake coming over had felt…natural, and protective, but it also felt way territorial, and that wasn’t you guys, not by a long shot. 

A moment later, Jake fell into step beside you. 

His long legs cut over the boardwalk, and he was holding out an enormous stuffed koala towards you. 

“That’s yours,” you said, not looking over at him.

The koala faltered in its flying state, before Jake held it closer to you. “Don’t be like that, Kentucky.”

You didn’t take it, kept walking over the warped planks in what you hoped was the direction of the Hall of Mirrors, but couldn’t say for certain. 

Jake stepped in front of you.

It was a quick motion, one that had you stopping short to keep from running into him, and had a family swerving around you on the boardwalk. Jake nodded at them obligingly, and then guided you towards the side of the thoroughfare.

“I don’t know what that was, okay?” he said, addressing your earlier question but not answering it. “Look, just take the damn bear, will you?”

You looked up at him. 

In his green eyes, the lights of the boardwalk were reflected, shining and fluorescent. But beyond that, you saw the same uncertainty that you felt, the same confusion, the same curiosity. 

“It’s a marsupial, not a bear,” you said, and you took the koala. 

Jake’s hands went to the pockets of his jacket, and you could feel him watching you as you petted the top of the stuffed animal. The thing was probably teeming with pathogens, but it was softer than you’d expected. 

You sighed, your hand stilling. 

“You were raised just as old-fashioned as I was, Seresin,” you said. “So you know that you haven’t asked, or acted, or nothing, in a way that backs up this territorial shit.”

Jake’s jaw tightened, and he let out a slow breath. He took a step closer to you, and you knew you should back away, but the stubborn part of you had you holding your ground, even as Jake leaned closer to you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, and his voice made you shiver, “you haven’t seen anything close to that side of me.”

A part of you fluttered when he said it. 

Another part of you forgave him.

And yet another whispered that it was hot, for sure, but it still wasn’t anything explicit enough to be intention. 

You stepped back, pulling in a deep breath to steady yourself as you looked at Jake.

His hands were still in the pockets of his jacket, but you could see they were clenched into fists, just as you could see the tightness in his shoulders, curling down to his hands. His actions, his words, his body, they were all saying different things, and you weren’t sure you could piece it together on your own.

But it didn’t seem like Jake was going to say anything else to help you decipher it. 

Over his shoulder, you could see Rooster and Payback, cutting through the crowd; it was only a matter of moments before they spotted the both of you.  

“You want to try that again?” you asked quietly. 

And he knew what you meant; you watched it register that you were asking for a better answer than the noncommittal ones he was giving you. His brow furrowed and you watched his mind dart to a hundred places, settling in none of them. 

But Jake didn’t say anything.

You nodded, pulling the stuffed animal close to your chest. 

“Thanks for the koala,” you hold him, stepping around him and heading back towards your friends, hoping that if you walked quickly enough, you could leave behind the irrational amount of hurt you felt that he couldn't come up with anything.

next chapter

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 242. brb x oc

a/n: ah...I really can't let them HAVE MOMENTS OF FLUFFNESS (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

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

chapter

1/

/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217/218/219/220/221/222/223/224

/225/226/227/228/229/230/231/232/233/234/235/236/237/238

/239/240/241

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

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

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

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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

-

Beatrice and Rooster both got home after a while, the photoshoot wasn’t that day but it was more of a fitting room. Once they were safe inside their house, more specifically inside their bedroom, Rooster fell back on their bed and heaved out a sigh, “Who knew trying on clothes was so tiring?”

“Well,” Beatrice replies,voice just as tired, “It involves us moving a lot and measuring and such,Roos.” she placed her phone face down on their dresser, sighing through her nose while rubbing her eyes, “And we are both really,really tired. We did plan to stay home today.”

He chuckles quietly, “True.” and he runs his fingers through his hair, “It was still fun.”

Beatrice chuckled softly, her exhaustion giving way to a contented smile. She crawled onto the bed and joined Rooster, lying down beside him. "It was," she agreed, her eyes locked onto his. "And you did look incredibly handsome in those outfits."

Rooster hummed, running his hand up and down her back when he hugged her waist. "You think so?" he asked, "Marcus sure has a talent for picking out clothes."

Beatrice reached out to gently stroke his cheek. "You'd look handsome in anything," she whispered, her tone filled with love. "I’ve yet to find something you’d look bad in,I mean, you make Hawaiian shirts look good.”

“Oh,ha ha.” he answers dryly, poking her nose and making her squeak into his chest, “...you are lucky you are cute,ma’am.”

“I know.” she giggles, leaning up to kiss his lips, “I’m going to shower, I am…so tired I might not even be able to stay in a bath.” she slowly slides off the bed towards the bathroom, pulling her hair out of her ponytail while Rooster remained in bed, arms behind his head and eyes following the sway of her hips.

“You need any help?” she just gave him a knowing look over her shoulder, “Just askin’.”

“I’m fine,Roos, thanks.” and she disappeared behind the bathroom’s wall.

Once Rooster was alone, he sighed through his nose, closing his eyes for a brief second and thinking he could nap a little bit. It was late, Nikki was asleep, the dogs are asleep…he could nap for a few seconds as he waits for Bea to come out. He had a good day, he had to admit…just close his eyes for a second–

Then his phone vibrates.

“Ugghhh!!” he pulls his pillow and covers his face, groaning into it, “Whhyyy???”

“Roos?What’s happening?”

He wasn’t going to worry her because of his own dramatics,he just picked his phone and checked the caller, “It’s just Mav.” he mutters, “I’m okay. I’ll…see what he wants.”

“Okay!Take your time!”

With that, Rooster answered the call and began his conversation with Maverick out of the room, rubbing his eyes and going down the stairs to the kitchen, ‘Hey Mav.”

“Hey,Brad. Busy?”

“Honestly,” he pauses, “Kind of,tired mostly. Why? What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check on you guys, seem there’s a little investigation of yours going on,huh?”

An investigation— what- he looks unimpressed then closes his eyes in annoyance, “They can’t fucking keep their mouths shut,I fucking swear.” he mutters, walking over to the fridge - stepping over Jolene’s sleeping form on the floor - and grabbing a glass from the cabinet, “Alright,I’ll bite, what do you know so far?”

“Only that the Halton guy bothered you.” his uncle chuckles, “And that his wife is annoying too.”

Rooster filled the glass with water, taking a sip as he listened to Maverick's words. He couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and amusement at how quickly word had spread about the encounter with Mark and Miranda Halton. "Yeah, they were definitely... something," he replied with a dry chuckle. "But we're handling it, no big deal."

"I know you can handle it, Brad," he said. "But just remember, if you ever need anything, if things get too complicated, you can always reach out to me. You're family, and family looks out for each other."

Rooster appreciated his uncle's support, and he nodded, even though Maverick couldn't see the gesture over the phone. "Thanks, Mav," he said sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind. But for now, we're just trying to get past it and avoid them at all costs.”

“Even at the base?”

“Especially there.”

"You know you won’t be able to avoid him that much." Maverick replied. "Believe me, I tried it with Cyclone, never worked.”

A warm smile spread across Rooster's face and he was so glad he wasn’t drinking when he heard those words come out of his uncle’s mouth, because he’d definitely choke on the liquid and it’d be a whole mess in their kitchen, “I mean, you have any tips then?”

Maverick chuckled on the other end of the line, his voice filled with a hint of mischief. "Well, the best advice I can give you is to stay professional," he said. "Be polite, but don't engage in any unnecessary conversations. Focus on your duties and your team, and keep interactions with the Haltons to a minimum."

“...right.”

“But that’s my opinion as a Captain.” he says, “As your uncle,I’d say to teach them a lesson, But we also know that can be…complicated.But seriously,if he ever crosses the line or become a real problem, you know what to do…legally.”

“Uh-huh. I am scared about leaving Nikki with you when she’s older. What will you teach her??”

“Pretty much what I taught you,kiddo.” his uncle’s smirk doesn’t even need to be seen for Rooster to know it’s there, “And look at how you turned out.”

Rooster couldn't help but laugh at his uncle's response. "Fair point," he replied, his smile lingering. "I turned out all right, didn't I?"

"You turned out better than all right, Brad," he said. "You've become an outstanding Navy pilot, a loving husband, and a fantastic father. I'm proud of the man you've become."

Well.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Even if he and Mav made up years ago, it still made his heart swell with gratitude and actual wonder when he hears that. He takes a few seconds to reply, for a second he was little Brad again, looking up at Maverick  "Thanks, Mav," he said sincerely. "That means a lot coming from you."

"You earned it, kiddo," Maverick replied.

"And that was also the last time you were taller than me.” he couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t.

Maverick hummed, then scoffed a chuckle, one he tried so hard to hold back, “Aren’t you full of jokes.”

Rooster grinned on the other end of the line, his playful spirit shining through. "I couldn't resist," he admitted. "But seriously, thanks for the support and advice, Mav. It means a lot to me."

"Anytime, Brad," Maverick replied warmly. "Remember, family looks out for each other. And speaking of family, how are Beatrice and Nikki doing?"

A fond smile touched Rooster's lips as he thought of his wife and daughter. "They're doing great," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Beatrice is as amazing as ever, and Nikki... well, she's growing like a weed and keeping us on our toes."

Maverick chuckled. "I can imagine. She's got the Bradshaw blood in her, after all.She’ll reach your chest in no time, just you wait.” he pauses “And the twins?”

Rooster laughter diminished for a second, he spun the glass on it’s axis on the counter, the grating sound hitting his ears, “Still at the NICU. But…they are growing stronger. There’s…just their absence makes it a bit hard, you know? But they are okay, only progressing.”

Maverick's tone softened with understanding as he listened to Rooster's words. "I know it's tough, Brad," he said sympathetically. "But they have the best parents looking out for them, and I'm sure they'll be home with you soon."

Rooster nodded, his heart aching for the day when he could hold his twins in his arms without the confines of the NICU. "We're counting down the days," he admitted. "Beatrice and I try visiting them every day. It's hard being apart, but we know it's for their best."

"That's the spirit," he said. "They'll get through this."

Rooster smiled, grateful for his uncle's words of encouragement. "Thanks, Mav," he replied. "Really.

"Anytime, Brad," Maverick said. "And don't hesitate to call me if you ever need anything, whether it's advice or just someone to talk to."

"I know." Rooster promised. "Take care Mav.”

"Take care, Brad. Give my best to Beatrice and Nikki, and of course, to the twins."

"I will, Mav," Rooster replied. "You take care too. Talk to you soon."

After saying their goodbyes, Rooster ended the call and set his phone aside. He took a moment to breathe. While the conversation started light, it got heavier and heavier inside his heart. He knew his babies were okay, if there was something all of their kids had in common was how good they were and how strong they were.

But that didn’t mean it made the absence any easier. Walking past the empty nursery every day was the most gut wrenching feeling in the whole world. He didn’t know how Bea is managing it, but she’s been getting so much better.

Rooster sat at the kitchen table, his mind still filled with thoughts of his twins. He absentmindedly traced his finger along the rim of his glass as he allowed the silence to take over. Until he hears her footsteps approaching him.

“Good talk with Mav?”

He smiled even without turning around, “He always has something to add.” he mutters, inhaling her lavender scent when she comes from behind, hugging his neck and propping her chin on his shoulder, “He just wanted to know how things were.”

Beatrice's arms wrapped around Rooster's shoulders as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I'm sure it was good to catch up with him," she replied, her voice soft and comforting. She could sense the weight of Rooster's thoughts, and she wanted to be there for him.

Rooster tilted his head slightly, allowing her kiss to linger on his cheek. Her presence was a soothing balm to his worries, and he appreciated it more than words could express. "Yeah, it was," he admitted. "Not like I don’t see him every day at work..."

She smiles,kissing his cheek noisily, “Come on,” she taps his shoulder, ‘To bed,handsome, we are both tired.”

-

And yet she woke up in the middle of the night,well, not in the middle. It was close to five, she’d wake up anyway. Beatrice yawned quietly, gently removing Rooster’s arm from her waist and sitting up on the bed, looking back at him when he grumbled in annoyance before hugging her pillow.

Beatrice sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she walked to the windows to check the weather. It’s something she grew accustomed to ever since she had Nicole. Cloudy, but not too much, good.

“Bea.” his deep voice calls from the bed, “Babe…why are you up?”

Beatrice turned her attention back to Rooster, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "I didn't mean to wake you," she replied, her voice hushed so as not to disturb the still-sleeping Nicole in the adjacent room. "I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

Rooster yawned again, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up in bed, his tousled hair making him look even more adorable. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the last remnants of sleep. "Is something on your mind, babe?" he asked, concern etched in his expression.

Beatrice considered her answer for a moment. She turned back to the window, gazing out at the predawn light as she spoke. "Not really, for the first time in a while I just,” she shrugs with a little smile, “Woke up without reason.”

“Hmmmm…”

“Babe, you are almost going back to sleep.”

“No,” he mutters, eyes closed,kicking the covers, “I gotta-” he yawns “Get ready for work. I need to mentally prepare,I got a meeting with Cyclone.”

She blinked at him, turning her whole body in his direction this time, ‘...you didn’t tell me you did?”

Rooster nodded, running his hands through his hair. "I didn't want to worry you," he explained. "It's just a routine meeting, nothing to be concerned about. But I wanted to be prepared."

Beatrice's concern for her husband's well-being was evident in her eyes, even in the dim light of the early morning. She crossed her arms over her chest, following him into the bathroom, “Any…idea what it might be? This meeting I mean.”

Rooster stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light as he prepared to start his morning routine. He glanced at Beatrice's reflection in the mirror, her worried expression mirrored in his own eyes. "Honestly, babe," he began, reaching for his toothbrush, "I don't have all the details yet. Cyclone just said it's an important meeting, and I should be ready to discuss some changes."

Beatrice nodded, rubbing her neck with her hand. She watched as he squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush, her thoughts racing as she considered the possibilities. "Do you think it's related to your promotion?"

Rooster shrugged as he started brushing his teeth. "It's hard to say," he replied between brush strokes, "but it's possible. Cyclone wouldn't call a meeting like this unless there was something significant to discuss."

Beatrice sighed, leaning against the bathroom door frame. She hated the uncertainty that often came with Rooster's job, but she knew it was part of the package when you married a Navy pilot. "Right…”

Rooster rinsed his mouth and splashed some water on his face, then turned to face Beatrice with a reassuring smile. "Hey," he said, walking over to her and taking her hands in his, "it's going to be okay. I've faced these kinds of meetings before, and I always come out of them just fine."

Beatrice nodded, her fingers lacing with his as she looked up into his eyes. "I know you can handle it," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "You're one of the best pilots they have."

Rooster's smile widened, and he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to Beatrice's lips. "That's because I have the best support at home," he murmured against her mouth, making her blush.

"Smooth talker," she teased, her cheeks flushed.

Rooster chuckled, pulling back slightly. "I mean every word, babe," he said sincerely. "You know that.”

Beatrice's heart swelled with love for her husband, and she couldn't help but smile. "I love you, Roos," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more.

Rooster returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around Beatrice as he held her close. "I love you too, Bea," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. “Now, breakfast? I can make us something nice.”

“...okay.” she smiles, “I’ll take that.”

[ohtobeleah]

Ya girl needs happy thoughts about ToE...so looking into the future, who teaches Dot how to drive?? And does she ever get to drive the Bronco?? Is she good at driving? Is she bad? Does she get her own car??

I feel like Bradley definitely takes on that duty for all three Bradshaw children. But of course it starts with Dot. And that’s not negating that you definitely do the odd lesson here and there when you’ve gotta run to the shops and Dots clawing at your ankles to let her drive you.

Jake does a couple too, purely out of convenience, he stops by Dots school. Parks the car, changes up where he’s post up, straps in for dear fucking life and text Amilia (Who is never ever allowed to teach anyone ever, how to drive)

But it’s mostly Bradley. And it’s still up for debate about the Bronco. That’s Bradley’s baby. So when Dot is dangling the Bronco keys in front of her dads face once Sunday morning when he’s very much enjoying still being in bed at a late ten thirty—Bradley is raising a brow, looking his daughter dead in the eye before he’s rolling over with a gruff.

“I’m old but I’m not senile—I’ve told you no.”

“Dad! Come on, the Bronco is so cool! You have to let me drive it just once!”

“You can’t drive stick shift—“

“Because you haven’t taught me!” Okay she had him there. So with a heavy sigh and far too much hesitancy evident in his tone of voice—Bradley is sitting up, Dot hates that her dad isn't like all the other dads she knows. He’s fit and tan and keeps himself in shape. It makes her squint her eyes shut and groan because he’s not wearing a shirt and the matching tattoo he has with uncle Jake is on full display on his right pec.

“Fine, go get your log book.” Dot beames. She’s so ecstatic that she gets to drive the Bronco. Bradley’s not so ecstatic as he reaches for his phone, calls his hire ups and asks if he can borrow one of the tarmacs because he’s got a teenager wanting to drive the Bronco and the last thing Bradley needs is for either him or Dot? Is to be charged with unintentional vehicular manslaughter. So to base they go, the last pace Bradley Bradshaw ever wants to be on his one fucking day off.

“Okay so—“ Bradley’s nearly in tears when he watches Odette climb up into the driver’s seat of the Bronco. They’re sitting on the empty runway. “You gotta put your foot down slowly, and when you see the needle climb, shift into second.” Bradley’s trying to explain but the information being delivered is just going straight over Dots head. “Odette, are you even listening to me?”

“I am, how do I shift gears?” Oh my god this kid is gonna ruin the gearbox for sure. Bradley can practically see dollar signs coming out of Dot's mouth as she speaks.

“You have to put your foot down on the clutch, and slowly release—“

When Dot starts up the engine, turning the key into the ignition, Bradley feels his heart drop into his stomach. He’s not ready to die, not yet. He holds onto the handle above his head to the right and prays to his parents that although he loves them dearly—he wasn’t ready to see them yet.

“Dad, you can open your eyes.” Dots chuckling, she’s seamlessly changing gears, from first to second and from second to third. “Uncle Jake drives a manual, remember? I was just fuck assing around.” Dot teased her dad, who’s looking whiter than Uncle Bob on Taco Tuesday. “I know how to drive stick—“

“Oh.” It’s almost instantly Rooster is letting the tension in his muscles go. “Well, alright then.” And for a while Dot does a pretty good job just driving around the tarmac at her dad’s instruction. Bradley’s guiding her around. Telling her to slow down, speed up, chuck a right and a left and it always goes pretty well. So well in fact that he lets her drive home.

You were expecting Brsdley to arrive home in tears. But when Dot pulled up in the driveway with a smile so bright smeared across her face your heart melted.

“She’s actually a pretty good driver.” Rooster calls out as Dot parks, his forearm is resting on the rolled down window. “Don’t let Amilia get anywhere near her, we don’t want her going backwards—“

You and Bradley meet Dot half way. She saves for half her second hand car and you pay the rest. But she usually just takes whatever car is in the drive until she gets her own.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~

[topazadine]

Let's address the idiot in the room:

Uileac Korviridi.

Portrait by Feddefar

Today, we're going to go through a play-by-play of everything wrong with this man so we all feel a bit better.

Firstly, what the fuck kind of name is that?

Simple. It's pronounced "Oui-lac." No, it is not French.

(As an aside note, I did not realize how many people desperately want to sound out names in their head while reading until multiple people asked me how the hell to pronounce Uileac.)

"Uileac" has multiple potential origins and meanings. In Norse, it's "playful and carefree," while in British mythology, it's "brave protector."

Frankly, it fits Uileac perfectly. He's calm on the surface but a storm inside. He loves his little sister Cerie and his husband Orrinir with a passion that borders on terrifying.

So who is this horrible man?

Uileac is an archer in the Rear Cavalry of the Bremish Army, meaning that he hangs out behind the Advance Infantry during battles and works on killing as many Sinans as possible. We love to see it.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be a soldier: he was forced into the War Academy as a child because his parents were murdered by the Sinans during a raid on the family farm. But hey, if you're going to be become a child soldier, might as well be the best one you can be.

Choosing to fall in love with Orrinir (which you can read about in 9 Years Yearning) was a choice. A damn good one, frankly. Orrinir is a very handsome man.

While the Bremish army's arrows are all enchanted with High Poetry, Uileac is quite a good archer himself even without magic. He loves the sense of power that comes from killing someone at such a distance, so he hones his skills incessantly, despite the fact that he could just rely on High Poetry to fix it. This has given him one of the best kill counts in the army, beyond what would be expected from the stabilizing force of the magic.

Most of his free time is spent on the range, shooting at targets for hours while riding his beloved palomino mare, Erix.

A palomino looks like this, btw.

He's an absolutely shit swordsman, though. All those years of practice have given him no sense whatsoever of how to use the damn thing on his waist.

Thankfully, Orrinir is a fantastic swordsman and doesn't mind berating his husband for his horrible form as they practice. That's their love language, okay? And don't worry - Orrinir's a shit archer, too.

Uileac's Top Five Things He Cares About to the Exclusion of Everything Else are as follows:

Cerie Korviridi, his little sister

Orrinir Relickim, his husband

Erix, his horse

Achieving Rear Cavalry General

An excellent cup of tea

He and Orrinir what I would call "mutual simps," both happy to destroy the whole world if their husband asked them to.

No questions, just "you must be beating this dude up for a reason, mind if I join?"

He can also be really fucking mean when necessary. Mostly when someone has upset someone he loves. For example, here he is telling his husband's abusive father that he's going to hell:

One of his greatest strengths is adorable sibling relationship with Cerie, who is four years younger than him. They lost their parents at age 11 and 7 respectively, and so Uileac became her protector as she studied at the High Poet Society's meronym. This mixture of parental adoration and taunting shines through throughout the series:

Sometimes he even feeds her like she's the stupidest baby bird in the universe because her fingernails were ripped off in a brutal initiation ritual.

Loyal, level-headed, a bit sassy: Uileac is the perfect catch.

(Look, I'm not saying that I, his lesbian creator, am a little bit in love with him, but ... oh hell who am I kidding. I totally am.)

What else do we need to know about this idiot?

Glad you asked. Top Ten Uileac Facts, in no particular order:

1. Uileac is terrified of chickens. They're just ... wrong. Something about them screams of primordial menace. Also, a rooster chased him once when he was a little kid at the farm in Quirnis. 2. He exclusively uses lizardbird arrows for his enchanted arrows. Practice ones are just whatever happens to be lying around, but the serious stuff? Gotta use those bright green, vivid, fierce arrows from Breme's greatest aerial predator. 3. Despite his sister being a High Poet, Uileac himself only prays when he needs something. The rest of the time, he doesn't think much about religion. Orrinir is also the same way: they've got more important shit to do. 4. While Uileac has a very melodic voice, he can't sing, only whistle. (Though if you get enough barley wine in him, he doesn't even care that he's completely off-key.) 5. One of his favorite activities is training horses. There's just something magical about building a connection with an animal and getting them to listen to him. 6. When Cerie was little, before they went to their separate professions (the War Academy and the High Poet Society respectively), she would often have nightmares about their parents dying, and he would sit up and make up fairytales for her. She's always looked for them in old books, and he doesn't have the heart to tell her that they were all fabricated on the spot. 7. Every once in a while, he talks in his sleep, and Orrinir delights in telling him the stupid things he said while unconscious. 8. Uileac loves giving people obnoxious gifts. Unfortunately, Cerie also loves giving people obnoxious gifts (it must be a Korviridi trait) so they are an eternal war of buying something that is practical but also hideous. For example, giving Cerie a fountain pen with an immaculate nib - and a carving of a sultry cow. Why? Well, why not? 9. While one would expect that Uileac, being the tiny twink he is, would be the bottom, but in fact, that would be his strong ox of a husband. He loves to control that man. 10. If there's some form of competition, Uileac is in it to win it. Doesn't matter whether that's a dance-off (he cannot dance), a horse race (he and Erix will turn you into dust), or wrestling (he'll die), he'll give it a shot. Then brag about it.

[transgenderer]

okay so i was reading the wikipedia article "jews as the chosen people" and there's this section, which starts with

According to the Rabbis, "Israel is of all nations the most willful or headstrong one, and the Torah was to give it the right scope and power of resistance, or else the world could not have withstood its fierceness."

which is kind of a fun post. its like rock lee and the training weights (well not really). anyway this seemed really odd so i checked the source, its bezah 25b, which is a section of the mishnah (called egg cuz thats the first word), anyway i went there and its kind of bizarre? its like, rules about what to eat but theyre mixed together with metaphors about god and the nature of the religion? its confusing and strange. the section this is from is more focused thogh:

The Gemara considers another aspect of the character of the Jewish people. It is taught in a baraitain the name of Rabbi Meir: For what reason was the Torah given to the Jewish people? It is because they are impudent, and Torah study will weaken and humble them. A Sage of the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught the following with regard to the verse: “From His right hand went a fiery law for them” (Deuteronomy 33:2); The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Based on their nature and character, these people, the Jews, are fit to be given a fiery law, a hard and scorching faith. Some say a different version of this baraita: The ways and nature of these people, the Jews, are like fire, as, were it not for the fact that the Torah was given to the Jewish people, whose study and observance restrains them, no nation or tongue could withstand them.

And this is the same as what Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: There are three impudent ones: The Jewish people among the nations; the dog among animals; and the rooster among birds. And some say: Also the goat among small cattle. And some say: Also the caper bush among trees.

(side note: the dog is surely one of the least impudent animals. they can be trained, almost uniquely so! maybe they used to be more impudent)

The Nation of Israel is likened to the olive. Just as this fruit yields its precious oil only after being much pressed and squeezed, so Israel's destiny is one of great oppression and hardship, in order that it may thereby give forth its illuminating wisdom.[27] Poverty is the quality most befitting Israel as the chosen people.[28] Only on account of its good works is Israel among the nations "as the lily among thorns",[29] or "as wheat among the chaff."[30][31]

other ways jewish people are like olives: mediterranean. olive skin arguably. salty. mostly water by mass

[sachiko1309]

The good old Doc - Part 4

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 2605

Warnings: PTSD flashback, grafic description of death and injury, Minors DNI

The following days were filled with nothing particularly interesting. I was mostly to be found in my office, reading through the teams files, memorizing their medical backstory in case I needed to work without having them with me. It was nothing that would be expected from me, since I had a small tablet with all the infos I needed to work. Medical files, contact infos, testaments and if we would have a mission also the mission report and notes. But I liked to be prepared. Serving in Afghanistan as my first deployment taught me the hard way how important it was to always be up to date the old fashioned way. I lost a good man, to not knowing his allergies and he was out like a light, not being able to tell them. His team also not being able to remember it, he had an allergic reaction to penicillin, resulting in him dying. After a short investigation it was deemed a work accident and I was cleared from any charges, but it stuck with me, shaping the way I worked.

A knock on my door interrupted me. Looking up I was just quick enough to dodge the paper ball being thrown at me. “If you leave the door open like that, you need to work on your attention skills.” Hangman and the rest of the team were standing in the small hallway in front of my office. “What you want, Blondie?” I asked closing the files on my desk. He walked up to me, studying my desk like a hawk. “You stalkin’ us?” He said nodding towards the tower of files.

“Ah yes. What would my day be without your smug face staring up at me from a file.” I rolled my eyes getting up. “No. I am learning your infos by heart. Someone needs to know, if we get in trouble.”

“Don’t you have a tablet for things like that?” Payback asked.

“I do. But last time I trusted on that I lost a man. Not making the same mistakes twice. So, whats so important you interrupt me potentially saving your live one day?” Walking around the desk I opened the door of my safe, putting the files back. “We want you to come to the hangar. Show you our playground. You need to be familiar with it, one day you might be relying on it.” Bob leaned around Coyote and Phoenix. “Lead the way, Bobby.” I grinned, taking my cup of tea in one hand the tablet in the other.

“What happened when you lost that man?” Bob asked, slowing down to walk next to me. Now I was surrounded by aviators. Payback and Coyote in the front, Bob and Phoenix next to me, Hangman and Rooster trailing behind. I felt like the president being guarded to the air force one. “He got shot on one mission. We were evacuating a certain area in Kabul, being called back by our Commander. Right as we were loading the helicopters we got ambushed. T-Bone got hit in the shoulder. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before and nothing he wasn’t used to. He was quiet the man, if you like, earning his name, because he bombed a cow on accident. Don’t know how, but he mistook it as a threat. Like I said, the wound was manageable. What I didn’t know to that time, was I took a hit as well. To the vest, but still. My tablet got destroyed, and therefore I wasn’t able to read into his file, searching for allergies. He was allergic to penicillin. Died still in the helicopter from the reaction mixed with the blood loss and shock his body obtained. I got under investigation; they signed it off as work accident and I was off the hook. But I felt guilty for not knowing such a viable thing. That’s when I decided to learn the files of my team by heart.”

The group was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be rude, but I kinda am glad, that that happened and you are now a better Doc for us.” Coyote said from the front, holding the side door of the hangar open for everyone. “T-Bone would have said the same.” I smiled, remembering the tall, bulky mountain of a man. He looked like the absolute madman he was in the field, but at heart he was a sweet little kitten. Always making jokes, lifting the spirit of everyone around. Losing him was like losing the backbone of the team.

“So that’s our home!” Hangman announced, wrapping an arm around me, guiding me trough the jets. In front of one he stopped. “And that, sweet cheeks, is my lady. The one woman I swore true love to.” I chuckled at his words, letting my fingers stroke over the nose of his jet. “Who knew all it takes the big boy to kneel is 1.700 gallons of fuel and Mach 1.8.”

“I need a wild child to satisfy me.” He answered, looking at my face. Searching for a reaction to his flirting. I didn’t react to it, not wanting him to drive home a win.

Phoenix interrupted our stare of. “Leave your things on the table there. Maverick is flying a test run. He is about to cross us. You have to see that, feel the pressure of it. Its amazing!” She was grinning like a child on Christmas, pulling me towards the big gate. I left my things on the table following her and the rest outside. Putting my sunglasses on my nose I starred in the sky, waiting for Maverick to fly over us. And that he did. Low and fast. Breaking the sound barrier with a loud smack, that I could feel deep inside my bones.

What I didn’t expect my body to do, was crumble to the floor and snap into a flashback to Afghanistan.

The explosion of a booby trap leaped the truck in front of us in the air. Fire, surrounding us, when our Humvee, crashed through it. A second explosion, hitting us like a brick wall. The car got rolled over, flipping several times, before it stopped on its roof. Around me the marines started to hustle, kicking out the doors and seeping out of the truck like ants. Clearing the surroundings, they pulled me out, pushing my head down and running for cover. My hands clasped at the medical bag, mindlessly throwing it on my back. My vision was minimized to the man in front of me. Left hand on his shoulder, fight hand pulling my gun out of my holster.

Bullets snarled through the air, whipping up the sand around us on impact. I heard yelling and screams of pain. Forever burning inside my ears. With a soft thud, the man in front of me fell, blood seeping out of his throat, forcing me to stumble over him to keep going. Speeding up to close the lines I reached for the next guy in row. Apex. An older marine in his early fourties. “Get your head clear, Doc!” He yelled at me. “You hear me? Head clear. Focus. Work!” Finally snapping out of my panicked state I looked up. “Yes, Commander.” I rasped, rolling down on the floor in a flat hole on the ground. It wasn’t much, but it was manageable to return fire.

He pushed an M-16 in my hands and handed me two magazines. “You know how to use it?” His words were hard and strict, expecting no objection. “Yes, Sir.” I holstered my hand gun, checking the bigger weapon in my hand. Fully loaded, two spare magazines. 90 bullets. Shifting the knob to half automatic I rolled on my stomach, aiming out on the exploded Humvees. Luckily the Taliban weren’t as coordinated as our marines, so I was able to shoot down two, before they could react. My hands were shake, making it hard to keep the machine gun steady. “Relax, Lieutenant. Breathe, aim, shoot. Just like we taught you. If you want out of here, you better function.” Commander Lewis, wasn’t one to be sensible about things. A strict, but wise leader.

Following his advise, I took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, shooting a round. Breathing out of my mouth. It wasn’t the right way of handling a gun. In basic training, they tell you to breathe through the shots, let them run through your body, feel the impact. But I didn’t trust myself enough to follow the rules. My survival instincts kicking in. In my childhood I was a kid to run from threats, but now I was forced to fight it. Every fiber of my body screamed to run, get up and run. But I couldn’t. The Taliban had made out our position. Sending their waves of bullets over our heads. I could feel it. Feel the way they ripped through the air, the small winds they produced. Next to me another marine, emptied his magazine, lifting his body to reach for his spare one.

That’s when it hit him. Right in the face. Just inches from his helmet. I saw it happen in slow motion. The way his head snapped back. The back of his skull breaking from the pressure build inside of it. Blood and brain tissue splattering over his back, his legs, the sand, my face. I pushed down a scream, shuffling over to his body. Searching it for his spare magazines. Three in numbers. Putting one inside my gear, I handed Apex the other two. Ignoring the way, the warm blood ran down my face, made its way through the corner of my lips. Tasting metallic and sweet. The marine, I didn’t know the name of, laying on the ground. Head turned to me. Face half smashed in. The left eye open and covered in blood.

I turned my gaze away. Concentrating again on the enemies in front of me. Firing round after round. Pressing myself down, every time they threw a grenade, hoping it would miss. Put this one didn’t. It landed between me and Apex, laying there signing a song of its upcoming danger. Apex reacted faster than I did. Grabbing the ball of death and yanking it back to where it came from. I could just stare at him. He touched it. Threw it. I saw his mouth moving, not registering he what he was saying. The ringing sound of the explosion still running through my brain.  “Move!” Suddenly his voice forced its way into my head. That’s when I registered the rain of bullets had subsided. Leaving us room to make a run. Jumping to my feet I ran. Following Apex. Trusting him he would know where to go.

But I wasn’t lucky.

A sharp pain shot through my left thigh. Knees buckling. Falling to the ground. Apex turned around, signaling his man to go, lifting me up over his right side, switching the weapon to his left. Instantly two of our men were behind us, running backwards, following my cries of pain. “Whats the first rule of the marines?” Apex barked.

“Never leave a man behind, Sir.” I answered.

“Then start working. You are one of us. Do your deed of getting us out!” I knew he was trying to get my thoughts off of the bullet hole in my leg, but hearing it made something snap in me. As if he opened up a secret chamber full of determination and power.

I grabbed my weapon harder, lifting as much weight on my left leg as possible, helping him carry me. But it was to late. Another rain of bullets, flew at us. Taking down the two men behind. Hitting me in my right shoulder and Apex in the back. Stumbling to the ground he buried me under him. Unable to move properly I tried to fight my way out, shove him off me. Without any success. His eyes were glossy. Looking without direction. Dead.

The shadows of veiled man, creeping closer. With one last cry I tried to wriggle free. Again, no success. A voice snarled in a language I didn’t understand. Probably a local accent of Arabic. Two men lifted Apex from my body. Another one pulled me up at my arm. I screamed in pain, before I blacked out.

My scream ripped me from my flashback. I found myself clinging to Hangman, half sitting half laying on the floor. He was holding me, kneeling in front of me, speaking to me. I just starred at him. Eyes wide, tears streaming down my face, panic written over my face. It wasn’t until then, that his words forced themselves through my mushed brain. “Its alright. You are safe. I am here. Nothing will hurt you. We will protect you.” Over and over, he repeated the words, waiting for me to react. And I did, fully pressing me into his chest I began to sob heavily.

“Apex.” I stuttered. “He is dead. Everyone is dead. I need to get out… get out.”

“Relax, Lilith. You are in San Diego. Top gun navy base.” Jake started to wipe away my tears.

“San Diego.” I repeated. “Safe.”

“Yes. Safe.” He affirmed. “You want to tell me, what happened?”

“I… I was back in Afghanistan. We were ambushed on the way to the airport. Two booby traps. The first Humvee exploded like it was nothing. Ours got just turned to the back. I killed people. I don’t know how many. They screamed. My men screamed. Apex pulled me out of it, getting me to coverage. He was my Commander. But then… Another marine got shot next to me. His face… all gone. We made a run. I got shot. In the leg, than in the shoulder. Apex took the most bullets. He was dead before he hit the ground. I was buried underneath him. Could feel him bleed out into my clothes. Than they took me. I am going to be tortured. They will hurt me! Apex…”

“No, darlin. No. You are safe. They cant hurt you anymore, okey?” Jake shook me, to get my attention. “We will get you home now, okay? Home. Safe.” “Safe.” I nodded. Letting him pull me into a stand. My knees were still shaky, so I held onto his arms. Sighting he picked me up. Now I was hanging from his arms like a toddler from its parent. Arms around the shoulder, legs hooked around his waist. “Get her stuff.” He said, to someone I didn’t see. Then he started walking, towards the exit. On the way out we ran into Admiral Simpson.

“What happened?” He was next to us immediately. “Is she alright?”

“She is fine. Physically at least. She got a flashback to Afghanistan, when Maverick crossed us. I will bring her home, if that’s alright.” Jake answered for me. “Can I take off the day as well? Look out for her?”

“I… You have things to do…” Simpson argued, but stopped once he saw my grip on Jake getting stronger. “Okay. Take her home. Take today and Friday off. I don’t want to see her over the weekend at the base until Monday. Am I clear?” Straightening up, Jake answered: “Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.” Cyclone waved us off. Carrying me to his car, he nodded to what seemed to be Payback, who waited with my bag packed next to Jakes car. Carefully he set me into the passenger seat. Plucking my arms and legs from his body, buckling me in. Phoenix told him my address, squeezing my hand, before she closed the door.

[charkyzombicorn]

Au based of fruit baskets

The straw hats (plus sabo and vivi) turn into animals based on the chimes zodiac when hugged by the opiate gender

Rat, Nami (Rats have specialized brain cells in the striatum that provide them with a map of their surroundings)

Ox, franky

Tiger, zoro

Rabbit, usopp

Dragon, sabo

Snake, Jinbe

Horse, vivi

Goat, sanji

Monkey, luffy

Rooster, brook

Dog, chopper

Pig, robin (they are one of the smartest animals)

ANON I GONNA KISS U ON THE MOUTH

So since fruit's basket is a piece abt rigid tradition and psychological abuse I'm making Ace the cat (if yk yk) and idk who I want to make God yet, I might switch the rabbit for Carrot and make Usopp god but it doesn't make a huge amount of sense so don't quote me on that

At the beginning, since all of them are very distant relatives and it's near impossible to know the whole family, they fall into little support groups that change over time - before the story, Luffy was being raised by his grandfather with Ace and Sabo, who Garp adopted because Ace's parents died and Sabo's parent abandoned him.

(I'm going on a bit of a rant here Major fb spoilers) Ace was considered cursed from the second he was born the cat and the whole family made that clear. Since being born the cat means he can turn into a monster, he was shunned but also heavily pressured to never leave the village the entire soma family was based in (I don't remember what a gated community for one large family is called) since at 18 he would be locked away for everyone's "safety". Ace hates this fate so much so he's trying to figure out how to break the curse so he can be free. Ace and Sabo are also trying to do this

There needs to me some sort of catylist outsider looking in or else Luffy won't get the perspective outside the family that he needs to break the curse. I think I'll make this Coby because cobylu nation rise - also I'm being a little wonky with ages because Luffy needs to be old enough to do things without Ace being 18+

So Luffy, 15 and freshly split from Ace and Sabo, finds 15 y/o Coby who was kicked out of the house by his foster mom. Luffy leads him back to the house he got to keep in the split since he was the youngest and Coby starts staying there when Luffy starts befriending the other animals while trying to find a way to break the curse. I'm kind of iffy with Usopp being god for this reason but it fits So Well later. Coby is having the basic early-fruits basket shenanigans, I might make the turning into an animal less and opposite gender thing and more a 'anyone outside the family' thing because it still works. He's kind of trying to meet the whole zodiac but he's mostly using living with Luffy as a way to get Trained so he can hopefully join the police force. Luffy doesn't mind this at all, he thinks Coby's cute and he's got the Chutzpah so Luffy thinks he's amazing

Slowly Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Robin, Franky and Brook join up, but then the matriarch over Usopp doesn't like how independant they're getting from the rest of the family even if they're still interdependent so reels them back just in time for New years. Ace's eighteenth birthday. It isn't a war that takes him, Ace has known his whole life what would happen and Ace gets willingly locked in that house while Luffy claws at the confines and begs Ace to just break free because Luffy know he can. He just won't.

[theramblingsofadork]

🎵~Starpoint Squad AU/ OC Character Themes~🎵

Updated: 5/21/24

I wanted to compile a list of the themes that represent my Sonic OCs and the Starpoint Squad AU.

I’ll be updating this whenever I find better fitting themes or add any new characters, so this is a good place to come and get a vibe for the AU and all the players involved. :)

Also—yes, a lot of these are RWBY songs. XD Although I don’t watch the show much, they make some banger tracks that just fit really well with moments and scenes. 🤘

The Competition/Starpoint Squad Arc: RWBY - Touch The Sky, RWBY - Indomitable / RWBY - Guide My Way

If the Starpoint Squad Arc had a theme song, it would be Touch the Sky. It encapsulates the quirky and goofy vibes of the whole team. Dynamics and interactions between characters, clashing personalities yet also times of joy and having fun. The good times between the Starpoint Squad.

Indomitable encapsulates the first half of the AU as well, though sung from Rivet’s perspective in a sort of reminiscing kind of way. The soft moments, she remembers, the relationships and connections that form between Starline and the group, the triumphs they face together, and a moment from Downfall that ends up being the cruel turning point for everything.

Guide My Way plays during the final fight of this act. A theme for the battle to save Aethos.

The Downfall Arc: RWBY - Fear , RWBY - For Every Life

Fear encapsulates the Downfall Arc, where everything falls apart and friendships become fractured. Starline’s dreams are reached and battles are fought between former friends. Betrayal, regret, pain, and despair run deep. Can any of it be fixed or salvaged?

For Every Life would be the theme song for this arc.

The Restoration Arc: Porter Robinson - Look At The Sky / Porter Robinson - Wind Tempos

Look At The Sky and Wind Tempos encapsulate the Restoration Arc as a whole, focused mostly on Starline’s journey of redemption as he recovers, learns to accept forgiveness, and works to fix the things and relationships that got destroyed. The soft moments with him and Rivet, and the confrontations and reconciliations he has with the Starpoint Squad, Sonic and Co, and the Restoration. Pushing forwards to a new start and a better future.

~OC Specific Songs~

Rivet: Sonic Riders: Zero Gravity - Un-gravitify / Across the Spiderverse - Self Love / Arcane - Goodbye / Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars

Rivet is and always has been a Rider from the start of her creation as a character. Even though it’s just a hobby, Un-gravitify encapsulates her love of the ride, the technology involved, and is also a nod to her roots, since this was the song I originally created her to. ✨

Self Love would be Rivet’s self-narrating piece where she tells her story through all the arcs, much like Gwen does in the movie. It fits her general vibes while working with the team, her moments of warmth and softness with those she loves, as well as her somberness of being lost and having to reflect on and accept the weight of events that have transpired.

Goodbye is her regarding... everything she’s lost. A song of regret and sorrow.

Chasing Cars is her and Starline’s theme. Their soft moments, their battles, and their eventual reunion at the end of it all. The highs and lows, the good and the bad. All wrapped in one lovely song.

Charge: NF - The Search / RWBY - Quiet / Rooster Teeth - Death Battle: All-Consuming

The Search reflects the side Charge doesn’t talk about as often to anyone. It signifies his inner thoughts and captures the epitome of his stress and fear over his nightmares.

The other two enter major spoiler territory that I’m not ready to share about yet. So for now, I’ll let you imagine what they represent. ;3

Hex: Shadrow - This Hell / Shadrow - Shapes / Sonic Frontiers Remix - The Finding of Your Flame

The first two represent Hex’s neverending struggle with being ignored. Of being teased and pushed down by people who don’t take him seriously because of how young he is, and those who refuse to even give him a chance because they’re jealous of his skills. (Also, he’s a big video game kid, so the chiptune fits well.)

The Finding of Your Flame is both the final battle theme for the AU, as well as Hex’s victory theme. Where he finally does break through all of that and proves himself to the world that just because he’s young, doesn’t mean he’s not as capable as the rest. 🔥

Cello: Hatsune Miku - LeftBehindCity (Torinoko City)

Torinoko City reflects Cello’s isolation and strained relationship with her father. The contention she feels that he doesn’t support her dreams, and her wish that he would just be proud of her.

Lug: Ghost Trick - The Imprisoned

While I’m still struggling to find a true song that fits him, I feel this one captures his overzealousness to help, to encourage, and to support Hex. It also has the vibes of him being a big dumb brute. (We love him for it 💖)

Professor Yew: I Expect You to Die 3 - Cog in the Machine

Yew is an nature lover and environmentalistwho dreams of a better world for everyone. Although it starts out as an innocent dream, through the course of certain events, she slowly descends into villainy. This song is a love letter to the people who brushed her off, and highlights her determination to do what needs to be done for the greater good. Viewing everyone around her is a ‘cog in her machine’ to success, if you will. ;p

Zeroth: Yuki Hyashi - Let’s Dance with Me, Here in Hell / The Promised Neverland - Existence of an Insider / Dawko - Behind the Mask

These songs perfectly fit this ancient creature born of darkness, and the puppetmaster of many events. He may seem like no threat when he first opens his mouth, but whatever he utters will bring about nothing but destruction.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

K's 2023 Review

2023 is almost over and so, I thought that I would reflect on 10 fics from the past year. It's not so much a 'Top 10 in order' as it is 10 works that wanted to reflect on for different reasons.

Thanks to everyone who read, reblogged, and commented on these works and all my works over the year! More to come in the new year!

Don't Kink Shame Me - Hands to Yourself

Lewis Pullman is a very attractive man and I have a slight fixation on his hands. I have no idea why. This hasn't ever happened before, but for whatever reason, I love this man's hands. And so, this was a very self-indulgent way of me living vicariously through my characters. And who doesn't love a soft Bob?

That's My Man - Head Over Heels

Listen, Goose is always going to have my heart. He's my pfp and I watched TGM before TG 86 and I still had the audacity to be shocked by his death. The pre-TG dynamics between Mav and Goose (and Penny) have so much potential and the man is quite literally Husband Material. I don't write him as much anymore, but I love Goose and this little one shot that I wrote about him because I want to get swept off my feet by him too.

Sweet Tooth - Bumping Beach Bikini

This one blew up a bit and I was a little surprised by that, but it's literally so fluffy and happy and short that it's easy to love. Rooster being a goofball is a rarity in my works, but it fits this blurb so well and made me smile the whole time I was writing it. And, hey, his abs were a favorite from that beach scene, so I get where his wife is coming from. The dialogue is what really sells this story, and the ending still makes me giggle a little.

I Tried, Alright? - What is L-O-V-E?

Those of you who read and love The Danger Zone may be surprised to this find out, but it wasn't my first attempt at a Hangman / Rooster's Sister series. I don't know if my writing was just terrible or I just didn't sell the tension well enough or the OC was bland or whatever, but this story never seemed to take off and that's fine. It happens. I really loved the idea of it, but I moved onto other projects that got more attention and it just got discontinued because my ideas for it dried up. But, hey, I tried. Maybe I can reuse the premise later.

Who? - Nickie from The Forgotten Nest

Maybe it's surprising that my favorite OC isn't a love interest, but Nickie Mitchell wins the competition. He's just a goofball mama's boy who's secretly feral and I love him for it and I had a lot more freedom to do what I wanted with his character compared to a love interest. I really enjoyed writing the dynamics between him and his mom and the 'he didn't know about the pregnancy' trope that revolved around his story, even if it's cliche. I contemplated writing a spin off involving him as an adult, but it never got cohesive enough to publish, but he's still my favorite.

It Still Makes Me Cry - Family Cycles

Even though this wasn't very popular because it's Maverick/Carole and because I mostly write reader/OC inserts, it will always have a special place in my heart and I'm still incredibly proud of it. Mav's inner dialogue and the rollercoaster of emotions that he went through was just super fun to write. And Carole doesn't get enough attention in the fandom despite the fact that she's such a ray of sunshine. It's just a story that I'm very happy with even though it didn't get a lot of attention and one I reread frequently.

The Dark Horse - The Admirals Strike Back

Cyclone doesn't have a lot of works in this fandom and I get why, but I really enjoyed writing him in this little story. I just feel like regardless of who he's paired with, he definitely needs someone to make him relax outside of the job and his wife in this story fits that perfectly. And I do have a small obsession with writing 'big tough guys' as having a soft side. And cute kiddos and messing with Mav were just bonuses.

We Get It, You're Popular - Three Generations

This is still my most popular work on this site, and therefore has to be a favorite of mine. Obviously, you can't talk about Rooster becoming a father without thinking about Goose, but I enjoyed expanding off of that. Mav has his angsty moments, but there's a lot of humor too! Sort of best of both worlds. And the last bit of dialogue remains some of my favorite that I've ever written. There's no one a naval aviator fears like their pissed off wife.

What the Fuck Was I Thinking? - The Boss

I honestly don't know why I wrote this one. And then it's sequel. I think it's proof that enemies to lovers and forced proximity require some delicacy to pull off well. And I did not have it when I wrote it. And I think this solidified the decision that I'm going to leave the smut writing to the actual smut writers, because that's what this required to pull off and I just chickened out (and the fact that it's a Rooster story makes that joke even worse). It was relatively popular despite my poor writing and I'm glad that some of you liked it because at least there was a positive to the self-loathing I feel when I see it pop up.

Oldie But a Goodie - I'll Carry You

This one is still one of my favorites that I've ever written. We've got professional Jake (because no one can convince me that this man is not trying to make admiral one day), protective Jake, and soft husband Jake all in one. And I really wouldn't mind getting a piggyback ride from him. Or, even better, a bridal carry. It's relatively short and sweet but hits the right spot when you need a little soft fluff.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 77. brb x oc

a/n: finally my connection came back. Are you guys ready for the new arc? Neither am i lol i hope you guys like the chapter though.

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, Marcus is a good friend and Ev is.........not okay.

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

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76

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

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

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

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl

-

“I keep forgetting how big his studio is.”

“It is really big.” she smiles as they walk past the beautifully decorated doors, their steps echoing in the ground below mixing with the sounds of Marcus talking to his employees upstairs ,”And he has an elevator now.” Bradley was mentally glad considering how they had to walk up the stairs the first time they visited. He was fit but that didn’t mean that his legs didn’t scream with agony as soon as he reached the fifth step.

Nicole babbled inside her carrier, shaking her little hands as they entered the elevator, “I think she remembers this, right Nikki?” their daughter just squealed, the shiny buttons once again grabbing her attention.

“What do you think he wants my opinion for?” Rooster asks as the elevator slowly goes up, the piano version of Girl from Ipanema playing in the background, “Last time he didn’t need it.”

“I don’t know,Roos. Marcus is mysterious like that.” Bea smiles, holding his larger hand in hers, bringing it to her lips to kiss his fingers, “Why? Are you nervous?”

He makes a face, then shakes his head, “Not,nervous. Curious.” he says, the elevator dinged to announce they got to the desired floor. The doors opened, revealing Marcus…well, mostly his torso and huge red platform boots on his feet.

“Darlings!” Bea and Rooster had to look up when they left the elevator, the pilot feeling his neck ache since he rarely had to look up to talk to someone, “So glad you showed up! Are you two hungry? We have some hors d'oeuvres right over there.” he points to a table with indeed a variation of snacks and figner foods, “And some drinks.”

Both of them thanked him reassuring they weren’t hungry, “Very well,” his boots thunked on the floor so heavily they were sure the ground shook, “Come,come,come,I have to show you both something..and I’m so glad you brought the little one with you!”

“Oh,well, you hadn’t met her before, so,” Beatrice begins but Marcus just looks back at her with his smile confused.

“Darling, you brought her over before.”

“....I did?”

“Yes, you did.” he chuckles, waving his hand, “But no matter, it happens, follow me.”

Beatrice frowned, how did she forget she brought Nicole over already? She wondered if it was because her mind was on fire these past days - months, in reality - between working at the bar, helping Marcus and taking care of Nicole maybe she’s a bit forgetful but never to that point. “Baby.” Rooster calls softly and Beatrice looks back at him, “Marcus is waiting for us.”

When she looks back the fashion designer is bending his body a bit before entering his office, peeking back at them with a smile, “Oh,right.” she laughs awkwardly, following Rooster to Marcus’ office, the two of them watching the fashion stylist sit down on his chair with a gentle sigh - probably because his feet were hurting.

Marcus smiles, removing the Dior glasses from his face, interlacing his fingers on top of his stomach as he leans back against the chair, “Well, you two must be wondering why I asked you to come.” they nod, “But specifically why I asked our dear Bradley to join this conversation.”

Bradley crossed his arms, squinting his eyes just a bit as Marcus spoke,”Well, it’s quite simple…I’d like his opinion on some of the things you are going to wear.”

“Oh?” came out in unison, making the two share a look much for Marcus’ amusement.

“Yes!Oh yes, you know usually I do not accept opinions on my work…but I adore the two of you. If there’s a picture of what a fairytale romance is in the dictionary it’s just the two of you.” he smiles, “Anyway, let’s see…” 

He rummages through the drawers for a few seconds, humming to himself before letting out an ‘aha!’ as he picks up a folder. A thick one, with so many pictures Beatrice was sure it’d blow up any second now, “Very well, so,” he claps his hands, ‘I have to admit that I…was very inspired by both of you.” he smiles, “You two are lovely together and I figured, why not do it? So, here are the ideas I had.”

Both Rooster and Beatrice lean closer to the folder, Nicole happily distracted by her rubber elephant to care what her parents were doing. Rooster liked dressing nice, he had a few articles of clothing that were his favorites - the Hawaiian shirts being on the top obviously - but he knew shit about female fashion. He knew what Beatrice liked, because he knew Beatrice, but asking his opinion about her soon to be outfits? He didn’t know why Marcus would-

Oh that was a nice one.

It was a long flowy white dress with tiny blue flowers on the collar, a collar that exposed both her shoulders and a bit of cleavage. And Rooster was mesmerized imagining Beatrice wearing it. It was…beautiful and delicate, while being unbelievably sexy just like she was, “I like this one.” he says after a few seconds of silence, “It’s…nice.”

Marcus smiled, “Feel free to keep looking.” he says, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Alone? But-” Beatrice looks up when Marcus walks to the door, “But I thought you wanted to hear our opinions?”

“Oh darling,” he leans against the threshold, giving the two a sweet wicked look, ‘I do not need to be here to know, enjoy yourselves!”

Both of them could only watch in silence as Marcus closed the door behind him, the heavy thudding of his boots hitting the floor as he walked away, “...well,” she laughs quietly, “...I guess that happened.”

Bradley just arched his brow while turning his head to the door and Beatrice tried her best to not stare at her husband, because that pose only made his sharp jawline appear sharper than usual. He shaved his stubble, unfortunately, he said it was starting to itch a bit and who was she to stop him? 

He was just handsome no matter what and she had to focus back on the pictures or else she’d start drooling in Marcus’ office, “Well, ahem,” she nods to the folder, “Do you want to look more? I haven’t seen what he had done either.” besides a few sketches, but this was the official folder that he only used before working on them.

“Yeah, I do.” he smirks, his cheek dimpling when he does so, “I mean, all of these are going to look great on you,gorgeous.” he says, flipping the page, following the line of a peasant girl blouse in mossy green with some abstract shapes on the sleeves, “I like this one too.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah,these just look like something you’d wear…and I love it.”

Beatrice blushed, chewing her lower lip for a few seconds, “Did you ever think that one day you’d be sitting down,helping Marcus by choosing the clothes your wife is going to wear?” she chuckles, “Kinda crazy,don’t you think?”

Rooster has the corner of the page between his fingers but he didn’t flip it yet, instead he inhaled deeply, looking at the wall with several magazine covers alongside a picture of Marcus and who he could assume were his parents, “...I never thought I’d do something like this,no.” he says, “...but my life has been full of surprises, this…is actually really good. Sometimes you just want to think about things like this, worry less, enjoy time with those you love.”

He was a bit surprised about it still. Hell he was a pilot, where in his life the idea of being friends to a fashion designer was possible? Or that his wife was his model? But Rooster found out that sometimes reality is weirder than fiction, there are things that happen that you can’t grasp…like the fact that Beatrice was the sweetest person alive.

That, to this day, still amazes him.

Or the fact they are married and have a daughter.

Maybe it was his fault because of his own internalized pessimism, he still had moments where he’d be confused and doubtful, sometimes he’d shut down and just get quiet. And she knew…and she respected it, she only offered him a shoulder to lean on if he needed, only if he truly felt comfortable to share why he was so upset.

So no, half of the things he thought would happen when he was a child never happened. He went up the ranks, he made a name for himself, he met the love of his life and he had a baby with her.

“So my brain appreciates the pause,” he smiles, finally turning the page. They stayed there for a while, Marcus nowhere to be found as they chatted and Beatrice explained what she was going to do - art wise- for Marcus’ new collection. Bradley could listen to Beatrice for hours, listen that sweet voice and that cute accent she said she didn’t have, see the way those green eyes shone like stars and how her hands moved quickly with how excited she was.

And all the while Nicole chimed in with her babbling and the subtle but obvious sound of the rubber elephant being bitten, the squeaking of their daughter’s gums against the sleek surface would be annoying if Nicole was any other child. Beatrice kept on explaining, smiling and almost bouncing out of the chair - with Nicole as her ‘backing vocal’ - spreading her hands on an invisible banner above her head, “And royal blue flowers! And some natural flora from Greece- oh! Some statues from the Hellenistic period too-” she pauses, laughing awkwardly, “...I think I rambled,huh?”

He just leaned on his hand, smiling up at her with hearts in his eyes, ‘You could tell me about the weather and you’d never bore me. Don’t worry about rambling,baby.” he coos, kissing the back of her hand, “You are too sweet and too amazing to worry about rambling.”

Beatrice’s cheeks dusted red and she cupped his face to kiss his lips briefly, “We’re not making out in Marcus’ office.”

“We’re not?”

A swat on his shoulder, followed by her gentle chuckle, “No,we’re not.” and she leans back against the chair, “You know,I think it’s all done with…um,the clothes I think.”

He looks at the closed folder, “I think so.”

“So…which ones you liked the most?”

“..all of them.”

Beatrice parts her lips, “Roos, I think those are just…options, I don’t know if Marcus has all of those saved up somewhere.”

But Bradley just shrugs, “I mean I liked imagining you wearing all of those, it was pretty nice so I like all of them.” he drops his eyes down her body, “After all I love your body a whole lot.” 

“You are terrible.”

“I sure am,” he smirks, leaning closer to Beatrice, “Just wait until we get back home-”

“Darlings!!” the two of them snatched away from each other with enough velocity to break the sound barrier, Rooster almost lost his balance but played it off by crossing his legs, “Have we come to a verdict?” 

Rooster scratched the side of his face, both of them still a bit surprised by Marcus’ sudden entrance, “Well…I kind of liked a lot of them,” he pauses, “Honestly all of them look really nice.” both of them follow Marcus’ with their eyes as he walks around his desk to sit down, his interlaced fingers holding his face up to look at them.

“I see.” he grins, “So they’ll all be used.”

“Wait,all?” Beatrice’s eyes widen, “Marcus-”

“Darling,daarling,ssshshshsh,” he wags his fingers against his own lips, “It was going to happen anyway, you don’t have to worry so much.”

Wait,what?

Rooster frowned, “Wait, but if you were going to use all of those outfits…why did you need me?”

Marcus smiles more, “Because you two in love is a great inspiration for me.” he explains, “And because I had some stuff to give you and Beatrice wouldn’t be able to take everything home.” he says it so naturally that the couple just give him a look, “And I wanted to see the whole family together as well.”

Marcus was an odd man but Beatrice was happy by his response. It was sweet and very Marcus. Very Marcus.

And of course they were taking some boxes home: dresses,suits, outfits for Nicole who’d grow up to become one of the most fashionable babies in their neighborhood. It was a lot, but it was something that Marcus wanted, maybe as a thanks for Beatrice’s help during this new collection or just, and that was the heavily leaned response, Marcus felt like it.

“Well…that happened.” Rooster says once they get back inside the car, shaking his head with a soft chuckle, “...Marcus is a fun guy…kinda strange,but fun.”

“I know,right? He didn’t have to do all that, but he-” cue to her phone buzzing, again, “Oh what’s it now?” she pulls out her phone to unlock it, which makes her husband arch his brow at her as he drives away. Beatrice’s brows are furrowed and she bites her lower lip, “It’s Evelyn.”

“Again?” he questions as they stop at a red light, “She seems to want to chat a lot,huh?”

But Rooster’s humorous words weren’t reciprocated, because Beatrice looked worried, “She never did this,Roos.” she whispers, “...maybe it’s better if I go there, now, because she sounds…sounds unlike herself.”

Now that was odd too.

What a heavy contrast from the happiness of visiting Marcus to wonder why exactly Evelyn was acting weirdly via text. Rooster could only drive as Beatrice typed furiously on her phone.

Ev (10:40)

How soon can you get here???

Ev (10:45)

Bea?!!

Ev (10:59)

Bea,please answer

Bea (11:00)

Sorry Ev, we were talking to Marcus…what’s happening? Is everything okay?

Ev (11:00)

How soon can you get here?

Bea (11:01)

Well it’s a 30 mins drive to your place…Ev you are scaring me.

Ev (11:01)

Good, no I mean, not the scaring part. Please hurry, are you with Rooster?

Bea (11:02)

Yes.

Ev (11:02)

He can’t come here, I can’t explain why yet and I really need to talk to you ALONE. Please.

Bea (11:03)

Oh…okay then,I’ll…be there in a few.

After sending the last message she looked over at Bradley,who while curious,kept his eyes on the road as he drove, “...Evelyn wants to talk to me,” she begins, “Alone.” she could see his eyebrow flick with confusion, but he didn’t seem upset, in fact he just nodded and turned the wheel so they could go to her apartment.

“Did she say why?” it was the first question since he turned the car around and Beatrice shook her head negatively, “Hm…weird.”

“You can say that again.” Bea whispered, “...Are you going to be okay tho? You don’t have to wait for me.”

“Do you think it’ll be a long conversation?’

“I think it’ll be something.” she says, “I don’t know what…but I don’t want to keep you here, especially with Nikki.” she looks back at her daughter, smiling down at her sleeping form on the backseat,”I can ask Shells to give me a ride in any case.”

Surprising that the blonde wasn’t there, but considering how Evelyn was acting, it was more serious than any of them could ever imagine. “Nah,I can go home and pick you up, don’t worry.” Evelyn’s building comes into view and he rolls into a park, “Call me when you are done?”

“I will.’ she leans closer to him to peck him on the lips, “I love you.”

‘Love you too,gorgeous.” he smiles, “Hopefully you can help her out, hm?” Beatrice’s smile is small but she nods, unbuckling the seat belt and opening the passenger door. Rooster watches his wife walk towards the main entrance, lifting two of his fingers in a semi wave when she turns around to look at him. She smiles more before turning on her heel to enter the building finally.

Beatrice stood by the glass doors just to see the Bronco drive off, then turned to the concierge who was smiling politely at her, “Ms.Simpson is already waiting for you, please,” she holds out a card, “Use this to lock the door once you enter, she’s a bit undisposed to do so.Just press it against the sensor.”

She had never seen a keycard like that, nor seen that it looked like an actual lock “Oh,um,okay, thank you.” the woman nods with the same smile, returning to her computer as Beatrice made her way to the elevators. The ride up was the longest she had ever taken, chewing the inside of her lower lip while bouncing her leg. She tried to come up with reasons for her friend to be acting like that.

Evelyn was the strongest of the group, she was the mature one, she was smart, she knew how to take care of herself and more especially: she rarely asked for help. Beatrice could count on her fingers the amount of times Evelyn needed a moment alone with her friends, or with one friend in particular and the more Beatrice thought about it the more her stomach churned.

The elevator dinged signaling she arrived at her stop, so Beatrice walked out to face Evelyn’s decorated door. The large pumpkin head with glowing eyes looked right back at her, “Ev?” she calls, “I’m coming in okay?” she pushes the door open, blinking when she notices how…dark her apartment is.

The curtains are drawn shut, there’s only a sliver of light coming from between the two pieces of fabric that created almost like an arrow towards the hallway that led to Evelyn’s room. Beatrice licked her lips, closing the door as the woman asked her to, hearing a melodic tune and the sound of a lock being turned, “Ev?” she tries again, frowning at how quiet it was.

She slides the keycard in her back pocket, looking around her friend’s apartment with a frown. She couldn’t even find Wiley.

Oh my God,did something happen to him?!

Maybe that was why!

“Ev?” she tries yet again, slowly approaching the bedroom’s open door, blinking when she sees none other but Wiley poking his head out, ‘Oh, hi buddy.” she coos, breathing out in relief, crouching down to let the orange cat leap in her arms…but with that relief only lasted for a second because if Wiley wasn’t the reason, then what was it? She approached the door, again the room was very dark saved by a few slivers of light.

She steps in with Wiley in her arms, being only able to see a lump under the covers, a lump that undoubtedly looked like Evelyn. She enters the room fully this time, then looks around to see that there were certain things that weren’t Evelyn’s, like the large pair of combat boots and the denim jacket on the corner of the room, “Ev.” she calls and the lump moves.

“M’ here.”

“Hey,” Beatrice lets Wiley go to slowly approach the bed, so she could sit on the edge, “Hey, what’s wrong?” she touches her friend’s shoulder only for Evelyn to curl even more into a ball, “Ev, you are worrying me,are you sick? What’s the matter?”

“Nightstand.”

“Huh?”

“Look,” a shaky inhale, “In the nightstand.”

Beatrice couldn’t understand what was happening but she directed her eyes to the nightstand in question, being only able to see a lamp and nothing more, “There’s nothing there Ev.”

‘Drawer.”

Beatrice frowns but does as she says, gently pulling the drawer open to check inside. There were a few books, some magazines and pens inside…and then she saw it. Three white sticks close to one another, all of them with two blue lines on them.

Beatrice was very glad she was sitting down.

[chs-miraculous-prompts]

Miraculous – Better Kwami Combinations (Prompt)

Before anything, read the rules.

The reason I am doing that is because, honestly, I hate a lot of combinations of canon, mostly because many of them don’t make sense with the personality, abilities and even color pallet of their holder’s civil form.

This is to help those that are starting their AUs, and will use the canon ones because they can’t think of more interesting ones.

So, down below, there are present some combinations that I consider better than canon.

 Alya: The Dog

Seriously, everyone, why has canon given her the fox? Alya’s character is all about going after the truth and unmasking lies. And they don’t even show her struggling to use it. All the times she use mirage, she does it flawlessly (the closest we got was a slight insecurity in Sapotis, and still, she created a a flawless illusion of an Amusement Park).

The dog would be a lot better considering her dreams of becoming a journalist. And the color pallet isn’t even that different from the fox, so, the changes on the outfit could be minimal. Besides, the concept of Adoration fits her role as Marinette’s best friend.

 Max: The Rabbit

Can someone explain me why one of the smartest kids in the class, who understands about science, isn’t using a miraculous that involves time-travel, and, with misuse, can tear the space-time continuum? Like, if someone would understand of how to use the rabbit miraculous properly would be Max. Besides, if miraculous followed any of the rules of physics, they should have used the rabbit in Startrain (since time is faster in space, and it would have been months ever since the train left Earth).

 Alix: The Snake

The girl’s color pallet is green, she has snake drawings in her sleeves, and her akuma power is closer to the snake miraculous than the rabbit (since it only brings her back a few seconds in time, and only after charging her rollerblades with the life energy of others).

Besides, Luka plays a lot of instruments, did he need another one?

 Nathaniel: The Goat

Honestly, even if I understand the critics of Nathaniel using this miraculous, I think there is a better solution than giving him another jewel. His natural hair color is brown (as confirmed by miraculous secrets).

Just make his hair brown in your Aus, and make it became black with white streaks when he transforms.

(But honestly, I am not that well-informed about why people dislike Caprikid besides the color palet).

 Mylene: The Horse

Many episodes show that Mylene seems to be interested in other cultures and places (like the bracelets of Gang of Secrets). And they use the horse a lot to go to space, and Mylene had an arc of protesting against the project of throwing the garbage on the sun, so, it sorta works as connection.

Besides, Kaalki’s personality could help Mylene be more confident on herself.

 Zoé: The Fox

People have stated before that Lila and Zoe have lots of parallels, and, honestly, they aren’t wrong! Zoe can act, and she did use lies to be popular. The difference was, she had good intentions (unlike Lila). So, why not make her Volpina with good intentions?

Besides, there is literally no way of connecting her with the bee miraculous. She isn’t bossy or a natural leader to wield the miraculous of subjection/action.

 Sabrina: The Rooster

Canon constantly shows that Sabrina has a lot of abilities. She is a great student (miraculous secrets confirm she is only behind Adrien in in the matter of grades), she play soccer well enough, can cook, and is always prepared to help.

So, why not give her a miraculous that allows her to do all of that? Besides, who says she isn’t a writer in her free time?

 Luka: The Mouse

I just think it would be interesting if he and Marinette shared a miraculous (just like how I think that Adrien should have temporally wielded the Dragon not the Snake, but it’s a story for another day).

Luka seems to understand a lot about teamwork, and working with many versions of himself seems like something he would be able of doing.

Besides, it isn’t hard to imagine someone like Bob Roth having a sentimonster that worked like Mega Leech (that would help him get inside people’s minds to convince them to buy a product he is selling or something like that).

 Juleka: The Bee

This one is a little trickier. Besides me believing that Juleka’s interest in modeling fits the concept of subjection/action better than Zoe’s dreams of acting, it’s also because of her past interactions with Chloe.

Chloe was the responsible for the events of Reflekta, something that was pretty traumatic for Juleka.

So, why not giving her the bee as a revenge? Besides, Pollen’s encouragement could also help her become more confident.

Marc: The Tiger

Well… Marc is shy, the Tiger could help him out and… he would probably look great with the Tiger. (Couldn’t think of anything else, sorry).

 Remember, this are all just suggestions. I would like to hear you guys’ opinions and thoughts.

[dragynkeep]

dont know you, just searching the drama after getting over rtah in 2018, and i gotta ask if you have any thoughts on their selective firing. i think bruce greene has confirmed he left funhaus because HR wouldn't do anything about adam kovic, and it seems that they only did something about him during the ryan haywood thing, probably because it was known enough that it would come out imminently after ryan's shit and wanted to get ahead of the pr nightmare. meanwhile joel was quietly let go because he was a conservative (or racist as you put it, small hairs to split) and yet we constantly hear about rt staff after rt staff after rt staff come out as being racist and homophobic pieces of shit.

i know youre mostly talking about crwby shit but whats the thoughts?

sent that and then saw the fucking thing about barb. losing my mind. rooster teeth really just playing russian roulette huh

it’s definitely been uh, a major shit storm lmao.

i think the disparity between joel versus other people doing similar acts without being let go just proves that to thrive in the company; you had to know the right people. it fits in well with what we’ve seen in the glassdoor exposes, that the on camera staff essentially ruled the roost & others were just expected to get on with it.

which fits in with the information of barbara abusing staff beneath her & acting like a real cunt with people; which we’ve already seen in interviews & at conventions with fans.

as for all the sexual harassment / abuse, it doesn’t surprise me. i know that they claimed they were blind with what happened with ryan; but considering we have multiple on screen members laughing at jokes of ryan molesting his children & making rape jokes themselves, sexually harassing women & more, well. i call bullshit. especially since they’re now being sued in court for enabling ryan’s behaviour & obviously not having enough in place to keep their fans safe.

overall, this company should not survive into 2023 & people pleading for it to do so “for the workers” really need to look at the bigger picture. people have been abused, nearly murdered & raped by people protected by this company. is that really where they want their money going?

[victorluvsalice]

Well, it’s Spring Sunday in the Chill Valicer Save as of this update -- a new year for our trio! And we’re kicking things off with an update that is only FOUR PARTS. Yeah, I’m shocked too. XD But to be honest, it was a pretty chill day around the Valicer farm. . .

. . .if only because, not only did I get both High School Years and Growing Together (well, in all technicality, my parents got them for me -- belated Christmas/birthday present!), I installed a BUNCH of new mods from one Lumpinou. Including the LGBTQIA+ Mod to properly set everyone’s gender, romantic, and sexual identities. So setting that up took a decent amount of time! And by the time I figured out that and some of the other mods I’d put in, like Open Love Life (hint: if you can’t find where to update everything, it’s under Actions in the pie menu when you click on a Sim), it was easier to just have everyone hang around the farm and get themselves sorted. They probably needed the time to just chill after all the traveling around to different cities and realms of the last three updates anyway! So here’s how their day went:

-->Smiler, after getting the robot salvage parts necessary, enhanced Party Time up to level 2 (it loses charge slower now), then started work on a quadcopter toy! Unfortunately, after so long avoiding it, they got shocked halfway through the process and had to take a break before completing it. :( I had them use the time effectively, though, buying a white hen and a brown rooster for the chicken coop -- they were down to just one black hen and a rooster chick in there after so many visits from Grim! So now they’ll have proper egg production again, yay -- and maybe they can actually get to know these chickens a little better. (Especially since I’ve finally turned livestock aging off to match with the actual Sims not aging either.)

-->Alice got a little bonding time in with Shadow, then sold both her most recent books to a publisher (gotta get those royalties) before doing a bit of recycling (gotta get those bits and pieces too). Simple stuff, but important!

-->Victor -- well, when he woke up, I was finally able to gather everyone to let each other know about their new gender, romantic, and sexual identities! For reference, Smiler is now officially non-binary, panromantic, and pansexual; Victor is cis male, biromantic, and bisexual; and Alice is cis female, demipanromantic, and demipansexual (yes, she’s actually gray-ace in my headcanons -- mostly asexual except under certain circumstances -- but I think currently “gray-ace” in the mod means that Sims accept or reject touching-related romance interactions randomly, so I decided demi fit her Simself better). Everyone was very positive and accepting of each other’s new identities. :) I also had everyone agree to be non-exclusive in their relationships (Smiler and Alice were actually already set to prefer non-exclusive relationships -- while Victor was set to prefer exclusive ones. Sir -- sir YOU’RE the one with a wife and a themfriend. I reset Victor and Alice to be indifferent as that’s closer to my headcanons, but left Smiler as preferring non-exclusive, because why not?), so that’s all sorted now! :) Oh, and for what it’s worth, I ALSO popped into CAS to set some of the new conversational topic and Sim archetype preferences -- mostly just making sure everybody liked the kind of Sims the others were (Victor and Alice liking spirited Sims, Smiler liking homebodies and nature enthusiasts, stuff like that). So now they all have amazing compatibility as per the new Growing Together system too!

-->With everyone up to speed and having reaffirmed their love and acceptance for each other, Victor was allowed to have some breakfast and then go potter about in his greenhouse, while Alice went out for a jog (her resolution is to get fit, after all!) and Smiler went back to their quadcopter. They finished that up with no further issues, and then went to ask Victor in the greenhouse for a drink. Victor said yes, of course. . .